sustain:if:able kiwi

the white stones of spiritual protection

The ancient Celtic Christians used to place stones in a circle, to claim the protection of God. And for me personally, to step inside a circle of white stones is an immensely powerful experience. I have no idea why, but lay them in a circle, step inside them, and I feel the embrace of God.

I use white stones, because it links me with Revelation 2:17, where those who overcome are given a white stone. White speaks of purity and so to stand in the stones is, for me, to make a commitment to live ethically before Christ.

So I today, in the midst of a pastoral encounter, I laid out the white stones and stepped inside. Feeling weird, but experiencing yet again the physical presence of God.

blockages

We awoke this morning to find our toilet blocked. With the personal plumbing of 2 adults and 2 children at morning bursting point, we called the plumber. You probably don’t want the details, so let me just say
Praise God for plumbers.

headspace

My head is full —- job reviews, exam marking, writing deadlines, conflict resolution, pastoral matters, speaking here and there.

The saviours are the headspaces —-
: the gutter, sunlit and warm, waiting for a bus
: the cafe, Groove Armada tunes and clear metal table, space to de-clutter and re-read.

The deadlines remain, the tasks tug at my sleeve, —–
but changing the space changes the headspace.

Is church/spirituality/this season a clear headspace or a cluttered tug at the sleeve?

hugging the lampost

i am in one of the busiest pieces of time i can remember. one thing after the other. not super stressed, but constant. trying to juggle, trying to remain centred. i have heaps to process. heaps to talk about. and normally the blog is a space to do this.

but not today. i don’t seem to have the space to do that. i trust you understand. any spare time i am trying to spend walking with my two year. yesterday she gave me a purple flower, hugged a lamp-post and raced me to the corner.

everyday spirituality of ironing

One of the neat things about ironing,
is the chance to pray for those who wear the clothes,
in a whole range of life and work situations.

why are ministers important

OK. So the guest preacher gets up to speak. Good friend, so no bagging him.

He challenges the church to pray for me every day. “Steve would not ask you to do this, but I want you think about praying for him every day.”

He’s damn right Steve would never ask that. Why me? What about the person next to me, who cleans tables. Why not pray for him every day? Why is the church, the minister, more important than anyone else.

I’ll take my share of prayer, but surely this is just a pedestalising that denies the importance of the Kingdom, of life spent in Incarnational mission in the world God loves.

endings and beginnings

it is finished. the end of semester. the end of my first year of lecturing at Bible College of New Zealand. no need for preparation until February 23. it’s been a hell semester, way overloaded. my desk is a mess, my brain is fried and my notes lie in messy piles.

time to repile.

time to speak, three times in Auckland next week.

time to write; an article on place and theology (the foreshore and seabed issue), on globalisation and alternative worship, on contemporary mission images. and if i go well,

time to work up a second book proposal.

dislocation

I have slept in 5 different beds in the last 5 nights. I find this a profoundly disorientating experience.

Place is not just environment. Place is the familiarity of routine.

spiritual spaces

I sat at Te Papa on Saturday. I was surrounded by 5 metre high panels, including a beautiful en-glassed image of the Treaty of Waitangi.

It was a space both spacious and enclosed.
It was a space to think.
It was a spiritual space.

gone

i am off … a weekend with my wife in Wellington. The Church Board said I was working too hard and ordered a weekend off.

I hear and obey…. coffee … Te Papa … movies ….. tee he…

ironies of displacement

Mark emailed last week, wanting to use my re-reading the prodigal son sermon. He’s leading graceway, the church I planted.

It was very wierd sense of convergence; I’ve moved from Graceway – postmodern, cafe style, thinking, smaller – to a more “normal,” more “institutional” church. A prodigal sermon I weave in one (Opawa) place is requested in the other (Graceway) space.

A lot of emerging church blog-rhetoric speaks against the traditional, the institutional, the attractional. It’s a useful rhetorical device, but I increasingly suspect its an artificially crap division. And Mark’s request added to my growing conviction.

And it was a very nice sense of personally authentic linkage, that I am being me despite a changing context and that I can still bless a group of people very important to me.

the day I left my wife

Today I fly to Auckland. It’s our 14th wedding anniversary. I know where I’d rather be tonite (and no offense to any Aucklander’s who read this blog.)

I brought Lynne a salad dressing – honey mustard and macademia flavour, (along with flowers and lunch). It seemed an appropriate way to honour someone who brings
spice
warmth
humanity
into my life.

prayers please

I am speaking 6 times over the next 6 days; Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday on the future of the church in Christchurch, then flying to Auckland to speak (with greenflame) Thursday, Friday, Saturday on theology and real life.

It is part of Kingdom Builders, a national conference. All this is on top of a significant pastoral crisis and a some book editing pressures.

I’m feeling a bit pressured and would be glad if you could hold me before God.

am I an unspiritual pastor?

I fear I am unspiritual. You see, I have some pastor friends. Before they speak, they get up early and pray.

I don’t. I try to get a good night’s sleep. Another pastor friend I know even goes so far as to ask people they speak to, to prepare prior, by fasting. I don’t. I am not nearly this spiritual. In fact, here’s my unspiritual thinking.

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