I have not posted on my blog for over a week, simply because I have been too busy. There have been a few nights when I have been wanting to write, but when I sat to do it I was simply too tired. Here is a catch up.
Saving souls.
My last post was about saving the souls on my slippers. Last Friday night we had a full drop-in centre and I was busy playing table tennis, washing dishes and socialising. I went down the hall to a pool table and saw a bunch of guys playing pool. Some had mental health problems, others intellectual limitations but they were enjoying pool together with a others watching and enjoying the game. Here was companionship, healthy laughter, sportsmanship, acceptance and just life affirming fun. I play table tennis with guys who love to beat me. I see them come alive at the end of the table, enjoying their skill, appreciating mine and sometimes telling me about their life. Last Friday night I thought about my tongue in cheek blog post, and was reminded, I am saving souls. I am helping to bring into often troubled lives life enhancing friendship, companionship and happiness. I am saving souls, not in the old religious sense, but facilitating a measure of love, acceptance and wholeness in peoples living.
Sunday lunch
Our foster daughter with intellectual (and physical) handicaps has moved houses. She is in a house with others and they have full time care. They had a potluck lunch for families, so my wife and I, my daughter and son-in-law joined in. Now I would not wish handicaps on anybody. Being involved with people with handicaps can be a gut wrenching, heart aching and hard work journey. But as we met the families of other residents, brothers and sisters, parents and others, and the carers in the house, somehow working and living with folks who have handicaps brings out the best qualities in humans. There are few pretensions, just open honest enjoyment and appreciation of the simple things of life. I was sitting next to Pania (our 34 year old foster daughter) helping her feed and singing softly too her. A lady nearby assisting her sister grinned knowingly. "Do you have secret songs you sing too? We do that don't we?" as she nudged her sister, "I love it" she said. However challenging they are, our experiences with Pania continue to enrich our life.
Funeral
Last Monday saw me leading a funeral for a 91 year old Church member. He had been a well known businessman in town and his late wife was my mum's cousin, so I had known him since my childhood days. He taught me how to play table tennis. In the early 1960s when we were young teenagers we complained to my father that "there was nothing to do!" He told us to get off our butts and do something for ourselves. With his encouragement we built table tennis tables and decided to begin a table tennis club down at our Church. This man had been a table tennis champion so my dad asked him to come down for a couple of Saturday nights and teach us to play the game. The Table Tennis club expanded and became a youth group of around 40 people (at times) - but I am still playing table tennis. I led this funeral and got so much positive feedback. A man who has recently retired and was awarded a Queens honour for his career as a journalist on TV said, "You have a gift. Every time I attend one of your services I am so impressed." I told him I was looking forward to not doing them because it does cost. "Oh I am aware of the personal cost such work involves." and he mentioned his own experiences on TV. It is interesting. On Sunday prior to my normal Sunday service, and Monday the day of the big funeral, while eating my porridge at breakfast, my hand was shaking as I lifted my spoon to my mouth, spilling milk and porridge back into the plate. I wondered why I get so stressed and what such stress is doing to my body?
Night Shelter Street Appeal
Last week the Night Shelter had its street appeal. We ended up doing rushed preparations because the man who was to run it resigned and left us with the task at a late stage. I needed somebody to ring volunteers and sort out who collected where and my ever patient wife (who knows I hate cold calling) stepped into the breach and put in hours of phone work over the last couple of weeks. So this week has involved delivering and collecting buckets and standing for several hours at a time collecting money off passers by. (as well as trying to fit in my normal work) It is always an interesting experience. I think I could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times somebody under 30 put money in. (not counting children sent by parents) Young people just ignored our presence as they walked past. The most frequent donors by far were women over the age of 50. Perhaps it means that such generosity will fade out with the next generation? Or perhaps we become more compassionate and generous as we get older? Or is it that we just have more spare money to give as we age? It may just be that young people these days do not carry cash? Having said that some students offered to help collect. It was delightful. We went to gather their buckets and these two girls were sitting in the doorway of this supermarket having a ball. One had the Night Shelter poster and was jostling it to gain attention, the other had the bucket. They were all smiles and laughter and the people seemed to be responding. We have not counted all the money yet, but the results look good. Last night as we collected the buckets we were foot sore and exhausted. While collecting I realised that I know so many people. On one particular two and a half hour stint at a supermarket I had conversations with so many people I knew. I met this woman I used to run with years ago. I had not seen her to talk with for quite a few years. We dropped into easy conversation again. Ministers, ex-firefighters, drop-in centre folks, people from past chaplaincies and others stopped by to have a chat. One encounter was with a stranger. He dug in his pocket to find cash. Out dropped a nail, a screw and a paper clip. I asked if they were from his last job. With a grin he admitted to picking these up off the footpath. "I do that!" I exclaimed. We shared our gathering/hoarding hobby, and how we store our finds, laughing at how our friends and relatives react. When he left he gave me his card.
MRI scan
On Thursday I went for my MRI scan, a check to see if I have prostate cancer, or any cancer "down there". People had warned me about how claustrophobic it would be and of the terrible noise. I found it OK. (perhaps because I was expecting worse) I closed my eyes and nearly fell asleep. I await the results. What will be will be.... I don't really have time to worry about it.
Will I fight it?
I received an email on Wednesday in which the national leadership team of our denomination informed me that they are going to put forward a remit for confirmation in September, which includes a "Statement on Marriage and Sexuality". If passed it will not allow me as a minister of this denomination to marry, bless or endorse a gay couple and it gives their interpretation of scripture to back this up. I will not be allowed to make public statements affirming gay relationships. Now we are congregationally governed so I do not think that constitutionally they have the right to dictate such things. Secondly I disagree with their stance. I have already broken their proposed rules by sharing my thoughts on this blog site. I do not know the consequences of disobedience? Maybe I will not be endorsed as a "minister in good standing" and will not be able to marry anybody? Are they going to excommunicate me? They want responses by Tuesday? I groan inwardly. Do I want to buy into a fight with 19 Sundays to go until retirement? But it is a justice issue? It is also a denial of our ethos and history? We are meant to be open to diversity? Watch this space. Whatever I do, I will lose the battle. People in scary times look for authoritarian leadership, they feel safe. In these days when all religions tend to be conservative, they have the numbers to defeat any protest I raise. But life is not black and white. Such directions are not life enhancing, are not within a spirit of love and compassion. I think God would want us to live in loving life-affirming relationships, and is not as concerned about the gender of our "intimate other" as they make out. They are the modern day pharisees. I doubt they would recognise Jesus if he could physically came back amongst us, and would possibly crucify him again. Lord, hasten the day of a broader more life giving, more real faith expression. I sense the noises of an emerging progressive Christian movement. It is so needed.
That has been my week. On Tuesday I fly to Wellington which is still reeling from a powerful earthquake, and still experiencing aftershocks. Another busy week awaits.
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