Degrees of separation

My husband and I attended a dinner for Anglican ministers and their spouses from our immediate region last night. Out of the 20 or so people who attended, I had at least 12 personal connections with:

• One lady who had been in a bible study with my grandmother for years.
• A couple who had originally come from the same church as my other grandmother and who had known me since I was tiny.
• A man who gave my dad a job about 15 years ago and met me before I was married.
• A woman who had been on a Moore College Mission to my dad's church in Gunnedah when I was in Year 12.
• A man who was in the same year at Bible college as my father.
• A woman who knows a girl with whom I went to school in Pakistan.
• Four people (at least) who had read the book I wrote.
• A couple who know my parents quite well and who are taking over a parish where my aunt and uncle used to work.
• One woman who asked me directly if I was related to said aunt (whom she knows), without knowing that we had any connection, just from my mannerisms.
• A couple whose daughter married the son of some friends of ours from Dapto.
• A man who I worked with a little at CMS.
• A couple who went to the same church as us over three years ago.
• There was only one person who I seemed to have no direct link with... but he was the son of one of the others!

Anglican circles are small.

Really Useful Engines

I'm not a big fan of 'Thomas the Tank Engine theology'. It happens a lot in churches. People are only valued for what they do or their level of usefulness.

On the Island of Sodor, Thomas the Tank Engine's home, the engines are for the most part happy and contented little things... as long as they are working hard and being busy, but most importantly, following the orders of the Fat Controller.

The Fat Controller is King. He runs the show and tells everyone what to do. In one of our stories, he tells Thomas to go and pick up some new carriages.

"But..." says Thomas.

And, "Really Useful Engines don't argue," says the Fat Controller sternly, and Thomas wheeshes off sulking under his breath.

The engines have little opportunity to show initiative or individuality of thought. They certainly don't take holidays. Busy is best!

Sometimes it's easy to get into Thomas mode in church, where we all obey the minister, follow orders and don't think too much. As long as we're keeping busy and doing what we're told, we're valued, by the church and by God, apparently.

To a certain extent, of course church life must be a little bit like the Island of Sodor, in that we all have gifts we can use for the good of each other. Working together is better than individually. We are a body, and we are not to be lazy, in our lives or in our salvation. The trouble comes when we forget about rest, initiative, respect for all and the fact that we are all unique.

Makes you think

I read this modern day 'parable' yesterday*.


The man lay in the street, bleeding, the hit and run driver gone. He needed medical help immediately but he kept pleading, "don't take me to the hospital please".

Surprised, everyone around asked "why not?"

"I'm on the staff at the hospital," he said. "It would be embarrassing for them to see me like this. They have never seen me bleeding and dirty. They know me as clean and healthy."

"But hospital is just the place for you. Can't we call an ambulance?" they answered.

"No, please don't. I took a pedestrian safety course and the instructor would criticise me for getting hit," he said.

"Who cares what the instructor thinks? You need medical attention," they said.

"Well, the administration clerk would be upset too," the man answered. "She always gets upset if anyone who's being admitted doesn't have all the details they need to fill out the records. I didn't see who hit me, and I don't know the make of car or licence number. She wouldn't understand. She's a real stickler for records. Worse than that, I don't have my medical insurance card."

"Why is that such a problem?" they asked.

"Well, they won't recognise me in this state, and they wouldn't let me in if I don't have the card. They must be sure it's not going to cost them anything. They protect the institution. Look, just pull me over to the curb. I'll make it some way. It's my fault I got hit. Why should the nurses get their clean uniforms dirty with me? They would criticise me."

With that, he pulled himself up and stumbled to the curb, trying to stem his own bleeding.

The question for us is this. The church is the place for healing for sinners and the sinned-against in this world. But will we help or criticise?


*quoted in a book called Healing Memories by David Seamands, but originally by Fred Smith of Dallas, Texas.

Belonging I

Ever been told that 'the best way to really belong to this church is to join a small group'?

Small groups can be great things. But did you know that across the board, only about 30 per cent of congregation members ever end up staying in them?

If they are the place in which people find 'belonging' in the church, then does that mean that the 70 per cent who don't find their place in a small group really don't belong?

Joseph Myers' book The Search to Belong has an interesting take on the whole idea of belonging. (Check out Myers' blogspace here.)

He argues that there are four 'spaces' or types of belonging. And small groups only deliver one or two specific kinds of connection. A person’s search for community is far more complex than this. People can experience belonging in groups ranging in size from 2 to 2000.

Watch this space for more on the four spaces of belonging. It's a concept I'll be bringing into my talks on friendship in July.

Repairing or replacing at church

It occurred to me that the principles I posted yesterday from the book 'Safe People' on whether to repair or replace relationships apply just as strongly to church.

Lots of people aren't happy at their churches - and often for a variety of reasons. Lots of the reasons are justified, many are not. But either way, the fact is that church is a body of people, all in relationships. And relationships should be at the core of church life.

So if you're thinking about whether to leave your church and find a new one, it would be a good idea to go through the six steps and see if your reasons for leaving are reasons that will eventually build up the body of Christ, or tear it apart.

public welcome... public humiliation

Our first official service at our new church was memorable. Mostly for everyone else. And mostly because they couldn't hear themselves think over the raucous screams of the Autistic Spectrum three year old during communion.

Yes, public humiliation was the name of the game today. Our official welcome up the front was lovely and we nearly got away with appearing like a sweet family, complete with three quite well-behaved children.

But then came communion, and daddy disappeared from three year old's view - to help up the front - just doing his job.

"Daddy? Daddy! DADDDY! WHERE's DAD?"

He couldn't have been louder if he tried - he nearly drowned out the Pie Jesu on the pipe organ. I thought I'd better take him up for communion so he could see Daddy, but he escaped up to the front, out of my reach, dodging the lovely elderly folk with walking frames and sticks who were returning from taking part in the bread and wine.

By the time I got to him, I'd mucked up the queue, and the order of the communion servers. I decided I'd better take him outside - who knows what he might have done next? - so picked him up under one arm, the baby under the other and dodged my way down the aisle again, mouthing 'sorry, sorry' to everyone I passed, all while he continued to yell at full throttle, "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! No!"

Talk about making an entrance.

It took him fully half an hour to calm down outside, most of which time he screamed in my ears as I tried to cuddle him. When finally he was happy and the service had finished, everyone I spoke to said as their opening words to me, "Don't worry. We're not worried. You don't have to be worried." Which was nice of them. But it just shows how much of a performance we actually did put on.