"Our Calling" is the vision of the mission of the Methodist Church.
It boils down to how we honour the good news of the Kingdom of God through four areas of our lives:
Here's today's revelation, which I came across in my reading:
Contemplation is the action of be present in the temple.
"contemplation (n.): c. 1200, contemplacioun, 'religious musing,' from Old French contemplation and directly from Latin contemplationem (nominative contemplatio) 'act of looking at,' noun of action from past-participle stem of contemplari 'to gaze attentively, observe; consider, contemplate,' originally 'to mark out a space for observation' (as an augur does), from assimilated form of com-, here probably an intensive prefix (see com-), + templum 'area for the taking of auguries' (see temple (n.1))."
Part one, of what I'm sure will be thousands of confessions of bad habits I have... And why this one is making me think about worship.
This one isn't about my inability to regularly update my website, nor my consistency with producing coherent thoughts or words. It's not one of those deeply personal issues to do with toilet seats or nail biting. This one is all about books.
Even then I'm going to have to narrow it down, otherwise we'll be here all day. I'm not here just to confess my tendency to turn down corners of pages instead of reaching for a bookmark, nor my habit of buying books based on recommendations knowing full well that my "to read" list is more than long enough, nor my tendency to start umpteen books at once.
This one is about my inability to finish a book...
This morning's sermon for my trial service to become a Methodist Local Preacher "On Trial".
While I have been preaching for a while, I'm not officially qualified to preach within the Methodist Church. This is the second level (should I pass following reflection on today's service.).
Tried to do something different with this one. No point in staying with what's safe, or sticking to what I'm good at... The chance for feedback was too good!
"Subject: Merry Christmas”
That’s how the email started…
… And I’ll admit that my heart sank a little.
I’m of the opinion that Christmas doesn’t start until the first Sunday of Advent, and even then I am not convinced that it has really sunk in until I hear “Fairytale of New York” played in public.
The reason for today’s email was to ask for some thoughts on my favourite Christmas song/carol for sharing:
It was a simple enough question really.
"In Jesus' encounter with the woman of Samaria at the well, what does Jesus mean when he talks of worshipping 'in spirit and in truth'? What does that look like for us?"
"Flattery will get you anywhere..." ... Always worth trying I guess.
"A smile that could light up the whole town..." ... Why thank you!
"He could sell water to a drowning man..." ... It's all about the patter.
But it wasn't my flattery, gorgeous smile or patter that worked today...
My first instrument is the drums. I've been playing for nearly 20 years I reckon, and while there's room for improvement, I'm not bad even if I do say so myself.
The thing is, I know my strengths. I know that my style and my playing isn't cut out for the big stages and the big crowds. I can pull it off briefly, but sooner or later I'd get caught out for what I am... And I think what I am is a small-room worship drummer.
The key, I've always been taught and stand by to this day, to being a good worship drummer is to know what to play, to know when to play, to feel the room and to sense what is going on.
You could apply it to any musical instrument really.
A day of prayer and fasting today with my churches.
Each church had representatives covering their slots in the day, and at lunch time and at the end of the day wehad gatherings for those who were able to come together.
In preparation for these gatherings I came across a hymn I don't think I knew before... it says a lot about prayer though.
What jumps out at you?
Here's the latest song I've been working on, inspired by the journey of a friend. I sang it at church as part of this morning's service. (I stole the verses from an old hymn that I've never known by George Washburn Lyon, which is now in the public domain, and there's an accompanying tune which will be shared at some point.)
Remarcable is one man blogging about Youth Work, Theology, Family, Life and those other random things that come to mind.