Not tired of blogging – just tired. End of term marking and QA processes work within tight deadlines, and a number of other commitments are unavoidable at this time of year and seem to come in waves of several at a time. So – not complaining, just explaining uncharacteristic levels of literary silence.
Friday started at 5.a.m. and included a 6.15 am flight to Gatwick, two examination boards at Spurgeon's, then the plane back at 6.30 – except an emergency landing by another plane delayed take-off for another hour while we were on the plane waiting to taxi.
Saturday at the Ordination and Induction of one of our students in bonnie Bo'ness. One of those occasions when many things come together – a person's sense of vocation, years of preparation, anticipation and hard application, the affirmation of a call from a local congregation and the confirmation of that call by the wider fellowship of our Baptist communities in Scotland – and this in the context of worship, prayer and celebration of the Gospel and the Christ who calls us to follow after him, faithfully and even recklessly.
Sunday worshipped at our own church, spent time talking with good folk whose ways of dealing with what comes at them in life go far to explaining why anyone would want to be a pastor. To love as we've been loved, to strengthen through encouragement the weak knees and uphold through prayer the feeble arms, as people of faith just get on with it – and when it gets too much, well many a time the grace that is sufficient comes to us through those other fellow travellers who come alongside us and walk awhile.
Monday, back to College and a staff meeting to catch up with where we each are, what's on our agendas, and what still needs doing. Another week with a diary that is ridiculously optimistic about energy, time and presence all being able to be held in an effective and productive balance. But lunch was shared with the Eejits, a group of friends who try not to take ourselves too seriously, but who in conversation and shared story take the Gospel and the Church with both seriousness and we hope, a creative if at times critical playfulness.
Tuesday morning till Thursday late evening it's meetings – I'm trying to develop a theology, even a spirituality, of meetings. Agendas, minutes, apologies, business arising, financial statements, reports, feedback analyses, candidate papers, publicity and promotional concerns – all of that admin paraphernalia shouldn't be allowed to disguise the realities behind the at times necessary tedium. These realities are people – students and their families, staff and their families, colleagues in the University and at the Baptist Union, churches looking for relevant, faithful and available ministries, and a Gospel worthy of our hardest work, our best ideas, our clearest thinking, and well worth any amount of tedium that enables the coming of the kingdom – watching a seed germinate and grow in real time isn't the most instantly gratifying pastime.
But wait. If you have faith…..a grain of mustard seed…..eventually birds building nests in branches. Sometimes in the committee (that greatly abused structure for human conversation and decisions) it helps to envisage a mustard seed. In fact, maybe this week, at the various committees, along with the pens, the stationery, the mint imperials, the bottled water, there should be, placed on the top of the agenda paper, a mustard seed – a small subversive reminder that we don't know everything now, don't see all that can be, and our words and dreams may have a significance beyond the limitations of our too easily bored attention span. Anyway I hope so. In fact, if I have faith as a grain of mustard seed……
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