September tends to be a reflective and somewhat melancholy month for Ronnie and me, and no, it has nothing to do with a certain football match coming up this Saturday afternoon. September is the month where we both lost our dads and of course it just happens that Father’s Day comes around each September. So there are times during this month that we might just have a quiet moment or six to remember.
For our local church the past couple of September weekends have been busy as we celebrated two Sundays back the anniversary of our moving into new premises and last weekend we enjoyed hosting our fourth annual Ladies Day. For me anyway, probably connected to my September mood, these occasions gave cause for reflection on how our journey has gone thus far. It is always good to see new people connecting with us along the way and this year has been no different; but it has also been a year where we have probably had more drifting off than ever before.
This morning I was reading through the sixth chapter of John and particularly spent some time considering verses 60 – 69. I was initially struck with the words in verse 6: “This teaching is difficult who can accept it?” I like the fact that Jesus asks a good question when he hears the grizzling of his followers – ‘”Does this offend you? Then what if you were to see the Son of Man ascending to where he was before? It is the Spirit that gives life; the flesh is useless.”’
As one who is trying to age graciously, let me give you who are younger a heads up on Jesus’ theory about the flesh; he’s right! The flesh is useless. This is really funny when you consider the amount of stuff being pedaled these days – male and female – to keep that old flesh young, tight and glowing.
I still remember the time I had been asked to support a family for the viewing of their dad who had died at a good old age. The classic line will live with me forever as one member looked at dad in the coffin and said, ‘He looks well doesn’t he?’ Now, the funeral director had done a fine job in exercising his skills and many words might have been used to describe the deceased at that time; but well was not one of them. He was not well, he was dead and the flesh really was useless.
Perhaps we prefer the Botox Jesus? The occasional injection to keep us in shape and all will be well. A gentleman chastised me once for preaching about the Passion (suffering and death) of Jesus on Palm Sunday. He came along wanting the donkey, the palm branches and the hallelujahs and the minister stuffed it up by talking about the cross a week early! A quick injection of the jollies is what we need Pastor.
Following Jesus is not meant to be a misery trail but it is not meant to be a fairy tale either! Jesus said that he came to bring life and life in abundance. For me these words conjure up thoughts of substance, depth, hope, strength and joy. These are gutsy solid words, something that you can build life on – a rock maybe?
what if you were to see the Son of Man ascending to where he was before? It is the Spirit that gives life; the flesh is useless.”’
The invitation from Jesus is to enter into a new / old form of life. Christianity is for me the only faith that actually provides answers that make sense. In all honesty we know that we are ‘fallen’ people. No matter where we stand, there is something within the human psyche that says there is something about us that is better than what we are right now. The coming of Jesus is the door through which we can walk to discover a way of life that faces the garbage and hurt and yet strengthens us to go on. If it doesn’t it’s Botox.
But ‘The teaching is difficult’ and as we read in John 6:66: ‘Because of this many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him.’ I personally like the image of the Son of Man ascending to where he was before. The disciples that remained with Jesus did see that (Acts 1:6-11) and I wouldn’t mind a look either!
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Age shall not weary them
It is late Wednesday afternoon and slowly the bruising is fading and I am sure that the pain in my left knee and lower back will eventually recede to something approaching a dull roar. You never know, perhaps the old bloke might one day concede that he is an old bloke and stop pretending that he is still in his mid 20’s!
There should be a support group for people like me. A place where I could confess with my peers, that, ‘My name is John, and I am a football addict!’ Oh yes, I do love my Collingwood AFL team and as Manly are as hated in New South Wales as my beloved Magpies in Victoria, it is only appropriate that I support the Sea Eagle in NRL; but the round ball is and always has been my first love (in football that is!).
It was a lovely afternoon on Sunday for our church birthday picnic at Fagan’s Park and as is normal for our mob, there were as many kids as there were adults with cricket and soccer clearly on the agenda. Now, Brendan will try to say that it was an accident and that his feet just clipped mine as we fought for the ball; but the incident deserved a red card and my fall deserved several freeze frame replays as well as a Gold Medal. On the tenth anniversary of the Sydney Olympics, I deserved a 9.9 for my triple somersault with half twist and pike on the run.
A few weeks back I was informed that my old soccer club, Ballarat, a long time member of the Victorian Soccer Federation had chosen their top 100 players of all times and that one John Thornton who played between 1972 and 1978 had been honoured among that number. I played for three other senior clubs in my time but those years with Ballarat were easily the most enjoyable of my sporting life. We played a high standard of football and generally the people were of a similar calibre. They were really good days and those times summed up why I hardly see a soccer match from one year to the next. It’s just not the same unless you are in the game. I’m a lousy spectator.
In the Book of Hebrews we read: ‘And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the day approaching.’ Hebrews 10:24, 25
When I began to attend a local church on a regular basis in 1983, I was not going there to learn about Jesus, though I did learnt a lot about Jesus. I was not going along to sing my favourite songs as I didn’t really know any. I was not attending to hear inspiring messages, though I did get to hear a lot of those! Initially I went because I promised the God that I wasn’t completely sure I believed in that I would go; but I stayed because I felt my life being restored. Bit by bit.
Church for me has never been something that I attend as much as it has been my life blood. I loved the camaraderie of a sporting club, but the company of the saints beats it comprehensively. Sunday worship is the pinnacle of my week and now that I have the privilege of leading a congregation the mountain has just grown a little higher. I know people who say that they live out their Christian life and don’t need to attend church. Of course you can and I feel dreadfully sorry for you as you are content with the appetiser and so often miss the main course and sweets.
Yes, the church will let you down from time to time and if you commit to a group of people you are going to get hurt occasionally. It is all true. But among all of the dross for some strange and wonderful reason, God loves to be among his gathered people just doing all kinds of good stuff. Over the past two Sundays in particular, I have been blessed by simply being in the company of the saints. I love it.
I was approached to sign for the Ballarat Soccer Club several years before I eventually chose to join in 1972. I was enjoying being a big fish in a small pond with another club. Playing at a level that immediately stretched me and lifted me was the best thing I ever did. I wish I had joined years earlier when the opportunity was first offered. I feel a bit the same way about my late commitment to the church; but I’m still glad I signed on when I did.
There should be a support group for people like me. A place where I could confess with my peers, that, ‘My name is John, and I am a football addict!’ Oh yes, I do love my Collingwood AFL team and as Manly are as hated in New South Wales as my beloved Magpies in Victoria, it is only appropriate that I support the Sea Eagle in NRL; but the round ball is and always has been my first love (in football that is!).
It was a lovely afternoon on Sunday for our church birthday picnic at Fagan’s Park and as is normal for our mob, there were as many kids as there were adults with cricket and soccer clearly on the agenda. Now, Brendan will try to say that it was an accident and that his feet just clipped mine as we fought for the ball; but the incident deserved a red card and my fall deserved several freeze frame replays as well as a Gold Medal. On the tenth anniversary of the Sydney Olympics, I deserved a 9.9 for my triple somersault with half twist and pike on the run.
A few weeks back I was informed that my old soccer club, Ballarat, a long time member of the Victorian Soccer Federation had chosen their top 100 players of all times and that one John Thornton who played between 1972 and 1978 had been honoured among that number. I played for three other senior clubs in my time but those years with Ballarat were easily the most enjoyable of my sporting life. We played a high standard of football and generally the people were of a similar calibre. They were really good days and those times summed up why I hardly see a soccer match from one year to the next. It’s just not the same unless you are in the game. I’m a lousy spectator.
In the Book of Hebrews we read: ‘And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the day approaching.’ Hebrews 10:24, 25
When I began to attend a local church on a regular basis in 1983, I was not going there to learn about Jesus, though I did learnt a lot about Jesus. I was not going along to sing my favourite songs as I didn’t really know any. I was not attending to hear inspiring messages, though I did get to hear a lot of those! Initially I went because I promised the God that I wasn’t completely sure I believed in that I would go; but I stayed because I felt my life being restored. Bit by bit.
Church for me has never been something that I attend as much as it has been my life blood. I loved the camaraderie of a sporting club, but the company of the saints beats it comprehensively. Sunday worship is the pinnacle of my week and now that I have the privilege of leading a congregation the mountain has just grown a little higher. I know people who say that they live out their Christian life and don’t need to attend church. Of course you can and I feel dreadfully sorry for you as you are content with the appetiser and so often miss the main course and sweets.
Yes, the church will let you down from time to time and if you commit to a group of people you are going to get hurt occasionally. It is all true. But among all of the dross for some strange and wonderful reason, God loves to be among his gathered people just doing all kinds of good stuff. Over the past two Sundays in particular, I have been blessed by simply being in the company of the saints. I love it.
I was approached to sign for the Ballarat Soccer Club several years before I eventually chose to join in 1972. I was enjoying being a big fish in a small pond with another club. Playing at a level that immediately stretched me and lifted me was the best thing I ever did. I wish I had joined years earlier when the opportunity was first offered. I feel a bit the same way about my late commitment to the church; but I’m still glad I signed on when I did.
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