We had lots of young children at church on Sunday, and some there for special events. We had the chance to welcome the grandson of one of our familes, who was visiting this country for the first time. Much delight for people in seeing him, and there were lots of people making a fuss of him and affirming his place as part of our family, even if normally living at a distance.
And we also had the dedication service for two sisters, part of a family who have been worshipping with us for about 18 months now. This was a particular delight in its own way because, though both girls here well, both parents are deaf. They have committed themselves to being part of our fellowship, and work hard at interacting with the congregation, though lip-reading, reading prints of sermons, and concentrating very hard.
But we needed to do something different this week, and so we had a sign interpreter, not just for the dedication itself, but for the whole service. It was a fascinating experience. I have worked with those who have been translating my words into another spoken language, which is always a challenge. But this was a whole new thing. Partly because our interpreter didn't need to wait for me to finish a phrase or sentence before translating, but worked concurrently with me (though she did comment that I spoke rather fast!!).
But what struck me most was the beauty of the language that was used. I have always been very aware of the beauty of words; language has the power to move me at a very deep level (any of you who heard me read Caedmon's hymn in the service a couple of weeks ago would have seen that). But it was wonderful to discover a new aspect of beauty in movement, grace and particularly watching all three (the translator and the parents) signing the hymns in unison.
Dedications are always wonderful occasions - but the added grace and involvement on Sunday morning means that this is one that will hold a special place in my mind.
And it leaves a question. How can we develop our inclusiveness, and take further our capacity to communicate across the various barriers that are among us? An ongoing project, but one I hope we continue to adventure in.

Visiting and fidning life

When I was about 15 I started to visit an ancient man from our church who as it turned out, was a major formative influence in my life. But you never know these things when they are happening. You only discover that they’ve happened much much later (sometimes too late). They were no pastoral visits at that time. I only went because he was very interesting and his stories kept me listening for hours. He was a friend of my grandparents and that’s how I learned many stories from my grandparents’ lives and how things used to be when they were children and teenagers. He died some years ago but I can hardly forget him. I think I found him such a good friend in spite of the age gap mainly for 3 reasons. Again – these were hardly formulated in my head then. They are only emerging years later as I remember our chats. So – 1) he wasn’t complaining about his ailments all the time; 2) he wasn’t criticising the ‘young generation’ or all that’s wrong with the world today for that matter; 3) and he had no excessive need to give unsolicited advice. Somehow this lead me to the opinion that age does not matter when people reach a certain level of mutual understanding.
Now I’m finding myself in a different century/millennium, a different country, almost a different lifetime and visiting older people is part of the pastoral role I’m involved in. Yet, at times I find that these images from the past come back to me through other people. For instance, a few days ago I went to see an old man from our church. And I could immediately tell, that this man was from the category of the above mentioned guy from years ago. He is old and there are plenty of things to make his life miserable. There are plenty of reasons to make such visit a complaining session with a good opportunity of service for me to listen and offer empathy. Yet – none of this actually happened. On the contrary – it was a great lesson for me on how to perceive what life is and how to interpret what is happening to us. Instead of counting all that is wrong with his health, he gave account of how much he can still physically manage. Instead of complaining about loneliness, he showed me letters and emails that keep him in touch with various friends from all across the globe. Instead of listing what others have failed to do for him, he recounted how he helps others as much as he is able to. And all this was not just some kind of ‘positive philosophy of life’. There was a practical demonstration. In his kitchen there is a brand new washing machine, a dryer and a dishwasher. These are the things he got himself at the age of well over 80, and learned how to use them so that he can manage without carers. To me there is hardly a more solid proof of the will to live and cope with life as it comes. I’m not sure if I can even compare with it. We went out to lunch together and it was a great celebration. As he said – he hardly needs more to be able to celebrate than a new morning and a new day, and another person to talk to and another meal to enjoy. The fact that he wakes up is a bonus on top of God’s other blessings. Every new day is an extra on top of a rich tapestry of life. And when I see this kind of attitude enacted live before my eyes I really feel put to shame. All the stress we create for ourselves when we so easily slip into living our days without perspective. I think it’s best not to be saving this attitude for the ‘old age’, because that’s simply uncertain. The safest thing to do is to adopt it for today.
Posted by Ruth on behalf of Andrea Kvackova

On being right and wrong

One of the aspects of being a church and being part of a church is that there are always those who think that what is going on is wrong, and should be done differently, done more, done less - or not done at all. Such judgements come from both within and outside the church, and can be expressed with more or less courtesy and more or less directly.
It was one of the experiences of attending the WCC Faith and Order Plenary Commission, in which we were discussing things that matter very deeply to all of us about how we are churches, and what the nature of truth and true relating to God is. And I come home and discover that, as always, we are going through one of those periods within the church as well. And it raises an interesting set of reflections about how we recognise and trust the divine presence.
One of the things that I sometimes experience when people are telling me how things should be is the assumption - usually unspoken, but occasionally explicitly expressed - that God is on one side or the other (usually on the other, that is, not mine!) It's the kind of attitude expressed in the joke about the people who were arguing about styles of worship, and the argument ends with the comment
"Well, it's fine - you continue worshipping God in your way, and I will worship him in His"
What has begun to disturb me about the whole process is how easy it is to get sucked in to the attitude; to react to the suggestion that God is on the side of the person challenging me with the conviction that actually, God is on my side.
There was a time when I expressed this conviction in conversation with a (wise) friend. She came back at me very quickly. "God loves you utterly and completely, Ruth - and God loves XXXX as well - in the same way!"
That was several years ago, and I try to hold on to that. I try to remember that, if I dare to stand up and preach, if I dare to believe and encourage others to believe that the love of God is utter and limitless, and is not dependent on being good enough, then that is true for everybody. Even the people who say I am wrong.
And the hurt side of me rears up, and argues that surely God must be on my side, for I am right - and so I am right back into the conviction and practice that the love of God depends on me (or somebody else) being acceptable. That has got to be a dangerous place to stand.
There is another spin-off as well. If God is on my side because I am right, then it takes no time to get to the conviction that I am right because God is on my side - or, in other words, - I have the capacity and right to know and define what God wants, does and, in the end, who God is.
An even more dangerous place.
So, I find myself driven back again and again to prayer, and in particular to the prayer; Lord, you Kingdom come - and Lord, keep me humble.