When I was a schools’ worker, I used to put on an annual meal for Christian teachers from the education borough where I worked. They came from around twenty schools in the local area. Even though term time is busy, and evenings are precious, most of them made the effort to come. Why? Because it was an opportunity to meet with other Christians who uniquely understood the situation they were in. (There was always very good cake as well!)
Do you know any Christian teachers? (Or classroom assistants, school administrators, playground supervisors…) For some, this is the start of a new term – but whether it is or not, here are a few suggestions for how you could pray for them this week:... continue reading
I don't think I've ever heard anyone ask the question. It's not the kind of thing we tend to talk about. But, for some of us at least, it's a significant issue. How should we, as Christians, respond to being left an inheritance?
Whether the sum is large or small it can open up a whole can of worms in our minds. Of course, it's great to have a bank balance that is fuller than normal. But the money is only there because a loved one has died. Somehow it feels wrong to enjoy it. But the person who left it to us wanted us to benefit from it and we certainly can't ignore it. There are decisions to be made and, for Christians, they need to be made in a godly way.
So how can Christians respond to being left an inheritance? Here are our top tips.... continue reading
There are likely to be carers in your congregation – among those who are fully integrated or those on the periphery. Some will be coping. Some wont. Here are our top 6 tips on supporting those who care for others.
Pray
In your services, on your notice-sheets, in your own personal quiet times pray for the physical, emotional and spiritual perseverance of those who care. Ask them for their own specific pray requests too.... continue reading
My middle daughter has got me into Manga - and I'm loving it.
It started for her when we watched a TV series called Naruto together and went on from there to the wonderful anime stories produced by Studio Gibli. I have just finished reading a massive series that is wildly popular among Manga readers, called Deathnote - and it blew away all my preconceptions about how this medium works, and the kinds of ideas that it can communicate.
Originally, I had thought that Manga - a style of comic book that originated in Japan, but has been picked up and copied around the world - was filled with stock characters and lame stories. How wrong could I be. Turns out there are several different kinds of Manga - shojo is aimed at girls, shonen at boys, which tends to have darker themes and more violent plotlines. Deathnote is definitely the latter.... continue reading
I was 13 when my Nan moved in. I loved my Nan. She was absolutely wonderful in every way. And what’s more she looked like Nans should: slightly plump, white wavy hair, rosy cheeks and a big smile. She spent her time doing what Nan’s (of her era) should: talking about the war, eating boiled sweets and sewing. She had an uncanny ability to make pretty much anything out of scraps of material. And I mean anything … When she had some fingers amputated and was told she was too old for prosthetics she simply went to her “rag bag”, dug out some leatherette, some old tights and some ribbon and made herself some fingers that she could tie on each morning. Best - Nan - ever!... continue reading
It really is a privilege to care for those who struggle. To show God’s love to friends and family in their hour of need is a wonderful thing. But anyone who has been a carer for more than a few days knows that a sense of privilege isn’t always the dominant feeling. There’s a whole range of other emotions that swirl around too. What struggles do carers face? Here are just a few:
60% of us will be a carer at some point in our life. 10% of us are right now. There are some 7 million carers in the UK - 13,000 of whom are under 18. Wikipedia suggests 50 million in the US. It sounds a lot but those stats could well be right. There are millions of people quietly undertaking vital roles within our families, within our communities, often at the expense of career and other relationships.
A carer is someone who provides unpaid support to an ill or disabled friend or relative who would not be able to cope without their help. The role ranges from popping to see a neighbour a couple of times a day with shopping and a willingness to help them dress to full-time care for a loved-one with multiple and profound physical or mental needs. It could be tending to the complex requirements of a spouse who has suffered a severe stroke or making safe a parent with advanced Alzheimer’s Disease.
Many carers are themselves elderly or frail but not all. For some children the daily routine involves making breakfast for an incapacitated parent before leaving for school – then coming home with the shopping to make them dinner. For a few it involves mopping up the less than sanitary consequences of substance abuse in the home – disposing of bottles and needles, dialing 999 when the worst happens …
The permutations are limitless. But in every story there is some common ground – there is pain, pain that at times masks the privilege that it is to stand alongside those who suffer. This week on The Good Book Blog we are going to look at how churches can care for the carers in their congregation.
There were rumours and speculation aplenty. Those who had read the signs of the times knew that there was an unfinished storyline - that someone new was coming - someone who would put things right and rescue humanity from its darkest danger.
But who? Would he be young or old? Would he come as a peaceful compassionate lover of souls? Or would he be an avenging conqueror? And then to everyone's surprise the day of the great revelation came...
Not a bumbling do-gooder, but a serious, dangerous-looking man with hard eyes would be playing the new Doctor Who.
Who did you think I was talking about?
The new Doctor, it was announced on live TV last Sunday night, will be 55-year old Scottish actor, Peter Capaldi - best known for his recent role in in the award-winning In the Thick of it where he played a foul-mouthed government spin doctor. The acting range he brought to that role - passionate and venomous outbursts of anger, and an ability to portray vein-throbbing rage will give new impetus to the scriptwriters for the next series.
But, beneath the veneer of looks and personality quirks, the doctor remains the same deep down. A penetrating understanding of people and situations; burningly passionate about protecting humankind; desperately wanting to redeem even the worst of his enemies; offering mercy but unleashing uncompromising justice on those who refuse his mercy.
Perhaps what makes this show so timeless and watchable is how the Doctor reflects so many qualities that we see in a saviour who is far from fictional.
I was reminded this morning of one of our set texts at school—Charles Dickens’ David Copperfield. In particular of Barkis, the local cart driver. Specifically of the minimalist way he proposes to Peggotty, the Copperfield family’s servant. Barkis got the young David to take the message:
"Tell her, 'Barkis is willin'!' Just so."
What a romantic he was.
It’s 40 years since I read David Copperfield, but “Barkis is willin’” has stuck tenaciously in my mind. And it came back to me this morning as I wondered about that word “willing”. It struck me that, although it can sound conditional, it’s really a statement of intent. Like the bride who says: “I will”. So I looked it up in Collins English Dictionary:... continue reading
At the end of Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus tells eleven men to “go and make disciples of all nations” (28 v 19). But who was he talking to?
I’ve heard and read several times over the years that this “Great Commission” was:
The rest of us are called to live distinctive lives, and answer people’s questions (1 Peter 3 v 15); but we’re called only to be reactive (waiting for the question to come), rather than proactive (aiming to talk about Jesus).... continue reading