Word Wall: Christ-centred.

As I sat in the empty stillness of the church welcome area, I turned and looked left over the sofa cushions, my eye caught by a sudden glare of light. The sun had reached the back of the building as it travelled its native path towards the west. Rays were streaming through windows behind the closed door of the prayer room. 

The reason I know this is because the prayer room door has clouded glass panels that form the shape of a cross, granting access to the eager sunlight which stretched further into the seating area. For a short space of time, while the earth rotated on its axis, the sun aligned with that glass cross and blazed vivedly, directly through the place of prayer and out into the place of welcome beyond. 

The photo may not capture it very well but it was a moment -  a moment of wonder and delight at being given this sight of a blazing cross, an all too fleeting sight of sun and cross conjoined. A picture of light flowing from its source, streaming through a place of prayer to permeate a space of community and welcome. 

And there, just to the left of the door was the wall of words with ‘Christ-centred’ in the midst, the words that were already next on the list of potential blog posts. The sight of the light and the cross with the sense of encounter and wonder, readily became the connective substance between word, thought and meaning. 

To be a Christ-centred people is to be the place where God’s light floods through the cross and out into the world. The Light flowing from the Father, through the divine/human meeting place and suffusing the ordinary spaces of life where people gather to be together in his name. The prayers of God’s family align with his heart and become an artery for love and life to flow into the places beyond. 

When we are given a glimpse of cross shaped radiance, we are filled with reverence, awe and a deep sense of gratitude. None of the other words on the wall will have any true value or meaning to us or to the world if they do not flow directly from this enounter. Jesus is at the heart of every word. He is the reason for all of them, each one a blessing and a gift. He is the connection at the centre.

My attention was held captive for the time it took for the light to shift from left to right and soon it was time to go.

Light is not something we can take in our hands to capture and possess, neither are encounters such as this. We are simply to enjoy being present and blessed, knowing that we are greatly loved and drawn continuously back to the cross of Christ, our centre. 

‘Everything comes from him;

Everything happens through him;

Everything ends up in him.

Always glory! Always praise!

Yes. Yes. Yes.

Romans 11:36 (Msg)  

Word Wall: Welcome

It was easy to choose the first word from the word wall to begin the series. I think it is entirely appropriate to focus on the word,

Welcoming

In fact, one of the first things that you cannot fail to notice as you enter the building is the word welcome.

These seven letters emblazoned across the wall are my favourite feature in our whole church building. They greet you on a Sunday morning to the welcome area where you will most likely be greeted by a member of the welcome team.

We use the word welcome a lot!

It’s a word that signifies greeting, communicating gladness on a person’s arrival. A door is held open for you, you are greeted with a warm smile and heartfelt handshake. 

I love that a huge visible welcome is quite literally extended to one and all. No matter who walks through the doors, there is always an outsized welcome, filling the potential gaps of missed handshakes or overlooked introductions that can easily happen.  

This is surely the very core of the gospel. The good news is that we are welcomed! We are invited in! We are graciously and joyously received in love into God’s family through belief in Jesus.

There is no story in the Bible that I can think of this moment that shows more how God welcomes us, than the prodigal son. The Father doesn’t just stand in the porch, holding the door open, waiting with reserve. No, he opens the door wide and runs towards his beloved child. He welcomes him home with so much more than a handshake. I imagine him embracing his son with tears in his eyes. He puts his arm around his child’s shoulders and walks him back through the door and into the place where he belongs. 

‘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.’ Luke 15:24

If this is how we personally experience welcome then this is what we will want others to experience too - a welcome that ushers them home with feasting and celebration.

If you are part of your church welcome team, then be encouraged because I think that what you do is hugely symbolic, speaking volumes. To welcome people into a church on a Sunday morning is to welcome them into the presence of God to worship him, thank him, celebrate him in vibrant community with those who know what it is to live welcomed. What a wonderful job!

Please do note, I can appreciate all this while not actually being on the welcome team myself. My  social anxiety levels are far too high in a large busy foyer to be of much use in that area of service but I think all you official greeters and welcomers are marvellous.

This does not, however, mean that us introverts are either exempt or incapable of extending a welcoming hand to others. Jesus extends his welcome not just from the doors of our churches but from the doors of our lives, the places where his Spirit lives. In every act of love, there is an invitation, with every word of truth, the door is held open, every morsel of kindness, grace and forgiveness is a taste of the banquet that is offered.  

To be welcoming encompasses who we are and everything we aspire to be - to have the open, expansive heart of God who welcomes radically and counter-culturally. 

To embrace the meaning of the word welcome is to embrace everyone Jesus is ushering over the threshold of his Kingdom open house. 

Introduction To The Word Wall

Sometimes things just pop into my head, usually inspired by something I've noticed, something I've seen or heard during the course of the day or week. It takes me through a little mental gate, down a path, one stepping stone thought to the next until it takes the form of a shareable blog post. It's not necessarily a bad approach, in fact it has its advantages, but I would like to try and incorporate a more structured or planned element to writing, at least for a while and see how that pans out. While there are writable worthy moments in life that simply happen and can in no way be anticipated or predicted, it might not be a bad thing for me to knuckle down and attempt to be more organised, more disciplined, think about things in advance, not just write and post. 

In other words, I’m experimenting. I hope you’re happy to bear with me? 

So, things to write about then. Hmm. Jump in any time with suggestions, that would be marvellous. I did however, come up with one idea.

For When You Feel Fragile

I was at New Horizon in Coleraine last Saturday night, primarily to hear Rosaria Butterfield speaking, but what I actually walked away with, was a single line from a very old and familiar hymn.

The band led us in singing Praise, My Soul, the King of Heaven and the tent was filled with voices lifted in worship. It's always a powerful and uplifting sound that makes your heart swell. 

We got to the third verse and these words,   

'well our feeble frame he knows.'

I had to pause to take a breath as my throat tightened.

That one line caught me by surprise. I was struck by the truth that God does indeed know how feeble we really are.

Our physical frames break down despite their phenomenal capacity for resilience. Our bodies let us down. The framework of our mind becomes overwhelmed by worry and anxiety. Our hearts ache with sadness. We are battered by the circumstances of life and strength of emotions. 

We are known and loved personally by one who also endured the physical and mental battles of life. It is reassuring to remember that the vulnerability of being made of flesh and bone is known by God. 

We are all struggling. We are fragile creatures. It is wonderful to know that our fragility is not treated with disdain or antipathy by the one who made us. As the hymn says, he treats us with Fatherly compassion and love. He gently bears us in his hands.

'Father-like he tends and spares us... in his hand he gently bears us, rescues us from all our foes.' 

The words were still with me when I woke the next morning. I picked up one of the books that I had bought the night before at the bookshop in the New Horizon tent and read the introduction.

'Before going any further in this book,' the author said, 'take a moment to read through Psalm 103, and ask the Lord to help you hold tight to the perspective presented there.'

The text of the Psalm was printed in the pages that followed, so on I read. To my surprise, I realised that it is from this very Psalm that the lyrics of Praise my Soul are derived.

        As a father has compassion on his children,

        so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him;

 for he knows how we are formed,

        he remembers that we are dust.

It's a reminder that whatever we are facing, in whatever ways we are finding life difficult, we belong to God who cares for us with gentleness and kindness. He knows and understands how we are formed, that we are frail. 

Let the words of the hymn and Psalm be in your mind today, especially if you are feeling down, upset, worried, ill, tired, afraid...

We are rescued and protected from our foes. Being held in God's hands is our safe place. Rest there today in peace. 

'So tell us a bit about yourself.' Argh!!

There's a section on a facebook page and blog site that I dread being faced with. I find it the hardest

thing to write. I could write a hundred versions and not be satisfied with it. It's the 'about' blurb. Tell your readers about yourself, what are you about, what's your deal?

I enjoyed the view...still climbing.

Last Sunday actually felt as summer holidays should - carefree and easy going under a sunny blue sky.

We spent the afternoon with family at a holiday cottage outside Dundrum and it was rather glorious. Sounds of kids playing in the garden and the men's tennis final in the living room, we ate barbecued burgers and messy marshmallows. A couple of us wandered up a lane next to the house leading into the fields overlooking the Murlough area. The Mourne mountains were visible through the trees and it was all pretty blissful in fact.

And then we took the kids, big and small, to the park, followed by Brennans ice cream in the village where we all decided to take a look up another lane, this time one signposted to the castle. I've lived my whole life in NI and I don't think I have once visited Dundrum Castle!

We swung the cars into the carpark, everyone spilling out with their drippy ice creams and every single one of us, right down to the six year old, exclaimed, 'wow!' when we saw the view.

The whole bay lies before you, the estuarine bends of the water, the curve of the land leading out to sea and the heavy, dark foot of the Mourne mountains over to the right, it is a sight to stun.

Climbing up into the castle ruins, the kids ran like wild rabbits about the grass, disappearing here and there, popping up in overgrown nooks and crannies. The views were even better if you had the courage to clamber up the narrow stone steps to the top of the wall. It made you glad to be alive.

All it takes is a change of perspective to open up a landscape, a movement from here to there. It's movement that starts with curiosity, a desire to see something you haven’t seen before. You notice a lane or a signpost, it leads you in an upwards direction and so you decide to follow it. 

From a height, our perspective changes, it broadens out to take in a vista that we couldn't see before. We are suddenly afforded the opportunity to enjoy beauty that was already there but we were unable to appreciate the extent of it. 

And it made me wonder about what steps could help us see the beauty of God in new expansive ways. Scripture talks often about God drawing people to his mountain. It's an important theme. God draws us upwards so that we can see the beauty of holiness, to a place where the intake of our breath is itself worship. 

What stirring of spiritual curiosity might make us aware of signposts that point us to new revelations of God. Where are the hidden lanes, the narrow paths, the burning bushes even? Will we join with the people of Isaiah 2:3 and say,

 'Come, lets climb God's mountain.' 

If we are climbing the heights of God, our perspective will change. We will be no less aware of the world's atrocities, injustices and inequalities but we will be more aware of how beauty still exists in all its being-redeemed and still-to-be-fully-redeemed glory, for 

'Zion is the source of revelation.' 

It is the place where we will be taught and transformed. 

'He'll show us the way he works so we can live the way we're made.'

It is the place where God reveals himself, the essence of beauty.  

I don't like dusting and being brave is hard.

Blowing the dust off the blog! There is quite a lot of dust in this little corner of the blogosphere but today I am forcing myself to roll up my writing sleeves and get to work. 

My mum once shared a top cleaning tip with me that she had learned from an older friend when she was younger. If a room has become so messy that it puts you off from even starting, the thing to do is set a timer for twenty minutes and work for just that small amount of time. Then walk away from the mess. After another while, go back into the room and you should find that the task is not quite as overwhelming as before, your twenty minutes of work has made a difference. 

So this is my intention today. One small blog post. You need to start somewhere, right?