Sunday Welcome

On Sundays the people of St Jude’s are very, very friendly. They chat. Open faced. All those expressions associated with acceptance, raised eyebrows, big grins, relaxed body language.\r\n\r\nThe problem is this.\r\n\r\nWhen Jack, who has been coming on Sundays, wanders into the church for a midweek meeting, he is met by a strange and what he believes is an uncharacteristic coolness (compared to the church he knows on Sunday). The same people that grinned and relaxed with him on Sunday just glanced over in his direction, and carried on in their own conversation.\r\n\r\nIn fact, the group of five or six people talking seemed to be huddled together. They hadn’t linked arms or anything like that. They just seemed to be closer than usual. On more careful inspection it was clear that although they were perhaps standing marginally closer physically they were remarkably closer socially. It was something about the focus on their faces. Jack had seen it on faces in the canteen at work. There was an aura that said, “Not you. Not now.”\r\n\r\nIt was clear to Jack that this was another group altogether. Same people, different group. Jack did what most slightly self concious outsiders do in church, the ones that don’t have the balls to just walk out in case they upset someone, as if …\r\n\r\nJack started to read notices, pick up books on the book stall, study Sunday School pictures on the wall, examine the Lady Chapel, and gradually drift towards the door.\r\n\r\nHe was unnecessarily self concious. No-one noticed.\r\n\r\nHe thought, “where was that Sunday Welcome?”\r\n\r\nand\r\n\r\n”What was that Sunday Welcome?”

Sabbath

I can’t take a day off. I don’t get it. Why sit down in some place devoid of activity and purposeful attainment when I could be achieving, supporting, producing, and generally propping up the rickety structure that is my life? Or why take a day off when all the chores need to be done?

I can’t take a day off, which is why I observe the Sabbath. One day a week not spent chasing the things that so easily become temptations –  ambitions and appetites. It’s a religious observance but not out of a sense of religious perfectionism, but out of a sense of grateful thankfulness that everything I am responsible for is not ultimately dependent on me.

It’s difficult to change the rhythm of life, and this has not been easy, but the introduction of a Sabbath has been the most significant change in my lifestyle – ever. Try it: it is to be highly recommended.

Subservient to the people

I recently found myself in a discussion about preaching.\n\nThe arguments flew around – could the people in the congregation be capable of giving proper feedback to the preacher.\n\nSome said no, they weren’t capable of it.\n\nOthers said yes, of course they could.\n\nSome said to aim for the best advice possible – bishops or Americans.\n\nSome said keep it local, build the community, be vulnerable.\n\nBut on reflection,\n\nIsn’t the point of preaching that one person reaches a handful of other people in a particular context with words which could be from God and should therefore in some way change the lives of the people listening .\n\nAnd if the preacher doesn’t know if that’s actually happening, then asking a Bishop or an American for advice is … well, misguided.\n\nIn other words, the gift of the preacher is given as a gift that is subservient to the people listening.

Assimliation

New people come to church. In staff meeting we discuss them. Families are particularly enticing.\n\nWe say how useful they will be in the future in helping to run the church.\n\nBut, if they only come once a month to ‘messy church’ how will they become involved?\n\nThe truth is, we have just as much trouble wondering how to move people from occasional attendance to faithful commitment as we do in moving people from no faith to faith.\n\nWhat steps should we take?\n\nPerhaps first we should change the way we talk about people. Then we may change the way we talk to people.

Kierkegaard

“There is something quite definite I have to say, and I have it so much upon my conscience that (as I feel it) I dare not die without having uttered it. For the instant I die and thus leave this world (so I understand it) I shall in the very same second be infinitely far away, in a different place where still within the same second the question will be put to me: ‘Hast Thou uttered the definite message quite definitely?’ And if I have not done so, what then?”

Journals (ed Dru), p493