Here’s another blast from the past. What can we find as we look through earlier January posts?
Five years ago
In January 2018 I wrote about eating together and how the early church had no ceremony like our communion service. And I quoted from Victor Choudherie who urges us to ‘promote breaking of bread with simple Agape meals (love feasts) from house to house, that believers take with glad hearts’.
In January 2013 there was a hard frost in St Neots where I lived at the time. Within four days, the ice and snow had gone and early hints of the coming spring had appeared. How fast things can change!
Human society seems to bring a certain amount of order to the scene, but it’s a deceptive kind of order. Anyone who has a garden will know that order demands great effort to achieve and continuous effort to maintain.
Some have argued that living things depend on structure and order. And of course, there is some truth in that; but it’s a limited kind of truth. Look at a forest, a coral reef (or any ecosystem) and you will see the most amazing and thriving mess. Colours and shapes intermingled haphazardly, lots of competition for space and light. Every single organism doing its own thing.
Coral reef, a rich mix of species (Image from Wikimedia)
Human society seems to bring a certain amount of order to the scene, but it’s a deceptive kind of order. Anyone who has a garden will know that order demands great effort to achieve and continuous effort to maintain. And much of that effort will involve destruction – rooting out things that grow where you don’t want them, trimming hedges to keep them straight, cutting grass to maintain a smooth lawn, poisoning unwanted insects and fungi. A garden has structure and looks nice, but that structure comes at great cost to nature and requires constant effort from the gardener. Jesus said his Father is a gardener.
Farmer is really a more appropriate English word. And not ‘farmer’ as in a modern monocrop system of extensive wheat or mile after mile of beans or peanuts. Papa isn’t bothered about measured lines and neat grass; his interests are more to do with fruitfulness than with structure. He is not a park attendant, he is a grower of vines and olives in the way they were grown 2000 years ago in Israel, sympathetically and naturally. Farmers in those days were helpers and encouragers of the abundance of the natural, not at all like today’s farmers who are more like dictators armed with diesel fuel, big machines, and farm chemicals.
For those who want to function in a structured environment with clear and appointed leadership roles and a liturgy – be my guest, feel free. Sometimes Papa calls me to be involved in those situations too. But mostly he calls me to the freedom, glory, and abundant life of his original garden. This is a place where you will rarely see a straight line, where men and women do not control the show, where there is no architecture and there are no roads. It’s a place where he invites his children to come and run free and shout with joy in his presence. There is no liturgy, just an outpouring of praise and worship from rejoicing hearts.
And out of the ‘disorder’ of this garden comes a deeper knowledge of the heart of the Most High and a richer walk with him. And the life I experience there in his presence with my brothers and sisters, that life is something I can take into this struggling world. Truly he is the way, the truth, and the life. HalleluYah!
I hope 2023 will be a year to look forward to. As this year closes and the new one arrives, my hope, wish, and prayer for you is that grace and blessing will fill your life.
Wow, it’s that time of year again, somehow it feels like a few months since I last chose a photo to share for this occasion. This year’s image shows winter catkins covered by crystals of hoar frost. What can this photo say to us?
Crystals of hoar frost on catkins – (Download the original photo)
More and more, the UK is a rich mix of people from many cultural backgrounds. That’s why the title is not ‘Christmas Greetings’. Please accept the greetings and replace the word ‘Season’ with whatever you like. If you’re Hindu you could choose ‘Divali’ as a reminder of your celebrations in October, or Jewish friends might go with ‘Hannukah’ in December. If you’re Muslim there’s no particular celebration for winter 2022; perhaps you could take my greetings as a blessing for the whole of next year – spring, summer, autumn and winter again. Buddhists have two festivals in January. And there are more groups of people I haven’t mentioned specifically. An exhaustive list would be – exhausting!
But whoever you are and whatever you celebrate, I want to bless you with a few words and with the picture of hoar frost. What can that picture say to us?
It should remind us that life is full of seasons, and wintertime in the UK can be cold, especially January and February. This year will be especially hard for some because of rising prices, rarely matched by rising incomes. Heating this winter will be costly and there will be too many who simply won’t be able to keep their home cosy. And then there are those with no home at all.
And what about Ukraine and other war-torn places? In Ukraine the winters can be harsh with the coldest days often reaching -5°C, and sometimes -10°C or -20°C. Now imagine (if you can) living at those temperatures in an unheated house with broken windows, no electrical power, no internet, and no water supply. Although national and local government and company teams reconnect all these services as quickly and widely as possible, repairs are often taken down again by the next Russian air strike.
So my message this winter is that we should all help those around us. Talk with lonely people, provide some dried or canned food to your local food bank, donate warm clothes you no longer need, perhaps to a charity shop. If you can afford a gift of money, choose a charity that will use your donation wisely and effectively.
The picture also reminds us that even cold weather can be beautiful. Those frost crystals look like jewellery! And as the days start to lengthen again, the temperature will rise, plants will start to bud and flower, birds will build their nests, and the promise of summer weather will be just around the corner. Of course, for those of you in the southern hemisphere all this will be back-to-front. For you, spring is already turning into summer and you can look forward to autumn colours in March and April. For all of us, now will become yesterday, a week ago, a month ago; and tomorrow will become today.
So whoever you are, whatever faith you have (or none), I hope 2023 will be a year to look forward to. As this year closes and the new one arrives, my hope, wish, and prayer for you is that grace and blessing will fill your life in ways hoped for and ways unexpected.
Let’s all be grateful for what we have, and display compassion and love towards those who don’t. In that way, blessing will have a chance to touch you, and through you, touch others as well.
The weak are doubly rewarded, they’re glad to do the easy things and by their childlike faith and trust achieve the hard things too
This is an edited repost of one of my earliest blog messages, originally from 18th December 2002, so almost twenty years ago! In fact, it was my first serious post.
Back in those days I’d been meeting with my sister, Rachael, and some local friends. Sometimes we met in Rugby, at Rachael’s house, sometimes near Wellingborough where one of our friends lived, and sometimes at my home or others in St Neots.
The meetings were always full of spiritual life; we would sit together, share coffee, do a bit of a catch up chat, and then fall into a comfortable silence – waiting, and expecting the Holy Spirit to guide us. These were very fruitful times for all of us. Out of the quietness would come a mental picture, a thought, some Bible verses, a prayer, words in an unknown language, an interpretation, a song, some prophecy. Usually everyone would contribute something, and always by the end of the meeting we would see a clear thread running through the whole, something we could remember that would encourage us or bless us in some way.
The following is what I wrote twenty years ago:
Our meeting reminded me of the seventh day of creation, when He rested. Even God desires quiet times!
The other bit I particularly remembered was, ‘It’s not for us to do, but for Him to do in us’ (RK)
Four of us met and the Holy Spirit led us very gently. We felt encouraged and uplifted, it was a peaceful and quiet time with a variety of words and pictures.
There was a wonderful picture of still water, with a reflection of the Almighty’s glory clearly visible in it; the water also reflected images of us towards him. Our feet were in the water; and he said that we should be careful not to make disturbances as this would spoil the reflection, only if we stayed quiet and very still would we be able to see his reflected glory.
We also had a word that the easy things he wants done are overlooked by the great and the learned, while the difficult things are only ever attempted by the weak and foolish.
Thinking about this afterwards I realised that the great doubly miss out, they miss the easy things because they think they’re not worth doing, and they miss the hard things because they realise they’re too difficult to attempt. But the weak are doubly rewarded, they’re glad to do the easy things and by their childlike faith and trust achieve the hard things too!
We came away encouraged and strengthened – it was a great evening!
A reflection of what is not directly visible – Image from Wikimedia Commons
My thought after the meeting is what I want to emphasise here in 2022. Perhaps we are much too easily impressed by the people in society who are thought to be great in wisdom, or wealth, or skill. Great leaders, great speakers, powerful company bosses. Reputation can be overvalued.
Perhaps we should be more willing to also value weakness, and to notice how the weak are doubly blessed. They achieve this by doing the easy things that the great may overlook or regard of little value, and they achieve the hard things by just doing them, often without recognising the difficulties.
So let’s value the weak and the humble. Let’s notice them, and learn from them. At the same time we can (and should) appreciate the people around us who achieve so much through skill, learning, persuasive speaking, and sheer hard work and persistence. The great are good, providing they are also humble and gentle. Indeed, good motives are fundamental, for both the strong and the weak.
And if you think you are weak – rejoice! Savour the double blessing.
Some questions
If you follow Jesus, could you meet like this? Have you tried?
What advantages are there in preparing the content, structure, and leadership of a meeting in advance?
Are there any disadvantages?
What does Paul mean when he says that all should contribute? (1 Corinthians 14:26) – For more on this question, see my subsequent tweet.
The message from the New Testament seemed clear to me, there was supposed to be just one church, not a multiplicity of flavours brought about through a long series of historical disagreements and splits.
I was asked this question some time ago, and at first I felt that it somehow missed the point because I tend to feel that I never was an Anglican. But it’s true that in my mid to late teens I would have called myself Anglican – perhaps.
Early rumblings
My first memorable experience of the voice of the Father in my life was when I was around the age of 6 or 7. I was standing by the side wall of the junior school, and I was alone. Perhaps I’d just been dropped off at school in the morning, or maybe I was outside at playtime or lunchtime. I was aware of a deep rumbling sound, like a distant thunderstorm but much more stretched out in time. And it came twice, like two spoken sentences. My parents had talked about ‘God’ sometimes and I knew he lived in a place called ‘heaven’, and I was immediately certain that this rumbling voice was significant and came from this ‘God’ that I later came to see as ‘Father’ or ‘Papa’. I didn’t understand the meaning, but I knew who was speaking and that there was a purpose in it, that he was calling me in some mysterious way. Although puzzled, I also felt special and chosen for a specific task, though I didn’t know what that might be. I have never forgotten this strange experience.
Family background
My parents were Anglicans in the limited sense that they were not Methodists, Baptists, Presbyterians, Salvation Army or anything else. Dad was quite dedicated, jotting brief prayers in his diary and during parts of his life often attending communion at the parish church. I doubt that he made a conscious decision on this, it was just taken for granted, it had been the family tradition as far back as anyone knew. Mum was different, she was used to village life in Northern Ireland and taught Sunday school at the tiny village church, a simple and plain structure. She was uncomfortable with anything remotely high church, but if you’d asked her what she was she might have said Anglican, or Church of Ireland, or just Christian.
I was Christened when I was little and was encouraged to read the Bible as a child, at home, but more so at junior school and later in RE lessons at secondary school. By the age of 13 I was familiar with the outline contents of the Old and New Testaments, and with many of the stories recorded there. In my teens I was expected to attend confirmation classes and went along out of obedience rather than a desire to be there. In due course I was confirmed, though it didn’t mean much to me and life continued as before. I had not yet begun to grapple with what I did and did not believe.
Growing up
As I went through the processes of sitting my O levels and A levels and applying for a place at university, I began to form my own ideas about faith. For a time I rejected faith of any kind, thinking that science would eventually explain everything. Yet I was intrigued by the Bible and began to take what I read there quite seriously. And I didn’t see much there to support Anglicanism or, indeed, denominations of any kind. The message from the New Testament seemed clear to me, there was supposed to be just one church, not a multiplicity of flavours brought about through a long series of historical disagreements and splits. And what about the many stories of healings, and the parables about how we should live, and the Pauline teachings about gifts of the Spirit, and the letters to churches in the Greek world of the time? I was taking all of this seriously, but saw little evidence that the denominations were doing the same. I explored more widely, visiting the Jehovah’s Witnesses, signing up for a Christadelphian magazine, reading books about the Mormons and Christian Science, but none of these avenues seemed to make much sense to me.
Married life
After graduating from university, getting married, and starting full time jobs, Judy and I spent our Sundays in Bristol doing some serious denominational exploration. We went to Sunday services at every church we could find, and never once had a sense of, ‘This is the one!’. We were searching, but not finding.
Zetland Evangelical Church in 2002
In the end, in utter desperation, we tried a weird place just down the road from our flat. In some ways it seemed more odd than any of the other places we’d tried. It had a large sign above the door in blue and gold reading ‘God is Love’, and didn’t look like a church building, more like a large house. This was Zetland Evangelical Church in Bristol, near the railway arches over the Cheltenham Road. We found to our surprise that we were instantly at home! The people there wanted to talk with us, and they shared some of our own thoughts about what we’d been reading in the Bible. We felt welcomed – as if by a large family. We’d found a real community, which is what we’d long hoped for. Not only that, when I went to a mid-week evening meeting I was blown away by teaching about David, perhaps from 2 Samuel, and a section I was familiar with. The fresh insights and explanations were very striking, here were people who knew their topic – and it all made perfect sense.
We still felt there was more, and we were joining one of those denominational ‘splinter groups’ that so perplexed us. But this was by far the best thing yet. At this point in our lives we would not have settled for Anglican or any other church tradition. We were particularly encouraged by the fact that there was no hierarchy at Zetland, there was no single leader, we were all equal, or so it appeared. There was no liturgy, no pastor, and once a month there was a delightful Sunday morning Open Meeting with nobody at the front and where all could contribute a prayer, a hymn, or some teaching. All, that is, except women and children. This was one of several niggling issues that we put to the back of our minds for the time being.
Eventually we discovered much more – but that’s another story.
Explanatory note – Please don’t think that I’m judging or disapproving of denominations and those who are involved with them. In this short article I’m describing how a much younger Chris Jefferies understood things. I have many non-denominational friends, but also friends from New Frontiers, Anglican, and particularly Baptist traditions. Particularly Baptist simply because at the time of writing I take part in a small home group that meets weekly and is part of Cirencester Baptist Church. I’m not a Baptist, I will not (cannot) become a church member. We are all part of one family, the family of those who follow Jesus. We are all brothers and sisters and we have individual perspectives and expressions of what that means. I honour and love each one as part of an undivided whole.
(Much of this article has been cross-posted to Anglicanism.org)
Journeys of Heart and Mind 