Not even nearly...

 

Hello all. I hope you are well. At least it's not raining. It's sunny in Plymouth. Freezing - but sunny. I am recovering from a Messy Church Saturday. I was on quite a quiet craft table this week because the children decorated biscuits with sweets. I suppose you would struggle to make a spiritual connection with this week's story of Samuel being called by God in the middle of the night but maybe I'm missing a trick somewhere. However, the children loved it and if some biscuits were only decorated with the barest minimum of jelly tots because the rest had been snaffled I don't think anyone was that bothered. 

Other than that, it's been a small quiet week. I quite like small quiet weeks. Having had a few large, noisy weeks recently, this will do nicely.

I've been reading the Eugene Peterson biography "A Burning in My Bones". Eugene Peterson is the man who "wrote" The Message. A highly influential (at least with me) version of the Bible which leans heavily into the poetic. If you can't really see yourself reading The Bible, you could take a look at the Message. It's certainly not what you might think the Bible is like. (No one talks like they are in Wolf Hall). I personally am at a stage in my life where I may be reading or listening to an older version, then think, I wonder how The Message puts that? It's good. That is all. 

You are probably going to ask if I would recommend the biography. Er... well some bits certainly left me thinking, as you may see below if you stick with this but there's a lot about "Giants of the Faith" that I had never heard of and "Intellectuals in Seminary". If you are more educated than I am you may find those parts riveting. Me - not so much. I blame my young self. Too much time watching The Persuaders and not enough learning Latin and Greek. That is one thing that I did learn though, that the Message translation comes directly from "The Greek" so maybe has more spiritual weight to it than some people would have you believe. Peterson was an impressive person. An intellectual giant, a visionary and a top-class athlete. He even came second to Sir Roger Bannister in a race once. (Just to clarify, as we all know, I could come second to Sir Roger Bannister so long as there were only two of us in the race and people didn't mind going and getting a light lunch or something while they were waiting for me to finish. But apparently, this was a proper second - even though he was forty yards behind.)

The book is an authorised version so it is to Peterson's credit that it does not avoid his weaknesses such as relying too much on the booze and sometimes getting too close to women in his congregation. The book also looks at his approach to being a pastor. He felt that he was called to be with people, to live with them to talk to them and share their lives. This was contrary to the received wisdom of the time that pastors stood in pulpits and dispensed wisdom from on high. You pays your money and you takes your choice as to what kind of leader you prefer (as long as that money isn't going to buy a private jet for the preacher - can't say I am too struck on that idea). The thing was though, that Peterson spent every waking moment serving his congregation and therefore who didn't feel served? Yep, you at the back, you've got it. His family. One son needed therapy to get past the coldness and emotional distance he felt from his undoubtedly loving father. 

Victoria Wood used a line once

"Mum - do you love me?"

"I don't think I knew what love was until I bred my first Afghan."

We are not always getting everything right. We are multi-faceted and a lot of those facets are a bit crappy. Peterson had been affected by an emotionally distant father and some of that he continued to the next generation. But, a lot of it he didn't. As he got older, they spent more time together and things became easier. When he died, his loving family were bereft. 

One of the things that Grace is supposed to do is maybe make us a bit gentler on those we live our lives with but also on ourselves. No one is getting it all right - despite what those women in the Instagram stories tell you. (Look at my lovely home, family, cat, legs...you too can have this for £25 a month to my personal current account). Life is wobbly. We are wobbly. I'm not even nearly getting it right. We need to give ourselves a break. Have a good week.  

Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.

Matthew 10 (Not the Message! I think this is better in the NIV. Sorry)