Lose to win…

Whoever tries to keep their life will lose it, and whoever loses their life will preserve it.

…and…

Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

Jesus of Nazareth
(Luke 17:33 and Matthew 6:34)

A lot of stuff has been written these days about finding yourself.

Find solitude…escape from life’s routines…live without distraction…eschew social obligations…lay work commitments aside…get ‘off-grid’…do whatever it takes to find your true self!

 Neil Ansell definitely has a ‘take’ on this. As one who enacted all of the above, and more, he certainly has lived experience.

In “Deep Country”, he writes:

By the time the first frosts came in November, my shelves would be laden with jars of jam and pickled mushrooms, bottles of ketchup and wine, and whatever else I had preserved that year. What vegetables could not be left out to overwinter would be harvested and stored. I would be like a squirrel with my cache of nuts to keep me through the hard times to come. The hatches would be battened down; I was ready for the worst. Happiness is a full larder.
 
This was the pattern of my days, a simple life led by natural rhythms rather than the requirements and expectations of others. Imagine being given the opportunity to take time out of your life, for five whole years. Free of social obligations, free of work commitments. Think how well you would get to know yourself, all that time to consider your past and the choices you had made, to focus on your personal development, to know yourself through and through, to work out your goals in life, your true ambitions.
 
None of this happened, not to me. Perhaps for someone else it would have been different. Any insight I have gained has been the result of later reflection. Solitude did not breed introspection, quite the reverse. My days were spent outside, immersed in nature, watching…My attention was constantly focused away from myself and onto the natural world around me. And my nights were spent sitting in front of a log fire, aimlessly turning a log from time to time and staring at the flickering flames. I would not be thinking about the day just gone; that day was done. And I would not be planning tomorrow; tomorrow would take care of itself. The silence outside was reflected by a growing silence within…I certainly learned to be at ease with myself in the years I spent at Penlan, but it was not by knowing myself better – it was by forgetting I was there. I had become a part of the landscape, a stone.

From “Deep Country – Five Years in the Welsh Hills”, by Neil Ansell

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So lonely…

Back in 2011 Neil Ansell (see previous post) wrote another book, called “Deep Country: five years in the Welsh hills.” In it he writes about a stay of five years in a remote cottage, without modern services, transport or a phone, a story about wild, remote places and wild creatures that became his society…

Once again, the book contains some real gems, both in its encounters with wild life and some of Neil’s discoveries as he spends this extended time with only occasional human companionship, like this one:

I couldn’t feel lonely. Loneliness is the product of isolation that has not been freely chosen. You can of course feel more lonely in the midst of a crowd of people if those people are not giving you the human contact you desire, in the same way that poverty surrounded by affluence feels harsher, more shocking, than poverty shared. Solitude embraced is the opposite of loneliness.

You might like this promotional video HERE

 

A pilgrimage by any other name…

It’s now a little over two weeks since Berwick Literary Festival 2018, and much as I’d like it to, I realise that this blog post is not going to write itself. I really want to respond to at least one of the talks I went to at the Festival, but am struggling (as I often do) with a sense of how unable I am to do it justice…

I’ve been a regular visitor to the Festival for at least three years now, and generally pick out sessions about History, Archaeology, Current Affairs or the Great Outdoors, and in previous years have enjoyed readings and talks from authors such as Alistair Moffat (‘Scotland: a history from earliest times’), Max Adams (‘In the Land of Giants’) and Richard Hingley (‘Hadrian’s Wall: a life’)…I particularly enjoyed the talk by Max Adams (a landscape archaeologist) and went on to read all his books.

This year I chose two very different sessions:

My ‘current affairs’ session was a talk by Douglas Alexander, who was an MP for 18 years before taking on his current role as Chair of UNICEF UK, entitled ‘Trump, the transatlantic relationship and the rise of populism’. Whilst I’m not writing about this session in any depth, I do want to record what a pleasure it was to listen to an ex- politician who was knowledgeable, erudite and, well, very nice!

The second talk was by an author I had not heard of, called Neil Ansell, who would provide my ‘outdoor’ session as he talked about his book, “The Last Wilderness”.

I don’t always manage it, but I made a point of reading his book in the week running up to the talk…seemed only polite…and I was captivated on so many levels.

Although, on the surface, the book is about a series of flesh and blood journeys around a wild area of the west coast of Scotland, the Rough Bounds, that the author visited decades ago, also present is an interior journey into the unknown wilderness of loss, aging and dying. This is why, for me, this is very much a book about a pilgrimage. The descriptions of his experiences, courage and moments of insight made me want to meet the man…so I booked for his session.

I was not disappointed.

Neil is a self-effacing, single parent with two daughters, who lives on the south coast of England. He had travelled up to Berwick that day in order to give his one hour talk and was travelling back as soon as he had finished…which seemed no big deal to this seasoned traveller at all. He seems very at home in his own skin, which showed as he shared aspects of his life and travels in a friendly and welcoming way, and seemed adept at getting to the heart of any question asked by a member of the audience, using appropriate readings from his book.

Although, as I said, I had read the book prior to attending the talk, his readings, with their personal comments and applications made several bits really come alive to me.

I don’t want to spoil the book for other readers by saying too much, but I’d like to give just a few snippets, focussing on the interior journey, hopefully as a way to increase your interest.

The sub title of the book is ‘A Journey into Silence’. Early in the book he tells us that:

“I have been deaf in one ear since infancy, and the hearing in what I call my ‘good’ ear is severely compromised too, and is rapidly deteriorating.”

This experience leads to many thoughts on loss and aging as the narrative develops. For example, as he observes flights of common sandpipers on the loch shore, he writes:

“And they call their piercing, insistent call, which for me has always been emblematic of summer in the uplands. But not any more. For me they are no longer sandpipers, for me they are just sand – -.  I can scarcely believe that I have now lost such a shrill, loud call. It feels as if my world is being dismantled around me, piece by piece…perhaps it makes me value the moment more…and when I see something extraordinary, an eagle or an otter, perhaps, there is a little part of me that cannot help but think, is this my last eagle? Is this my last otter? For in reality it is not the world that is leaving me, it is me that is leaving the world. It is my own absence that I am having to come to terms with.”

I am not personally facing the immanent loss of any of my senses, yet as I age, I often find myself realising that a day will come when I see a creature or a person for the last time, or go to a place I love for the last time ever, and this is no morbid introspection, but rather an encouragement to relish every sight, every place and every relationship that comes my way.

Ansell writes about not allowing the aging process to define and shrink our world unnecessarily:

“When it come to our own decline, it is never a matter of if, only of when. And we all have to work within the confines of our own physical limitations. If I could no longer climb a mountain, then I would climb a hill. And if the only thing that was still a walk in the park was an actual walk in the park, then I would find a park. And when the time came that I could do nothing more than look out of a window, then I hope I would have chosen for myself a room with a view worth watching.”

What had actually led to this particular train of though was the ‘as-yet-undiagnosed’ heart condition that was giving him a lot of trouble on one of his later expeditions, in September. Camped out on the shore, miles from anyone or anywhere, in Knoydart he was awoken by crushing pains in his chest, that no medication would ease.

He spends a long night, alone and at peace with his choices and consequences…

“I walked the strand all night, until the darkness began to have texture, until the first grey light of dawn. The pain in my heart had not gone away, but nor had it got worse. I was still here. The onshore breeze had picked up, and brought with it a sudden squall of rain…I paused and turned towards the sea, spread my arms, turned my gaze to the heavens. Bring it on. Ice cold raindrops lashed against my face; it felt like being alive.”

I immensely enjoyed the journey of the book and the company of the man (albeit briefly), and am motivated and encouraged in life as a result.

That’s not something you could always say!

Growing faith…growing up…

And what more shall I say? I do not have time to tell about Gideon, Barak, Samson and Jephthah, about David and Samuel and the prophets…

Hebrews 11:32 (NIV)

The LORD turned to him and said, “Go in the strength you have and save Israel out of Midian’s hand. Am I not sending you?”

Judges 6:14 (NIV)

“He replied, ‘I tell you that to everyone who has, more will be given, but as for the one who has nothing, even what they have will be taken away.

Luke 19:26 (NIV)

Faith is a strange thing. Sometimes what little you have needs to be taken away so that faith can grow. Sometimes, using the faith you have results in you getting more. Sometimes, not using the little you have leads to you losing even that!

————————————————————————————————————————————-

Unless you are one of those always-supremely-confidant people you must have done it…God says, “I have a wonderful plan for your life”, and your response is, “Here I am-send someone else…please! I’m not ready, I don’t have what it takes, I’m not well connected enough, my faith is not what it could be…the reasons go on and on. At the root of it all, you sniff personal failure, and you don’t want to look foolish.

And God simply says, “No, you’re the one, even with all your defects. Go in the strength you have…”

And so, you go.

Things seem to be going well. The work is growing. People are flocking to help. It looks as if you really can do it. You feel good about yourself. God was right…you have got what it takes.

Then God interrupts. “You have a problem that needs fixing. So, I’m going to fix it. I’m going to cut your workers down to a handful. I’m going to severely reduce your budgets. But…the task won’t get any smaller.”

And it comes to pass.

Somehow you plough on. God has told you to do it, so you do. Things go better than you could have hoped. Despite the lack of resources, you succeed in doing what God has asked.

One day, you wake up and realise that you’ve changed. You no longer feel inadequate and worthless. You also realise that since God said he’d “Fix” your problem you’ve been praying more than you ever have in your life before. Every decision, every step has been bathed in prayer. And God has been faithful. It dawns on you that it’s never been about you…your abilities, your strength. It’s been about your ability to simply trust God…to trust that he wanted it to happen more than you could have imagined.

So, using what little faith you have is important… and so is who you have faith in.

The job is done…and you are changed too.

DON’T cut out the middle-man/woman…

 ‘I am the God of your fathers, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.’

Acts 7:32 (NIV)

By faith Isaac blessed Jacob and Esau in regard to their future.

Hebrews 11:20 (NIV)

“Middle-men” do not get great press. They are considered to be an unnecessary and costly intrusion in business dealings (although they can sometimes be invaluable in tricky negotiations). A particularly nasty wi-fi hijack and identity theft is called a “man in the middle attack”, for obvious reasons.

When it came to the ancestors of the nation of Israel, Isaac will forever be the man in the middle. He is chiefly remembered because of the sibling rivalry of his sons, his romance with Rebekah and a dispute over water-rights with his Philistine neighbours in the Negev desert.

He seems to lack the glamour of both his father, Abraham, and his son, Jacob.

He didn’t go on long journeys to far-off lands. He only had one wife and no concubines (as far as we know). He didn’t have his name changed by God, and both his life and his relationship with God seem, well, ordinary, compared to the other two. He also managed to live longer than either of them…maybe there’s a connection to all the other stuff…

And yet, in God’s economy, he had an important and significant part to play, and he and his more illustrious relatives can teach the church today an important lesson when it comes to building things with God that last.

So, Abraham was a pioneer, an innovator. Although they can be uncomfortable to live with, with their tendency to start new things and then move on to the next,we desperately need them in the Kingdom. We have an unchanging God who constantly likes to do old things in new ways. He understands the way that human culture changes better than any of us, and he’s anxious that his church doesn’t get left behind and become irrelevant and side-lined in a rapidly changing world. So he gives us pioneers (maybe apostles in old language…) who catch God’s heart and vision and share it with the rest of us, stirring us up to do old things in new ways through their passion and the vision they share.

But, as I already mentioned, they have the apparently annoying and frustrating habit of abandoning their project and moving on to the next new thing. Left alone, the project would quickly die, and lead to a string of “we tried it; it didn’t work” attitudes.

That’s when Isaac-types come in.

He’s the consolidator of the new vision. He’s the one who works it out, goes deeper and works hard to establish it on firm foundations. He’s the one who makes it work

I see him doing it in three ways.

1. He worked out what was worth keeping. In Genesis 24: 1-4 Abraham sends his servant to find a wife for Isaac among their relatives back I the old country, rather than from among the local people they now lived among. Then, In Genesis 28: 1-4 we find Isaac doing exactly the same thing with his son, Jacob. Their identity and heritage as God’s people mattered. When we are doing new things with God, decisions have to be made about what is worth hanging onto from our past history as the people of God and what we need to give up. It’s also important that we don’t start to blend in with people who don’t know Jesus yet so much that we become indistinguishable, and cease to be signposts to Jesus. Isaac’s job was to stay put in the land God had promised, putting down roots and growing there, and still being distinctive.
2. He knew when to move on. When he encountered opposition from the Philistines, who kept on filling in the wells he dug, instead of fighting, he let go of the wells and moved on to places where he could dig new ones. And eventually he dug a well in a place no-one contested. Visionaries find it very hard to let go of the dream and move on, often leading to break-ups, splits and the end of something that could have been good. People get tired of opposition (and sometimes it is right to resist) but sometimes we need to name our failure and move on, believing God has something better for us.
3. He had an eye on the future. Consolidators know that often they won’t see the fruits of their labours…they build for future generations to benefit. They also know how to make the best out of a bad situation. Isaac’s dysfunctional family could have been a bit of a disaster. When Jacob tricked his father into giving him the blessing meant for the eldest son (Esau), a blessing which could only be given once, Jacob improvised and made up a new blessing for Esau. Both sons were given a blessing for their futures!

And so, we come to Jacob.

Jacob took the vision given to Abraham, and so carefully established by Isaac, and he made it grow. He was the expander, the developer, the builder. His methods weren’t always the one’s God might have chosen but God was faithful and Jacob slowly learned to do things God’s way. He ended up with a large family that found safety from famine in a foreign land and grew there into the great nation that God had promised. They still had to return to the land God had promised, but that is another story.

It might be helpful to read Acts and the Epistles again, and notice how Paul (an Abraham-type, I think) travelled with people and built teams of people who had Isaac and Jacob-type characteristics as he planted new churches. Might be interesting to look at the ministry gifts in Ephesians 4: 11-16 and try to think which gifts an Abraham, an Isaac and a Jacob might have.

In our churches, as we seek to build God’s Kingdom, we need to identify the Abrahams, Isaacs and Jacobs among our members, let them do what they do best and…this is the hard part…get them to work together on God’s plan.

I am, once again, deeply indebted to Lyndall Bywater for her book “Faith in the Making” that has been inspirational and deeply troubling to my personal comfort, and reminded me of my place in God’s scheme of things, which I have found very encouraging.

 

 

 

 

 

A short hop at Harestanes…

I was on my way home from an appointment in Melrose and decided to stop off at Harestanes Countryside Visitors’ Centre for a coffee.

This is a place of many happy memories…visits with the children when they were younger and as a lunch stop on a number of pilgrimages that I have led along St Cuthbert’s Way.

Once I was there, how could I resist a short walk (my time was a bit limited). I wondered about taking the path up Peniel Heugh to the Waterloo Monument, but decided to tread a more familiar path, along part of St Cuthbert’s Way out to the Monteviot Suspension bridge across the River Teviot, instead.

Early autumn is in the air, and I left the courtyard of the Centre by the small door next to “Mary’s Dairy”, resisting the temptation of delicious ice cream, and followed the path by the access road, in the direction of the Stables at Monteviot House, until it takes a left turn and crosses a stream via a wooden footbridge.

The path continues through a small wood, with some interesting trees with exposed roots, until it meets St Cuthbert’s Way, at which point I followed the signpost ‘East’.

Along the route are several marker posts…the one in the photograph bears the cross for St Cuthbert’s Way, a Roman helmet, because the route is a continuation of Deere Street and the green arrow for one of Harestanes own suggested routes.

When I emerged from the woods onto the main drive of Monteviot House I turned left towards the gates before turning right onto the signposted St Cuthbert’s Way and plunging back into the woods.

These woods are filled with beech trees and some magnificent oaks, and I saw squirrels skittering about beneath them.

When the path left the wood I followed it along the edges of a number of spacious fields. There are several magnificent oaks along this path…I sheltered under one when a sudden short, drizzly shower came from nowhere.

 

Shower over, I reached the end of the field path and went through a gate into a largely coniferous wood.

The path led on to a T-junction: I went left to the viewpoint onto the River Teviot at Nisbet Mill Cauld before backtracking down the right path and walking on to the Monteviot Suspension Bridge, built with the help of money from the EU.

In order to get some panoramic photographs I crossed the bridge, which was swaying quite a bit in the fresh breeze. It’s narrow, high and long, with long approach ramps at each end. I remembered how, on a previous visit, our bearded collie, Sam, had refused point blank to walk across and had to be carried across the most terrifying (for him) bit.

After pausing for a while to enjoy the solitude (I’d only met two people, both of them clearly long distance path walkers, since leaving the centre) I returned to the Centre by the same route, and continued my journey home. I had walked a very pleasant 5 miles in total.

Simply a walk-on part…

[24] Enoch walked faithfully with God; then he was no more, because God took him away.

Genesis 5:24 (NIV)

 

[5] By faith Enoch was taken from this life, so that he did not experience death: “He could not be found, because God had taken him away.” For before he was taken, he was commended as one who pleased God. [6] And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.

Hebrews 11:5 (NIV)

A walk-on part…there are two ways of looking at that, and Enoch could be said to encapsulate both views.

If you’re an actor with a walk-on part you at least get to be on stage. You have no lines to speak; you have an opportunity to be memorable simply through your presence and how convincing or unforgettable any action you take is.

Enoch is like that. He appears in the post-Fall and pre-Flood narrative in the Bible. We know he was someone’s son, someone’s father and how long he lived. We are given no back story and he has no lines to deliver in the Genesis epic.

But there is, as I said earlier, a second-way to understand Enoch’s walk-on part…all his life he walked on with God as his constant companion, and apparently that was enough, “he was commended as one who pleased God” (Hebrews 11: 5).

Just a few chapters back in the book we hear how God enjoyed walking with Adam and Eve in the cool of the day. Then it all went drastically wrong, our Biblical forebears were kicked out of paradise, and the relationship with God became a bit distant.

But, if the story here means anything at all, it must mean that although the location for the walk has changed a bit, God’s desire for a close relationship with anyone who really wants to walk with him has clearly not changed.

And God went on walking with people just like you and me, until he walked himself right out of heaven and spent time walking across the Holy Land with a rag-tag bunch of followers, showing them that he really is Emmanuel, God with us.

Apparently, the ingredients for a close relationship with God are as simple as believing he exists and wants us to become his walking companions, and having found that out to join in the walk.

And we followers of Jesus sometimes make it all sound so complicated!

In her book “Faith in the Making” (where credit for the inspiration for this post lies), Lyndall Bywater tells a lovely story to explain the verse from Hebrews 5 quoted above.

A little girl was recounting to her parents he things she’d learned about Enoch in her Sunday school session. When it came to explaining how he’d left his mortal life, she scratched her head and thought for a bit, before declaring, ‘What happened was that he kept going for walks with God, and one day he walked such a long way that God said it would be too far to go back to Enoch’s house, so they might as well go to God’s place instead.’

This is the bit that really moved me…what a wonderful way to picture death.

To discover that there is a God who wants to share his life with us in the walk of life, to join up with his walking group and to walk with him through the many adventures of life until one day we walk right out of our world and into his…that’s truly amazing.

And it is enough.

We don’t need to strive to be famous, to do great things, to write books, to make a name for ourselves…although we may be blessed with any and all of those things…we simply need to walk with God, as step-by-step and day-by-day he transforms us into the image of Jesus.

One of the Old Testament prophets summed it all up so well when he said:

He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.

Micah 6:8 (NIV)