Flying colours.

Over the last week have been thrown into thinking mode by one of my friends Facebook status updates. He and his wife and son have just been to America and of course there is the good old flight to and from the States. On the way out from Heathrow they got bumped up to first class. What is that? Is that a sign of blessing from God? Was God revealing His pleasure on His servants? We often as Christians see outward signs as signs of blessing. Evidence of the hand of the Almighty upon our life and ministry. Responses to this status update were the usual ‘Praise God’ response, and maybe a hidden bit of jealousy (come on let’s be honest!). God is so good blessing His people in such an amazing way. Yet what about the faithful Christian that does not get bumped up to first class? Is that person not walking in the same blessing? Is there a generational curse or secret sin that needs to be sorted out? Are they not praying enough or maybe not walking in such measures of faith?  And then what about the Moslem or athiest that gets bumped up? Is that a sign of God’s blessing on their lives? Is Allah blessing his man and the no god blessing their man? It really has raised many questions for me this week about the blessing of God.

The whole situation really took another twist on the return journey when they were bumped off four flights before they finally got a flight home. If getting bumped up was a sign of God’s blessing then what was this? Was God a bit tired now of doing nice things for them? Had they not fulfilled their destiny in America so they got punished for it? Had they got lessons to learn about patience? Some really wild thoughts I had on this were, maybe when they were bumped up God wanted them to give up those first class seats to someone else showing how selfless they were and because they didn’t do that God was teaching them a lesson. Prefer others surely. All of this to me reveals how shallow our interpretation, theology and outward evidence of blessing are. It is great receiving nice things and getting things going for us, but surely we cannot see this as the hand of the blessing of God. Blessing has to be more than just stuff. Jesus said something on this issue when Thomas wanted physical evidence of Jesus being raised from the dead. The stories were not enough for him. He finally got to see the living Christ and touch Him. Jesus agreed he was a blessed man because of this, blessed because he had seen something great. But then Jesus proceeds to say ‘but more blessed are those who believe and have not seen’.

Walk by faith and not by sight.

The implication here is that there is greater blessing for those that hang in there by faith without any physical evidence whatsoever. Why? Is it because God blesses them more? No I do not think so, it is because of the faith aspect, a faith that does not need evidence to exist and be strong. All in all this is a more content place to be when you do not have to worry about where the next bit of evidence will crop up. I believe in the angelic, I believe people can experience the angelic, yet I have never seen or experienced an angel. Does that mean I don’t think I am surrounded by them or that I have never met one in disguise or invisible? There are times when I certainly think the angelic have been involved in my life. I believe. Does this mean I am less blessed than those that see angels all the time and experience them regularly? I do not think so. There was a time when this really bothered me but not any more. I would love to see angels and experience them, but I believe. I have faith. I do not need the physical to reveal their presence to me. I am blessed. Blessed if I do and blessed if I don’t. Blessed if I can surround myself with people like David with the mighty men and the Cave of Adullum. Blessed if no one will listen and gather like with Noah and Jeremiah. The hall of faith in Hebrews makes it quite clear that it is nothing whatsoever to do with outward stuff by including characters that seemingly failed in it’s hall of honour. Noah’s message was rejected by everyone except his family, and they in a way had to be there because they were related. If he was a pastor today we would not invite him to speak at conferences. Where is the evidence of the hand of God? Surely he needs to get the message that he is not gifted to do this. Hebrews includes those beheaded and killed. Blessed? Less blessed than the one’s who lived and built churches of thousands? We need a new thinking and theology of blessing. We are blessed, full stop. Blessed. The blessing has already been released through Christ and it is not measured by what is going on. The sun shines on the righteous and the unrighteous. It rains both on the righteous and the unrighteous. Some things are just life, stuff, happenings. Is God in and through the events of our lives? Unquestionably, but one event is not a sign of blessing or curse, He uses all things of life to shape us from the moment we are born to the moment we die. It is just that we put too much weight on one seperate incident as evidence of His working. It is not about the evidence but about the eternal and faith to believe in what we do not see.

Live Blessed Whatever is going on.

Living blessed is not about pretense either. We do not need to keep smiling 24/7 through the stuff of life, but just be aware that even in the valley of shadow Someone lurks. For there to be a shadow there must be the existence of light. Blessed.

I know when I come to you, I shall come in the fullness (that which has been completed) of the blessing of the gospel of Christ (Romans 15:29)

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us with every spiritual blessing (chosen, adopted, forgiven) in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus. (Ephesians 1:3)

Living Room, Living Conversation

This weeks blog takes it’s inspiration from a living room conversation that I had with a great friend Tony John. Tony and Pat are a couple that I love so much, walking paths, pioneering paths, living paths. They knew what it was to walk a more ‘liquid’ expression of church before anyone was even talking about it. For that walk I honour them. After a couple of years without seeing them, Monday saw a time of re-connection as we shared coffee and stories of love’s great adventure. Dots were re-joined. A clearer picture began to emerge. This blog is titled after one of those throw away phrases you just happen to come out with in conversations like this. The ‘Word of the Lord’ is so natural and normal. Rhema in the middle of the ordinary and unplanned.

“We are like orphaned fathers (and mothers)”

For though you might have ten thousand instructors in Christ, yet you do not have many fathers… (1 Corinthians 4:15)

One of the subjects we discussed was that of being fathers to those in the Way. Realising that we ourselves were a fatherless generation, but in thinking about this more and more maybe not fatherless but orphaned. As I grew in the church I knew what it was to have fathers/mothers. I think of my first ‘pastor’ Alan Kidd, many youth leaders, the so called ‘Senior Pastor’ at Lutterworth, David Maggs. I have been privileged to have had great spiritual parents on my journey. I cannot say any of these people abused their authority, all they did was promote and encourage me in my walk with Christ. I am so thankful to God for the people he has given me in my journey. I know many cannot say this of their own journeys. Even when I first moved into Wales a guy called Paul Dando was such an encouragement. But then came the prophetic wave, the new, the fresh expressions. Then came the time to walk more and more the liquid path outside the walls of organised church life. This is where all of a sudden the Fathers of the past could not see where you were going. This is where the Fathers started to try to control and cry rebellion. This is where they began to turn their backs on us and walk away. We were given up as lost, back sliding, missing the mark, disobedient. In the new landscape we were orphaned. In the wilderness and the cave and the rolling hills of the spontaneous there were no fathers. No one had been this way before. The only measuring stick was where everyone had been before, the old form. It was so easy to call us loose canons but we never set out to do it alone, it was just when we got there nobody else was there to take us under their wing. We had to discover the parameters for ourselves and make mistakes, which of course proved the watching eyes right that we deserved to be rejected. Here we learned a dependence on Father. He was there walking in the cool of the garden. Orphaned fathers began finding other orphaned fathers. Here was a new beginning to see that another generation would not be fatherless.

Fathers not instructors

There are a billion and one people who would tell us what to do. Instruct us on what the verses mean for us and how to apply them to our lives. Downloads, books, conferences, web-sites, blogs, all full of how to live, how to walk, how to worship, how to pray, how to party, how to live prophetically. God is not looking for people to instruct this generation and say ‘this is how I learned to do it, now you do it like this’. He is calling parents to be there, to bring forth life. Parents do not have to understand their children to parent them. The problem comes when a parent tries to get their child to live their own dreams. This is where it ceases to become parenting and it becomes instructing. Being there is normally the greatest gift for a parent to a child, just being there. Being there to slay the fattened calf when they mess up and come home broken. Being there to put on the robe when they think they deserve rejection. Making sure that even if they choose to waste an inheritance that they are still part of the family when they come home with their tail between their legs. For my own boys I have no dreams for their lives other than them just living. I’m not here to judge their every move, if they ask my advise I will give it to them, but I do not have to preach to them every day for them to know God in their every day lives. I trust God with them. I enjoy them. This is how it needs to be with this generation of radical misfits and mystics. With this generation of broken wanderers. We will all find someone that we can just be there for. Have an open door for. Have an open life for. For some it may be just for a season. For others it may be for life. For some we may just see them once, for others we may see them every day. The hearts of the fathers will turn to the sons and the hearts of the sons to the fathers. Must also be noted here this is not something of age either, the younger will sometimes father the older as well as the older the younger. The less experienced may father the experienced. Loving and yet not dependant relationships. Elastic connections that will stretch to the moon and back. We may have been orphaned but this generation will be able to say there are fathers and mothers in the land that are for them and not against them. Orphaned parents of the land your sons and daughters are here already. Be ready with open arms.

The Lord’s Table

Growing up in the Assemblies of God tradition one of the first things I was introduced to as a serious Christian was the traditional Sunday morning ‘Breaking of Bread’ service. This was the meeting that all committed Christians had to make a special attempt to get to because of the command to remember ‘the Lord’s death until He comes on a Sunday morning, the first day of the week.’ It was always a bit more sombre than the evening Gospel service, that was there for outsiders. The focus was always upon a very old table at the front of the church that was called ‘the Lord’s table.’ On this table would be either a piece of bread or a cracker and some small individual tumblers with a little sip of Ribena or non-alcoholic communion wine. The worship every week would always lead us to this place where we would give account of our lives, repent of our sins and never take these emblems of His flesh and blood in an unworthy manner or we may eat and drink judgement on ourselves. It was always pretty scary, very serious and a time to recommit ourselves to following Him. As a young man there were times I felt I could not take the emblems because I had had a bad week and sinned. They called this ‘Communion.’ I took part in this weekly ritual from the age of 15 when I became a Christian until I left Tonyrefail and the ‘Pastoral’ life 6 years ago. Knowing all the time that the supper it refers to when Jesus shared that last meal with His disciples was nothing like this, and the one that Paul refers to would have been in a totally different context. A ‘Lovefeast’ as it became to be known. Yet both would have taken place in the context of a meal time and not a meeting time, and both would not have just been an isolated ‘nip and sip’ as Gerald Coates once called them, but a time for family and celebration and eating and drinking and being merry. This was the table I knew but the tables have turned.

Table Table

The table has taken on a whole new meaning for me now. Where as once it was the focus of just me and the Lord and a sombre place, I see tables everywhere as places of real communion. Places where fellowship and relationship can truly be formed. Dinner tables, breakfast tables, coffee shop tables, picnic tables, garden tables, coffee tables, pub tables, wherever there is a table is an incredible opportunity of realising that whenever two or three are gathered together there He is. This is where 2 x table = 3. That does not mean every conversation has to be littered with Bible discussions, but realising that every conversation we have will be permeated by the Divine because He dwells within us. There have times when we share bread and wine during a family meal time. At first I felt we had to have Bible study and Scripture readings to make it Holy, but I have come to realise that as family whenever we meet and eat and whatever the topic of conversation God is there amongst us. And sometimes His name even crops up. This has happened over the years sharing breakfast in people’s homes, having a coffee in an airport or in Starbucks. This has happened sharing buffets with friends and extended family. I have sat in a kitchen just sharing stories from life as we eat and drink together. All of these tables become the Lord’s table. All of these gatherings become Holy. There is no false sombre air about them, there is laughter, there is tears, there is story, there is life, there is distress and there is hope. Yet these tables become gathering places, not the focus themselves, but the places of lives shared. There is no room for hierarchy at a table as everyone has a level playing fields. The focus is not on one person but on each other. This is what King Arthur was allegedly trying to communicate through the round table, here we are all equals, together, joined, in fellowship. The tables are turning.

Place of Presence

In the tabernacle and the temple the table was the place for the bread of the Presence. Every table we sit at can become a place for the bread of His Presence. Mephibosheth was invited to always eat at the kings table, and so are we. Although imperfect we can incline with Him. Jesus inclined at the table with not just the twelve but with the Pharisees and tax collectors. The table became a leveller and place of encounter. The ‘Lord’s Table’ of old became a place of exclusion because unbelievers were told to let the bread and cup pass by. How embarrassing is that? What were we thinking? The table of the Lord becomes a place of inclusion. Let’s eat, drink, talk, fellowship, laugh and dwell together a while. Let’s share stories and see these stories touch hearts and lives. He has prepared a table before me in the presence of my enemies. He anoints my head with oil and my cup overflows. He just says, time out, take a seat with Me. Feast upon the food I will give you and let me deal with the stuff. Take the weight off of your feet and let me take the weight. Oil will flow as we sit at the table together. Joy will return as the wine is poured out. Broken lives will be restored, relationships renewed, faith revived as we sit around tables. It is the turn of the tables. The tables have surely been turned.

Dream On.

On Tuesday a friend, Karen McCrill Howard, shared a dream with me. That dream meant more to me than I am sure Karen would realise. I found such encouragement in it that I wanted to share it and a few thoughts surrounding it here. Before I go any further here is the dream as Karen shared it with me;

Usually when I fly in a dream, I am doing the flying. This is different.
I was watching from miles high in the air…the clouds were barely visible below & I watched as a group of regular folks (believers!) were each flying on the backs of huge, wider than horse’s backs, Canada Geese. The group was the last, the 4th group, & that was the most difficult flight. Previous goose flyers simply had to fly, this group must bring it in!! All they had to hold on to were the reins ,which they wouldn’t have even considered using to control the goose. This flock had to make a steep bank to the left, and all the while maintain their position on the Goose’s back, or maybe the goose balancing their person on their backs, which they could all do!… it was like a sudden re-entry.
All this seemed very frightening because I was going to be doing it too.(—the dream goes on about my fear of wild goose flying, which I’m sure doesn’t pertain to you flyers—)
end dream
while awakening, & thinking about this dream I both heard & saw 2 big block letters with the words “H G knows everything” wondered what that meant & right away, Holy Ghost. Not a term I use.
Listened to Frankie Lanes Wild Goose

My heart knows what the Wild Goose knows
I must go where the Wild goose goes
Wild Goose, brother goose which is best
A wanderin’ fool, or a heart at rest?

An Geadh-Glas

It is believed that the Celtic Christians preferred to refer to the Holy Spirit using the metaphor ‘The Wild Goose.’ For them the Holy Spirit was not a quiet, demure bird but a loud and uncontrollable one, which always seems to arrive unexpectedly and does not submit to human authority. Someone once called it the untamable wildness of hope. The word goose comes from the European word ghans, which is said to refer to the sound of honking that the geese make. The word wild is also of European origin, ghwelt, which means untamed or natural. The goose then is a bird of hidden treasure- of spirit in unseen motion, like water flowing underground, until it bursts forth in a spring. Wild is not a word of chaos but one of following it’s own will, making it’s own meaning, sailing on it’s own winds. The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit. It is time for the Wild Goose Chase. We can feel as if we are going around in circles going nowhere, but really we are circling around the elusive and mysterious. Being caught up in the uncatchable, untamable One. This in turn makes us uncatchable and untamable. Join the flight of the wild goose.

Memories of Earlier Days

The dream is also very poignant on a personal level because one of the first messages I heard that made a lasting impact upon me was from my very early days as a Christian when I was in Bible College, when I attended the Assemblies of God Annual Conference (The term Holy Ghost was used here often). It was here I heard a man called Warwick Shenton, a man very ahead of his time. He spoke about the wild geese and how we needed to learn so much from them. He shared about the way they fly in the V formation, that there was never a dominant leader but a sharing together in each team. The one at the front paving the way through the wind currents while the others behind would honk in encouragement. After a time the one at the front would drop back while someone else took the lead. Everyone would have their turn at the front and everyone would then take their turn to follow and support. True sharing of the load, responsibility, care. Then if any goose was over tired or injured and it had to drop to the ground another would fly down to support it and keep it company until it was ready to fly again. Then they would just join in with another group and be welcomed and carry on the same roles until they reached their destination. To think someone was sharing this about 25 years ago is amazing. To be reminded of it now through this dream is a honk of encouragement in itself. A bit more honking we could do with in this wild flight. Our honking brings a connectivity in the wildness and unpredictability. No one dominant leader but a sharing of journey together. Sharing and caring and encouraging and free. Not tied together but joined in journey. There is a sense in my spirit that we so called disconnected one’s, the outsiders, the untamed, we are the one’s nurturing a new connectedness. Not through a meeting place, although that may happen, but through mutual encouragement and journey. There is a deeper connection happening than I have experienced before. A connection through the Wild Goose. Outsiders and in the margins, but right inside where we need to be right now, central. There is so much encouragement to be gained. It really is time to honk if you love the Lord.