On worshipping together

Churches often gather people from different ages under one roof, but the extent to which they are genuinely engaged in worship together is open to question. In 32 years of ministry I have lost count of the number of occasions on which I have failed to truly bring the ages together in worship. That being so, yesterday morning’s service, on the third Sunday of Advent, was particularly special.

The service began with a welcome. the lighting of the advent candles and a lively song. The very simple script which you can find here was then enacted by the children. At the close of the talk, people of all ages were invited to contribute by writing or drawing on a star, which they then added to a  simple background of a night sky at the front of church. On the star, each person was to draw, or write what they might give to the baby Jesus. Since the innkeeper had given a bed, the wise men had given their gifts, and Mary and Joseph had given their love – what might they bring?

With some gentle Christmas music on in the background, I waited to see if people would join in. At first it was just a couple of children towing reluctant parents to the front. After that came a trickle, and then a flood as people kept leaving their seats and adding their stars to the night sky. The hardest part was reading them out afterwards – everything from ‘a kiss’ or ‘cake’ to ‘my today, tomorrow and every single day. You can see some further examples below.

Please enjoy them, and please feel free to steal the idea for yourselves!

All the way from Nepal

I have been collecting nativity sets for many years now. I have them in all shapes and sizes, made from all kinds of materials. I have them from Germany, Peru, France, India and other countries too.  Last year, Magnet magazine ran an article all about the collection.

When I travelled to Nepal earlier this year, I really hoped to bring one back with me. Sadly, I was unable to find one – and bought a two-dimensional batik of the nativity scene instead.

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Initially, I was disappointed that this was all I could find. However, when I got it home and unrolled it to take a proper look, I noticed one very important detail. Look in the bottom right-hand corner and you will see that the angel is hugging the shepherd. Can you see?

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I was surprised by this, as I had never seen it in any other depiction of the nativity scene. However, a Nepali visitor to my home a couple of weeks ago brought some light to bear.  She explained that, in her homeland, whenever the Christmas story is enacted, great emphasis is placed on the angels telling the shepherds not to be afraid.

What a lovely thing, to depict such a message with a hug, don’t you think?

The launch of the Fiona Fund

My landscape right now is littered with milestones. They are all marked in years, rather than miles, and they bear the number ‘1’. Each one is a reminder of a year past without my wife and best friend by my side. I miss her more than I can say, and her absence is felt keenly every single day.

In years gone by, we would often walk together by the sea – and Fiona loved nothing more than to gaze at its rolling waves and its ever changing landscape. We always appreciated those who had donated benches in memory of a loved one, as they allowed us to enjoy the view. She was adamant, though, that she did not want to be remembered in such a way. ‘I don’t want people sitting on me’.

Bearing that in mind, we have found a more enduring way to remember her. Throughout her working life, Fiona was an information professional.  A friend described her as someone ‘who dedicated her life to empowering others to be the best that they could be’. This was never more true than when working as a healthcare librarian at St George’s University Library.  In her last years, when hospital visits became both more frequent and more intrusive, it would give her the most tremendous lift to encounter some of ‘her’ students, who had passed through her hands whilst studying for their profession.  Training and knowledge were as much weapons against cancer as hypodermics and scalpels, so far as Fiona was concerned. Remembering this, the Fiona Fund was born.

Each year the Fund will make the Fiona Littledale Award in association with the Patient Experience Network to an oncology nurse who has already demonstrated their personal commitment to developing their skills and understanding of the field. The award will make it possible for them to attend further training by covering the costs associated with it. Just like Fiona herself, this will encourage those who are already prepared to go the extra mile by offering to shoulder some of the burden. Each year the recipient will write a blog post on their training experience, and will be offered the opportunity to host the Fiona Fund Twitter account.

After many months of investigation and preparation, the fund is now open for donations. If you click on the Fiona Fund logo below, it will take you straight to a page where you can join in.

I shall continue to sit on benches by the sea, and every time I do so I shall remember sharing them with my ‘bravest and best’. Meanwhile, the fund established in her name will be making a difference to oncology professionals, and those who benefit from their skills.

Another postcard from the land of grief

Years ago, before the loss which now overshadows me was even a cloud on the horizon, I was studying for a Master’s Degree in Preaching. As part of a module on post-modernity I looked at various media which caught the spirit of the age. One of them was the advert below, from the St Luke’s advertising agency:

The advert was all about the power of connection – in good times and bad. When I recorded my latest programme for BBC Radio 4, I had no idea of the number of people in the worldwide ‘stadium’ of the radio audience who would sense a connection with it. They have visited this blog in their 1000s, they have written cards, letters, emails and made phone calls. This land of grief has a population far bigger than I had ever realised.

Many of those who have got in touch have expressed their desire to read the book of the ‘Postcards’ and to be kept informed of its progress. Thanks to my publisher, Authentic Media, they can now do just that. Please visit this page and let them know that you are interested. Writing the remainder of the ‘Postcards’ book is proving to be particularly rocky terrain in this land of grief, and your company would be very welcome.

A journey completed

Eleven months ago, as the house hummed to the sound of the oxygen machine and the stair lift rattled occasionally up and down, I would have thought it inconceivable that I should spend ten days in Nepal this October.  Back then, the thought of trundling through Kathmandu’s dusty streets, gasping with wonder at sunrise over the Himalayas, or soaring 1800 feet above a Nepali lake beneath a para-glider would have been the furthest thing from my mind. So why did I go?

In the last weeks before my #bravestandbest left me for a higher calling, we had talked often about her funeral. We discussed the songs to sing, the way things would be, and where any money raised in her name might go. On the latter, she was keen that it should go to a mission context – but was unsure where that should be.

When the time came to plan it- a good friend introduced me to the work of KISC Equip in Nepal. This remarkable project is taking great strides in introducing best practice to Nepali schools in every context from mountain villages to big cities. Staff, parents and students are learning how to learn all over again, and it is yielding fruit. Since Fiona had dedicated the last few years of her working life to helping others learn how to learn – it seemed like a good fit. On November 16th , some £1800 was raised for the project through the generous giving of family, friends and colleagues. A few weeks later, the idea was born of going to see the project for myself, accompanied by one of my sons and two beloved friends.

There are so many things which I shall remember about Nepal. I will remember the majestic mountains:

I will remember the lush green valleys:

I will remember the stunning colours everywhere

More than anything, though – I shall remember a morning visit to a tiny yellow school in the shadow of the Himalayas:

In that school, with its highly motivated head, its dedicated teachers, and its enthusiastic students – I caught a glimpse of what a project like KISC Equip can do. After a tour round the school, we paused for spiced coffee and biscuits beneath the fan in the Principal’s office. With great ceremony, the visitor’s book was passed to me to sign. As I picked it up, I made a slip of the hand I have never made in these past eleven months. I wrote “Richard, Fiona…”. Maybe it was not a slip. Maybe it was because, as I told the school Principal, I could see her everywhere in that little school.

The legacy of my #bravestandbest lives on…

Technology and seeing

Eleven years ago, as part of the Biblefresh year, I organised a Bible photography exhibition in the church where I was working at the time. Local businesses donated prizes for the different categories and 79 images were submitted by 27 photographers to illustrate 68 different verses. You can read all about it here.  At the time I was asked  whether an image should be taken and then a Bible verse found to fit it, or a Bible verse selected and then an image chosen to illustrate it. I maintained then, as I do now, that it does not matter. If the exercise makes us either look at the world through Biblical eyes, or at the Bible reflected in the world about us – then a good thing is happening.

Yesterday, I came across an app, advertised through a Bible reading platform, which offers to cut out that entire exercise. The app allows you to take, or select, a photo, and the app then generates a Bible text to overlay onto it.

Sometimes the results are both clever and beautiful, turning the everyday into visual reminders of the spiritual:

Sometimes they are puzzling, such as a model seaplane ominously suggesting the verse below:

Sometimes there is a degree of confusion, such as here where both an image of a mosque and the cross generate the same verse:

The app is clever, slick, and will doubtless encourage me to play a lot more as I explore the way it works. If the images above are anything to go by, it could produce some very attractive results.

I can’t help the feeling, though, that it will make me lazy. Will it not short-circuit the creative process through which I went with that Bible exhibition seven years ago? I think the app which helps you see the world through a Biblical lens is called ‘imagination’, and it has been around for a long, long time…