Feeding Mission

Tags

Photography, Religion, The UK

On our last visit to Argyll we actually stopped at a sweet little beach which in the past I had always driven past.  It turned out that although the beach itself is small the shellfish which live around it would appear to be very large if the shells of their deceased counterparts are to be believed.

As it is hard to see size in photographs so we put the cottage keys beside these clam shells:

while this picture shows that even Hubby’s giant hands could hardly hold this oyster shell:

Why this particular beach should have such a large amount of very large shells of all kinds I have no idea there is no industry near-by that might have unwittingly leached something out into the sea and caused this growth, neither is it one of the many areas in Argyll were there is fish farming going on, giving these shellfish an abundance of extra readily available food.  Nor was it just the clams and oysters that were large, there where mussels, welks and limpets all of bigger than usual size.

I was reminded of this beach today when I was thinking about church growth.  Sometimes it can be very difficult to know why any particular church does grow or another church doesn’t grow having ticked all the same mission boxes.  Church growth doesn’t automatically come about by following some formula or another, it is more about faithfully being the people of God in a living community.  That is what helps members of any congregation to grow as individuals, that is what becomes attractive to those who make that first tentative steps inside any church, that is the firm foundations on which a church can grow without danger of collapse.  That isn’t a formula that who we are by our baptism into being part of the body of Christ.  One thing I am certain of is that nutrients are needed, like any other living thing, congregations need to be fed if they are to grow.  I think mission will have an uphill struggle when it is taken as being something separate from the ongoing life of a congregation, I think it falters when it is used as a sticking plaster, and I think it out-and-out fails if it is only about invitation and not about nurture, nurture of those finding faith for the first time and nurture for those who have held their faith for many years.

When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?’ He said to him, ‘Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Feed my lambs.’  A second time he said to him, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me?’ He said to him, ‘Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Tend my sheep.’ He said to him the third time, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me?’ Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, ‘Do you love me?’ And he said to him, ‘Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Feed my sheep.

John 21:15-17

Heading South and Thinking Mission

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Religion

South of the river that is, I do find it strange how the river Clyde divides not only the city of Glasgow itself but also it’s inhabitants.

Having exhausted all hospitals north of the river today I ventured south to the Southern General for a MRI scan.  While waiting for my appointment I got chatting to the staff and asked why I had ended up at the Southern for the scan when an earlier appointment which had been cancelled was at the Western Infirmary, well it transpires it was because I said I didn’t mind crossing the great divide – the Clyde.  There are those who live on the north of the Clyde that view going to the south-side as, as alien as travelling to Mars.  (I can honestly say that it really doesn’t bother me, maybe because I have lived both sides of the river.)  Any way apparently the waiting list for MRI scans at the hospitals north of the river are longer than those on the south because those who live on the north seem to be reluctant to travel for hospital care, I am sure that part of this is down to limitations of the public transport system when a river and its limited crossings are introduced, however seeing that they speak the same language, still drive on the left, there is no need for inoculations, passports or a visa, I didn’t think that venturing the short distance under the river to its southern shores was particularly adventurous so had raised no objections to going to the Southern and hence had got an earlier appointment than I would have had I said I wouldn’t cross the river.

As I was pushed into the chamber loaded into the torpedo tube; for this time as I had the use of my eyes it not only felt like it (the radiotherapy) but looked like it; I got to thinking.  I had hoped to get a nap, but actually it is very noisy and that wasn’t going to be on the cards, so instead I thought.  For many stepping over the church thresh hold is as alien a journey as a north of Glasgow resident going to the south-side.  It is somewhere they don’t venture and have strange impressions of,  what is more even if they do through the doors they will discover somewhere that has a different culture, uses strange words, has peculiar rituals, and sometimes even requires some kind of pre-existing affiliation.  We like to think that we, that is churches, are welcoming communities doors flung wide open for anyone, I can assure you that the people on the south-side of Glasgow think that they are welcoming to those from the north.  It isn’t about what we think we are about and doing, it is about how others perceive us.

We can have the best possible welcome for those who come through our doors, what we mustn’t forget is those who haven’t yet taking that small step which is a giant leap.  Those who because of things that have been said by those inside the church – clerics and laity alike – have perceptions that the church wouldn’t welcome them, doesn’t want to include them and would even slam the door in their face.  For some out there the church is far more threatening and dangerous than the south-side of Glasgow until we grasp and wrestle with that we will still only be playing with the tip of the mission iceberg.

Onward to Christmas

Tags

Liturgical Seasons, Photography, Religion

This afternoon I have spent a very pleasant time wrapping tablet in bright cellophane, tying ribbon and decorating the finished product with little wooden angels on as ‘H’ and I discussed mission.

The tablet will be distributed to the neighbouring houses of All Saints next week as we go carol singing up the street, there was some discussion about whether the tablet or the singing would be most appreciated!

Will people be sick of hearing Slade scream ‘Merry Christmas’ and not want to hear ‘tidings of comfort and joy’, or will it be just the thing to put them in the Christmas spirit?

Will people drop the pretty bag straight in the bin dubious about what it contains, or be touched by the gift and tell their friends and family about it?

Will the wooden angel become an annual addition to their Christmas tree, a tag added to someone elses gift, or kindling for the fire?

Will the bright colours warm their hearts or make them think ‘humbug’?

Will the ring on their bell or knock on their door, disturb their evening or make it?

Outreach and mission usually require a leap of faith, we don’t know what people’s response will be, but we are walking in well trodden footsteps.  Even God didn’t know what the response would be when the Christ Child was gifted to the world to show just how precious and loved we are.  God had previously tried and received a cool reception, however, God still went ahead and so will we.  We aren’t selling anything, collecting for anything or even telling them about our Christmas services (unless they ask) we are just going to spread the love and joy of the season by freely giving them a surprise gift – after all isn’t that what Christmas is all about?

If you would like to join in with the singing and for some ‘adult’ hot chocolate to warm us up afterwards, then be at the church on Tuesday at 7.15pm.

Encounters

There are those who are ordained who shy away from wearing their collar in public, don’t get me wrong I understand the reasoning behind most of that and there are times when I will whip of my collar too.  However, in doing so we miss opportunities, like the one that happened upon me this morning.

I haven’t had time yet since we came back from holiday to do a proper shop, so after Mass this morning I popped across the road to M&S (there is a M&S food shop virtually beside both my churches) to get something for dinner tonight.

I approached the till and after the hello I was greeted with a question.

P – ‘Can I ask an ignorant question?’

Me – ‘I doubt you are any more or less ignorant than me, ask away?’

P – ‘Er … that’, she points to her neck, ‘err thing, does it mean you are a minister.’

Me – Suppressing the temptation to say, well actually I am a priest.  ‘Yes, All Saints, Scottish Episcopal Church, just across the road.’

P – ‘Oh!  What’s the difference between that and the normal church?’

Me – ‘Depends what you call the normal church.’

We stood there as she rang through my shopping discussing the differences between churches, D on the next checkout joined in curious about why I wasn’t a ‘old man’, his words not mine.  After a while other people started to arrive to pay for their shopping so D went back to his till and P told me how much my bill was.

As I picked up my shopping to leave P said: ‘I am a Catholic, haven’t been for a while, might give it another go.’

Me – ‘Good, let me know how you get on.’

Now she isn’t going to join All Saints, but she is maybe going to return back to her own church.  Would she have even been thinking of doing that if I had whipped out my collar before popping in for something for dinner, oh and a maple and pecan yum yum?