Preaching for myself....

Banjo Paterson in his poem "The man from Iron Bark" has a line that I am often reminded of. It is describing some youths that sat along the wall in the barbershop. It says, "Their heads were flat, their eyes were dull, they had no brains at all." I am evil but sometimes this line comes to mind as I look out on my congregation on Sunday morning. It is of course an incorrect description but I sometimes get the feel that they front up every Sunday, with no expectation of wanting to learn or grow. They will, because it is their habit, sit through another church service and hope it is entertaining. I on the other hand, spend hours trying to mould a service into something interesting, something that will speak to this mob at their level, with the expectation that it will motivate them toward personal growth, action and christian discipleship. I get little sleep Saturday nights, I stew and scribble and read and read some more. Sunday morning is as tiring as running a half marathon and I am often disappointed in the music we can have. But at the end of it all I wonder if it is at all worth it? What does it achieve? I get the feeling again that I am out of step with everyone else.

• They look on faith as a comfort, I see it as disturbing and a springboard to action.
• Their expectation of Sunday morning is like a drink station, a resting place as they cope with life, I see it as a launching pad so that we can rocket into life.
• They see the church as the place they meet God, I see God at work in the world and it's there that we catch up with him and find partnership.

I had the privilege recently of catching up with a ministry colleague who I "click" with. We were together for barely an hour, yet it was sooo good. I expressed my Sunday morning hassles. I enjoy chaplaincy, the community work that the church allows me to do and many people stuff connections etc. but the religious stuff on Sunday morning I can do without. I hate it, it seems a waste of time and emotional energy. A side issue to the real "Jesus stuff". "What are we doing on Sunday morning?" I said. "What difference does it make?" She empathised and we joked about our nasty feelings and the fact that we are always compromising so as not to offend "the saints". But then she said something really helpful. She said, "I see Sunday mornings as being for myself. I use it as the time I remind myself of what I am about and what is important to me. If others get anything from it is incidental. I have found that to be the best way to cope with the frustrations of it." I found that helpful. I still need to try to communicate and mould stuff for these people, but it is helpful to see that it is as much me preaching to myself, holding up for myself the ideals I aspire to, whether or not others want to listen and/or latch on.

It's not unlike blogging. :-)