Some years ago when I was carrying out some research about rural churches I heard a story regarding an Anglican church building in Devon that had been destroyed in a fire. Apparently it was situated on a hill top some distance from the village. To replace the medieval building a brand new modern church was erected within the community. It was built on sloping land and the architects had cleverly used this to develop a split-level building. They had also done something very creatively regarding natural lighting. Apparently light enters through windows somewhere in the roof and in such a way that the whole building is bathed in light.
While this splendid building had much to commend it the one negative comment was that the abundance of light meant that there were no dark corners where someone might sit and weep. I wonder whether this could be a metaphor for the church experience of others and it is that subject I wish to explore a little here.
In all our lives there are times when either our own circumstances, or that of others dear to us, bring deep sorrow. But Britishness, which afflicts many, means keeping a stiff upper lip and keeping your sorrow private. People from other cultures may not react the same way. We will all have seen scenes on the television of people in the middle east and elsewhere where public displays of distress at times of sorrow are the norm.
My question is where do we go at those times of deepest sorrow and how does this relate to Christian fellowship?
It seems to me that there are two different church experiences that are unhelpful. The first of these is where there is such an emphasis on triumph and joyfulness that to express sadness would almost seem sinful (too much light and no dark corners). The other is orderly church where any kind of emotionalism is not wanted. But surely church, in the sense of a fellowship meeting, is just the place we should be able to go and weep. Perhaps that already happens at your church but if not you might ask yourself what would happen if someone broke down and wept uncontrollably halfway through next Sunday's service? Would it be ignored? Would it be received sympathetically? Would it be seen as unwelcome? Would it need to be 'managed' to minimise the disturbance?
One of the most popular contemporary Christian songs is "As the deer pants for the water so my soul longs after God". It is a song that evokes worship and thankfulness, but which when we sing it we usually miss the pathos behind these words which come from Psalm 42. While the psalm opens with these words they are expressed in the context of sorrow, if not great agony. The psalmist goes on to say, "My tears have been my food day and night..." Three times in the space of this short psalm the writer speaks of feeling downcast. In verse seven it seems that the writer is describing waves of deep grief breaking over his soul. It reminds me of Hannah who was in deep anguish at the temple such that Eli thought she was drunk (See 1 Samuel 1).
I don't suppose any of would want to go to church to have a miserable experience, but I hope that we would all want our church gathering to be a context where people can feel free to weep and be open about the depth of their experiences when going through life's storms. How else can we truly "Mourn with those who mourn"?
A few years ago a Christian magazine ran an article entitled "The Sunday Lie In". It pointed out that when we arrive at church and someone asks how we are, we feel obliged to say that everything is fine even when it is far from fine. Why can't we not be honest in church about our feelings whether they are of joy or deep sadness?
Most regular readers of this blog will be aware that my very good friend and colleague of around forty years was diagnosed earlier in 2014 with an aggressive brain tumour. Since that time she has remained amazingly positive, buoyed up by her faith. Her attitude has been so positive that some medical professionals have wondered whether she had fully grasped the terminal nature of her condition. But this has been a hard week for her. Even as I write this I know that normally she would not want me to share that with you. But the God who, as Jesus, wept alongside Martha and Mary at the graveside of their brother takes no pleasure in pretentiousness.
Perhaps the best test of the quality of Christian fellowship is when someone finds the courage to weep in our presence. Please pray for my friend Monica and for others who face similar situations (you know who you are). Pray too for their Christian friends and church fellowships that we might be all that we should be a places where - if necessary - they can cry. God is able.
Matters for Praise & Prayer
The trustees of Sunrise Ministries (incorporating Rural Mission Solutions) meet on Monday in London. Please pray for wisdom.
On Tuesday I fly to Northern Ireland where I will be until Friday as a guest of the Non-Subscribing Presbyterian Church at their Annual Synod. The NSPCI are a small denomination and in many ways have similar aspects to the Congregational Federation in which I am a minister. One of my roles within CF is as Chair of Inter-Church Board that has been participating in discussions with the NSPCI. We have had some precious times of Christian fellowship during these conversations.
The following week contains a Conference on Making and Growing Disciples in the Countryside, which I will have to miss because of other commitments. Please pray for the conference organisers as they make final preparations for what I hope will be a very special event.
Please pray for my wife, Doreen who had a bad fall and cracked or broke some ribs not long ago. The fall was probably the consequence of the condition of peripheral neuropathy that affects her balance and walking. Please pray that she will be safe while I am away over the days of this coming week.
Give thanks for God's gracious provision that has enables us to do so much over the past month. The 2014 Annual Report and Accounts for Sunrise Ministries comes to the trustees on Monday and will be available soon afterwards. A small deficit is shown for 2014 but we are grateful for faithful friends and some supportive churches.
Yours gladly in His service,
Barry
While this splendid building had much to commend it the one negative comment was that the abundance of light meant that there were no dark corners where someone might sit and weep. I wonder whether this could be a metaphor for the church experience of others and it is that subject I wish to explore a little here.
In all our lives there are times when either our own circumstances, or that of others dear to us, bring deep sorrow. But Britishness, which afflicts many, means keeping a stiff upper lip and keeping your sorrow private. People from other cultures may not react the same way. We will all have seen scenes on the television of people in the middle east and elsewhere where public displays of distress at times of sorrow are the norm.
My question is where do we go at those times of deepest sorrow and how does this relate to Christian fellowship?
It seems to me that there are two different church experiences that are unhelpful. The first of these is where there is such an emphasis on triumph and joyfulness that to express sadness would almost seem sinful (too much light and no dark corners). The other is orderly church where any kind of emotionalism is not wanted. But surely church, in the sense of a fellowship meeting, is just the place we should be able to go and weep. Perhaps that already happens at your church but if not you might ask yourself what would happen if someone broke down and wept uncontrollably halfway through next Sunday's service? Would it be ignored? Would it be received sympathetically? Would it be seen as unwelcome? Would it need to be 'managed' to minimise the disturbance?
One of the most popular contemporary Christian songs is "As the deer pants for the water so my soul longs after God". It is a song that evokes worship and thankfulness, but which when we sing it we usually miss the pathos behind these words which come from Psalm 42. While the psalm opens with these words they are expressed in the context of sorrow, if not great agony. The psalmist goes on to say, "My tears have been my food day and night..." Three times in the space of this short psalm the writer speaks of feeling downcast. In verse seven it seems that the writer is describing waves of deep grief breaking over his soul. It reminds me of Hannah who was in deep anguish at the temple such that Eli thought she was drunk (See 1 Samuel 1).
I don't suppose any of would want to go to church to have a miserable experience, but I hope that we would all want our church gathering to be a context where people can feel free to weep and be open about the depth of their experiences when going through life's storms. How else can we truly "Mourn with those who mourn"?
A few years ago a Christian magazine ran an article entitled "The Sunday Lie In". It pointed out that when we arrive at church and someone asks how we are, we feel obliged to say that everything is fine even when it is far from fine. Why can't we not be honest in church about our feelings whether they are of joy or deep sadness?
Most regular readers of this blog will be aware that my very good friend and colleague of around forty years was diagnosed earlier in 2014 with an aggressive brain tumour. Since that time she has remained amazingly positive, buoyed up by her faith. Her attitude has been so positive that some medical professionals have wondered whether she had fully grasped the terminal nature of her condition. But this has been a hard week for her. Even as I write this I know that normally she would not want me to share that with you. But the God who, as Jesus, wept alongside Martha and Mary at the graveside of their brother takes no pleasure in pretentiousness.
Perhaps the best test of the quality of Christian fellowship is when someone finds the courage to weep in our presence. Please pray for my friend Monica and for others who face similar situations (you know who you are). Pray too for their Christian friends and church fellowships that we might be all that we should be a places where - if necessary - they can cry. God is able.
Matters for Praise & Prayer
The trustees of Sunrise Ministries (incorporating Rural Mission Solutions) meet on Monday in London. Please pray for wisdom.
On Tuesday I fly to Northern Ireland where I will be until Friday as a guest of the Non-Subscribing Presbyterian Church at their Annual Synod. The NSPCI are a small denomination and in many ways have similar aspects to the Congregational Federation in which I am a minister. One of my roles within CF is as Chair of Inter-Church Board that has been participating in discussions with the NSPCI. We have had some precious times of Christian fellowship during these conversations.
The following week contains a Conference on Making and Growing Disciples in the Countryside, which I will have to miss because of other commitments. Please pray for the conference organisers as they make final preparations for what I hope will be a very special event.
Please pray for my wife, Doreen who had a bad fall and cracked or broke some ribs not long ago. The fall was probably the consequence of the condition of peripheral neuropathy that affects her balance and walking. Please pray that she will be safe while I am away over the days of this coming week.
Give thanks for God's gracious provision that has enables us to do so much over the past month. The 2014 Annual Report and Accounts for Sunrise Ministries comes to the trustees on Monday and will be available soon afterwards. A small deficit is shown for 2014 but we are grateful for faithful friends and some supportive churches.
Yours gladly in His service,
Barry
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