Post by JEM on Jun 8, 2020 12:59:09 GMT
JOHN GODDARD'S THOUGHT FOR THE DAY 2020..April 15
One of the side effects of the current lock-down is on my sense of time passing. In normal reality I would be checking my diary on a very regular basis, for appointments and necessary tasks. Currently it sits unloved and unlooked at - full of cancelled and crossed out dates. Today was probably the day we would have visited Pompeii for the first time, and instead I'm thinking that I might take a wander out into the garden. I was anticipating the Bay of Naples and instead I shall stare at our pond...
Time is still passing. I might not always know what day of the week it is, but I'm clearer that this is the fourth week of lock-down. We are getting through this. This will not last for ever. If my diary is no longer a reliable guide then perhaps my pond could be? On 11 March, 12 days before lock-down began, the frog spawn appeared in our pond. A little over three weeks later the first tadpoles began to appear. The life they bring to the pond means other life thrives. The Water Boatmen are hunting them, and two Smooth Newts have arrived to join the feast. If enough of them survive to be fatter and bigger tadpoles and froglets then perhaps a Grass Snake will join the party.
But lurking beneath are the supreme predators - the dragonfly nymphs. A dragonfly will spend most of its life in the larval stage as a nymph, eating everything and anything for anything from a few months to several years, readying itself for the moment it will emerge as an adult dragonfly. It is hard to predict when that will be, but once they emerge they are transformed!
So, I am waiting by our pond. Waiting for the beasts of the deep to become the jewels of the air. Waiting for their transformation to be complete and for their visible existence to begin again. We are probably still a month away from the dragons emerging (although the damselflies could arrive any day now...), but emerge they will.
Some parallels are too easy... Lurking, hidden, eating, and waiting. Longing for the freedom to emerge and live differently. We are longing for the time when this crisis will pass and we can live our lives differently. Some of us are longing to see family and friends, to meet and hold and speak face to face. Some of us are planning our first liberty Latte on the way to get a haircut. And some of us just want to be able to take the garden waste to the tip... And we will. It will happen. We will come through this. We cannot predict when exactly, but it will happen.
And some of us will gather in our churches and give thanks - truly give thanks to the God who is still with us even on the days we have lost sight and lost hope.
Will it be the same? Christianity does not teach a faith of same old same old rolling on for ever, but rather it teaches of hope filled lives for the living. Resurrection lives. Easter hope. A transformation to the way we see and live and think and love. Will we emerge from this time unchanged, or will we allow ourselves to be transformed by God's hope and love at work within us. The Apostle Paul put it this way when he wrote to the Roman Church nearly 2,000 years ago: 'Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect.'
We will live again in this world, but we don't have to stay the same... Amen?
JOHN GODDARD'S THOUGHT FOR THE DAY 2020..April 18
This morning as I drove to the local supermarket to pick up some shopping I realised that my SatNav had become detached from its usual mount and was somewhere in the passenger footwell. I first bought a SatNav after getting spectacularly lost somewhere in Liverpool, trying and failing to find the Bishop's house. I had found it fine the previous time, so I'm not quite sure why it had moved... Long story short, I never did find it that day, and drove home to Cumbria cursing my own stupidity. The next day I bought a SatNav, and on my next visit to Liverpool, this time headed for the offices by the Cathedral, I followed directions - even when it sent me through the middle of the bus station waving apologetically as bemused bus drivers. Let's face it, I do sometimes get lost!
Despite appearances I do enjoy a good walk, but I am always a little nervous about losing my way. Our family tells entertaining stories of family walks in Cumbria where a minor detour to view a waterfall could result in scrambling over scree and rock-slides as the path disappeared never to be found again. Even a good map can let you down as the landscape is far more changeable than it might first appear. Perhaps that's why some of my favourite walks are circumnavigating lakes. So long as the water is always on the same side you will probably end up where you first began - eventually... The stress of being lost is only marginally worse than the fear that I might lose my way.
But not today, and not for a while. My SatNav is now about as much use as my excellent collection of maps, and my diary and my passport. I have nowhere to go, and all the time in the world...! I will not be getting lost.
And yet these confusing and challenging times it is possible to feel like we are losing our way. We speak of feeling lost. Some of us are looking for new guides and familiar paths as we navigate lockdown and social distancing. It maybe confusion around new rules - our Tesco now has a one way system which requires you to walk down the alcohol aisle twice if you need frozen food. Or it may be a more existential sense of loss and losing our way as we reflect on what we truly value in life and what our true sense of purpose is determined by.
Some of us find comfort and direction in our faith. For Christians the words of Jesus recorded in John 14 are an ever-present reality; 'I am the way, the truth, and the life...' Jesus not only shows us the way to true living, he is the way - he has opened up the way to us and for us.
And yet, we can still find ourselves feeling lost - even in our faith.
Some of the most comforting words of challenge, and challenging words of comfort in my Christian journey come from the writings of Thomas Merton, a Catholic monk who died in the 1960s. I want to leave you with his words of being lost and found in the midst of all that life throws at you, and the realisation that our sense of purpose lies in the desire to please the God who loves without limit, who loves you however lost you may feel, who loves you wherever you might wander.
My Lord God,
I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
Nor do I really know myself,
and the fact that I think that I am following Your will
does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please You
does in fact please You.
And I hope that I have that desire
in all that I am doing.
And I know that if I do this,
You will lead me by the right road
although I may know nothing about it.
Therefore will I trust You always,
though I may seem to be lost
and in the shadow of death,
I will not fear, for You are ever with me,
and will never leave me
to face my perils alone.
Thomas Merton, from Thoughts in So
John Goddard, 15th April 202
One of the side effects of the current lock-down is on my sense of time passing. In normal reality I would be checking my diary on a very regular basis, for appointments and necessary tasks. Currently it sits unloved and unlooked at - full of cancelled and crossed out dates. Today was probably the day we would have visited Pompeii for the first time, and instead I'm thinking that I might take a wander out into the garden. I was anticipating the Bay of Naples and instead I shall stare at our pond...
Time is still passing. I might not always know what day of the week it is, but I'm clearer that this is the fourth week of lock-down. We are getting through this. This will not last for ever. If my diary is no longer a reliable guide then perhaps my pond could be? On 11 March, 12 days before lock-down began, the frog spawn appeared in our pond. A little over three weeks later the first tadpoles began to appear. The life they bring to the pond means other life thrives. The Water Boatmen are hunting them, and two Smooth Newts have arrived to join the feast. If enough of them survive to be fatter and bigger tadpoles and froglets then perhaps a Grass Snake will join the party.
But lurking beneath are the supreme predators - the dragonfly nymphs. A dragonfly will spend most of its life in the larval stage as a nymph, eating everything and anything for anything from a few months to several years, readying itself for the moment it will emerge as an adult dragonfly. It is hard to predict when that will be, but once they emerge they are transformed!
So, I am waiting by our pond. Waiting for the beasts of the deep to become the jewels of the air. Waiting for their transformation to be complete and for their visible existence to begin again. We are probably still a month away from the dragons emerging (although the damselflies could arrive any day now...), but emerge they will.
Some parallels are too easy... Lurking, hidden, eating, and waiting. Longing for the freedom to emerge and live differently. We are longing for the time when this crisis will pass and we can live our lives differently. Some of us are longing to see family and friends, to meet and hold and speak face to face. Some of us are planning our first liberty Latte on the way to get a haircut. And some of us just want to be able to take the garden waste to the tip... And we will. It will happen. We will come through this. We cannot predict when exactly, but it will happen.
And some of us will gather in our churches and give thanks - truly give thanks to the God who is still with us even on the days we have lost sight and lost hope.
Will it be the same? Christianity does not teach a faith of same old same old rolling on for ever, but rather it teaches of hope filled lives for the living. Resurrection lives. Easter hope. A transformation to the way we see and live and think and love. Will we emerge from this time unchanged, or will we allow ourselves to be transformed by God's hope and love at work within us. The Apostle Paul put it this way when he wrote to the Roman Church nearly 2,000 years ago: 'Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect.'
We will live again in this world, but we don't have to stay the same... Amen?
JOHN GODDARD'S THOUGHT FOR THE DAY 2020..April 18
This morning as I drove to the local supermarket to pick up some shopping I realised that my SatNav had become detached from its usual mount and was somewhere in the passenger footwell. I first bought a SatNav after getting spectacularly lost somewhere in Liverpool, trying and failing to find the Bishop's house. I had found it fine the previous time, so I'm not quite sure why it had moved... Long story short, I never did find it that day, and drove home to Cumbria cursing my own stupidity. The next day I bought a SatNav, and on my next visit to Liverpool, this time headed for the offices by the Cathedral, I followed directions - even when it sent me through the middle of the bus station waving apologetically as bemused bus drivers. Let's face it, I do sometimes get lost!
Despite appearances I do enjoy a good walk, but I am always a little nervous about losing my way. Our family tells entertaining stories of family walks in Cumbria where a minor detour to view a waterfall could result in scrambling over scree and rock-slides as the path disappeared never to be found again. Even a good map can let you down as the landscape is far more changeable than it might first appear. Perhaps that's why some of my favourite walks are circumnavigating lakes. So long as the water is always on the same side you will probably end up where you first began - eventually... The stress of being lost is only marginally worse than the fear that I might lose my way.
But not today, and not for a while. My SatNav is now about as much use as my excellent collection of maps, and my diary and my passport. I have nowhere to go, and all the time in the world...! I will not be getting lost.
And yet these confusing and challenging times it is possible to feel like we are losing our way. We speak of feeling lost. Some of us are looking for new guides and familiar paths as we navigate lockdown and social distancing. It maybe confusion around new rules - our Tesco now has a one way system which requires you to walk down the alcohol aisle twice if you need frozen food. Or it may be a more existential sense of loss and losing our way as we reflect on what we truly value in life and what our true sense of purpose is determined by.
Some of us find comfort and direction in our faith. For Christians the words of Jesus recorded in John 14 are an ever-present reality; 'I am the way, the truth, and the life...' Jesus not only shows us the way to true living, he is the way - he has opened up the way to us and for us.
And yet, we can still find ourselves feeling lost - even in our faith.
Some of the most comforting words of challenge, and challenging words of comfort in my Christian journey come from the writings of Thomas Merton, a Catholic monk who died in the 1960s. I want to leave you with his words of being lost and found in the midst of all that life throws at you, and the realisation that our sense of purpose lies in the desire to please the God who loves without limit, who loves you however lost you may feel, who loves you wherever you might wander.
My Lord God,
I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
Nor do I really know myself,
and the fact that I think that I am following Your will
does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please You
does in fact please You.
And I hope that I have that desire
in all that I am doing.
And I know that if I do this,
You will lead me by the right road
although I may know nothing about it.
Therefore will I trust You always,
though I may seem to be lost
and in the shadow of death,
I will not fear, for You are ever with me,
and will never leave me
to face my perils alone.
Thomas Merton, from Thoughts in So
John Goddard, 15th April 202