Category: Personal

After a long frustrating day with lots of driving and good dollop of delays – I arrived home 2 hours after I had planned to. It had been one of those days when you don’t just get one delay, you get a wonderful variety of them. Some delays have a point and a meaning, today’s mostly didn’t. The most pointless was a 30 min delay on the M6 because everyone wanted to slow down to look at a car transporter which had turned over – on the other carriageway. I suppose I should be counting my blessings that I wasn’t on the other carriageway, they had a much longer delay ahead of them.

On days like this I like to go out for a walk to clear my head. It doesn’t need to be a long walk just long enough to replace the diesel fumes with something a bit more natural.

I am in wonderfully privileged position of being able to walk a short way and then turn off into some woods and meadows. It’s been raining a lot and the meadow smell fragrant. There was a nice sunset building. I could already feel the frustration starting to lift as I walked along. And then as I looked out of the corner of my eye over towards the little pond, stood quite still looking straight at me was a deer. It stood and it stared, quite still. It wasn’t stressed or tense, it was just looking. it was looking at me and I could almost hear it saying ‘Chill Graham. Let go of the frustration. It’s a beautiful evening’. We both stood there for several minutes until eventually the deer walked off towards the trees and nibbled at the fresh new shoots that were provided there.

What a pleasant surprise. Definitely one of those “should have bought the camera” moments.

I was so excited when I got back that I started to write this blog. Then Sue got back from her evening out and we both went off to see if the deer was still there, but it was off munching fresh new shoots on some other trees.

As the deer pants for streams of water, so I long for you, O God.

I thirst for God, the living God. When can I come and stand before him?

Psalm 42

Some passages in the Bible require some background for them to have their true impact.

John chapter 4 documents a remarkable meeting. It’s known in Christian circles as ‘The Woman at the Well’.

In this encounter Jesus meets a woman at a well. She is the only one there and there is a reason for that, she is an outcast from her own society. She was collecting water at noon, something that isn’t a good idea in the searing heat of the day. Anyone walking past would have known she was an outcast, it didn’t require special powers on Jesus’ behalf to know it. It was so obvious that John doesn’t even bother giving any more details. From a Jewish perspective though it was worse than that, this woman was a Samaritan and the Jews hated the Samaritans. The Samaritan believed that the way they worshipped was the right way – the Jews clearly believed the opposite. For me as someone within a western culture, it also has to be noted, that this was a ‘woman’. Men didn’t talk to women outside their immediate family, that was a scandalous thing to do.

So does Jesus treat an outcast Samaritan woman?

Well, he asks her for a drink of water, the woman is astonished and so a conversation ensues. But this is no ordinary conversation over a glass of water this meeting is about to reveal something profound. A conversation in which Jesus opens up the woman’s life and reveals the route to salvation and redemption, but also a conversation in which Jesus proclaims the true place of worship.

“Oh, so you’re a prophet! Well, tell me this: Our ancestors worshipped God at this mountain, but you Jews insist that Jerusalem is the only place for worship, right?”

“Believe me, woman, the time is coming when you Samaritans will worship the Father neither here at this mountain nor there in Jerusalem. You worship guessing in the dark; we Jews worship in the clear light of day. God’s way of salvation is made available through the Jews. But the time is coming—it has, in fact, come—when what you’re called will not matter and where you go to worship will not matter.

“It’s who you are and the way you live that count before God. Your worship must engage your spirit in the pursuit of truth. That’s the kind of people the Father is out looking for: those who are simply and honestly themselves before him in their worship. God is sheer being itself—Spirit. Those who worship him must do it out of their very being, their spirits, their true selves, in adoration.”

John 4:19–24

Not only was the circumstances of the conversation shocking, but so was the conversation itself. Jesus proclaims that it doesn’t matter where you worship! It doesn’t matter if you worshipped on the mountain. It doesn’t matter if you worship in Jerusalem. You can worship anywhere.

I have spent much of my Christian life trying to live in the reality of that statement. Another Bible translation puts it like this: “But the time is coming and is already here when true worshippers will worship the Father in spirit and in truth.” It’s not about the words, or the music, or the place, or the time, it is about spirit and truth. I’d like to be able to say that I live every moment of my life at the same point on the worship experience quotient but I’d be lying. There are places, times, music and words that have helped me to go deeper in my experience of worship but that’s because those things have touched my spirit. The things that have touched my spirit are regularly not things that people would directly associate with a Christian experience of worship.

I have worshipped while reading psalms at the top of a very windy mountain. I have worshipped while on my morning walk listening to Bob Dylan. I have worshipped eating a meal with friends. I have worshipped driving to work while listening to Radio 4. I have worshipped in a plane while watching a movie. I have worshipped while sat next to a log fire relaxing with my family. I have worshipped in ancient churches where I was the only person present. I have worshipped in modern industrial units with smoke, loud music and lights. I have worshipped on my own. I have worshipped with thousands. I have worshipped in a tent while the rain patters down. I have worshipped on a beach ass the sea roars in. I have worshipped in a train watching the sunset out of the window.

The woman said, “I don’t know about that. I do know that the Messiah is coming. When he arrives, we’ll get the whole story.”

“I am he,” said Jesus. “You don’t have to wait any longer or look any further.”

Just then his disciples came back. They were shocked. They couldn’t believe he was talking with that kind of a woman. No one said what they were all thinking, but their faces showed it.

The woman took the hint and left. In her confusion she left her water pot. Back in the village she told the people, “Come see a man who knew all about the things I did, who knows me inside and out. Do you think this could be the Messiah?” And they went out to see for themselves.

John 4:25–30

(I’m focusing on the ‘anywhere’ today, I’m planning an ‘anyhow’)

Grey – what picture does that word paint in your mind. Is the picture characterised by dull, drab or even dreary.

I thought I’d have a look on the Dulux Paints web site to see how they describe grey. I looked through their vast range of colours but couldn’t find anything called ‘grey’. The grey colours are called wonderful things like ‘Ebony Mists’, ‘Ice Storm’, ‘Clouded Slate’ and ‘Quartz Flint’.

Grey isn’t just a colour though it’s used to describe and symbolise all sorts of things. If you are grey haired then you are old. If you look grey you look ill.

So why is grey a blessing?

There are two types of grey that I regard as a blessing. The first is the grey you find in black & white photographs. The thing with black & white photographs is that they aren’t black & white, they are shades of grey. There is something about a picture that is made up of shades of grey that brings a depth and vitality that you just don’t get with pictures in full colour.

The other grey I find a blessing is the grey that exists in the answers to so many questions that we ask. These questions don’t have an answer that is yes or no, right or wrong, black or white. The answers to these questions are grey, they are more complicated than black or white. We have a choice with these questions. We can either regard the grey as something of a problem, or we can regard the grey a something to treasure, something to contemplate and something to chew over. Chewing over the question doesn’t change the question, but it does change us, it often leads into other questions. Treasuring these questions can help us to understand how other people see the same question.

Martyn Joseph wrote a song about this:

Treasure the Questions

Locked in my heart there’s a child
Knocking the door to get out
Asking the questions that hurt and
Sometimes there’s a question of doubt
I can’t pretend that it’s easy
I can’t pretend that I win
When your search in this life is over
That’s when the struggle begins

And if I don’t find out the search is not in vain
And if I don’t find out I
Treasure the questions as they rage in my mind
I treasure the questions some day I will find
I ran out of answers such a long time ago
And I treasure the questions wherever I go

Searching Sahara’s of sorrow
Trying to understand why
But the journey has brought me so much closer
I don’t have to stand here and lie
Over and over I cried in the darkness
Over and over to see
The crime is to sit and not wonder
Renewing my mind set me free

And if I don’t find out the search is not in vain
And if I don’t find out I
Treasure the questions as they rage in my mind
I treasure the questions some day I will find
I ran out of answers such a long time ago
And I treasure the questions wherever I go

Today I sat at a computer, answered a few questions about driving and safety. This was all so that my employer could assess my driving risk. Common drivers (of which I used to be be one, but aren’t really anymore) are some of the most endangered people on the planet according to the web site.

At the end of it I fully expected to be told that my driving was OK.

My opinion of my own driving risk was not to be though.

“Overall Rating: At High Risk”

Oh great, that’s me told.

It does me good to be put in your place every now and then. When it comes to driving it’s good to be reminded of the risk that you place yourself and others in every time you sit behind that wheel.

Being put in your place works both ways though:

But you are the ones chosen by God, chosen for the high calling of priestly work, chosen to be a holy people, God’s instruments to do his work and speak out for him, to tell others of the night-and-day difference he made for you–from nothing to something, from rejected to accepted.

1 Peter 2:9–10

For thousands of years ordinary people communicated almost exclusively by word-of-mouth. There wasn’t really any alternative because most people didn’t read or write. The richest forms of communicating are the story, the fable and the parable. And the best stories are those that are communicated by word-of-mouth. They have been passed from generation to generation. We seem to be hard wired to take in the meaning of a story in a way that simple instructions just don’t convey.

One of the most visited pages of this site is the story about the mayonnaise jar. I’m sure that most of you, if you have already read the story, will be able to tell me the end of the story after just a few short lines at the beginning to remind you of the story. You’ve perhaps ever remembered the story in a busy time, a time when you were focusing on the urgent rather than the important.

I’ve recently been reading the Coyote Workplace Fables by Adrian Savage. They are really well written stories that have a great ability to communicate a message. The one on Coyote Teaches Time Management has a real resonance with the Mayonnaise Jar Story.

Jesus was, of course, the Master story teller. The Parables are so rich in meaning and still connect today even though most of them were related to an agricultural existence that most of us no longer know. Jesus obviously knew that these words would last. Take the parable of the Wise and Foolish Builders:

“Anyone who listens to my teaching and obeys me is wise, like a person who builds a house on solid rock. Though the rain comes in torrents and the floodwater rise and the winds beat against that house, it won’t collapse, because it is built on rock. But anyone who hears my teaching and ignores it is foolish, like a person who builds a house on sand. When the rains and floods come and the winds beat against that house, it will fall with a mighty crash.”

Matthew 20

How’s that for simplicity, but what a profound message.

And then there are the truly profound ‘lost’ parables; the lost coin, the lost sheep and the lost son.

The Story of the Lost Sheep

By this time a lot of men and women of doubtful reputation were hanging around Jesus, listening intently. The Pharisees and religion scholars were not pleased, not at all pleased. They growled, “He takes in sinners and eats meals with them, treating them like old friends.” Their grumbling triggered this story.

“Suppose one of you had a hundred sheep and lost one. Wouldn’t you leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the lost one until you found it? When found, you can be sure you would put it across your shoulders, rejoicing, and when you got home call in your friends and neighbours, saying, ‘Celebrate with me! I’ve found my lost sheep!’ Count on it–there’s more joy in heaven over one sinner’s rescued life than over ninety-nine good people in no need of rescue.”

The Story of the Lost Coin

“Or imagine a woman who has ten coins and loses one. Won’t she light a lamp and scour the house, looking in every nook and cranny until she finds it? And when she finds it you can be sure she’ll call her friends and neighbours: “Celebrate with me! I found my lost coin!’ Count on it–that’s the kind of party God’s angels throw every time one lost soul turns to God.”

The Story of the Lost Son

Then he said, “There was once a man who had two sons. The younger said to his father, ‘Father, I want right now what’s coming to me.’

“So the father divided the property between them. It wasn’t long before the younger son packed his bags and left for a distant country. There, undisciplined and dissipated, he wasted everything he had. After he had gone through all his money, there was a bad famine all through that country and he began to hurt. He signed on with a citizen there who assigned him to his fields to slop the pigs. He was so hungry he would have eaten the corncobs in the pig slop, but no one would give him any.

“That brought him to his senses. He said, “All those farmhands working for my father sit down to three meals a day, and here I am starving to death. I’m going back to my father. I’ll say to him, ‘Father, I’ve sinned against God, I’ve sinned before you; I don’t deserve to be called your son. Take me on as a hired hand.’ He got right up and went home to his father.

“When he was still a long way off, his father saw him. His heart pounding, he ran out, embraced him, and kissed him. The son started his speech: ‘Father, I’ve sinned against God, I’ve sinned before you; I don’t deserve to be called your son ever again.’

“But the father wasn’t listening. He was calling to the servants, “Quick. Bring a clean set of clothes and dress him. Put the family ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Then get a grain-fed heifer and roast it. We’re going to feast! We’re going to have a wonderful time! My son is here–given up for dead and now alive! Given up for lost and now found!’ And they began to have a wonderful time.

“All this time his older son was out in the field. When the day’s work was done he came in. As he approached the house, he heard the music and dancing. Calling over one of the houseboys, he asked what was going on. He told him, ‘Your brother came home. Your father has ordered a feast–barbecued beef!-because he has him home safe and sound.’ The older brother stalked off in an angry sulk and refused to join in. His father came out and tried to talk to him, but he wouldn’t listen. The son said, ‘Look how many years I’ve stayed here serving you, never giving you one moment of grief, but have you ever thrown a party for me and my friends? Then this son of yours who has thrown away your money on whores shows up and you go all out with a feast!’

“His father said, ‘Son, you don’t understand. You’re with me all the time, and everything that is mine is yours– but this is a wonderful time, and we had to celebrate. This brother of yours was dead, and he’s alive! He was lost, and he’s found!’”

Luke 15

These stories have a superb timeless quality to them, but if you do understand the historic context they are even richer. In the parable of the lost coin the coin probably wasn’t intended to be just an ordinary copper that she used to buy stuff at Asda. The listeners would have thought of the dowry coins that she would have been given, precious things. In the story of the lost son the son ends up feeding pigs; that sounds like a job I wouldn’t want to do but for a Jew that must have been lower than low. Again, in the parable of the lost son when the father saw the son “His heart pounding, he ran out, embraced him, and kissed him. ran out, embraced him, and kissed him.” He ran? That was a disgraceful thing for a man of honour to do only servants ran.

 

I like to think of these stories as road signs that guide our way as we progress along life. They inhabit our consciousness and remind us of truth at the correct time.

 

Some people have challenged me construct some stories around Jimmy and Grandad – what do you think? I’ve never really written stories, it might be fun to try.

There are regularly piles of shoes to be found at the Chastney household; large ones, small ones, boots, shoes, flip-flops, sandals, pink, black, clean, dirty, polished, trainers, wellington, jellies, red, green, brown, laced, velcro, unlaced, plastic, cloth, leather. Each of these shoes have brought with them someone who wants to come into our house.

Sometimes the shoes bring people in need, sometimes they bring people who want to have fun, sometimes they even bring members of the family.

We don’t have rules about the types of shoes which are allowed to come and we don’t have rules about the people they bring.

A pile of shoes is a sure sign that the shoes want to come for whatever reason. It’s a blessing to be privileged with so many of them visiting.

Never give up. Eagerly follow the Holy Spirit and serve the Lord. Let your hope make you glad. Be patient in time of trouble and never stop praying. Take care of God’s needy people and welcome strangers into your home.

Romans 12

 

I’m currently reading “The Jesus I Never Knew” by Philip Yancey. It’s inspired me to rethink about Jesus the man.

I have never connected with the pictures of Jesus that a fluffy white haired, white bearded and wearing white. Likewise the Jesus that is clean shaven with children sat on his knee looking all sweetness and smiles. All these pictures suggest to me is that Jesus isn’t real.

I believe Jesus was real and I have found it a real blessing to try and think about some of the things that are common to us men and hence were also part of Jesus.

As Jesus was a carpenter did He get nerdy about the latest a greatest tool or was He more of a heritage man who revelled in restoring something old? These tendencies are common to a huge number of men, just look around at the number of gadget magazines and vintage clubs. I’m sure these things are not unique to our age but reflect something deep about manhood. If there had been a Screwfix catalogue I’m suspect He would have subscribed.

While He was in the carpentry shop how did Jesus react when something went wrong? Firstly, I am sure that Jesus did not produce perfect furniture, making perfect furniture takes too long and the family needed feeding. Secondly, I’m sure things went wrong. Jesus was working with imperfect tools and imperfect materials so I’m sure that He hit a piece of wood too hard and split it from time to time. If that was the case, where did Jesus have a scar. I can’t imagine anyone working as a carpenter and not having some scar or other it’s inherent in the job.

How goal oriented was He? All men are oriented to the goal whatever the goal is. We constantly set ourselves new goals in order to reach them. I’m sure Jesus was the same, but I’m intrigued what the goals would have been. Did He seek out adventure?

I often wish the Gospels included hints as to the tone of Jesus voice when He was talking. Was the Sermon on the Mount said in a constant monotone or was there places when He was shouting, was there places when He was talking more gently. When was that, which bits was He most passionate about?

So why is this a blessing to me – because it makes Jesus more real and in so doing brings him closer.

I seem to spend a good deal of my life in a state that can best be described as hanging on. Sometimes I’m hanging-on for the ride, other times I’m hanging-on with gritted determination desperate to not let go.

Climbing Helvellyn bought this home to me again, in a couple of ways.

I am no longer a mountain goat, I’m not sure I ever was, climbing is now something that requires a good deal of determination. Jonathan, on the other hand is a slim young man who wasn’t out of breath the whole way up.

For much of the initial climb I was talking to myself; “Just hang in on it will get better soon”; “One more step and then rest”; “Four steps up is another metre climbed, and there’s only 800 of them”. I was hanging-on determined to reach the summit even though my body was telling me the opposite.

There are a number of routes up Helvellyn. Striding Edge is the famous one because it is a long sharp ridge with steep falls on either side. In places they are sheer cliffs. for most of it the path is only just wide enough to walk on, and it’s all rocks. Part way along the ridge, with the mountain goat in front, I stepped from one set of rocks to another. Unfortunately my back foot became wedged in between the two rocks where I had placed it on my previous step. With my body weight moving forward and my foot staying put I lost balance and fell over. Because my step was slightly sideways I didn’t fall flat onto the path I fell off the path onto a steep hillside which didn’t stop until Red Tarn some 200 metres below. it was one of those slow motion moments. I was no longer thinking about the aches of walking up I was thinking “it doesn’t matter how much it hurts just hang-on to something”. As it happens I fell onto some rocky grass, clung on and stopped. Jonathan had stopped to talk to a man making his way down and they both came over to make sure I was OK.

I now have a scratch on my face, a graze on my hand and a bruise on my knee but apart from that I am completely fine. A few metres either way and I would have fallen onto some very sharp rocks. If I’d been moving any faster I could so easily have ended up a lot closer to Red Tarn, and a lot more damaged. If I had fallen the other side I would have fallen straight down a cliff.

The top, as with all mountain peaks, was a time of elation. Restrained English elation, but elation all the same. Sometimes hanging-on is all you can do, sometimes hanging-on is all you need to do.

That is why we have a great High Priest who has gone to heaven, Jesus the Son of God. Let us cling to him and never stop trusting him. This High Priest of ours understands our weaknesses, for he faced all of the same temptations we do, yet he did not sin.

Hebrews 4:14–15

All of my blessings posts seem to be prompted by something I am reading or by an event that happens in my life. This one is now exception.

The title of this post – “views that will last forever” – is something that Jonathan said after a special day for the two of us and it really struck me.

This last week has been a holiday week for the Chastney family, one that we spent catching up on family primarily. First to Graham’s Mum and Dad’s and then on to Sue’s Mum and Dad’s. Sue’s Mum and Dad live in the beautiful Lake District town of Keswick and while there I try to take in some of the countryside. This time I felt a real need to break out of the mold a bit and do something a bit more dramatic. I didn’t really want to do this alone so pulled Jonathan into the plan. And the plan was this; whatever the weather we would climb a mountain, preferably one of the big ones. My personal dream was that we would climb Helvellyn and do it up Striding Edge because I had never been up that side.

The day of the climb came and in true Lake District weather fashion it was raining, but we had made our plan and we weren’t going to change now.

There are two thing I have learnt about Lake District weather. The first is that you should always stick with your plan because it can change in minutes. The second is that Sue’s Mum is rarely wrong and she was expecting it to brighten up.

So of we go around to Glenridding and up Striding Edge. I’ll probably talk more about that another time because there are all sorts of things that come from it. But so as not to give too much away; we made it up Striding Edge and down Swirral Edge. As a taster for a future post; I have a bruise on my knee and a scratch on my face as war wounds.

Just as we are heading back into Glenridding I say to Jonathan, “Well it’s a good job we didn’t let the weather stop us isn’t it”.

“Yes it is because I would have missed those views that will last forever”.

Anyone who has ever achieved something will know what he means.

When was the last time you created some “views that will last forever”?