Old Age. Adventure. NoretirementinGod'skingdom.

I heard and read three things this week which got me pondering my contribution to life. The first was from an organisation called Our Daily Bread which gives reflections on a Bible reading plan. It talks about a an ancient lure used to catch trout:

"Fishermen still use this lure today. It is called the Red Hackle. First used over 2,200 years ago, it remains a snare for trout by which we “get the better of them.”
As the years add up, God's faithfulness keeps multiplying.

When I read that ancient work I thought:Not all old things are passé—especially people. If through contented and cheerful old age we show others the fullness and deepness of God, we’ll be useful to the end of our days. Old age does not have to focus on declining health, pining over what once was. It can also be full of tranquility and mirth and courage and kindness, the fruit of those who have grown old with God.

“Those who are planted in the house of the Lord . . . shall still bear fruit in old age; they shall be fresh and flourishing” (Ps. 92:13–14 nkjv).

Lord, thank You for Your faithfulness throughout our lives. Help us finish our lives well in service to You and to remember that old age does not mean uselessness.

As the years add up, God’s faithfulness keeps multiplying."

The second was a reflection and celebration on Jackie Pullinger's life, as she has served God so faithfully and pioneeringly in Hong Kong for the last FIFTY years. It was by Pete Greig, founder of 24-7, He says: "Giving thanks today for this woman whose resilient witness over FIFTY years has impacted millions of lives, including my own. Whilst working with Jackie Pullinger I found my faith, discovered the power of prayer, saw that women can lead as well as men, smuggled bibles, ate dog-meat, chased men in pyjamas through Kowloon, and came to understand God's fundamental passion for justice.

Without Jackie Pullinger there might well still be a 24-7Prayer movement but I'm not sure I would ever have had the joy of being part of it. Thank you Jackie for changing this one life."

And the third was hearing about a very elderly member of my church. When my dear friend Renee went into a residential home, little Margaret Le Page faithfully posted Renee the weekly church newsletter, with a handwritten note of encouragement. Now she herself is in a nursing home, but she prays for the church members and phones them to ask how they are so that she knows more specifically how to pray for them. All she has is an armchair and a phone... and a heart willing to serve the Lord in any way she can.

As Cat and Andy prepare to go to Iraq, serving refugees, I reflect on what I have done for my life to serve God. And yes, I know it's not about DOING but BEING the best person God has designed me to be, but nevertheless.... doing is outworking of being. The most 'Jackie Pullinger' type of thing I have ever done is to teach in a bush school in Africa for a couple of years.  And spend the rest of my life trying to work out how to live better. I said 'yes' to Jesus forty odd years ago and have been trying to work out what that means and how to do it best every since.

So, nearing retirement from paid work in a couple of years, I, as I suspect others of my age do, start to reflect on how much time I have left on this earth and what I can do with it. If I were to die in a year's time, what would I do now?  

Not sure.  But it's good to reflect, be intentional... and not take myself too seriously. As in these videos:

Love, not 'works'

"the great truth that if once a man gets it into his head that God’s principal relation to him is to demand, and to command, you will get no work out of that man; that such a notion will paralyse all activity and cut the nerve of all service. And the converse is as true, namely, that the one thought about God, which is fruitful of all blessing, joy, spontaneous, glad activity, is the thought of Him as giving, and not of demanding, of bestowing, and not of commanding. Teach a man that he is, as the book of James has it,’the giving God,’ and let that thought soak into the man’s heart and mind, and you will get any work out of him. And only when that thought is deep in the spirit will there be true service." Comment on 2 Peter 1, Maclaren's commentary.

Grace, not works.

Receiving love, not trying to earn it.

Gratitude, not guilt.

Easter Sunday

There is SO much wisdom written and spoken about the Easter story. I'll reference some gems here, but what has stuck in my mind this morning is the need to pursue Jesus. Not a command or a requirement but a basic underlying truth that it is NEED FOR MY SOUL.

I read (in Emotionally Healthy Spirituality Day by Day by Peter Scazzero) Martha's story in Luke 
"The Lord and his disciples were traveling along and came to a village. When they got there, a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. She had a sister named Mary, who sat down in front of the Lord and was listening to what he said. Martha was worried about all that had to be done. Finally, she went to Jesus and said, “Lord, doesn’t it bother you that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her to come and help me!”

The Lord answered, “Martha, Martha! You are worried and upset about so many things,  but only one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen what is best, and it will not be taken away from her.”

I notice several things about this story.
I notice that Jesus was welcomed by Martha.
I notice it was Martha's home.
I notice that Martha served but Mary gave her welcoming presence. 

Welcoming presence. In Africa, when I was invited to a home, it was a huge occasion. There is no room for casual visits in African society. Every visitor is treated as a welcomed guest. You are ushered into the best room or found a comfortable spot to sit in outside, while your hosts prepare food. If possible, meat will be prepared: in rural homes, a chicken or a goat will be slaughtered. Cooking takes time. The visitor sits in splendid state, sometimes for hours and hours.

That does not happen in Europe. A visitor is offered a cup of tea or coffee perhaps, but the hosts welcome the visitor with their presence, sitting and talking. This is what Mary was doing. She sat and listened to Jesus as he spoke with his disciples. Although she elevated herself to the status of a man, sitting 'at his feet' like a rabbi's disciple, Jesus did not chastise her for flouting cultural norms. He was, after all, the master of alternative action when it came to do what was expected by society. Instead, he praised her for assuming the role of a disciple.

And I thought: this is what Jesus wants of me.
He doesn't want me primarily to serve - though I will do so.
He doesn't want me to speak well of my acquaintance with him - he doesn't need my praise.
He wants me to be with him. To spend time in His presence. To listen to what he says. To pursue relationship with him.

So I am learning, again, to slow down into silence as preparation for reading his words. Precious words about and from The Word. When I choose, like this, what is best, it will not be taken from me.

And Martha? Well, yes.
Martha, in her busyness, was missing the most precious thing of all - being with Jesus. Many people gain tremendous satisfaction from having provided a pleasurable experience for someone else by giving them a good meal, But the time spent preparing could be time better spent with people. Martha must - again, counter culturally - must have had an inkling of this.
Perhaps Mary usually helped, and Martha felt neglected and hard done by.
Perhaps Martha recognised how valuable time with Jesus was, and wanted to hurry the preparations so she, too, could be with him.
Perhaps she was so concerned - not just about the food - that she couldn't focus on the wonder of having Jesus in her home. He recognised that she had 'many' worries - what they were, we can only speculate. Perhaps ill health in the family. Lack of money. Perhaps Mary had special needs, or was very immature. Perhaps nobody wanted to marry and give social status to either of these women. We don't know, but Jesus did. He reminded her of what was most important.

But Martha also points to a different aspect of following Jesus. The way of following him with service. How, when we know him and spend time in his presence, we can't help but begin to see the (many) needs around us with his eyes. We then long to help, and start serving.

Martha's serving was sacrificial and costly. Hospitality costs time and money, precious resources in a simple society where people would work from morning and night without break. When I reflect on African hospitality, often it would be for one or two honoured guests: but Martha opened up her home to Jesus AND his disciples. How many was that? We know he had twelve close followers who he chose to hang out with: but there would surely have been more, tagging along. I think of the work involved in hosting 13 men with hearty appetites and I shudder.

Martha served sacrificially and at great cost to herself.
Martha should not be pitied as having 'missed the boat' but admired for her sacrificial love.

And so I come back to Easter. To Giles Fraser, vicar of St Mary's Newington in London, who writes in the Guardian about Jesus' sacrifice which we 'celebrate' at Easter. (I have a personal difficulty about celebrating his death and sacrifice, which probably means that I haven't completely grasped the glory of the cross.)
"In a world where we semaphore our successes to each other at every possible opportunity, churches cannot be blamed for failing to live up to this austere and wonderful message. The worst of them judge their success in entirely worldly terms, by counting their followers. Their websites show images of happy, uncomplicated people doing good improving stuff in the big community. But if I am right about the meaning of Christ’s passion, then a church is at its best when it fails, when it gives up on all the ecclesiastical glitter, when the weeds start to break through the floor, and when it shows others that failure is absolutely nothing of the sort. This is the site of real triumph, the moment of success. Failure is redeemed. Hallelujah."

During the last few days, we have spoken, often of how: "It's Friday, but Sunday's coming."


And Francis Chan finishes this reflection: