Jonah's Story - Jonah's God (reblog)

Since just after Easter I've been sharing with a small group on Zoom my reflections on the Journey of Jonah, the Preposterous Prophet. I'd like to thank all those who have shared with us, especially the friends and colleagues who have acted as "guest responders" coming along to challenge my thinking and those of others with their own questions and reflections. The series isn't over yet, but we're taking a break next week to allow people to "attend" the installation of Rev. Dr. Tom McKnight as President of the Methodist Church in Ireland. But even when we return in a fortnight's time one of the things we will look at is how the story doesn't actually have a definitive ending... And into that gap and indeed into some of what is happening at present in the USA, where I first delivered these talks as part of asummer faculty at Holden Village in Washington, I offer this poem, that I also wrote there...

The Word of the LORD came to Jonah
The capital L.O.R.D. Lord
The God who is
Rather than the God we might prefer

The Word which commanded light to be
Begins this story and all stories
That ever were
And all that are still to be written.

But will we respond to this command
Or will we just like Jonah resist?
No way Yahweh!
My story is never going there.

Is God prompting us to cross borders
And the boundaries between us and them?
Love the other
Whosoever that other might be.

Does God need to catch our attention
With sea monsters and swift growing vines
To turn us round
And reset our stories back on track?

Are we ready to change direction?
Not just to confess all our failings
But change our ways
And minds, knowing that God can change his

Or do we prefer immutable
Kings and Gods who command and control?
Do this! Go there!
Say this, think this and don’t do this!

Rather than the Word which asks questions
Wanting us to use our God given brains
And who doesn’t
Finish the story…

Selah

Comments

A Woman of no Distinction

Don't often post other people's stuff here... But I found this so powerful that I thought I should. It's a performance poem based on John 4: 4-30, and I have attached the original YouTube video below. A word for women, and men, everywhere... "to be known is to be loved, and to be loved is to be known." I am a woman of no distinction of little importance. I am a women of no reputation save that which is bad. You whisper as I pass by and cast judgmental glances, Though you don’t really take the time to look at me, Or even get to know me. For to be known is to be loved, And to be loved is to be known. Otherwise what’s the point in doing either one of them in the first place? I WANT TO BE KNOWN. I want someone to look at my face And not just see two eyes, a nose, a mouth and two ears; But to see all that I am, and could be all my hopes, loves and fears. But that’s too much to hope for, to wish for, or pray for So I don’t, not anymore. Now I keep to myself And by that

Psalm for Harvest Sunday

A short responsive psalm for us as a call to worship on Harvest Thanksgiving Sunday, and given that it was pouring with rain as I headed into church this morning the first line is an important remembrance that the rain we moan about is an important component of the fruitfulness of the land we live in: You tend the land and water it And the earth produces its abundance. You crown each year with your bounty, and our storehouses overflow with your goodness. The mountain meadows are covered with flocks and the valleys are filled with corn; Your people celebrate your boundless grace They shout for joy and sing. from Psalm 65

Anointed

There has been a lot of chatter on social media among some of my colleagues and others about the liturgical and socio-political niceties of Saturday's coronation and attendant festivities, especially the shielding of the anointing with the pictured spoon - the oldest and perhaps strangest of the coronation artefacts. Personally I thought that was at least an improvement on the cloth of gold canopy used in the previous coronation, but (pointless) debates are raging as to whether this is an ancient practice or was simply introduced in the previous service to shield the Queen from the TV cameras, not for purposes of sacredness, but understandable coyness, if she actually had to bare her breast bone in puritan 1950s Britain. But as any church leader knows, anything performed twice in a church becomes a tradition. All this goes to show that I did actually watch it, while doing other things - the whole shooting match from the pre-service concert with yer wumman in that lemon-

Virtual Methodist

Search This Blog