Yes, there’s been a spate of funerals …
First there was Tina. Yes, life was a struggle for Tina; she’d suffered serious mental health issues for much of her adult life and had been in and out of hospital many times. The weaknesses, however, seemed to have given room for God (now, that is scriptural) and I felt humbled for I had no idea that she had made such an impact on so many people. I mean that room, full of people, saying their goodbyes, was packed. She had loved many ... the tears spoke for themselves.
A few weeks before she died, Tina had made a vow of celibacy. I was there, in the room, while she made it; she was earnest, just wanting to live her life fully for Jesus because she loved Him and wanted to live it singly for Him. We didn’t know …
Well, I didn’t receive a personal invitation to Margaret’s but watching on iplayer and leaving politics aside, I can’t help being a not-so-secret admirer of someone who had the humungous courage of their convictions - and however did she climb through the ranks, battling with the enormous male prejudice that must have waged so heavily against her? She deserved a good send off, I reckon – and, as I said, leaving politics aside.
Gladys, 87, an old lady, struggling with bodily weaknesses and who, it appears, tried many things in life and sometimes seemed to fail: missionary work, book selling, church planting - but actually greatly succeeded in the things that really matter: ‘loving the brethren,’ loving the poor, prayerful, humble and glad service. Gladys, your funeral encouraged me; some things I’ve worked at for years have failed. For instance, I’ve spent 26 years of my life church planting/growing in Nottingham only for the scene to eventually fold. Looking at your life encourages me: I’d never say you failed at all because you won, hands down, on the eternal things that really matter.
Funerals can be awful but, in remembering, in learning from, in honouring and being grateful for the deceased, they can be brilliant occasions and one of God’s prime ways of getting through to us. Stopping still in the midst of our busy lives, time seems to stands on hold for a little while and carries a unique poignancy. We need such times; speak to us, God.
Spring is in the air ... I can hear the dull drone of a worker honey bee; see, there she is - hovering and settling down a brief while upon the subtle-fresh-pink petals of the apple blossom or, irresistibly enticed by the sugary-sweet nectar, crawling into the inner recesses of a foxglove or the cone of a bluebell’s bowing head, hidden quietly in the shade.
These restfully-busy creatures are intent upon one thing only: to collect the pollen and nectar needed for the well-being and prosperity of the hive.
Brushing against the pollen-covered anthers of the plants, inadvertently collecting that precious powdery dust and carrying it with them, from flower to flower, they so happen to be about one of nature’s most vital tasks – uniting male cells (within the pollen) and female parts (the ovules within the pistils at the centre of the plant) to bring about a fertilised seed – what genius - the beginnings of a new plant.
It is claimed Albert Einstein said, "If the bee disappeared off the surface of the globe, man would have only four years to live". Whether he did say this and whether he is overstating a fact I don’t know. Let’s just say, bees play a crucial role in the cross-pollination of much of our plant life.
I think it is fair to say that these busy honey bees have a conscious and unconscious task, one intentional, the other quite unintentional.
We Christians set about our daily lives, to live, to work and hopefully to pray - to God. This is our conscious task. Sometimes we evangelise, again a conscious act. But what is it we unconsciously achieve? Like the honey bee, this is usually quite unknown to us. God’s designs arch high above the smallness of our human desires and plans.
Earlier this week I was discussing with some friends what heaven must be like. I said that perhaps one of the greatest pleasures of that place will be that we are blissfully conscious of the fruit of our lives - not what we can see now but what has actually been achieved by the laying down of our lives, by our daily surrender to Jesus Christ. For many it will be shocking – brilliantly so. But now we are unaware of perhaps the greatest tasks God has given us – like the humble honey bee.
See my blog 'Nothing Big, Perhaps Not' (18/1/12) for an example of what I mean.
Luke 5: 1-11
Can you imagine the scene? A tired Peter, first weary from a fruitless haul and now exhausted by a massive haul of fish, throws himself down at Jesus’ feet saying: “Choose someone else better than me – go, leave me!” and Jesus’ heartening words: “Don’t be discouraged or afraid; I’m bringing radical redirection to your life: you will be fishing for disciples." (My paraphrase).
I reckon, in that moment, for Peter, Jesus ceased to be an exceptional rabbi; He became the one who demanded nothing less than everything and life would never be the same. What Peter perhaps did not realise was that his sense of unworthiness was the very thing that qualified him for the task He felt so unfit to do.
This was one of Peter’s conversions - I reckon those who, like Peter, choose to continue to follow Jesus have many such 'conversions' when we make an inward realignment, a choice that alters the course on which we are set, plunging us into a deeper surrender to God’s will.
Peter, Peter, two steps forward, one step back. We see that pattern in your life but I guess we’re all a little like that. But even two steps forward, one step back is progress – and look where it got you in the end!
As long as these ‘conversions’ continue to take place, I’m happy.
Now, the church I belong to is a second generation church; 'chapter two' of the story, we call it. Perhaps you get the picture, the fire has died down a bit - we all acknowledge that.
I've noticed the tendency is to panic a little to preserve; there's an inclination to a knee-jerk reaction to create rules to safeguard what we have; I can understand this but believe it's not the best way to stoke the fire.
I think we need pace setters, front-runners in the race, people we can follow. Yes, we know who they are. Steven, the first martyr, was one in the early church; he wasn't an apostle but he was a pace-setter. People like that around convict us of our selfishness, show us we've slowed down and hopefully make us want to run faster too. After all, the writer of Hebrews didn't say walk the race, jog along as best you can; he wrote, 'run the race'(Hebrews 12:1).
“Hey, hey I can't keep up;” “I feel, well, just a little threatened by this one’s zeal.” This is no time for feelings of inferiority but rejoicing in another's strength; followers become leaders. One of the marks of Christ-likeness is the joy in seeing others do better than ourselves: John the Baptist was a true hero when he said of Jesus, “He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:30 NKJ).
Isaiah, prophesying Messiah’ s golden age said: “The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb ... and a little child shall lead them” (Isaiah 11:6 NKJ). These pace-setters need not be recognised leaders; they’ve just got to be lovers – of God, of His people, of every sort of person.
Young generation lead us on; we’ll try not to mind being followers; we just want to get there together!
