Warning! Spoilers below!
Last Saturday I went to watch the latest Batman movie - "The Dark Knight". Since Tim Burton properly launched the caped crusader onto the silver screen in 1989, he has had a total of six Hollywood outings (Batman, Batman Returns, Batman Forever, Batman and Robin , Batman Begins and Batman the Dark Knight).
Tim Burton's original movie marked a return from the garish TV Batman to the original dark streets of Gotham that The Batman patrolled in his debut years in 1939. Sadly a change of direction (into primo family explosive blockbuster mode) for the third and fourth films meant a hideous decline in quality and an almost circular return to the bright comicness of the 1960s. Thankfully, a thoughtful Christopher Nolan sucessfully resurrected Batman in 2005, returning him to the bleak world in which he was born. You see, Batman was never a 'nice guy'; his alter ego, Bruce Wayne may be a billionaire philanthropist, but when he puts on his cape, his streetfighting persona, is as violent and (arguably) as twisted as they come.
It is here that Nolan has really hit the mark. We live in a violent age, our daily news stories consistently full of shootings, robberies, teenage knife crime and this is the world in which our modern Batman lives. He deosn't have any 'real' superpowers, he uses intelligence, physical training and discipline, technology, guile and cunning to outwit the organised criminal minds of Gotham City. Gotham too may be a work of fiction, but Nolan's vision brings it closer to our cites, New York, London, Manchester - we may not always see the underworld, but in his latest movie, its the focus. So with a believeable Batman in a quasi-believeable city, the story itself becomes more real; as we walk past a darkened alley on the wrong side of town, it could be a shadowy version of Gotham itself. Nolan takes the viewer on a journey, ever in danger, but with the wings of hope somewhere above us in the sky.
To complete the picture, the Joker returns to do battle with his nemesis and it was here that I really sat up and take notice. The critics have praised Heath Ledger's performance and rightly so. Jack Nicholson's utterly brilliant performance is not eclipsed by Ledger's interpretation, but Ledger makes Nolan's vision of a real-life, dark as sin Joker chill your spine. Burton and Nicholson retained an element of comic humour for their portrayal, and painted the colour into their frames with the Joker's toys, but Ledger makes the character's insanity colder, more real, he's crossed a line none return from, his humanity removed completely, his hideous black soul exposed for all to see. He calculates with murderous effect - and for what purpose? Purely his own torturous enjoyment. Heath surely deserves a posthumous Oscar, may he rest in peace.
The six films have seen three different directors, two different Jokers, two Harveys and no less than four actors putting on the Crusader's Cape. With a new Dent, Gordon and Joker joining in this Batman tale, I wondered how many times the story will be re-told? I for one am pleased that the Nolan brothers (Jonathan penned the script) have re-told the Batman tale in this way. Its not cheesy (yes its a blockbuster so there's lots of explosions, special effects etc - what do you expect? Its not an arthouse production!) and it returns to its origins - the theme and the message have been uncovered once again. The light and bright comic-book-for-kids layers have been removed and the raw characters of good, evil and the environment in which they battle are revealed; the original message clear. As I watched and the storyline unfolded, this context struck me as very familiar. Just how many stories do we re-tell?
The story of Jesus and the Gospel has been around for 2000 years and it has been re-told in so many ways. We have so many traditions (denominations, expressions, cultures, whatever you like to term them) that tell and have re-told the good news for centuries. Apostolic Catholics, Roman Catholics, Eastern Orthodoxy, Anglicans, Reformed (Baptists, Methodists etc), Pentecostals, Evangelicals... the list goes on. According to World Christian Encyclopedia (year 2000 version), global Christianity had 33,820 denominations!! But there is one God and one Truth: The one God created the universe we live in, and humnanity to love him and worship him. You have to be able to choose to really love, so He gave us that choice. We responded by trying to do things our own way (because we could choose to), which ultimately resulted in death for each individual (Gen 2:15). This ruined our loving relationship with our creator by allowing Sin to have a hold in the world and in our hearts and lives. We don't have the strength to combat that so God sent Himself as His Son, to pay the balance for that Sin and re-right humanity's relationship with God the Father. And here we are back to the film.
Nolans' Batman is human. He loves, he fears, he has no superpowers, he is aware of his own physical limitations and he responds to being toyed with like any other man. Yet he too makes a choice. Jesus made the ultimate sacrifice, taking the sins of the world on His back, breaking Him to death: as the son of God only He could. But Batman too sacrifices himself. He lets his honour and the truth of his actions die for the sake of the people of Gotham, the people he loves and has sworn to protect.
So the film may be too violent for children as young as 12 to watch, but peel back the layers and what do you find? In our churches and outside of them, where we are the 'Dark Knights', God's chosen people commissioned to spread the good news and protect the world from evil (in His Name, authority and power), are we retelling the story? Are we telling the Truth? Or are we letting our layers darken and overshadow the Message we have been entrusted with? Let's be clear. Let's not be afraid and let's show the world that however dark the streets and corners are, the light of Jesus will always shine through.
PS - Todd Bentley is outpouring everywhere!
Monday, 4 August 2008
Wednesday, 16 July 2008
Sometimes there just aren't the words..
As I've been keeping this blog for the last 9 months, I've found it to be many things; a creative expression, a soapbox, a journal, a story, a commentary on my life's journey. I've not written anything for a little while. That's because sometimes it needs to be an empty space.
A book is only as good as the author. Sometimes there are periods in your life when you just don't have the words.
The last few months have been unusual. Losing so many people from around us, the reality of our new jobs, our new outlook on life and the changing shape of organisations we're involved with have brought us many questions, but as yet not revealed any answers and yet, in this space I've really learned something about my relationship with God.
I have to make space for Him.
It sounds so simple and so obvious yet this realisation is revelation. I learned a few months ago that we are designed to be 'human beings', not human 'doings'. 'I am' not 'I do'. When are lives are full of things to do, there is no space to 'be'. When I'm writing I'm not thinking, when I'm watching I'm not seeing, when I'm speaking I'm not listening. God speaks with a still, small voice of calm. In a busy life in a busy world, its all too easy to miss what He's saying.
With the maelstrom around me, a whirlwind of mixed feelings, thoughts, ideas, choices, questions, decisions, answers, paths, destinations, views, opinions, concepts and actions, I've tried to step into the eye of the storm. To try and find the calm there. Like the blank space on a page, its just as important as the words. Its been a conscious decision and its required sacrifices - I've had to choose not to do things, to create this space. But to gain, you have to give, so I've chosen to dig my ditches, to empty myself and need Him, because that's the only way to make room for Him to fill. Only then is there a quiet for God to speak into, where i can hear Him. This is a time therefore, not of speaking, nor even of thinking, but of listening and learning how to listen.
So I might not have my words, but I'll hopefully have His.
A book is only as good as the author. Sometimes there are periods in your life when you just don't have the words.
The last few months have been unusual. Losing so many people from around us, the reality of our new jobs, our new outlook on life and the changing shape of organisations we're involved with have brought us many questions, but as yet not revealed any answers and yet, in this space I've really learned something about my relationship with God.
I have to make space for Him.
It sounds so simple and so obvious yet this realisation is revelation. I learned a few months ago that we are designed to be 'human beings', not human 'doings'. 'I am' not 'I do'. When are lives are full of things to do, there is no space to 'be'. When I'm writing I'm not thinking, when I'm watching I'm not seeing, when I'm speaking I'm not listening. God speaks with a still, small voice of calm. In a busy life in a busy world, its all too easy to miss what He's saying.
With the maelstrom around me, a whirlwind of mixed feelings, thoughts, ideas, choices, questions, decisions, answers, paths, destinations, views, opinions, concepts and actions, I've tried to step into the eye of the storm. To try and find the calm there. Like the blank space on a page, its just as important as the words. Its been a conscious decision and its required sacrifices - I've had to choose not to do things, to create this space. But to gain, you have to give, so I've chosen to dig my ditches, to empty myself and need Him, because that's the only way to make room for Him to fill. Only then is there a quiet for God to speak into, where i can hear Him. This is a time therefore, not of speaking, nor even of thinking, but of listening and learning how to listen.
So I might not have my words, but I'll hopefully have His.
Tuesday, 3 June 2008
Sad things happen in threes
Tomorrow I'm returning to Norfolk again. For another funeral. I'm going to pay my respects to a wonderful man and support my family.
Suddenly and tragically, John Andrews died 10 days ago. He was a lovely man - a fantastic husband, father, grandfather, friend... My sister-in-law's dad, a gentle, kind and caring man who made me feel so welcome whenever I saw him that I hope I can be like that with others.
He leaves behind Marion, Tim, Holly, Robin, Katie, Phil, Elle, Eva and many others. My thoughts, sympathy and prayers are with them.
Whatever your belief, the pain of losing someone so close is unimaginable if its not happened to you.
May he be in peace and joy with Christ. That's where I believe he'll be.
Suddenly and tragically, John Andrews died 10 days ago. He was a lovely man - a fantastic husband, father, grandfather, friend... My sister-in-law's dad, a gentle, kind and caring man who made me feel so welcome whenever I saw him that I hope I can be like that with others.
He leaves behind Marion, Tim, Holly, Robin, Katie, Phil, Elle, Eva and many others. My thoughts, sympathy and prayers are with them.
Whatever your belief, the pain of losing someone so close is unimaginable if its not happened to you.
May he be in peace and joy with Christ. That's where I believe he'll be.
Saturday, 24 May 2008
2 Boldly Go
I want everyone I know to be saved. Actually I want everyone to be saved.
I've not been open enough about this.
Since my conversion, coming to Faith and choosing to walk with Jesus, my life has been transformed. I am being transformed, I view life differently and I do life differently: I don't suffer stress in the same way; I don't care for material goods as I used to; I take life at a slower pace, allowing myself time to take in the meaning of actions and occurrences; I'm not as self-concerned and I care more about others, especially those who have less than me. I care more about what I need than what I want or would like. I no longer chase things that have no substance and I no longer shy away as much from those things I am fearful of.
I make no pretence. I'm far from perfect and I'm still the person I was before, but the choices I make are made with a different attitude. I want to make decisions based in love, not selfishness. The new version of me is still sinful and makes mistakes but it feels like an improved version, as if the good bits are more visible and have been enhanced and that I chose to lose the bad bits and control them. Basically I've come to know a different way of living and I've chosen to try and live it.
What's brought about this change is the effect of Jesus' love and the indwelling Holy Spirit in my life. I know God's grace and His love for me. On an everyday basis I'm happier, more peaceful, more fruitful and my life has more meaning. Deeper than these things, is the understanding I now have of Creation and the meaning of Jesus' death.
In truth, I want everyone (especially those I know and love) to experience . The trouble is, I never really tell people this. Oh yeah, sure, I tell my friends that I go to church and I try (gently) to explain what I do as part of my church, but recently I've realised that it's not enough. Its a crazy thing, but as much as I want people to experience what I do and have what I have through my Faith in Jesus Christ, I don't want to scare them off. The difference between God's Kingdom and the World is so vast that I don't want the culture shock to be a chasm that may never be crossed.
Throughout my life I've experienced hypocrisy from churchgoers, a lack of relevancy from the church and on top of that, a desire to experience the delights of the World and a lack of understanding about what real love and real joy is. But I've realised that I shouldn't let my own experiences cloud my judgment, after all I'm not going to convert anyone - only God can do that. All I can do is ask Him, through prayer, and trust in Him and His Will. If He wants me to preach the Good News in word and deed, then that's something I'll gladly do.
In St Paul's letter to the Ephesians (Eph 6:19-20) he asks for prayer to speak the good news fearlessly, or boldly. It was so important to him that he asks TWICE. It is that important.
So I too pray that this is what God wants me to do and I pray that I will go boldly....
I've not been open enough about this.
Since my conversion, coming to Faith and choosing to walk with Jesus, my life has been transformed. I am being transformed, I view life differently and I do life differently: I don't suffer stress in the same way; I don't care for material goods as I used to; I take life at a slower pace, allowing myself time to take in the meaning of actions and occurrences; I'm not as self-concerned and I care more about others, especially those who have less than me. I care more about what I need than what I want or would like. I no longer chase things that have no substance and I no longer shy away as much from those things I am fearful of.
I make no pretence. I'm far from perfect and I'm still the person I was before, but the choices I make are made with a different attitude. I want to make decisions based in love, not selfishness. The new version of me is still sinful and makes mistakes but it feels like an improved version, as if the good bits are more visible and have been enhanced and that I chose to lose the bad bits and control them. Basically I've come to know a different way of living and I've chosen to try and live it.
What's brought about this change is the effect of Jesus' love and the indwelling Holy Spirit in my life. I know God's grace and His love for me. On an everyday basis I'm happier, more peaceful, more fruitful and my life has more meaning. Deeper than these things, is the understanding I now have of Creation and the meaning of Jesus' death.
In truth, I want everyone (especially those I know and love) to experience . The trouble is, I never really tell people this. Oh yeah, sure, I tell my friends that I go to church and I try (gently) to explain what I do as part of my church, but recently I've realised that it's not enough. Its a crazy thing, but as much as I want people to experience what I do and have what I have through my Faith in Jesus Christ, I don't want to scare them off. The difference between God's Kingdom and the World is so vast that I don't want the culture shock to be a chasm that may never be crossed.
Throughout my life I've experienced hypocrisy from churchgoers, a lack of relevancy from the church and on top of that, a desire to experience the delights of the World and a lack of understanding about what real love and real joy is. But I've realised that I shouldn't let my own experiences cloud my judgment, after all I'm not going to convert anyone - only God can do that. All I can do is ask Him, through prayer, and trust in Him and His Will. If He wants me to preach the Good News in word and deed, then that's something I'll gladly do.
In St Paul's letter to the Ephesians (Eph 6:19-20) he asks for prayer to speak the good news fearlessly, or boldly. It was so important to him that he asks TWICE. It is that important.
So I too pray that this is what God wants me to do and I pray that I will go boldly....
Sad times and good memories
In the last few weeks, two of my friends have died. Two people, from very different parts of my life, under very different circumstances.
David Barnes, 82.
David lived next door while I was growing up. I must have seen him and his wife Brenda nearly everyday for the entire time I lived there (over 16 years). He had a massive impact on my life. He was a best friend to my father (an older brother even) and in many ways he took on board the role of a grandfather in my life. Our family spent so many great holidays at "The Patch", the home that he and Brenda had by the sea up on the North Norfolk coast. He taught me how to sail, shared a love of cars and motorcycles and we always knew we were safe when he was around. He told a great story and had the most amzing sense of humour. A Norfolk man through and through, he served in the Army Medical Corps in WW2, practised as a pharmacist and chiropodist and was a local councillor for many years. I have so many memories about him, that I would spend the rest of my life writing them down. I will always remember the strong man he was and his love of life. In the last few years he had suffered from Alzheimers disease and it was incredibly difficult (for Brenda especially) to watch such a great man deteriorate. I have missed him for many years and will continue to do so.
Phil Locke, 24.
Phil was tragically killed in an incident at work. I met him through my little sister and her group of friends. Little Phil, as I knew him, (stature not personality!) touched my life on many occasions in the six or so years I knew him. My most recent memory of him was during my time at Spring Harvest. I was away for Rach's birthday party, but when talking to her the next day, she told me how Phil had bought her two bottles of champagne to celebrate and make the event that extra bit special. That's what he brought to many occaisions, the icing on the cake. He was welcoming, funny and fearless; a man who turned up at the pub for a pint only hours after writing-off his motorcycle. 24 years may not seem long, but to those who know him he fitted a lot in. Following his death his parents invited us all to have a drink and it is a testament to the number of people he touched that around 80 of them turned up. For those who knew him, I feel sad for our loss, but for those who never had the opportunity to know him, I feel sadder.
We say that death is a part of life. Actually, death has become a part of life that we are forced to experience at some point. It was only recently that I learned that Man was not created to die. In the Christian understanding, we were created to live and enjoy a relationship with God. However, when Eve and Adam ate the apple of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, they died and from that day forth created a life-expectancy that was finite.
However you look at it death sucks. We lose loved ones and friends. The closer we are to those we lose, the harder it is. So many things are taken away from us and we feel so many things: Shock; anger; hurt; pain; sorrow; numb; denial. A gamut of emotions and a melting-pot of feelings. I've felt all of those and more with regard to the passing of both David and Phil. With David, I denied it for two days, with Phil, the absolute shock of its suddenness was what hit me first. With both though, after crying for their loss, I feel mostly numb, yet at every point where I remember how each touched my life - they still do - that's when the emotions rise up again; sometimes tears of sadness, sometimes tears of joy. Although we all deal with difficult situations (such as the death of a friend or a serious illness, etc) individually, the way in which men and women handle these things differently has become very apparent to me. In sharing this experience with other men, I've discovered that it's very male to be in denial and distance oneself from the emotions attached to loss - perhaps a basic defence mechanism for the traditional "protector".
In the aftermath, the one thing that really stands out is the support from the friends Rachel and I have made at work and at church. They've displayed a level of care, consideration, understanding and support that neither of us has experienced before. If any of you are reading this - you know who you are, and thank you, it means a lot.
In the face of death there have been many questions of what happens afterward and its been interesting hearing various perspectives and opinions: From a long sleep, to becoming an angel, to being raised with Jesus and residing in heaven. Whatever our personal beliefs, if we never let the memories die, then nor will the people we remember.
David Barnes, 82.
David lived next door while I was growing up. I must have seen him and his wife Brenda nearly everyday for the entire time I lived there (over 16 years). He had a massive impact on my life. He was a best friend to my father (an older brother even) and in many ways he took on board the role of a grandfather in my life. Our family spent so many great holidays at "The Patch", the home that he and Brenda had by the sea up on the North Norfolk coast. He taught me how to sail, shared a love of cars and motorcycles and we always knew we were safe when he was around. He told a great story and had the most amzing sense of humour. A Norfolk man through and through, he served in the Army Medical Corps in WW2, practised as a pharmacist and chiropodist and was a local councillor for many years. I have so many memories about him, that I would spend the rest of my life writing them down. I will always remember the strong man he was and his love of life. In the last few years he had suffered from Alzheimers disease and it was incredibly difficult (for Brenda especially) to watch such a great man deteriorate. I have missed him for many years and will continue to do so.
Phil Locke, 24.
Phil was tragically killed in an incident at work. I met him through my little sister and her group of friends. Little Phil, as I knew him, (stature not personality!) touched my life on many occasions in the six or so years I knew him. My most recent memory of him was during my time at Spring Harvest. I was away for Rach's birthday party, but when talking to her the next day, she told me how Phil had bought her two bottles of champagne to celebrate and make the event that extra bit special. That's what he brought to many occaisions, the icing on the cake. He was welcoming, funny and fearless; a man who turned up at the pub for a pint only hours after writing-off his motorcycle. 24 years may not seem long, but to those who know him he fitted a lot in. Following his death his parents invited us all to have a drink and it is a testament to the number of people he touched that around 80 of them turned up. For those who knew him, I feel sad for our loss, but for those who never had the opportunity to know him, I feel sadder.
We say that death is a part of life. Actually, death has become a part of life that we are forced to experience at some point. It was only recently that I learned that Man was not created to die. In the Christian understanding, we were created to live and enjoy a relationship with God. However, when Eve and Adam ate the apple of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, they died and from that day forth created a life-expectancy that was finite.
However you look at it death sucks. We lose loved ones and friends. The closer we are to those we lose, the harder it is. So many things are taken away from us and we feel so many things: Shock; anger; hurt; pain; sorrow; numb; denial. A gamut of emotions and a melting-pot of feelings. I've felt all of those and more with regard to the passing of both David and Phil. With David, I denied it for two days, with Phil, the absolute shock of its suddenness was what hit me first. With both though, after crying for their loss, I feel mostly numb, yet at every point where I remember how each touched my life - they still do - that's when the emotions rise up again; sometimes tears of sadness, sometimes tears of joy. Although we all deal with difficult situations (such as the death of a friend or a serious illness, etc) individually, the way in which men and women handle these things differently has become very apparent to me. In sharing this experience with other men, I've discovered that it's very male to be in denial and distance oneself from the emotions attached to loss - perhaps a basic defence mechanism for the traditional "protector".
In the aftermath, the one thing that really stands out is the support from the friends Rachel and I have made at work and at church. They've displayed a level of care, consideration, understanding and support that neither of us has experienced before. If any of you are reading this - you know who you are, and thank you, it means a lot.
In the face of death there have been many questions of what happens afterward and its been interesting hearing various perspectives and opinions: From a long sleep, to becoming an angel, to being raised with Jesus and residing in heaven. Whatever our personal beliefs, if we never let the memories die, then nor will the people we remember.
Tuesday, 20 May 2008
The sanctity of marriage
A couple of weeks ago I had the great privilege of being a Best Man. My best mate Sam at long last married his fiancee Katie and they had a fantastic wedding at the magnificent Horsted Place in East Sussex.
The day had all the best bits that it ought to - Katie was the stunning bride in a beautiful dress, the weather could not have been better, the food was outstanding and there were tears at the altar. I was lucky to be able to share the Best Man role with another of Sam's best mates (and mine) - Rob. Having been present at other weddings where the Best Man is wound up all the way until his speech is over, I was glad to share this great honour with Rob. We don't often see each other these days, but planning the speech and elements of the Stag Do brought us together and refreshed the bonds of friendship between us. It also meant that we were quite relaxed on the day and could enjoy such a special occaison properly.
Six old friends went to Tenerife together, "The Stag", "The Jackal", "The Bishop", "Peacey", "Wiseman" and "J.P." "Peacey, aka Keith, I've not seen for ten years. But all those ten years have done is age us a little. Other than that, it was like I hadn't seen him for a month. Still the quiet, laid-back, funny guy I've known.
We had great sun, good accommodation, fantastic food, a little too much beer, a lot of laughter and the comedy moments of the stag being forced to take an inflatable bride out on his last night of freedom. Not a cross word or moment of stress, the only soreness or pain we experienced was the sunburn. It was somewhat of a shame to come back (alhough I'm not missing being harassed into going into a particular bar or restaurant everywhere I go!)
Two weeks later, we'd grouped again for the wedding and were joined by those who were unable to make the Stag Do. Family and friends of Sam and Katie, congregating to watch them get married and celebrate their special day. And what a special day it was. I've never been to a civil marriage partnership before, but it was beautiful and tear-jerking. Katie's sister and Sam's cousin each gave a beautiful reading.
The most significant thing for me is that they chose to get married. In our current age where people choose to enter into long-term relationships but not marry, this decision stands out. Sam & Katie have been together for a number of years, but have still chosen to take this step of lifelong commitment. In a disposable, irresponsible society, they've publicly affirmed their love and commitment, taking responsibility for their relationship and one another. A loving couple, now husband and wife united, til death do them part. My friends, much respect and love goes out to you both.
S & K - it was an honour to be a part of your special day and to share in the celebrations of your marriage! Congratulations and thank you.
The day had all the best bits that it ought to - Katie was the stunning bride in a beautiful dress, the weather could not have been better, the food was outstanding and there were tears at the altar. I was lucky to be able to share the Best Man role with another of Sam's best mates (and mine) - Rob. Having been present at other weddings where the Best Man is wound up all the way until his speech is over, I was glad to share this great honour with Rob. We don't often see each other these days, but planning the speech and elements of the Stag Do brought us together and refreshed the bonds of friendship between us. It also meant that we were quite relaxed on the day and could enjoy such a special occaison properly.
Six old friends went to Tenerife together, "The Stag", "The Jackal", "The Bishop", "Peacey", "Wiseman" and "J.P." "Peacey, aka Keith, I've not seen for ten years. But all those ten years have done is age us a little. Other than that, it was like I hadn't seen him for a month. Still the quiet, laid-back, funny guy I've known.
We had great sun, good accommodation, fantastic food, a little too much beer, a lot of laughter and the comedy moments of the stag being forced to take an inflatable bride out on his last night of freedom. Not a cross word or moment of stress, the only soreness or pain we experienced was the sunburn. It was somewhat of a shame to come back (alhough I'm not missing being harassed into going into a particular bar or restaurant everywhere I go!)
Two weeks later, we'd grouped again for the wedding and were joined by those who were unable to make the Stag Do. Family and friends of Sam and Katie, congregating to watch them get married and celebrate their special day. And what a special day it was. I've never been to a civil marriage partnership before, but it was beautiful and tear-jerking. Katie's sister and Sam's cousin each gave a beautiful reading.
The most significant thing for me is that they chose to get married. In our current age where people choose to enter into long-term relationships but not marry, this decision stands out. Sam & Katie have been together for a number of years, but have still chosen to take this step of lifelong commitment. In a disposable, irresponsible society, they've publicly affirmed their love and commitment, taking responsibility for their relationship and one another. A loving couple, now husband and wife united, til death do them part. My friends, much respect and love goes out to you both.
S & K - it was an honour to be a part of your special day and to share in the celebrations of your marriage! Congratulations and thank you.
Monday, 19 May 2008
A leap of faith
A couple of weeks ago I went away on a "Mens' Weekend" with my church. It wasn't just for men within the church, but more of a get away for men from The Point and their male freinds.
It was a truly great time. An opportunity to build new relationships and create stronger bonds in current ones. I had gone with an open mind, knowing what the structure of the weekend was going to be, but I didn't really have any idea what might happen or how it might affect me.
We arrived and pitched our tents late on the Friday afternoon. One of the four teams we were grouped into prepared dinner and a fire was lit. Our first evening together was spent around the campfire listening to the personal testimony given by one of our congregation about his recent faith journey, followed by a campfire sing-a-long of some quality tunes.
Breakfast the next morning was prepared by another team and we were given a scriptural thought for the day to carry with us. My team's first activity was climbing. We were taught that the day would be about personal challenges, where we set the goals and the boundaries. Now I know I'm not Spiderman, but I soon discovered that my friends Paul, Jeremy and Chris, are. Straight to the top on all three sides of the tower - well done lads. For me, I figured that if I climbed higher than the dorma window of my house I'd be doing well. Not only did I manage this but I also fell off twice, which included a good swing round the side of the tower itself, culminating in a bruised and banged elbow. Following my injury and the fright that came with it, that was as far as I made it, but I was determined not to let my fear of falling ruin the rest of my day. The next activity was archery - great fun and a lot more sucessful for me personally. The only "competitive" activity of the day in which I believe our team came second and amazingly I still managed to leave the activity with a bruised arm! At lunch a few of us took a detour from the planned activity and went off the beaten track to find somewhere local where the Man U v Chelsea match was being played. With a number of supporters of both teams present on site there was a good deal of friendly rivalry - with both looking forward to a win! Sadly the detour became an adventure of its own - six pubs and 95% of the first half later, Andy and I finally managed to find a bar showing the match. Evidently football's not a popular sport in deepest West Sussex. It was time well spent getting to know Andy better, but sadly Chelsea on home turf won the day - we had little desire to return to the grinning faces of the Chelsea fans.
We returned in time for the last activity of the day and for my team the High Ropes. I have a fear of... I'm not sure what the fear is exactly, but I don't like climbing above a certain height. Now the High Ropes are just that. The first, about 9 feet above the ground was a round wooden beam - the objective; to walk across from one end to the other, then return to the middle, stand on one leg and be lowered down. This is an entirely safe activity, as with the Climbing, each participant is roped and secured with another two teammates feeding more or less rope as necessary, both ready to lower the climber if necessary. If you fall, the worst thing that can happen is that you swing in the air and perhaps bang into something. Jeremy, "The Human Fly", went first and demonstrated just how easy it was. When my time came, I found it a struggle, but with the encouragement of my friends I made it across, back to the middle, stood on one leg and came down. The next step was twice the height. Again, a beam between two trees, but after the ladder were a series of rungs hammered into the tree to climb up. At the top of the ladder I froze. Even the encouragement of my friends wasn't enough. Then the instructor started, "Our father..." As I continued The Lord's Prayer (out loud), I took a step per line and made it up the rungs and across the beam to the other side - all the time, my body tingling with nerves, but my focus aimed firmly at my destination. Then it was time to come down. This time, we had to lower ourselves onto the beam, straddle it and hang under the beam before being lowered. I made it back out to the middle of the beam and froze again. This time I just didn't know how to lower myself to the straddling position, without either falling, or causing myself intense pain and damage! Yet my team wouldn't let me come down in any other way, so I had to do it. So I dropped, arms and chest down... It happened so quickly I don't quite know how it happened, but the next thing I knew, I was hanging like a sloth, underneath the beam. I'd dropped and turned in one swift, slik motion - to a round of applause! I was chuffed and exhilarated. Then I was encouraged to let go with my arms and hang by just my legs. I managed that too - and it was much easier than I thought. In fact, I hung for what seemed like ages while Simon came back and took a picture. Once more safely on the ground, the hardest challenge of my day was yet to come.
The "Leap of Faith". A different task, a platform 30 feet up, 20+ feet worth of rungs in the tree above the ladder to reach it and then a jump. A jump to a trapeze suspended in mid-air. I waited until last, determined to do it. After my fall on the Climbling Tower, we'd walked back and watched some of our friends attempt this and I'd made it my complete personal challenge of the day to climb to the top and make the day. Also I'd discovered that my friend Rich (who also has a great fear of heights) had done it and this made me even more determined. Having manned the ropes for everyone else, they finally roped me up and I set to the ladder. I was the last man of the day and by this time, some of the other groups had finished and had gathered with us, so there was an even bigger crowd, yet the pressure I felt was from myself; I only felt even more encouraged by the presence and support of the others. Still, I was afraid. No-one had fallen, even slipped and none of my team had missed their jump. So I climbed and as I climbed I remembered that with God, we are always safe and He had helped me through the last one, so I knew he'd help me make it through this. As I climbed each step, the words of Matt Redman's song, "You never let go of me," ran through my head and I vocalised each one silently. Very, quickly, with no pausing, I was at the top and standing on the platform. My heart was pounding, but my legs were firm and I was ready - I needed to jump now! I asked for the trapeze to be moved toward me (I'm only a short guy!) and they counted me down. 10, 9, 8.. and I jumped! I caught the trapeze and hung there, while my friends applauded and cheered. I was elated and excited. I'd achieved my goal and was lowered to the ground. Everyone who did the High Ropes activity made the Leap of Faith.
The remainder of the day consisted of a huge-a-side game of footy, a great barbecue and a talk about Jesus from Will by the campfire. We shared stories of our adventures, the challenges, the achievements and the pains we'd gone through to get there. It was a great weekend and I experienced a lot. The events challenged me in unexpected ways. For example, when I gave my testimony to the group on the Friday night (yes, it was me, a surprise and last minute gift from my pastor) I had to think about my audience. I don't usually struggle with public speaking, but I was aware that I had a mixed group, of Christians and non-Christians. I wanted to convey the message that God had changed my life (& how) simply and without scaring anyone away (Spirituality and the whole "God-thing" used to make me run a mile). I hope I succeeded. Additionally, I was encouraged to recognise fear in my life and to confront and overcome it - this was a really important step for me. Prior to going, I didn't even completely know it was there but now I know I do, I've got to do something about it and look for other fears to overcome as well. I made new friendships and strengthened existing ones. I experienced encouragement and support in many different ways from people I know and people I don't. We shared with one another and we were open with one another, exposing our vulnerabilities and allowing and trusting others to help; it was a true experience of fellowship. But even more than this, I came to know God just a little bit more and trust Him to help me overcome my fears. The scriptural thought for the day on the Sunday after breakfast summed this up well for me: Ecclesiastes 4:9-12 Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work:
PS My thanks again to Trevor and those who organised sucha a great event.
It was a truly great time. An opportunity to build new relationships and create stronger bonds in current ones. I had gone with an open mind, knowing what the structure of the weekend was going to be, but I didn't really have any idea what might happen or how it might affect me.
We arrived and pitched our tents late on the Friday afternoon. One of the four teams we were grouped into prepared dinner and a fire was lit. Our first evening together was spent around the campfire listening to the personal testimony given by one of our congregation about his recent faith journey, followed by a campfire sing-a-long of some quality tunes.
Breakfast the next morning was prepared by another team and we were given a scriptural thought for the day to carry with us. My team's first activity was climbing. We were taught that the day would be about personal challenges, where we set the goals and the boundaries. Now I know I'm not Spiderman, but I soon discovered that my friends Paul, Jeremy and Chris, are. Straight to the top on all three sides of the tower - well done lads. For me, I figured that if I climbed higher than the dorma window of my house I'd be doing well. Not only did I manage this but I also fell off twice, which included a good swing round the side of the tower itself, culminating in a bruised and banged elbow. Following my injury and the fright that came with it, that was as far as I made it, but I was determined not to let my fear of falling ruin the rest of my day. The next activity was archery - great fun and a lot more sucessful for me personally. The only "competitive" activity of the day in which I believe our team came second and amazingly I still managed to leave the activity with a bruised arm! At lunch a few of us took a detour from the planned activity and went off the beaten track to find somewhere local where the Man U v Chelsea match was being played. With a number of supporters of both teams present on site there was a good deal of friendly rivalry - with both looking forward to a win! Sadly the detour became an adventure of its own - six pubs and 95% of the first half later, Andy and I finally managed to find a bar showing the match. Evidently football's not a popular sport in deepest West Sussex. It was time well spent getting to know Andy better, but sadly Chelsea on home turf won the day - we had little desire to return to the grinning faces of the Chelsea fans.
We returned in time for the last activity of the day and for my team the High Ropes. I have a fear of... I'm not sure what the fear is exactly, but I don't like climbing above a certain height. Now the High Ropes are just that. The first, about 9 feet above the ground was a round wooden beam - the objective; to walk across from one end to the other, then return to the middle, stand on one leg and be lowered down. This is an entirely safe activity, as with the Climbing, each participant is roped and secured with another two teammates feeding more or less rope as necessary, both ready to lower the climber if necessary. If you fall, the worst thing that can happen is that you swing in the air and perhaps bang into something. Jeremy, "The Human Fly", went first and demonstrated just how easy it was. When my time came, I found it a struggle, but with the encouragement of my friends I made it across, back to the middle, stood on one leg and came down. The next step was twice the height. Again, a beam between two trees, but after the ladder were a series of rungs hammered into the tree to climb up. At the top of the ladder I froze. Even the encouragement of my friends wasn't enough. Then the instructor started, "Our father..." As I continued The Lord's Prayer (out loud), I took a step per line and made it up the rungs and across the beam to the other side - all the time, my body tingling with nerves, but my focus aimed firmly at my destination. Then it was time to come down. This time, we had to lower ourselves onto the beam, straddle it and hang under the beam before being lowered. I made it back out to the middle of the beam and froze again. This time I just didn't know how to lower myself to the straddling position, without either falling, or causing myself intense pain and damage! Yet my team wouldn't let me come down in any other way, so I had to do it. So I dropped, arms and chest down... It happened so quickly I don't quite know how it happened, but the next thing I knew, I was hanging like a sloth, underneath the beam. I'd dropped and turned in one swift, slik motion - to a round of applause! I was chuffed and exhilarated. Then I was encouraged to let go with my arms and hang by just my legs. I managed that too - and it was much easier than I thought. In fact, I hung for what seemed like ages while Simon came back and took a picture. Once more safely on the ground, the hardest challenge of my day was yet to come.
The "Leap of Faith". A different task, a platform 30 feet up, 20+ feet worth of rungs in the tree above the ladder to reach it and then a jump. A jump to a trapeze suspended in mid-air. I waited until last, determined to do it. After my fall on the Climbling Tower, we'd walked back and watched some of our friends attempt this and I'd made it my complete personal challenge of the day to climb to the top and make the day. Also I'd discovered that my friend Rich (who also has a great fear of heights) had done it and this made me even more determined. Having manned the ropes for everyone else, they finally roped me up and I set to the ladder. I was the last man of the day and by this time, some of the other groups had finished and had gathered with us, so there was an even bigger crowd, yet the pressure I felt was from myself; I only felt even more encouraged by the presence and support of the others. Still, I was afraid. No-one had fallen, even slipped and none of my team had missed their jump. So I climbed and as I climbed I remembered that with God, we are always safe and He had helped me through the last one, so I knew he'd help me make it through this. As I climbed each step, the words of Matt Redman's song, "You never let go of me," ran through my head and I vocalised each one silently. Very, quickly, with no pausing, I was at the top and standing on the platform. My heart was pounding, but my legs were firm and I was ready - I needed to jump now! I asked for the trapeze to be moved toward me (I'm only a short guy!) and they counted me down. 10, 9, 8.. and I jumped! I caught the trapeze and hung there, while my friends applauded and cheered. I was elated and excited. I'd achieved my goal and was lowered to the ground. Everyone who did the High Ropes activity made the Leap of Faith.
The remainder of the day consisted of a huge-a-side game of footy, a great barbecue and a talk about Jesus from Will by the campfire. We shared stories of our adventures, the challenges, the achievements and the pains we'd gone through to get there. It was a great weekend and I experienced a lot. The events challenged me in unexpected ways. For example, when I gave my testimony to the group on the Friday night (yes, it was me, a surprise and last minute gift from my pastor) I had to think about my audience. I don't usually struggle with public speaking, but I was aware that I had a mixed group, of Christians and non-Christians. I wanted to convey the message that God had changed my life (& how) simply and without scaring anyone away (Spirituality and the whole "God-thing" used to make me run a mile). I hope I succeeded. Additionally, I was encouraged to recognise fear in my life and to confront and overcome it - this was a really important step for me. Prior to going, I didn't even completely know it was there but now I know I do, I've got to do something about it and look for other fears to overcome as well. I made new friendships and strengthened existing ones. I experienced encouragement and support in many different ways from people I know and people I don't. We shared with one another and we were open with one another, exposing our vulnerabilities and allowing and trusting others to help; it was a true experience of fellowship. But even more than this, I came to know God just a little bit more and trust Him to help me overcome my fears. The scriptural thought for the day on the Sunday after breakfast summed this up well for me: Ecclesiastes 4:9-12 Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work:
If one falls down, his friend can help him up.
But pity the man who falls
and has no one to help him up!
Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm.
But how can one keep warm alone?
Though one may be overpowered,
two can defend themselves.
A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.
PS My thanks again to Trevor and those who organised sucha a great event.
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