2021 Best of…

12 months ago I asked… How do you sum up the dumpster fire that was 2020?

Well, you could pose a similar query to 2021.

This year COVID put me in isolation for a fortnight and resulted in me prac teaching online for three weeks.

I finished my Education/Arts degree (majoring in Roman Antiquity, minoring in geography).

Now, with my studies completed, I’m officially unemployed (hopefully never to read another gas meter again!) and now navigating the waters of finding a teaching position.

This year, like the last few, blogging was down depending upon my study schedule, nonetheless here’s the Rambling highlights of 2021…

Why not reject one more?

Should you pair up dating leaders?

Should you review and rewrite the past?

Disunity starts with the convinced tribe

The danger of having to hit a sermon-time-limit

The secret which helps your points breathe

The secret hack of meeting new people at church

You have to be close enough to see the bones

Should a preacher wade into the waters of controversy?

How do you minister to those on the edges of the arguments?

Preaching should come at a cost for talented ministers

The message virgin converts need to hear

You’re not meant to BE Jesus at your work

What role should death play in modern evangelism?

A few weeks ago I was having a conversation about evangelism and, somehow we got onto the role of death.

I assume it was because, for the first time in living me,our, death is - again - a threat in the West due to COVID.

So, can Christians, once again, use the looming shadow of death as an evangelistic tool?

For decades, the idea of death being an imposing, threatening menace in the West has been somewhat removed by increased comfort and modern medicine.

Sure, death still existed. Obviously.

And death still occurred. Even in the young.

Death would still strike in moments of disaster and tragedy just as much in 2019 as it would in times gone by.

And yet… infant mortality is at its lowest. Life expectancy is at its highest.

So, what - if any - role should death play in evangelism?

Of course, if you’re going to speak about judgement, then death will be a part of the discussion.

If you’re going to press the importance of the resurrection, then pointing out that ever human has and will die may be an important launching point.

But, what of the sudden threat of death - one that can legitimately strike next month or year?

Is this message more powerful now, in a COVID world, than it has been since, say, the AIDS epidemic or the World Wars?

I suspect, in some places! The message may hit closer to home.

But, should death be our message?

Should our evangelism be punctuated by death?

I don’t think so.

Surely, even if the shadow of death is more impending than in generations, our primary message should still be about life.

Life to the full.

Eternal life.

Life over death.

Even in a COVID world.

Or a world with AIDS

Or with World Wars.

Or the Plague.

Christianity should always be, at the core, about life and hope. Not death and fear.

Does chronologically misaligned prayer still work?

Earlier this week I had a job interview for a teaching job.

At approximately the some time, someone else in my small group was also having a job interview.

The both of us mentioned this to the members of our small group, many whom passed on best wishes and prayer.

But, there were a few who passed on their well-wishes too late.

By the time they sent a message, the interviews had both already concluded.

This made me wonder, what did God do with that prayer?

In theory, prayer uttered out of time sequence shouldn’t be a great problem.

God exists outside of time.

He can honour a chronologically challenged prayer since He hears the heart, mind, motivations and words of the one praying.

Outside of the clock.

He can move in alignment with the prayer, despite the prayer not having left their lips yet.

But… if unchronological prayer works, how long is it effective?

A few hours?

The same day?

Up until the point that the prayer discovers the result?

Nonetheless, prayer - in part - is about transforming the one who up is lifting up the prayer.

It is a way to show support for a fellow believer.

This works at any time.

If you want to sing to Jesus, don’t point it here

My last post mentioned one of the differences between Catholics and Protestants - the former especially mark their first partaking in communion.

But, if you want a simple way to recognise a Catholic Church, you need look no further than the cross.

In the Catholic tradition, they have a crucifix, with a representation of Jesus still upon the crucifixion beams.

The difference was triggered in my mind last Sunday when someone mentioned that we should direct our singing to the cross.

The trouble with this, for Protestants, is that the cross is now empty.

As a symbol of the resurrection, the cross is vacant.

Ditto for the tomb.

So, singing to the cross would be singing to an, albeit significant, symbol.

The cross, now, two pieces of wood that point us to the sacrifice of Jesus.

If you want to direct your worship to Jesus, outside of the Catholic tradition, the cross is not the place to point it…

What do you gain by knowing the first time you had communion?

I never knew when my first communion was.

I can guess a location.

Probably.

Whilst communion is significant, as a Protestant, it's just not something that you mark as a memorable occasion.

Even for the first time.

The same thing will be true for my children.

They won't be able to say when they first had communion.

But their cousins can.

Or at least they will be able to find a certificate marking the occassion.

Do Catholics gain something by making such a big deal about their milestone sacraments?

Do Protestants lose something?

How does internal silence effect prayer?

For the last fortnight I've been walking the streets reading gas meters - a job I haven't done for the last five years.

Weirdly, this is very cyclic since it was a task like this that resulted in this blog.

Now I'm back walking the streets with nothing more than my thoughts.

As the hours pass your mind drifts to strange places. 

Lately my mind has laboured about those who have no internal dialogue. It's a genuine thing. For real.

I wonder what effect this has on prayer.

I ponder this because when I pray while meandering the suburbs, it can - frankly - sometimes feel like I'm talking to myself.

But, I know what that feels like.

I chat with myself.

I argue with myself.

I bicker with myself.

And, this is, apparently, normal.

But, how does prayer feel for those who are unfamiliar with the feeling of internal chatter?

Is prayer improved because they don't tune out of prayer as often?

Do they feel more connected because they only primarily communicate with those who are in attendance?

Is prayer more difficult because they are unfamiliar with nattering into the ether (which prayer can feel like)?

Just like my conundrum about evangelising believers with amnesia, I suspect I'll never find someone who fits the demographic to ask how the situation works.

But. I would be intrigued find out how it works and, more importantly, how prayer is different...