Post by JEM on Jun 8, 2020 14:48:28 GMT
JOHN GODDARD'S THOUGHT FOR THE DAY 2020 May 26
Some thoughts from Nick Lear, our Regional Minister:
Dear friends
Recent events have got me thinking about ‘optics’. No, I haven’t been thinking about glasses (although I am reminded of the reason for cleaning your glasses: you can’t be optimistic with a misty optic). I have been thinking about political optics. That’s the way that events are perceived by the public. I am not going to go into the wrongs or rights of what Dominic Cummings did or said, or the Prime Minister’s responses about them, but it seems to me that they have made judgements based on the optics of the scenario. I suspect that the initial judgment was that if they kept quiet the storm would pass, but as the clamour got louder there was a realisation that a public statement needed to be made to change the optics. That is why we had the unprecedented press conference in the garden at 10 Downing Street yesterday when Mr Cummings explained his actions.
Much of what is said and done in public life is affected by optics – how it will be perceived. And in a society where public opinion matters then sometimes it feels that optics matter more than anything else.
It’s not just contemporary politics where optics matter. Remember Judas’s reaction to the woman who washed Jesus’ feet with her tears, poured expensive perfume over them and wiped them with her hair? At face value he seems to have been worried about the expense. But was he perhaps more concerned about the optics? How would it look if people thought Jesus was allowing strange women to treat him that way? What would people think about the extravagance and how he seemed to have encouraged it rather than condemning it? Could it damage Jesus’ approval ratings at a time when the authorities were looking for ways to discredit him, or even worse? Of course we know that he had missed the point entirely. This wasn’t about ruining Jesus’ reputation, it was about restoring hers. It wasn’t about the cost of the perfume it was about the cost of forgiveness. It wasn’t about an embarrassment caused by the excluded it was about embracing one who knew she was included.
Do we think about optics? Have we changed our online meetings background so people can see how many theological books we own and be impressed? Do we track the statistics and comments about our latest online service to see how many people watched and how many ‘thumbs up’ we got, and does that affect what we may say? Do we sometimes hope that people will let others know that we have been helpful to them, and perhaps drop into a conversation how busy we have been to ensure that people are impressed with us? Are we sometimes more aware of the loud voices in our church and change what we were planning to do or say in order not to upset those people in particular?
Jesus was not worried about optics. The only person he sought to please was his Father in heaven. That’s why the first part of his prayer-pattern is: “Our Father in heaven, your name is holy. May your will be done and your kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven.” He knew the worshipping woman’s heart – that she was seeking to show her gratitude, love and devotion and she didn’t care about the optics – Jesus mattered most. May we have the same approach to all that we say and do – for an audience of One.
Bless you JG
JOHN GODDARD'S THOUGHT FOR THE DAY 2020 June 2nd.
Over the weekend I needed to perform a small act of DIY. I realise that for normal women and men this is a perfectly normal activity, but it is exactly the sort of adulting that has always given me pause for thought. Experience has taught me that seemingly simple repairs can be filled with unforeseen problems, and that solving one issue is all too likely to create others!
Thankfully this weekend’s task was simple enough. All I had to do was drill a couple of holes into the exterior brickwork at the Manse to put up a bracket for a hanging basket. What could possibly go wrong up a ladder with a hammer drill?
My Comprehensive School education meant that I had used stand drills and hand tools in metalwork and woodwork, but I didn’t get my hands on a hammer drill until my mid-teens, when I ‘needed’ to build a large shelf in my childhood bedroom to hold my model railway layout. I chose a day when my parents would be out, borrowed a drill and started work. The result was not a thing of beauty, not least because I used the sort of angle brackets usually reserved for hanging ladders in your garage rather than for interior decoration, but it worked. In fact I think it is still there, and my long-suffering parents reacted with more grace than I might have mustered if either of my lads had done such a thing!
Our current hammer drill was a wedding present back in 1992, which could be testament to the durability of the Black & Decker brand, or possibly an indication that it doesn’t get a lot of use. Its previous outing was to insert some drainage holes in the bottom of a large wooden planter, now occupied by a small Magnolia. The planter was actually a cut down half of a cask previously used for maturing whisky, and so drilling the holes was not only simple – the holes could be anywhere and wood is easily drilled – but also pleasurable as the sawdust gave up one final aroma of the whisky it had once held. But drilling into brickwork is a different ballgame. What if it’s a flawed brick and starts to crumble? What if it’s especially tough and doesn’t allow you to drill to the required depth? What if the whole house falls down as a result? Granted, none of these outcomes are very likely but when poised on a ladder with a drill these possibilities are added to other imagined scenarios, not least of which is falling from the ladder whilst holding a power tool… What’s the worst that could happen? I have a vivid imagination!
Everything was fine. The drill did its job, the plugs and screws went in nicely, and the bracket looks fixed and firm. It might even outlast my trusty old drill! And we will enjoy the hanging basket.
I wonder how much of my life has been spent worrying about everything that might go wrong? In our current crisis we are quite rightly assessing risk and making careful judgments – stay home, stay alert! But the reality of this life is that everything has risk. When we love someone we run the risk of rejection. When we trust someone we run the risk of being lied to. When we help someone we run the risk of being abused. And yet we continue to love, and trust, and help because the alternatives – the certainties of a risk free existence – are selfish isolation and loneliness.
I have sometimes been accused of putting my trust in something old and obsolete – a Christian faith no longer fit for purpose in our brave new world. It is possible that some of our structures still need replacing, not least where they have permitted, and even encouraged, sexist, racist and homophobic attitudes. But if you peel away the layers of hypocrisy and unnecessary tradition, there is at the core of the Christian faith a life worth living. A life where love sets us free to love others. A life where forgiveness, grace and resurrection reign in a world of hatred, violence and death. A life exemplified and enabled by Jesus the Christ.
Centuries before Jesus was born, the Prophet Amos wrote of how much God despised the hypocritical religious practices of his day:
‘Take away from me the noise of your songs;
I will not listen to the melody of your harps.
But let justice roll down like waters,
and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.’ (Amos 5:23-24)
It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with the worship music of the day, it was just that it wasn’t matched with a desire for justice for all people. The Prophet knows that justice and righteousness will burst forth and wash away the hypocrisy of selfish lives. Jesus challenged the injustices and prejudices of his day, inspired by the words of the Prophets, daring to challenge people to love extravagantly – to love neighbours as they loved themselves – and even to find the courage to love their enemies. Love is not without risk, and the crucifixion reminds us that it is not without cost, but love will win. Love for all. No excepted categories. No barely tolerated minorities. Love for all – always.
Christians and churches need to be people prepared to take risks. To risk loving generously and extravagantly, in word and deed. To have the courage to love as much as we have been loved. For God so loved the world…
What’s the worst that could happen?
Some thoughts from Nick Lear, our Regional Minister:
Dear friends
Recent events have got me thinking about ‘optics’. No, I haven’t been thinking about glasses (although I am reminded of the reason for cleaning your glasses: you can’t be optimistic with a misty optic). I have been thinking about political optics. That’s the way that events are perceived by the public. I am not going to go into the wrongs or rights of what Dominic Cummings did or said, or the Prime Minister’s responses about them, but it seems to me that they have made judgements based on the optics of the scenario. I suspect that the initial judgment was that if they kept quiet the storm would pass, but as the clamour got louder there was a realisation that a public statement needed to be made to change the optics. That is why we had the unprecedented press conference in the garden at 10 Downing Street yesterday when Mr Cummings explained his actions.
Much of what is said and done in public life is affected by optics – how it will be perceived. And in a society where public opinion matters then sometimes it feels that optics matter more than anything else.
It’s not just contemporary politics where optics matter. Remember Judas’s reaction to the woman who washed Jesus’ feet with her tears, poured expensive perfume over them and wiped them with her hair? At face value he seems to have been worried about the expense. But was he perhaps more concerned about the optics? How would it look if people thought Jesus was allowing strange women to treat him that way? What would people think about the extravagance and how he seemed to have encouraged it rather than condemning it? Could it damage Jesus’ approval ratings at a time when the authorities were looking for ways to discredit him, or even worse? Of course we know that he had missed the point entirely. This wasn’t about ruining Jesus’ reputation, it was about restoring hers. It wasn’t about the cost of the perfume it was about the cost of forgiveness. It wasn’t about an embarrassment caused by the excluded it was about embracing one who knew she was included.
Do we think about optics? Have we changed our online meetings background so people can see how many theological books we own and be impressed? Do we track the statistics and comments about our latest online service to see how many people watched and how many ‘thumbs up’ we got, and does that affect what we may say? Do we sometimes hope that people will let others know that we have been helpful to them, and perhaps drop into a conversation how busy we have been to ensure that people are impressed with us? Are we sometimes more aware of the loud voices in our church and change what we were planning to do or say in order not to upset those people in particular?
Jesus was not worried about optics. The only person he sought to please was his Father in heaven. That’s why the first part of his prayer-pattern is: “Our Father in heaven, your name is holy. May your will be done and your kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven.” He knew the worshipping woman’s heart – that she was seeking to show her gratitude, love and devotion and she didn’t care about the optics – Jesus mattered most. May we have the same approach to all that we say and do – for an audience of One.
Bless you JG
JOHN GODDARD'S THOUGHT FOR THE DAY 2020 June 2nd.
Over the weekend I needed to perform a small act of DIY. I realise that for normal women and men this is a perfectly normal activity, but it is exactly the sort of adulting that has always given me pause for thought. Experience has taught me that seemingly simple repairs can be filled with unforeseen problems, and that solving one issue is all too likely to create others!
Thankfully this weekend’s task was simple enough. All I had to do was drill a couple of holes into the exterior brickwork at the Manse to put up a bracket for a hanging basket. What could possibly go wrong up a ladder with a hammer drill?
My Comprehensive School education meant that I had used stand drills and hand tools in metalwork and woodwork, but I didn’t get my hands on a hammer drill until my mid-teens, when I ‘needed’ to build a large shelf in my childhood bedroom to hold my model railway layout. I chose a day when my parents would be out, borrowed a drill and started work. The result was not a thing of beauty, not least because I used the sort of angle brackets usually reserved for hanging ladders in your garage rather than for interior decoration, but it worked. In fact I think it is still there, and my long-suffering parents reacted with more grace than I might have mustered if either of my lads had done such a thing!
Our current hammer drill was a wedding present back in 1992, which could be testament to the durability of the Black & Decker brand, or possibly an indication that it doesn’t get a lot of use. Its previous outing was to insert some drainage holes in the bottom of a large wooden planter, now occupied by a small Magnolia. The planter was actually a cut down half of a cask previously used for maturing whisky, and so drilling the holes was not only simple – the holes could be anywhere and wood is easily drilled – but also pleasurable as the sawdust gave up one final aroma of the whisky it had once held. But drilling into brickwork is a different ballgame. What if it’s a flawed brick and starts to crumble? What if it’s especially tough and doesn’t allow you to drill to the required depth? What if the whole house falls down as a result? Granted, none of these outcomes are very likely but when poised on a ladder with a drill these possibilities are added to other imagined scenarios, not least of which is falling from the ladder whilst holding a power tool… What’s the worst that could happen? I have a vivid imagination!
Everything was fine. The drill did its job, the plugs and screws went in nicely, and the bracket looks fixed and firm. It might even outlast my trusty old drill! And we will enjoy the hanging basket.
I wonder how much of my life has been spent worrying about everything that might go wrong? In our current crisis we are quite rightly assessing risk and making careful judgments – stay home, stay alert! But the reality of this life is that everything has risk. When we love someone we run the risk of rejection. When we trust someone we run the risk of being lied to. When we help someone we run the risk of being abused. And yet we continue to love, and trust, and help because the alternatives – the certainties of a risk free existence – are selfish isolation and loneliness.
I have sometimes been accused of putting my trust in something old and obsolete – a Christian faith no longer fit for purpose in our brave new world. It is possible that some of our structures still need replacing, not least where they have permitted, and even encouraged, sexist, racist and homophobic attitudes. But if you peel away the layers of hypocrisy and unnecessary tradition, there is at the core of the Christian faith a life worth living. A life where love sets us free to love others. A life where forgiveness, grace and resurrection reign in a world of hatred, violence and death. A life exemplified and enabled by Jesus the Christ.
Centuries before Jesus was born, the Prophet Amos wrote of how much God despised the hypocritical religious practices of his day:
‘Take away from me the noise of your songs;
I will not listen to the melody of your harps.
But let justice roll down like waters,
and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.’ (Amos 5:23-24)
It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with the worship music of the day, it was just that it wasn’t matched with a desire for justice for all people. The Prophet knows that justice and righteousness will burst forth and wash away the hypocrisy of selfish lives. Jesus challenged the injustices and prejudices of his day, inspired by the words of the Prophets, daring to challenge people to love extravagantly – to love neighbours as they loved themselves – and even to find the courage to love their enemies. Love is not without risk, and the crucifixion reminds us that it is not without cost, but love will win. Love for all. No excepted categories. No barely tolerated minorities. Love for all – always.
Christians and churches need to be people prepared to take risks. To risk loving generously and extravagantly, in word and deed. To have the courage to love as much as we have been loved. For God so loved the world…
What’s the worst that could happen?