When I looked at these readings, there was something that leapt out at me, possibly because as well that with the recent weeks of the lectionary following the debate between Jesus and the different groups in the Jewish hierarchy, it's an issue that has been brought to the fore.
That thing was purity of purpose and also action, and my immediate response was to compare this to the works of John le Carre: with the recent film of Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy I have revisted not just the main three Smiley novels, but also the earlier The Spy who came in from the cold. One of the striking things about these Cold War era novels (which, don't forget, were written by someone who was an insider having worked for MI5 and MI6) is that they dispell any illusions about the Western intelligence operations being particularly any more moral than those of their Soviet counterparts. What mattered was not the means, but the ends: the gaining of the intelligence needed by the Western Governments. Blackmail, the encouragement of disloyalty, the creation of suspicion, making alliances with those who are at best distasteful and at worst downright evil because they suit their purposes. In a way, this hidden world - still in many cases unknown to us - that had the tacit approval of governments of all stripes is a proof of the maxim that the ends justify almost any means.
It happens more widely than that of course. In some cases, it is almost expected that people will be dishonest to get what they want. We've just had something through about applying for a school place for our youngest: how many stories will there be, this year, of people trying to game the system to get their child into the best school? How many insurance claims will be padded?
And yet this is not God's way. Jesus has been angry with his questioners, and is still angry here: because they wish him to say something controversial, because they are not actually interested in his answers, because they wish to try and twist God's word and bend it to their own purposes.
On this latter point, we have to admit that Christians have a far from unblemished record. God's word has been used to justify all manner of things that reflect very badly on the faith: from wars to institutional inequality to failing to protect the vulnerable, there has been (and sadly in many cases continues to be) a use of scripture to justify what should not have been tolerated.
Nevertheless, we are encouraged to be prepared to follow Christ and be pure in motive and action - even when that leads us into uncomfortable places. Paul writes in 1 Thessalonians of how he and his companions, in spite of how they had been treated as Phillippi, still went out and boldy proclaimed their message in Thessalonica.
So are our motives pure? Are mine? Lord have mercy on us, for the times when we fail to be true about our motives, pure in our actions, and honourable in our methods.....
Monday, 17 October 2011
Tuesday, 27 September 2011
Reflectionary: Challenging Authority (Matthew 21:33-46)
One of the first points to make about this reading is that it's well worth putting it into context - specifically last week's reading where the Chief Priests and Elders question Jesus' authority. Jesus has already accused them of not listening to his message - of not recognising where he comes from - now, he questions their own authority and in fact tells them that they are setting themselves against God.
It's tempting - and far too easy - to simply see this as Matthew attacking the Jewish Authorities. After all, isn't this a clear parallel - God as the Vineyard Owner, them as the tenants, the prophets as the servants and then of course Jesus himself the son who is killed? That's certainly one way of looking at it - but the problem I have with this as a preacher is that it runs the risk of coming across as self-congratulatory - that we've got it right, and the temple authorities (not the whole Jewish nation, after all at this point almost all of Jesus' followers are Jewish) have got it wrong, have set themselves against God.
In some ways the thing I want to do is to take this story on, broaden it, turn it into a challenge. Who are the tenants? In context, the Temple Authorities, but if we say God created all of us, then are we not all those tenants? Is it not all of us who have set ourselves against God, who tend not to listen when God calls us, who in fact rely on the reconciling grace of God that Jesus shows us?
And let's take it a step further. This started off about authority, and it should also speak about authority now. It is a challenge to all church leaders, of whatever stripe: are you open to the promptings of God, are you willing to see God doing something different, challenging your understanding? David Lose points out that this passage has been used in part for self-justification by the church - we're following Christ so we know we're right and the others are wrong - but it can also say to us the opposite: God works with and through those who are open to Him, and that sometimes means challenging the established ways of doing things in "The Church". Martin Luther challenged the church. John Wesley challenged the church. So did many others. And in many cases the challenged institution tried to cast them out, silence them, marginalise them. Yet, because they were open to what God wanted them to do, the work they did prospered and continues to this day.
As an institution the Methodist Church is having a bit of a look at itself at the moment, looking at how it can almost get back to its roots - become, as the General Secretary Martyn Atkins put it in his report to Conference, A Discipleship Movement shaped for Mission. My hope and prayer, in the light of this passage from Matthew, is that in doing so we are showing a willingness for the institution I am part of to engage with what God is doing, and be part of it - to not be interested merely in keeping hold of what we have, but to recognise that if we are to be good tenants then we have to listen to what God is telling us and then act upon it. The delight is, as David Lose goes on to say in his article, that God doesn't come and condemn his tenants - us - for going the wrong way, doing the wrong things, but in fact keeps coming to us again and again, prompting us and encouraging us to respond. The resurrection is part of this, and so too is the Holy Spirit: God wants us to join with Him, and He never stops giving us the opportunity to do so.
It's tempting - and far too easy - to simply see this as Matthew attacking the Jewish Authorities. After all, isn't this a clear parallel - God as the Vineyard Owner, them as the tenants, the prophets as the servants and then of course Jesus himself the son who is killed? That's certainly one way of looking at it - but the problem I have with this as a preacher is that it runs the risk of coming across as self-congratulatory - that we've got it right, and the temple authorities (not the whole Jewish nation, after all at this point almost all of Jesus' followers are Jewish) have got it wrong, have set themselves against God.
In some ways the thing I want to do is to take this story on, broaden it, turn it into a challenge. Who are the tenants? In context, the Temple Authorities, but if we say God created all of us, then are we not all those tenants? Is it not all of us who have set ourselves against God, who tend not to listen when God calls us, who in fact rely on the reconciling grace of God that Jesus shows us?
And let's take it a step further. This started off about authority, and it should also speak about authority now. It is a challenge to all church leaders, of whatever stripe: are you open to the promptings of God, are you willing to see God doing something different, challenging your understanding? David Lose points out that this passage has been used in part for self-justification by the church - we're following Christ so we know we're right and the others are wrong - but it can also say to us the opposite: God works with and through those who are open to Him, and that sometimes means challenging the established ways of doing things in "The Church". Martin Luther challenged the church. John Wesley challenged the church. So did many others. And in many cases the challenged institution tried to cast them out, silence them, marginalise them. Yet, because they were open to what God wanted them to do, the work they did prospered and continues to this day.
As an institution the Methodist Church is having a bit of a look at itself at the moment, looking at how it can almost get back to its roots - become, as the General Secretary Martyn Atkins put it in his report to Conference, A Discipleship Movement shaped for Mission. My hope and prayer, in the light of this passage from Matthew, is that in doing so we are showing a willingness for the institution I am part of to engage with what God is doing, and be part of it - to not be interested merely in keeping hold of what we have, but to recognise that if we are to be good tenants then we have to listen to what God is telling us and then act upon it. The delight is, as David Lose goes on to say in his article, that God doesn't come and condemn his tenants - us - for going the wrong way, doing the wrong things, but in fact keeps coming to us again and again, prompting us and encouraging us to respond. The resurrection is part of this, and so too is the Holy Spirit: God wants us to join with Him, and He never stops giving us the opportunity to do so.
Thursday, 22 September 2011
Reflectionary: Questioning Jesus (Mt 21:23-32)
This isn't necessarily what i will preach about on Sunday, but it does give an idea of where my thoughts are going. If it seems a little disjointed, that's because really it's still a work in progress....
You can argue that asking questions is fundamental to who we are. It's a skill that we learn early on, and the key to so much learning is by being prepared to ask questions.
The problem with questions can sometimes be the answers - or, to be more to the point, the temptation to give answers that do not present a full answer to the question. It's sometimes thought that an essential skill for politicians for example is managing to avoid giving a meaningful answer to an awkward question - and so the answer given obscures the true one, or attempts to argue that if there is a fault it is actually with the question asked.
Sometimes answers can be misleading because they are not complete answers. Anyone with children or experience of them will know that when you are continually asked why something is so, or why or how something happens, and each new answer becomes the source of a new question ad infinitum, the temptation is to try and find a way of ceasing the questions with a pat answer - "it just does", "Because", or similar. Some answers are simplifications, a way of trying to offer a partial explanation because the full answer is deemed too difficult; how many schoolchildren are taught Newton's Laws of motion without it being explained that actually these are a low speed approximation - that actually relativistic motion is the way to go and it's just that because unless you're travelling at an appreciable fraction of the speed of light the other factors are close to zero that you can use Newton's laws for most calculations?
Over at Working Preacher Karl Jacobson makes the point that a lot of people ask questions of Jesus - his followers, John the Baptist, the Jewish Authorities, even Pilate. But in most cases the reason for the question is to serve some sort of self-interest - that the questions are often, as in this reading, loaded questions that are designed not to find something out, but to make a point - whether that is to say "look, I'm a really good follower", or to try and get Jesus to say something controversial.
The Chief Priests and Elders are trying to provoke Jesus, trying to make him take a position that sets him against them - and in doing so allows them to diminish his claims. He threatens their authority: they want to call him out. However, they find themselves asked a question that they dare not answer.
One of the points about the question Jesus asks is that it is not merely a way of avoiding their question: it is a clear indication to them that he is indeed the one that John prophesied about. The Priests and Elders dare not attack John; Jesus then uses the parable to accuse them of not actually doing more than pay lip-service to the message of repentance John gave, and that those who would be thought of as having no place with God had in fact demonstrated their desire to be a part of God's Kingdom by their actions.
Faith isn't about not asking questions. It's about asking the right sort of questions, and being prepared to listen to the answers. I do not believe in a God that demands that I accept everything unquestioningly; I do believe in a God that sometimes gives me answers I don't like!
You can argue that asking questions is fundamental to who we are. It's a skill that we learn early on, and the key to so much learning is by being prepared to ask questions.
The problem with questions can sometimes be the answers - or, to be more to the point, the temptation to give answers that do not present a full answer to the question. It's sometimes thought that an essential skill for politicians for example is managing to avoid giving a meaningful answer to an awkward question - and so the answer given obscures the true one, or attempts to argue that if there is a fault it is actually with the question asked.
Sometimes answers can be misleading because they are not complete answers. Anyone with children or experience of them will know that when you are continually asked why something is so, or why or how something happens, and each new answer becomes the source of a new question ad infinitum, the temptation is to try and find a way of ceasing the questions with a pat answer - "it just does", "Because", or similar. Some answers are simplifications, a way of trying to offer a partial explanation because the full answer is deemed too difficult; how many schoolchildren are taught Newton's Laws of motion without it being explained that actually these are a low speed approximation - that actually relativistic motion is the way to go and it's just that because unless you're travelling at an appreciable fraction of the speed of light the other factors are close to zero that you can use Newton's laws for most calculations?
Over at Working Preacher Karl Jacobson makes the point that a lot of people ask questions of Jesus - his followers, John the Baptist, the Jewish Authorities, even Pilate. But in most cases the reason for the question is to serve some sort of self-interest - that the questions are often, as in this reading, loaded questions that are designed not to find something out, but to make a point - whether that is to say "look, I'm a really good follower", or to try and get Jesus to say something controversial.
The Chief Priests and Elders are trying to provoke Jesus, trying to make him take a position that sets him against them - and in doing so allows them to diminish his claims. He threatens their authority: they want to call him out. However, they find themselves asked a question that they dare not answer.
One of the points about the question Jesus asks is that it is not merely a way of avoiding their question: it is a clear indication to them that he is indeed the one that John prophesied about. The Priests and Elders dare not attack John; Jesus then uses the parable to accuse them of not actually doing more than pay lip-service to the message of repentance John gave, and that those who would be thought of as having no place with God had in fact demonstrated their desire to be a part of God's Kingdom by their actions.
Faith isn't about not asking questions. It's about asking the right sort of questions, and being prepared to listen to the answers. I do not believe in a God that demands that I accept everything unquestioningly; I do believe in a God that sometimes gives me answers I don't like!
Saturday, 17 September 2011
Reflectionary: The workers in the Vineyard
Based on Matthew 20:1-16. Rather than a sermon this week, I decided to do something a little different - more in the style of a meditation. Maybe I'll post a comment telling people how it goes.....
I am going to try and take you back through time, back more than 2000 years, and tell you a story. It may well never have happened, but that doesn't mean that it's not true: for this is one of the stories that Jesus used to tell his listeners what God is like. Before us is a man, a working man much like any other.....
At the time, I was so angry. I couldn't understand why someone could be so unfair. You might laugh now, tell me that I had no right, but you weren't the one who was there and I was.
It was a hot day, and I stood at the hiring place hoping that I would be one of the lucky ones. Work is hard to come by, and if I don't work, I don't eat - and neither do my family. This day, I was lucky: a day's work in the Vineyard, picking the fruit. Off we went, and because we knew it was easy to replace us, we got on with it. There was plenty to do - it was a big vineyard. A long day's work in the heat of the sun lay ahead of us - but the reward, the wages, would be worth it.
You have to get a harvest in quickly, so it wasn't a big surprise when in the middle of the morning a few more came in to work; there was still plenty to do, and as lunchtime came and then mid-afternoon, more workers arrived. I felt a bit sorry for them - half a wage may be better than none, but too many half wages and you'll soon feel the hunger in your belly.
It was coming to the end of the day when even more arrived; it hardly seemed worth their while coming, they were only there for about an hour. Still, you don't turn down work if you want to eat, even if an hour's wage will only buy you enough for one small meal.
When they went up to collect their wages though, they got given a full day's wage. As one of the first hired, I couldn't help but think about what was coming to me: if that was what they got for one hour, surely I'd be getting enough to feed the family for a week. I started working it out: what I would buy, where I would keep the rest of the money, whether I was going to let myself have a day off sometime soon or just use it as a backup in case i didn't get hired.
One days wage. One lousy, mean, day's wage - exactly the same as the ones who'd stood around for most of the day got. All that work, the sun beating down, and I got the same as someone who had worked for an hour. How can you tell me that's fair?
The problem was, I'd agreed to it. As he pointed out when I complained, I hadn't been cheated by him - I'd got exactly what was promised. It was tempting to think that I should have just hung around waiting for evening before getting hired, but it doesn't work like that - you have to take what you can, when you can. Even so, I thought I had good reason to be unhappy.
I took my wages and walked away, heading for home. As I walked, lost in my own thoughts, I barely noticed until I bumped into him one of those who'd worked for an hour. To my amazement, he was crying; not in pain, but in joy. I didn't know him, but I had seen him around; a small bloke, a bit older, one of the ones that sometimes didn't get hired because the landowners want the strongest, fittest and youngest workers. He was speechless with the joy of what he had been given. And then I remembered the time last year when no-one hired me for a whole week, of the despair, the wondering why I wasn't being picked. And the joy when someone finally gave me a job. And do you know something? I cried too.
I am going to try and take you back through time, back more than 2000 years, and tell you a story. It may well never have happened, but that doesn't mean that it's not true: for this is one of the stories that Jesus used to tell his listeners what God is like. Before us is a man, a working man much like any other.....
At the time, I was so angry. I couldn't understand why someone could be so unfair. You might laugh now, tell me that I had no right, but you weren't the one who was there and I was.
It was a hot day, and I stood at the hiring place hoping that I would be one of the lucky ones. Work is hard to come by, and if I don't work, I don't eat - and neither do my family. This day, I was lucky: a day's work in the Vineyard, picking the fruit. Off we went, and because we knew it was easy to replace us, we got on with it. There was plenty to do - it was a big vineyard. A long day's work in the heat of the sun lay ahead of us - but the reward, the wages, would be worth it.
You have to get a harvest in quickly, so it wasn't a big surprise when in the middle of the morning a few more came in to work; there was still plenty to do, and as lunchtime came and then mid-afternoon, more workers arrived. I felt a bit sorry for them - half a wage may be better than none, but too many half wages and you'll soon feel the hunger in your belly.
It was coming to the end of the day when even more arrived; it hardly seemed worth their while coming, they were only there for about an hour. Still, you don't turn down work if you want to eat, even if an hour's wage will only buy you enough for one small meal.
When they went up to collect their wages though, they got given a full day's wage. As one of the first hired, I couldn't help but think about what was coming to me: if that was what they got for one hour, surely I'd be getting enough to feed the family for a week. I started working it out: what I would buy, where I would keep the rest of the money, whether I was going to let myself have a day off sometime soon or just use it as a backup in case i didn't get hired.
One days wage. One lousy, mean, day's wage - exactly the same as the ones who'd stood around for most of the day got. All that work, the sun beating down, and I got the same as someone who had worked for an hour. How can you tell me that's fair?
The problem was, I'd agreed to it. As he pointed out when I complained, I hadn't been cheated by him - I'd got exactly what was promised. It was tempting to think that I should have just hung around waiting for evening before getting hired, but it doesn't work like that - you have to take what you can, when you can. Even so, I thought I had good reason to be unhappy.
I took my wages and walked away, heading for home. As I walked, lost in my own thoughts, I barely noticed until I bumped into him one of those who'd worked for an hour. To my amazement, he was crying; not in pain, but in joy. I didn't know him, but I had seen him around; a small bloke, a bit older, one of the ones that sometimes didn't get hired because the landowners want the strongest, fittest and youngest workers. He was speechless with the joy of what he had been given. And then I remembered the time last year when no-one hired me for a whole week, of the despair, the wondering why I wasn't being picked. And the joy when someone finally gave me a job. And do you know something? I cried too.
Saturday, 3 September 2011
Job Advert: Or, the importance of reading between the lines
Inspired by what this afternoon has held for me....
"An exciting opportunity has arisen to work pastorally alongside the Minister. You will be working in a fruitful field, helping the Minister in Worship Preparation and work with young people. You will be fully equipped for your task, and need to demonstrate the ability to 'run the race before you' no matter what. An attention to detail will be crucial."
Translation: The Minister needs someone to come and cut the grass at the Manse. It's a big lawn, and it grows quick. If you can come and do it every week it will mean that he can get on with Sunday's service or maybe go out with the kids. The Lawn mower is in the shed. Don't leave it half done even if it starts raining. Oh, and there's a strimmer in there as well.
"An exciting opportunity has arisen to work pastorally alongside the Minister. You will be working in a fruitful field, helping the Minister in Worship Preparation and work with young people. You will be fully equipped for your task, and need to demonstrate the ability to 'run the race before you' no matter what. An attention to detail will be crucial."
Translation: The Minister needs someone to come and cut the grass at the Manse. It's a big lawn, and it grows quick. If you can come and do it every week it will mean that he can get on with Sunday's service or maybe go out with the kids. The Lawn mower is in the shed. Don't leave it half done even if it starts raining. Oh, and there's a strimmer in there as well.
Thursday, 11 August 2011
Praying for Peace in Manchester
After Tuesday night's riots and Wednesday's Cleanup in Central Manchester, the rain seemed to have washed away the desire to riot on Wednesday Evening; it's rained during today (Thursday) as well, but that didn't stop a group of people meeting up at Piccadilly Gardens just after 5pm this evening.
There was some milling around, people talking to those they knew, a sense of anticipation as the police watched on. And then, the events got underway.
It started with a man and woman addressing the crowd, and leaflets being handed out. Suddenly the group had purpose, and as we stood there we said together a prayer for peace, and sang a song - modified for the occasion by the writer, Shirley Erena Murray, who is based in New Zealand - the words of which can be found here.
The group - about 60 strong - had come together through Faith Network 4 Manchester and included members of several different Christian groups, Muslims, Jews, Sikhs, Buddhists, Quakers, and others of different faiths - or even no faith at all. (For a few pictures see here.) It gathered as a response to the riots - not to campaign against them, but to do something positive by showing that people of different faiths can stand together in the cause of peace.
After singing, and joining together in a large circle, people talked. Whatever our faith or ethnic backgrounds, we had gathered to make common purpose and at least in the conversations I was part of and heard, there was plenty of tolerance and mutual respect - the way it should be.
Going into Manchester for the first time since the rioting was a bit strange. I parked at Printworks, my normal spot, and everything seemed pretty normal - more police than normal, but the Arndale was still open and everything looked intact until I reached Jessops. I didn't get the chance to play tourist and gawp at Oldham Street or Miss Selfridge, but those involved in the cleanup seem to have done a good job. The police presence was noticable as you'd expect, and at the time of writing there seems to have been little further trouble. I can't claim any credit for that - I suspect the weather and the police presence has been more in any rioters mind than the presence of a bunch of religious people hanging around Piccadilly Gardens - but if nothing else it's a sign that some of the things that may be thought to divide us need not do so, and a positive message - a message of people working together for peace - has been seen where two nights ago violence and disorder ruled the roost.
There was some milling around, people talking to those they knew, a sense of anticipation as the police watched on. And then, the events got underway.
It started with a man and woman addressing the crowd, and leaflets being handed out. Suddenly the group had purpose, and as we stood there we said together a prayer for peace, and sang a song - modified for the occasion by the writer, Shirley Erena Murray, who is based in New Zealand - the words of which can be found here.
The group - about 60 strong - had come together through Faith Network 4 Manchester and included members of several different Christian groups, Muslims, Jews, Sikhs, Buddhists, Quakers, and others of different faiths - or even no faith at all. (For a few pictures see here.) It gathered as a response to the riots - not to campaign against them, but to do something positive by showing that people of different faiths can stand together in the cause of peace.
After singing, and joining together in a large circle, people talked. Whatever our faith or ethnic backgrounds, we had gathered to make common purpose and at least in the conversations I was part of and heard, there was plenty of tolerance and mutual respect - the way it should be.
Going into Manchester for the first time since the rioting was a bit strange. I parked at Printworks, my normal spot, and everything seemed pretty normal - more police than normal, but the Arndale was still open and everything looked intact until I reached Jessops. I didn't get the chance to play tourist and gawp at Oldham Street or Miss Selfridge, but those involved in the cleanup seem to have done a good job. The police presence was noticable as you'd expect, and at the time of writing there seems to have been little further trouble. I can't claim any credit for that - I suspect the weather and the police presence has been more in any rioters mind than the presence of a bunch of religious people hanging around Piccadilly Gardens - but if nothing else it's a sign that some of the things that may be thought to divide us need not do so, and a positive message - a message of people working together for peace - has been seen where two nights ago violence and disorder ruled the roost.
Sunday, 7 August 2011
Baptism, Communion, and Technology
This morning saw me, for the first time, trying to combine a Baptism and Communion. In hindsight, trying to also make this my first major use of a projector and laptop at the same church might not have been the best idea... There was however something I got right that had nothing to do with technology, and everything to do with understanding my context.
The usual congregation are, as they would say themselves, young at heart rather than in any other way. There were probably more that came for the baptism than came because they are normally there, and with a group that were not overly familiar with church, I wanted to try and avoid having too many books to juggle and pages to find. So various bits of liturgy and hymns, together with some appropriate images, were put into a 40 slide presentation to go on the projector screen that is a permanent fixture on the wall.
Unfortunately, the screen's motorised mechanism had it seemed been causing trouble - a fuse was gone, and until it was sorted then we were going to be distinctly low tech!
It was eventually sorted out, but with the limited time to set up and the family arriving it was hardly ideal preparation to lead worship. And, it turned out, there was no-one standing by to press the buttons - leaving me to try and do my best with a wireless mouse that wasn't playing nice. After the baptism itself, I gave up on the technology other than to display a couple of images. One lesson is that especially when you're working with liturgy, make sure that someone else is there to press the buttons!
Fortunately - and this may be where my experience of working with IT comes in - I was prepared for this eventuality. All the hymns were also in the hymnbooks in the pews - and all the responses were on a sheet I'd printed in sufficient quantity for people to have sight of. I didn't have to worry too much about the tech failing, and I can learn for next time. I'm already thinking that it might be better to be less ambitious - maybe a few images and the hymns is enough, as after all not everyone will always be able to read from a screen, especially when it is not ideally positioned for the task.
Where things went right was that I took a little time before Communion to explain what we were doing, why we were doing it, and how we were doing it. I didn't use theological language, I tried to pitch it at their level, and I had written my own Prayer of Thanksgiving. Many from the baptismal party came up, mostly to receive a blessing.
Afterwards, one of the regular congregation told me that I had done something out of the ordinary by explaining about Communion - something that apparently other ministers having to combine Baptism and Communion had not done at that church.
Is this true? There are many Ministers I have followed there, some of whom I know and have much respect for. Was I really the first to do this? Maybe not, but it certainly something to reflect on.
The point is that it showed the importance of context. I was very aware of the lack of experience many there had of church in general and communion in particular: these days, many (if not most) only have contact with church for special occasions, and with the rise of alternate wedding venues and Crem-only funerals, often with little or no religious input, the number of those special occasions is even lower. I do not say this to bemoan the situation, it is merely an observation. So when people do come to church, one cannot assume that they know anything about what we are about, what our sacraments are for, or whether they are welcome to join in with them. This places a responsibility on those of us who lead worship on these occasions, to be prepared to explain a bit more than normal and to adjust things to a degree.
It also places another responsibility on us: to present the Good News to those who have joined us for this occasion. By having Baptism as part of a public act of worship, there is an opportunity to do this. However if people feel unwelcome, if they feel excluded because they don't understand what is going on, that opportunity could be easily lost.
The usual congregation are, as they would say themselves, young at heart rather than in any other way. There were probably more that came for the baptism than came because they are normally there, and with a group that were not overly familiar with church, I wanted to try and avoid having too many books to juggle and pages to find. So various bits of liturgy and hymns, together with some appropriate images, were put into a 40 slide presentation to go on the projector screen that is a permanent fixture on the wall.
Unfortunately, the screen's motorised mechanism had it seemed been causing trouble - a fuse was gone, and until it was sorted then we were going to be distinctly low tech!
It was eventually sorted out, but with the limited time to set up and the family arriving it was hardly ideal preparation to lead worship. And, it turned out, there was no-one standing by to press the buttons - leaving me to try and do my best with a wireless mouse that wasn't playing nice. After the baptism itself, I gave up on the technology other than to display a couple of images. One lesson is that especially when you're working with liturgy, make sure that someone else is there to press the buttons!
Fortunately - and this may be where my experience of working with IT comes in - I was prepared for this eventuality. All the hymns were also in the hymnbooks in the pews - and all the responses were on a sheet I'd printed in sufficient quantity for people to have sight of. I didn't have to worry too much about the tech failing, and I can learn for next time. I'm already thinking that it might be better to be less ambitious - maybe a few images and the hymns is enough, as after all not everyone will always be able to read from a screen, especially when it is not ideally positioned for the task.
Where things went right was that I took a little time before Communion to explain what we were doing, why we were doing it, and how we were doing it. I didn't use theological language, I tried to pitch it at their level, and I had written my own Prayer of Thanksgiving. Many from the baptismal party came up, mostly to receive a blessing.
Afterwards, one of the regular congregation told me that I had done something out of the ordinary by explaining about Communion - something that apparently other ministers having to combine Baptism and Communion had not done at that church.
Is this true? There are many Ministers I have followed there, some of whom I know and have much respect for. Was I really the first to do this? Maybe not, but it certainly something to reflect on.
The point is that it showed the importance of context. I was very aware of the lack of experience many there had of church in general and communion in particular: these days, many (if not most) only have contact with church for special occasions, and with the rise of alternate wedding venues and Crem-only funerals, often with little or no religious input, the number of those special occasions is even lower. I do not say this to bemoan the situation, it is merely an observation. So when people do come to church, one cannot assume that they know anything about what we are about, what our sacraments are for, or whether they are welcome to join in with them. This places a responsibility on those of us who lead worship on these occasions, to be prepared to explain a bit more than normal and to adjust things to a degree.
It also places another responsibility on us: to present the Good News to those who have joined us for this occasion. By having Baptism as part of a public act of worship, there is an opportunity to do this. However if people feel unwelcome, if they feel excluded because they don't understand what is going on, that opportunity could be easily lost.
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