Musings from doubt

 I wouldn’t normally go out, but I’d heard that he was coming, and I just had to try. Even if it was pointless, you get kind of desperate and will try anything. Well, not anything - after a while not anything painful or expensive… So there was a big crowd following him, all talking at the top of their voices to him and to each other. People were buying things along the side of the road, running on ahead to talk to other people, throwing figs or skins of wine to each other. Basically it was a walking party. I realised that I could easily get close to him - so many people around and no one was really paying attention. So I slipped close. It was hard to walk at the right pace, I had to pretend to be listening and look like I was part of the group. He was wearing this long cloak that was billowing out behind him, and I saw my chance! If he could really heal, then all I needed to do was to touch the cloak and slip away through the crowd. No one would ever know except me. At my age, I’m ...

 Doubt... I'm sure we all know what doubt is.We've all doubted to some extent, whether it's about the bus turning up on time or something deeper. But if we are waiting for a bus, the doubt is going to be cleared up relatively soon. Other doubts may take a long time to be resolved, and may go away and then resurface over time. I was thinking recently about my faith, and how sometimes it feels that bits of it come apart, rather like when you take apart a lego model. If you keep on taking apart a lego model, eventually all you have are the individual pieces, which don't mean anything on their own. You just send up with a heap of bricks. And I wonder if that's what will happen with my faith if I dig into my doubt - I will take it apart until there is nothing left.  As I was mulling over this, feeling more that slightly panicky - would I end up not believing anything? What if I took it apart and God wasn't there anymore? I heard God say (don't ask me how I know t...

  When the people saw that Moses was so long in coming down from the mountain, they gathered around Aaron and said, “Come, make us gods who will go before us. As for this fellow Moses who brought us up out of Egypt, we don’t know what has happened to him.” Exodus 32:1, NIV When I have read this before, I have focussed most on the golden calf and what that says about my own idolatry. But what I noticed today was how the Israelites reacted.  Moses disappeared up the mountain for 40 days. I'm guessing he didn't tell anyone when he was coming down - did he know himself? So they had no idea how long to wait for, and eventually decided that he was a goner, and they should sort themselves out. I mean, I would have expected him to come down for dinner. Sound familiar? What they expected to happen did not happen. The person they expected to be there wasn't there. The experience they wanted didn't happen. They feel betrayed. I see myself in this story - right here, in the reactio...

I found chapter 6 of Dane Ortlund's book Gentle and Lowly really helpful when writing this post. 'All those the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never drive away.' John 6:37. I am maybe stretching the text here, but it feels here that the second part of the sentence is a free pass. Jesus says that 'whoever' comes will never be driven away. No matter what, Jesus has promised and therefore we are allowed to come. No matter what we bring with us, no matter how we feel that we don't bring what we should, he will never drive us away, or in another version, 'no wise cast out' (KJV). I often have a feeling of obligation - I feel that there are things I should be, things I should say, things I should do. I feel a weight of expectation. And I'm quite sure that I can't meet those expectations and obligations.  Sometimes I feel that new Christians have an easy ride - their sins are forgiven, and they are new and clean, ready ...

 “As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, ‘Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!’ ‘Martha, Martha,’ the Lord answered, ‘you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed – or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.’” ‭‭Luke‬ ‭10:38-42‬ ‭NIVUK‬‬ I’ve often read this and found it felt condemnatory- Mary had done the right thing and she gets to sit there and take her time listening to Jesus, and Martha gets to run around like a headless chicken. I always imagined after this conversation that Mary stayed where she was, and Martha continued to serve.  But I wonder if it really happened that way. Maybe ...

 For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. 1 Corinthians 13:12. The title reflects the translation in the KJV, which I know from my childhood. This comes to mind because living as we do in this pandemic, it seems that this is the same experience right here and now with friends, church and family. We are all online, we see people and talk to them, but we know it is not enough. There is something different about being in person which the enforced separation is making clear to us. I'm not really sure what exactly it is about being in person that I miss so much - of course, there are the hugs, but there are people that I don't think I would ever hug who I still miss in person.  It's helpful to experience this as it has made me realise that when I get to heaven, things are going to tbe different in a way that I cannot imagine here on earth. As meeting someone 'in rea...

  Another version of those famous verses puts it like this:   “Look! I stand at the door and knock. If you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in, and we will share a meal together as friends.   When reading this recently, I imagined what might happen if Jesus turned up at my door as in this passage. I'd go to the door and open it and Jesus would be there. He says 'can I come in?' I look around and I see stuff all over the sofa. There are plates on the floor and the laundry is drying in the corner. The sink is full of plates and pans, and I'm sure I can see something growing on one of them. I am wearing pyjamas and I haven't showered. (I was tempted to say that I really wouldn't live like this, but if the inside of my head is like this, then I am!) I look at all this and hesitate, and say 'maybe another day, right now isn't a good time'. I close the door. I'd like to say it would happen differently, but in reality, I think that's h...