Off to Church

In a few days we will be heading overseas for a final fling at the rest of the big wide world that is out there some place. As we come up to our last Sunday service in this very special little congregation I am asking myselfd what I will be looking for on the Sundays following.

I think I want to be invited to think. I won't be checking in my brains at the door and I don't want my intelligence to be insulted with the trivial, the unrealistic or the frankly pietistic.
I want to join in singing of three or four congregational hymns – this means that I have to know the tune or be given a copy of the music. That may be a tall order in other countries, and I'll make a little allowance for that. But corporate singing is very important to my understanding of worship.
I don’t want to hear, or be asked to use non-inclusive language. I don't care if people say "When I say man of course I mean everyone" - I appreciate language and want it and its meanings to be unambiguous..
I want to be reminded about some issue of social justice in the context of the environment in which I will be worshipping. I will try to view this in the light of what we have learned from those who have lived in the compassion of Jesus over the centuries.
I don’t want to hear the words “Jesus said” when it would be more accurate to say “Mark’s Jesus said” - I am getting a bit impatient of those who play fast and loose with the bible and this is a point of discernment where the speaker's orientation is revealed.
I hope to experience more acceptance than this list seems to indicate I deserve. God help me, I don't need to make a list of expectations; I just need to be there. Let it be so.

Moving on?

   We have been expecting this moment. Up until recently, nothing could have moved us from this community and this church congregation. But a few years ago, we recognised that we would have to move if one of us lost a driver’s licence, or if the health of either of us became critical, or if the progress of my prostate cancer became hastened.

   For a year now, we have watched my PSA readings go up by as much as 70% each three months. If that very high rate of increase continues, we could be looking at PSA 100 in a year and a half. Of course, the PSA is not necessarily a measure of the cancer’s growth, but it’s an indication that my body thinks there is something that needs dealing with.

   So, while I am fit and not in the least affected by the cancer—it’s the therapies that make life a bit unpleasant at this stage, not the disease!—we think that we have to prepare to move on. That means eventually finding a place where Bev will be comfortable to be on her own, probably a retirement village somewhere near family.

   And it also means tackling a lifetime’s collection of bits and pieces and tidying a sample of them into a simple record. Here’s a receipt for afternoon tea at Bridge Lodge in 1956 – but not all my receipts! And there are some photos, slides, videos and things that may be of interest to family at some time.

   In the process I found a couple of hundred 35mm slides of Dad’s. He gave them to me, all neatly wrapped in little marked bundles, when he was downsizing twenty years ago. Now I have the capability to scan them to a computer disk so descendents he never met will be able to see a little of his life. Not outstanding photography, but clear and bright images from another day. I am so glad to have these and hope that the little of my life that I am passing on will be of as much interest to those who may see it in years to come.

   Nothing is forever, not even memories shifted from fragile film and tape to disk. But, at the same time, the preservation of a little of any life is a worthwhile exercise. I am finding it creative and enjoyable, and every box of rubbish that goes for recycling leaves behind some small contribution to the life of our family.

Gone - no address?

With my recent history of a rapidly rising PSA, it was hardly surprising that my namesake from Canada sent an email enquiring after my health.

Well, thanks, David, and others who wondered, I’m still in the land of the living. The fact is that a blog of this kind, commenced in times of relative leisure during a series of major surgeries, and no particular responsibilities in the local church, was easy to start. But in times of much better general fitness and huge challenges in the life of our little congregation, it has been much harder to maintain.

Our parish has had most of a year with the new combined Parish Council and Ministry Team. It is a huge improvement on two or even three separate little organisations. The six of us are working well and enjoying the experience, but finding our time pretty fully occupied.

And in the last three months we have been through the horrendous business of closing the Methodist church at Russell. Services ceased last year but we waited for the centenary in late April for the closing. It was a bittersweet occasion. We had a packed church with great singing and enthusiastic participation in a much appreciated special liturgy. The President of the Methodist Church of New Zealand, Rex Nathan offered a timely address that contributed to a memorable occasion. Upwards of 100 remained for an excellent fellowship lunch.

I was heavily involved in preparing for the event and then, immediately afterwards, in writing the property’s history, to be forwarded with our urgent application to sell. This “Land Story” is required by Methodism for all property transactions, to ensure that the land was not alienated from Maori ownership under oppressive circumstances.

Talented researchers in Auckland and Wellington found that the original sale took place as early as 1829, 11 years before the Treaty of Waitangi. And, in a period from which few written records have survived, they were able to find the names of the six original Maori who signed over the land. The price didn’t sound much by today’s standards, but Land Courts over the next thirty years confirmed that the deal was fair. I dressed up our report in 36 pages of what has turned out to be what I am told is a very useful publication.

So that’s my excuse for being off air for a few weeks. Having said that, my PSA is still going up like a rocket and the best that experts can now offer me is “Keep taking the medicine”… So my emotions are all to heck, my skin and clothes are wet from hot flushes and my brain seems to be quietly fraying at the edges.

But they tell me I’m looking terrific. I’m certainly feeling fine. And I still don’t have a single identifiable symptom of the cancer that is probably growing quite vigorously somewhere in my nether regions.

So, blog on, eh?

Error Messages in LSM - Voting

Parish Council membership must be respected carefully.

A proper election from among the parish membership should put a Council in place each year. If others wish to attend or are invited to be present—

** the seating arrangements should make it clear that they are not voting members

** the record of the meeting should identify them as “observers”

It is too easy for a small group of people who know each other well to become a little relaxed about exactly who has been elected or appointed to make the decisions and carry the responsibility.

This can be a serious problem if conflict arises. But it is easily avoided if there is clarity about exactly who are elected to exercise a vote.

Error Messages in LSM - Conviction

It goes without saying that not all Parish Members will give their fullest support to the LSM strategy. Those who are experiencing deep-seated objections need particular pastoral support—

** They may have formally objected to the decision
** Or you may notice they have just gone very quiet;
** They have not been open to reviewing their point of view as time has gone on.

Whatever their situation, they may require specialised pastoral care over a long period. People do not change their basic convictions easily and may need help to accept a situation which they may feel has been pushed on them by an insensitive majority of the membership.

We pray for the world

We know Easter is upon us just from looking at the paper or watching TV or walking the shops. On all sides is a bold proclamation of what the community believes is important.

We who treasure some different understandings of Easter properly reject this “secular” celebration of the Season. But we need to remember that the Faith which returned to full life after the central figure in the Jesus Way was crucified is not just for us.

Recently, Ann reminded the Ministry Team of the many Christian communities who maintain regular regimes of prayer. They don’t just pray for the world to get what it wants or needs; they pray on behalf of the world which usually neglects to pray for itself.

Sometimes our insignificant efforts to stand up for meaning in a noisy, uncaring world seem pointless. It seems hopeless to try to persuade today’s secular society that Easter means more than bunnies and chocolate.

Perhaps that’s not what we are called to do. We’re called just to be Christ’s people on behalf of those who can’t be bothered. We’re just called to be faithful. Of course we will speak out about the injustices of a society that is led only by economics and Easter shopping glitz and political expendiency. But, at heart, that’s because we are people of faith.

Easter bunnies have nothing on that!

Do not write your password down

A LETTER TO OUR BANK:

In respect of your requirement that passwords not be written down or stored in a computer, we need some guidance as to how you suggest we remember these. We have checked our memories carefully and find that, between us, we find we have about 130 passwords and other verification which are not to be written down nor stored as above.

If you check our application form for our birth dates you will appreciate that memorising four or six more items of information is now a rather difficult chore (we had to check our birth certificates to get our names right). So we have decided enough is enough and, despite our signatures on the application, we are not confident that our assurance on this issue can be quite absolute. So we are looking for ways of dealing with this situation.

One possibility is that instead of writing down the necessary information, specifically forbidden by you, we write it up, as is usually done of notes after a meeting. These are seldom written down but often written up. This seems to us to be the simplest solution to our dilemma.

However, given that we are quite tech-savvy for a couple of oldies, we have looked for more sophisticated ways of dealing with the problem. So, instead of storing the information in a computer, we presume it would be acceptable to store it in a camera, reel-to-reel tape recorder or audiocassette machine. We can also use a personal digital assistant, electronic address book or recording pen. Looking ahead a little, we might use a wristwatch with recording capability or videoglasses which could portray a visual list of up to 250 items page-turned at the flick of an eyebrow.

Just so that you know we are taking your conditions seriously, perhaps you would give us some guidance as to your realistic expectations.

Thank you for your assistance

Today, with about a dozen other people, I watched a young mum with a babe in her arms, having a struggle with one of those “terrible twos”. The child was lying on the ground screaming her head off. People in most of the big shopping carpark and the adjacent café all turned to watch.

Her mother was very patient but helpless. An older woman stepped over and had a sympathetic chat but the child yelled on. With everyone watching but doing nothing, Mum eventually dragged the child off by one arm to even more determined shrieking and an embarrassing show of resistance and agonising pain.

After a few steps mum let the youngster down on the ground where a full-blown tantrum developed. I walked over and said to the now somewhat distressed mother, “Would you like me to pick her up?” and, without waiting for a reply, I did so. Of course, the noise subsided on the instant.

I carried her with her Mum and baby brother over to the supermarket. We fitted the two of them them into a two-seater shopping trolley. They disappeared inside and peace returned to the forecourt.

I left the scene quickly. The last time I kissed a child that wasn’t a close relation I was reported to the Methodist Harassment Police and I had to write an abject apology.

How many chiefs does it take?

Our small parish is now just one congregation with a membership of a couple of dozen. For twenty years we have been using Local Shared Ministry. There's no minister, indeed, no paid person at all. But our strategy seems to be a bit of a mystery to the powers that be. We don't fit the mould.

We have just been informed that we are now to have a "Parish Superintendent" Minister. He will visit us from three hours away, apparently a couple of times a year. Not such a big chore for him, and we know him and would love to have a visit. But we wonder who will pay for all that travelling.

And we want to protest that our little corner of the Vineyard is already supervised, in some degree or other, by the President and Council of Churches Together In Northland, which is our regional affiliation and is supposed to provide pastoral and administrative support. Through CTN, we are also responsible to the Uniting Churches of Aotearoa-New Zealand which draws together ecumenical parishes such as ours.

But, being under Methodist jurisdiction at the present, we are also responsible to the Methodist District Superintendent of Auckland, as well as a new Regional Superintendent for Northland (but who also lives outside Northland and will have to travel for a couple of hours to see us).

And most importantly in our view, we have a Ministry Enabler who meets with our Parish Council Team for training, supervision, support and, to provide the necessary links to the wider church. We think she is quite adequate to replace all these ecclesiastical dignitaries. 

Now I hear on the grapevine that we may shortly be moved to Presbyterian jurisdiction. Right now, that sounds like a good move.

Where to go on Sunday

      Bev and I had a busy time while down south last month and it wasn’t always possible to attend worship on Sundays. But when we did, we became very aware of the difficulty of finding a place to worship.
     Information was quite hard to find: times and places were sometimes incorrectly advertised on notice boards, websites and newspapers. All the apologies in the world don’t make up for wrong information.
     But more important for us was what kind of service did we want to attend? Time was when you looked for the nearest church of your denomination. But these days that doesn’t work for us any more. There are Methodist churches which are as “progressive” as we could hope for and others that offer a couple of hours of something more like we might find at the local pentecostals. And there are not many in between those extremes.
     You might say, “Never mind what it’s like, it just matters that you attend”. We don’t feel like that any more. Doing worship well matters. It is vitally important for both the participants and their communities.
     I would like to think that our little congregation's worship leaders will continue to have a sense of that importance. Meanwhile, we have a new noticeboard... and I should take a photo and add it to this....