I felt really battered last week.
Rather than elation at being licensed and being delegated to deanery synod, I felt a huge burden of responsibility.
Responsibility to know.
Responsibility to have answers.
Responsibility to be wise.
Responsibility to find out what is going on in the local and national Church.
Responsibility to be aware of what is going on in the wider church
Responsibility to discern what is a core doctrine and what is negotiable.
Responsibility to be right (ie find out what is right).
I have been reading the Church of England newspaper, and find that the church is run increasingly by people I disagree with on fundamental issues.
I have been reading a wider range of blogs than my normal favourites, and getting bogged down in theological debates. No matter how much I try to tone down my language I always sound polemical an argumentative. I have had to write apologies. I have been exposed to strong doctrines that undermine my core beliefs. I have felt broken by the strength of the tide flowing against me.
On Saturday night I woke up at 2 am, and couldn’t sleep again, tossing and turning, churning these things in my mind, trying to fix the Church of England and the Blogosphere while half of my brain has been shut down by sleep deprivation. In particular, the ‘off’ button was not working.
I needed strong coffee to get me through the day.
At the morning service they announced that at the evening service there would be a time of prayer where members would pray for each other. I determined that I would be there and that I would use the time to reconnect with God.
I was on warden duty that evening, but when the time came I delegated my tasks to a sidesperson and was the first at the front.
The first person to pray with me spoke in general terms and didn’t really cover the ground I wanted. The next person had a similar lack of prophetic insight, but did include a request for wisdom in his prayer. The last person (The Vicar) also had a more general prayer but it covered more of the ground that I needed. But mostly, it was a time of simply being in the presence of God. Standing, with my eyes closed, hearing the music around but not focussed on it, in the company of others and feeling their support but basically alone with God,
Rather than elation at being licensed and being delegated to deanery synod, I felt a huge burden of responsibility.
Responsibility to know.
Responsibility to have answers.
Responsibility to be wise.
Responsibility to find out what is going on in the local and national Church.
Responsibility to be aware of what is going on in the wider church
Responsibility to discern what is a core doctrine and what is negotiable.
Responsibility to be right (ie find out what is right).
I have been reading the Church of England newspaper, and find that the church is run increasingly by people I disagree with on fundamental issues.
I have been reading a wider range of blogs than my normal favourites, and getting bogged down in theological debates. No matter how much I try to tone down my language I always sound polemical an argumentative. I have had to write apologies. I have been exposed to strong doctrines that undermine my core beliefs. I have felt broken by the strength of the tide flowing against me.
On Saturday night I woke up at 2 am, and couldn’t sleep again, tossing and turning, churning these things in my mind, trying to fix the Church of England and the Blogosphere while half of my brain has been shut down by sleep deprivation. In particular, the ‘off’ button was not working.
I needed strong coffee to get me through the day.
At the morning service they announced that at the evening service there would be a time of prayer where members would pray for each other. I determined that I would be there and that I would use the time to reconnect with God.
I was on warden duty that evening, but when the time came I delegated my tasks to a sidesperson and was the first at the front.
The first person to pray with me spoke in general terms and didn’t really cover the ground I wanted. The next person had a similar lack of prophetic insight, but did include a request for wisdom in his prayer. The last person (The Vicar) also had a more general prayer but it covered more of the ground that I needed. But mostly, it was a time of simply being in the presence of God. Standing, with my eyes closed, hearing the music around but not focussed on it, in the company of others and feeling their support but basically alone with God,
drinking,
drinking,
absorbing.
Presenting myself to him as an offering.
Acknowledging weakness.
Receiving the Holy Spirit.
I went back to my post at the welcome desk, tears still on my face and being replaced by new ones as God’s work in me continued.
God is not greater when I am high, or less when I am down. Salvation s by faith, not by emotions. Christianity is not about how we feel. But to exclude our emotions from our whole-person dealings with God is also a mistake.
And so, to come into his presence troubled and anxious, and then to leave full of peace and at rest, is very good.
I went home with three more editions of the Church of England newspaper, and joked flippantly to my wife that they were three more nights of lost sleep. But she knew it was a joke.
She is very wise, and has said that I should be both more bold and more cautious. I should not try to fix the world in the night, and should not just fire off randomly in all directions, but in due time in the places where God has placed me I should stand up and say the things he has put me there to say, boldly.
Thank God for spiritual refreshment.
I went back to my post at the welcome desk, tears still on my face and being replaced by new ones as God’s work in me continued.
God is not greater when I am high, or less when I am down. Salvation s by faith, not by emotions. Christianity is not about how we feel. But to exclude our emotions from our whole-person dealings with God is also a mistake.
And so, to come into his presence troubled and anxious, and then to leave full of peace and at rest, is very good.
I went home with three more editions of the Church of England newspaper, and joked flippantly to my wife that they were three more nights of lost sleep. But she knew it was a joke.
She is very wise, and has said that I should be both more bold and more cautious. I should not try to fix the world in the night, and should not just fire off randomly in all directions, but in due time in the places where God has placed me I should stand up and say the things he has put me there to say, boldly.
Thank God for spiritual refreshment.
(and for wise women!)
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