The window has now closed for another two years

I’ve just concluded a fortnight of school holidays.

My wife is currently in Europe on her annual trip to visit her family.

As of Sunday, this unique window closed.

I returned to school today.

My wife returns on Friday.

This means that my biennial experiment is over.

What experiment?

Growing facial hair.

Last Sunday I had the delight to return to my well-groomed norm.

No scraggly beard.

No dirty moustache.

No more odd empty patches upon my chin.

The reason I get to unleash my facial fuzz every second year is simple…

I’m curious.

Can I grow it?

Can I grow it better now than a few years ago?

How much of the fuzz will still be rusty?

Will any be grey now?

Over the last two-and-a-half-weeks I grew the longest facial I’ve ever had.

And I then got the pleasure to reap the rewards.

Over a series of eight steps, I got to deconstruct my facial hair and send the seedy photographic evidence to my beloved a world away.

The overwhelming lessons of this experiment?

My “beard” now does contain flecks of grey.

I look especially dodgy with a handlebar moustache.

It’s probably inappropriate to send a photo of yourself with an Adolf Charlie Chaplin moustache to your spouse of German descent…

Should we want to double-speed our faith?

Last Sunday I heard a sermon delivered via voiceover since the minister was ill.

Hearing a sermon isn’t unusual in the modern age.

We can hear sermons via podcasts while on commutes from anywhere across the globe.

But, almost without fail, whenever I hear a sermon online it will be sped up. Usually 1.5 speed.

It was unusual not being able to do that on Sunday.

Of course, I was in person so it was impossible, but the desire nonetheless remained.

In many ways, this is how a lot of modern spirituality is digested: sped up.

Sermons.

Prayers.

Readings.

Worship.

We tend to skim.

Or skip.

Or scan.

Or speed up.

Because now there is so much to consume.

Or it is a sign of familiarity.

Or, worse of all, laziness.

Perhaps, we need to make the difficult, counter-cultural, decision to slow down.

To not increase the speed.

To not increase the consumption.

In order to grow our faith in a healthy manner, we need to slow down, not speed up.

What kind of fish are you looking to be?

I am attached to two churches.

One is much larger than the others.

Even though I’m only at each on alternative fortnights, I’m significantly involved more in the smaller congregation.

The simple reason is that there’s more opportunity within the smaller church.

I wonder how many people consider this fact when they’re moving churches.

How involved are they willing to be?

What opportunities to serve may exist within a potential congregation?

What gifts and talents can they bring to a perspective church?

Of course, the larger the church, the larger the human capital they possess.

Equally, the larger the church, the larger the impact and ministries they may employ.

So, the question facing the perspective church hopper can be: Would you rather be a big fish in a small ecclesiastical pond or a smaller fish in a larger pond?

Are you obligated to share your pain to your minister?

Everybody gets a season.

Life happens.

And when life hurts you need support.

For some, they wouldn’t think twice about sharing their burdens with the minister at their church.

For others, the minister at their church would barely know their name.

For, the size of your church depends heavily on the relationship you have with the ministry staff at your church.

Realistically, any minister can effectively pastorally care for only around 50 people.

They can be functionally pastorally aware of around twice than number.

So, when a personal disaster strikes, who do you turn to?

Do you have a threshold of hurt before you’ll feel that it reaches the depth of senior minister-notification?

When a life crisis hits, does a ministry organiser really only need to know once it primarily affects any duties which you are rostered for?

Of course, every member of a church should be connected with multiple pastoral supports, so withholding a pastoral emergency from the sermon-deliverer may not be a sign of pastoral dissatisfaction. 

But, there may be a pressure for someone to at least update the ministry staff after the initial emergency has subsided.

After all, a senior minister may be annoyed if they find out that six members of their church have had miscarriages, three have separated and two have been diagnosed with cancer and they were left in the dark.