Wednesday, 7 April 2010

old and new

I've been involved in what might be described as Church Music for a long time. More than half my life - and I'm not *that* old.

I say that not to claim expert position or some kind of stature, but that in recognising that I've been involved in something like that for a while, the possibility is there that I find it mundane. Or just crank out the same old tunes. Or stick to what is safe.

But my perception of what have made the *best* times of what is also described as Worship has been when there's been a simplicity, depth and sense of Presence. It's times like that when you feel like it's hard to move. Like the air is thick with awe. Like the air you are filling your lungs with is richer than the air somewhere else.

Those are physical feelings for something that's apparently just a spiritual experience. But who said that there's no connection between the physical and the spiritual.

All of this has been in my head as I reflect on the power of simplicity. Of the deeply profound impact that a simple word can have. That a simple act of kindness can have.

I have wondered if this is the pressing down, shaking together and running over spoken of in Luke 6:38

There's no formula that will see this happen, other than making room for God and following where He is going.

Have you felt this before?

Monday, 5 April 2010

Business as Usual

I was at work today, Easter Monday. It's a holiday for many people, but there were plenty of us in the office.

I was working on a few old ideas, and trying to get some new stuff happening, when I realised something. My current role came around because I tried some new stuff out - and it worked.

Reflecting on this, I realised some of the hardest steps have been to move things from being odd, outside or just plain new into being the way things should be. And that's not really a hard thing to do - it's just not straight-forward, and generally not much fun. Often it's not a good idea either.

So I decided to go back to where the fun started - and just suggest some things that were on my mind.

What's the worst that can happen? That my perception goes down in people's eyes?

I'm really not sure that matters, because while I've read and learned a lot from Trust Agents, I'm not trying to build myself a tower of self-accomplishment.

What's my motivation for being at work?

I spoke about that yesterday here.

Sunday, 4 April 2010

Wash my motives clean

"Why?"

It's a question that's often fun to answer. While the weeWeir is not yet at the inquisitive, asking "why?" to everything stage yet, I've been thinking a bit about motivation.

Why do we do things? Is it for respect, recognition or reward? How about to show compassion, capability or some sense of achievement?

Do I tell you a certain story as a way of controlling? Do I use circumstances to manipulate others into doing what I want?

Does it matter?

Too right it does.

You see, in the teachings of Jesus, the heart (or motives) are crucial. The intent is vital. But so it the approach.

It's Easter Sunday. Did Jesus intend to die? Yes. Why? "Not my will, but yours be done".

Did He do it in some grand show of bravado? Some demonstration of self-deprecation - or ultimate folly?

Nope. It was the ultimate sacrifice. The blameless took my shame.

Why? So that God would be glorified - and people would be drawn to Him.

My hope is that people see Jesus through how I live. That Jesus would show them the love of the Father, the Creator. And that through faith we can live in grace & peace, full of love and a hope that doesn't disappoint.

Motives are hard to judge from the outside, so I can't really speak for anyone else, but this Easter, I hope you meet with the living Jesus who loves us more than we'll ever know.

My hope is that people don't see me as someone who has it all together, who has it all figured out.

PS - the title is a line from a Sue Rinaldi song "Change this world". I remember a gig with IndigoEcho when Sue was *headlining*. That was an odd gig, lots of fun, but still odd. We played to about 20 people in a 300-capacity tent in Ayrshire. The line "come and wash our motives clean" has stayed with me for over 10 years as I think about why I do things.