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Showing posts from September, 2020

Dipping or drowning

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They were baptised (1:6)  I felt an urgent need to pray. So I went gardening. Some of you will be nodding in understanding. Others will be going, Huh. For me, as for many, prayer needs focus. And gardening gives me something to focus on. My current garden job is scarifying the lawn, or possibly raking - you lawn boffins will know which. This involves raking a sprung tined fork over the grass to remove moss and thatch. It's a surprising satisfying job, requiring lots of effort and producing weirdly large amounts of, you guessed it, moss and thatch. As I scarified I found myself praying, 'Lord, scarify your church. Rake out all that is not of you so that your people can grow'. This prayer lasted many rows. As I reached the last row, I sensed a question, 'What will you do? If it is best for my church that you leave now, will you go?' 'Now, Lord, are you sure?' 'Yes, now' 'Okay, if that's what's best for the church, I'll go now'. Imme

In the wilderness

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The whole Judæan countryside and all the people of Jerusalem went out to him (1:5)  Many years ago, I visited Judæa. We drove through the barren emptiness of the Judæan wilderness until we entered the sprawling suburbs of Jerusalem. The contrast was quite dramatic. From wasteland to fertile garden, from emptiness to thriving throng. Somehow John's message was attractive to both. Very attractive. All the people went out to him, the whole of the countryside. Even allowing for some poetic license, there must have been crowds. Today our churches are at risk of falling well short of that appeal. The grand buildings attract the rich, the wild worship attracts the young, the beautiful music attracts the erudite. What are we getting wrong? John's message was a very simple one, repent and be forgiven. John's auditorium was a very open one, the wilderness. John's appearance was a very unique one, wild and free. When being inside is a risk, when listening to the news confuses, whe

Say sorry

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A baptism of repentance (1:4)  As I chatted to my friend the conversation got onto our children and she asked a perfectly simple question: how is Caleb getting on at school? I told her that the school were doing a good job but their efforts could not compensate for Caleb's lack of peers. 'Either' I explained, 'the children are damaged at birth, often leaving them physically affected and with language problems, or they are autistic and quite bright. There are very few children with Down Syndrome because they are all killed before they are born'.  And now as I sit over my coffee it has struck me again. My son has no friends because this country has killed them all. My government have conspired with certain medical interests to eliminate all his peers. He will spend a lifetime alone and isolated because we have allowed his kind to be decimated for our comfort. And as I sit here the weight of it floods over me. The deep sorrow, the sadness for my son, the empty hardness