I sum these topics up on my Twitter profile as biology, web, science, technology, family, faith, history, and travel.
Having recently restarted blogging after a long pause, I’ve been thinking through how best to move forward – what should I change, what should I drop, and what should I keep?
Today’s post explains some of this, I’ll share what I’m doing and what I plan to do next. I’ll consider any comments you may leave, either here on the blog, or on Twitter or Facebook. But here’s how I see things right now.
Buy me a coffee
I’m offering everything I publish for free, but will always be delighted to receive a small gift, especially if you have sold or republished something (though even then it’s optional). Details are at coffee.scilla.org.uk .
Cruising the Gospel
This is a moribund blog that I’m in the process of restarting. I’m not sure yet whether to continue it in its present form, or to roll it into Journeys of Heart and Mind (JHM) as a topic in its own right. Currently I’m inclined to keep it as it is, and perhaps generate some PDFs from each book I complete. See it at gospel.scilla.org.uk .
Gateway
My Gateway site is mainly for my own use, but it’s full of links about Cirencester (my home town in England), local time and weather, some Christian links, local and national news, science and technology links and so forth. Some of you might like to take a peek. If so, head to gate.scilla.org.uk .
JDMC
JDMC stands for Jesus, Disciple, Mission, Church and is an introduction to Alan Hirsch’s Forgotten Ways. To learn more and download a copy to print (or read online), visit jdmc.scilla.org.uk . I need to update this booklet and plan to when I have time, unfortunately the web links in the PDF open OK, but using the browser to return take you back to the title page; I’ve been unable to fix this so far. If you open the links in a new tab you’ll be OK, but it’s easy to forget.
Journeys of Heart and mind
I intend to continue with this more or less as it stands. That means a mix of topics will appear here, articles about all of the things that motivate me as they occur to me (so in no particular order). I sum these topics up on my Twitter profile as biology, web, science, technology, family, faith, history, and travel. Others include photography, astronomy, spaceflight, archaeology and a few more. One thing I will add is a way of seeing just posts on one of these topics at a time, I think that will be useful; not everyone wants to see everything. You’re reading on this site at the moment.
Photos
I use Smugmug to display my photos and will continue with this, but I need to rearrange things in topic folders to make it more usable. Visit photos.scilla.org.uk to browse my all time favourites.
Twitter
My main Twitter account is ChrisJJ, but I have a second account, JHM. I haven’t used the JHM account for a long while, but might post tweets about faith topics there, and everything else on ChrisJJ. My mind is far from made up on this as there are quite a few pros and cons.
The stonework to turn doorways into windows suggests a change of use at some time after the building was first erected
This dilapidated, old building, of lovely Cotswold limestone (including the roof) stands inside Cirencester Park at the end of Barton Lane. It’s part of The Barton Farm, along with the ancient nearby dovecote and magnificent, old barn.
But what was its original purpose? If it could speak it would no doubt have an interesting tale to tell. What might it say?
A row of cottages
I was row of cottages, full of the sounds of children playing in the sunshine, chopping and stirring sounds from a kitchen table indoors, smoke rising into the air from my chimneys. How many families lived in me? How many were born here, lived and worked here, died here?
Stables
I was a row of stables, my partly built up doorways were once open and inside each one was a stall for a horse. Inside I would have smelled of horses, sweat, droppings, and in a room at the back I would have had the aroma of well cared-for leather – saddles, harness, heavy collars for pulling.
Storage shed
I was a place where valuable implements were stored and cared for. Oiled steel hoes, shovels, spades and rakes with well-worn wooden handles. An old plough, a harrow, scythes. Or perhaps I was used to store fruit from the orchard, and sacks of seed for sowing crops in winter or spring.
A base for farm workers
I was a bothy where the farm workers would gather to eat bread and cheese and perhaps a mug of cider. I’d be used for breakfast, a mid morning break, or a mug of hot tea on a cold afternoon, a shelter from heavy rain. Perhaps there was banter, silly tasks given to the youngest worker, ‘Go and fetch me the glass hammer from the big house, ask the Master for it – politely like’.
There are some clues
The stonework to turn doorways into windows suggests a change of use at some time after the building was first erected. There are two brick chimneys, so clearly there were regular fires. Maybe the far end was a dwelling while the right end was a workshop, or a smithy, or a place for basket-making, or laundry.
If you have other thoughts on what this place might once have been, or you live locally and know for sure, why not leave a comment?
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)
It’s good to be out and about to see it all and just as good to get back to a warm house.
Castle Street in Cirencester
Season’s greetings to all my readers! Cirencester is showing off its tasteful street decorations once again, the days are short, the nights are long, and it’s good to be out and about to see it all and just as good to get back to a warm house afterwards.
My thoughts are especially with those who have no warm house to come back to this year, there are so many – the homeless sleeping alone in shop doorways, refugees desperately crossing the sea and hoping for asylum, and people who do have a roof over their heads but lack money for presents for the children or depend on food banks for their next meal.
Life can be wonderful, fun, exciting. It can also be tough, exhausting, and depressing. Whoever you are, whatever your circumstances, my prayer and hope is that people will be kind to you, there will be new opportunities in your life, and that there’ll be reasons to hope and overcome the difficulties.
And if your life is comfortable and you have more than enough, my prayer and hope is that you will be kind to others, search out new opportunities for them, and provide reasons for hope and ways to overcome difficulties.
None of us can solve all of the problems; but all of us can solve some of the problems.
This was the family business, founded in 1795. It prospered for many years, growing and selling nursery stock to other businesses, the government, and to the general public. It ceased trading in 1984 and the garden centre business was sold to Country Gardens PLC, although the company was not officially dissolved until 1994.
Journeys of Heart and Mind 