from Malcolm Ray-Smith

Dear Friends,

Elijah  “What are you doing here?”

The first book of Kings tells how this man of God won a marvellous victory over the prophets of Baal at Mount Carmel but then fled in terror after being threatened by Queen Jezebel.

Elijah was afraid and ran for his life. After leaving his servant at Beersheba he travelled alone into the desert until he laid under a broom tree to sleep.  He told God “I have had enough”. An angel brought him food and water and he slept again. Then the angel came again and touched him and said, “Get up and eat, for the journey is too much for you.”

Strengthened by that food he travelled on for forty days and forty nights until he reached Horeb where he spent a night in a cave. Then the word of the Lord came to him: “What are you doing here, Elijah?” When he replied God said to him “Go out and stand on the mountain for the presence of the Lord is about to pass by.”

Then Elijah witnessed the powerful wind and an earthquake and then a fire but Elijah did not see God in any of them. After the fire came a gentle whisper and Elijah heard God ask him again “What are you doing here?”  After he replied God gave him fresh instructions. “Go back the way you came and go to the desert of Damascus. When you get there anoint Hazael king over Aram. Also anoint Jehu, son of Nimshi, king over Israel, and Elisha son of Shaphat from Abel-meholah to succeed you as prophet.” Then God tells Elijah of the seven thousand whose knees have not bowed to Baal.

Maybe we sometimes also feel “I have had enough!” At such times the ministry of angels provide essentials to meet our needs.

What God asked Elijah he might also enquire of us. “What are we doing here?”

from Rev Wes Hampton

Dear Friends,

“Light rain and a moderate breeze” says the weather forecast.  Doesn’t that sound wonderful?  We have had weeks of heatwaves, we have hosepipe bans in place, and a large part of the country is officially in drought.  Yet we do not need the official designations to tell us that the weather has been hot and dry: we have felt it all too keenly for ourselves.  We have approached the point where mad dogs and Englishmen might be said to go out in the ‘late morning to mid-afternoon sun’, or something like that.

For some, “light rain and a moderate breeze” is nothing like enough.  For those who manage our water supplies, this will not replenish the reservoirs.  For our farmers, this sounds like too little, and far, far too late.  For most of us, however, we do not want so much rain that we need to build arks, nor wind strong enough to make a dry channel appear in the sea.  We prefer to be comfortable, and generally that means moderation.  We even quote the saying “moderation in all things” as if it were a self-evident truth, though whether it is appropriate to have moderation in moderation is another question (I shall leave that for you.)

The demands of our faith, however, are often given in very immoderate ways: Jesus called his followers to take up their cross, he told a rich young ruler to give away all his wealth and follow Jesus, and commended the actions of a widow who donated every penny she had to the Temple treasury.  In Revelation, we even read of a church that the Son of Man will spit out because it is lukewarm, neither hot nor cold.  Immoderate language for moderate behaviour!

Neither extremism nor moderation is a sufficient way to view our discipleship.  We cannot all give up everything, nor should we all be content with a life that knows no challenge and challenges no-one.  Somehow, we need to work out what ‘balance’ in these things means.  We cannot, however, do all that now: “light rain and moderate breeze” sounds good.

Wes

from Rev Wes Hampton

“A voice says ‘Cry out!’

And I said ‘What shall I cry?’”  (Isaiah 40:6 NRSV)

I have received a helpful reminder that it is my turn to write the pastoral letter. It feels a bit like the challenge to the prophet, and the response fits well. Staring at a computer screen does not bring instant inspiration: what shall I cry?

Of course, if we ask someone else what we should say, we might not like the answer. The prophet is told to say that people are like grass and flowers, in that their lives are short and easily forgotten. That might not be a particularly encouraging message for us, but the word given to the prophet is insistent: “surely the people are grass.” (verse 7)

Thanks to our recent heatwaves, we can see clearly the fragility of the life of grass. Our yellow lawns and parks show that the natural world is interrelated, and the statistical concentration of the hottest years in the most recent time suggest that human activity is taking its toll on creation.  The wildfires in this country and other parts of Europe have brought vast tracts of grass to an even quicker end, and have caused devastation to people and animals alike. “The grass withers, the flower fades …” (verse 8) in a good year, but this is not a good year.

The prophet’s message, however, was one of hope in the midst of the brevity of human life: it promised that God’s word would last forever, and that God himself would come to shepherd his people. The limitations of our lives provide a contrast to the limitless grace of God. That abundant grace is what we should cry out about. It is easy to complain about what is wrong, but we, like the prophet, are called to proclaim good news.

Wes

from Chris Rooke-Matthews

Dear friends,

Following a series of various health issues, over many months, during which I have had to adapt to alternative ways of living, I’ve realised the importance of accepting the things that can’t be changed.  Rather than focussing on what I am unable to do, I now look at the ways I can make a positive difference each day.

Some days are easier than others, but I have been grateful for opportunities spent outside, in the garden, or walking in the shade of trees, meeting with family and friends, or looking after our daughter’s dog while she’s at work.

I recently discovered this prayer, by John Henry Newman, which has given me reassurance that I am not facing this alone:

God has created me to do Him some definite service. He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another.  I have my mission I may never know it in this life, but I shall be told it in the next. 

I am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons.  He has not created me for naught.  I shall do good.  I shall do his work.  I shall be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth in my own place while not intending it – if I do but keep His commandments.

Therefore, will I trust Him.  Whatever, wherever I am.  I can never be thrown away.  If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him; in perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him; if I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve Him.  He does nothing in vain.  He knows what He is about.  He may take away my friends, He may throw me among strangers.  He may make me feel desolate, make my spirits sink, hide my future for me – still He knows what He is about.

Chris