How aware are we of our time?

I am about to launch into teaching my year 9 history class about World War One.

Even though I’m on isolation this week due to having COVID (never fear, it is the mildest case in human history) I am planning the lessons from home.

And, as we look at the causes of WW1… everything is… oddly familiar.

Militarism. Alliances. Imperialism. Nationalism. 

Europe was like a gas filled room. All it needed was a spark to ignite the conflict.

It does sound familiar…

I have little doubt that, currently, we are living in the middle of a future history lesson.

Hopefully, it won’t be the opening of the chapter on World War 3.

But how aware are we that we live in the midst of history?

With present world circumstances, it’s not too had.

We have an active war zone on the news.

We are still in a pandemic.

I’ll be able to tell my grandkids that I had COVID.

But, five years ago, would we have been so aware?

In a religious sense, how aware are we that we are in the middle of the salvation story still unfolding?

Now, of course, you can take this to an unhelpful place and project yourself, your church or your nation into a place it may not belong.

You can squeeze yourself, chapter and verse, into the book of Revelation.

Many have. And looked rather foolish in doing so.

Nonetheless, being aware that the unfolding story of God’s redemptive plan is still ongoing, can provide a useful perspective.

The difference between maths and religion

This week I observed a maths exam in a year 7 class I was coving for another teacher.

For some students, it looked like torture.

They squirmed.

They groaned.

They held their head in their hands.

If I were their maths teacher I would have been concerned.

Downtrodden even.

It was clear that some students knew very little.

The whole experience made me think of the difference between a school subject like maths and religion.

As a maths teacher, the farrowed brow of lostness is a bad thing.

The stress of not knowing the answer is problematic.

This need not be the case with religion.

Religion should welcome questions.

Religion should embrace those who are lost and searching.

These are not the signs of failure.

If anything, the complete opposite is true.

A smug confidence is something to be cautious of.

What would happen if we all had our warning-flags displayed?

 Teachers know.

As a teacher I have access to details about the students in my classes.

This includes everything from learning, language, literacy or numeracy concerns/testing results, court orders, disabilities, medical ailments, mental health issues and behavioural problems.

These, usually, are indicated by a series of coloured flags attached to the students name within the school administration/roll marking software.

As a teacher you are told to be mindful of these issues.

You are to be weary of them when you set tasks, administer tests, conduct assignments, deliver expectations and negotiate classroom management.

There are a lot of flags in most classes.

I wonder how life would be different if we all walked around displaying our flags.

Furthermore, what kind of things would trigger a public notification?

Addictions? Past hurts? Family or relationship tensions? Character flaws?

How would we treat others differently if we were aware of their past hurts?

How would the church minister to people differently if they knew they had been hurt by the church in the past?

Unfortunately, we don’t display our colours of disfunction.

But, as a church (and people in general), we should always remain vigilant to the fact that everyone - no matter how together their live and persona may be - walks around with areas of struggle, strain and brokenness.

Your planning pillars shouldn’t be a surprise

Christmas and Easter. The incarnation and the resurrection of Jesus.

This is what your church or ministry calendar should circle around.

This isn’t a groundbreaking revelation.

But, the reason I mention it is that - if you don’t do it - you tend to look rather foolish when you misalign your themes or events with the pillars of the church calendar.

When you’re examining a gospel and your misalign the start or end it is obvious.

To those aware of the liturgical calendar, it’s quite annoying.

Why?

Because it shows a lack of adequate planing.

It exposes a lack of forethought.

If you sketch things out - even roughly - 12, 8 or 6 months in advance, then you should be able to match up what you are studying/teaching/preaching about with the primary festivals of the faith.

Worse still, it gets dreadfully exposed if there are some parts of the church who do seek to have their events match Christmas and Easter.

Finally, your folly is exposed even more if, once the two central celebrations do roll around, you directly reference them in detail (which you should!), you’ll be cycling back or jumping forward a few weeks from the rhythm that you yourself have established.

A nothing post... in a good way

I've been meaning to blog for a week.

But, frankly, I've had nothing pressing to write about.

Why? 

Because I'm now teaching fulltime. And it's week 7 of terrm.

The new-profession buzz has started to wear off.

My bible reading is still moving going along regularly - I've now done Genesis 1-25, Judges and am currently in 1 Kings 1-11.

There isn't any impending church issues, wider ministry controverises or pressing pastoral conundrums which have emerged.

While I'll need to track down another job soon, have finally (offically) finished university and had my eldest have a hospital stay... Life has just... been happening. 

In many ways, I've just been living out adult-monotony. 

And, as I previously wrote, this is a good thing.

For, life shouldn't be a constant rollarcoaster.

Yet, this can be what we project online.

There's always controversy.

There's always insights or "breakthroughs."

There's always Instagramable-moments.

These are the markers of a reality TV show. Not real life.

Real life is boring.

Real life... just happens.

When it comes to the days, weeks and months of our lives, when held up against Isaiah 40:31, we are most often walking, not running or soaring.