Limited atonement means limited Gospel

Sorry to go all theological, but this Sunday I attended an independent Baptist Church and experienced a quite different place on the theological spectrum.

I found there a great deal to admire - quite a few very normal looking people pace ones stereotype of Reformed Baptists (assuming one has one); a warm and comfortable building which must have been quite a stretch for what is relatively small congregation to purchase; several very positive points of engagement with the local community e.g. a Sunday School in an area of local deprivation a commitment to servant ministry in at least two old people's homes; a number of more traditional hymns, including one on the incarnation to the tune 'Morning has broken' which I'd never heard before but must track down; a varied and keen programme of events during the week which included a meal provided by the church's international students and, finally, a friendliness and hospitality towards the visitor, that is, me. They even had unfairly traded coffee, what more can I say?!

So what's not like to like? Well there's nothing wrong with a bit of angularity, its quite endearing these days given the 'namby pamby' climate that pervades much church life, but, on reflection what's not to like is the subtle and sometimes not so subtle insistence that they are right and everybody else is wrong. Everything appears to be sewn up and there is one point only of authority. Naturally and rightly this is the bible, but the bible as refracted through, at the level of principle, one tradition and, at the level of practice, one man, that is the man at the front leading the service and delivering the message.

Listening to the sermon, prayers and notices during the service and reading through the blurb afterwards, I gained the distinct impression that God's purpose in the world is focused more or less exclusively on the church with little room for anything or anyone else beside. And the reason? Augustine, of course, or rather Augustine as misrepresented and misunderstood by those who came later (though not, on my understanding, John Calvin). As the title makes clear, limited atonement really does means limited Gospel.

By the way, you'll have to work out the picture above for yourselves. Take a deep breath, then follow the dark line down....

Every time I throw away you take a piece of me with you... with apologies to Paul Young

Moving house has proved emotional in every sense. Leaving our home of over fifteen years and the familiar routine we have established there. Leaving the street and the people we have come to know there. Leaving the locale of the church building where you feel involved in all that is going on. Leaving the organised chaos of the old house for the disorganised chaos of the new.

Of course there is an 'upside' to this: a bigger house (on which see the BLOG Thou shalt not covet - forthcoming); more parking space; no urgent requests to, for example, provide IT or other support to sundry church meetings, unblock a toilet or counsel someone in distress; no homeless persons as yet - though we have supplied contact details to our most regular visitor etc etc.

The hardest thing, as implied by the title, is to relive and then relinquish so many happy memories, not least those associated with our four children.

This has been Lizzie and Joe's only home and Martha's and James's since they were two and six months respectively. James's and Joe's room still has the original decorations complete with Winnie the Pooh transfers hidden behind the bunk beds.





Through the soon to be demolished landing window it is possible to view the garden where they have spent so many happy hours, particularly before PS3 and wet summers.



Behind every now abandoned radiator and under every now removed sofa lies the fossilised evidence of what has been transacted in this home. Missiles and small toy soldiers abandoned on the battlefield. Crucial bits of Lego long searched for and items of play jewellery that once enthralled. Scooby Do birthday badges and felt tipped pens and much else besides.

Finally, hardest of all, there are the items that have to be consigned to the bin or charity shop. Yesterday, I lingered long over an Action Man watch tower James and I had made about six or seven years ago from an Amazon box and sticks collected from Abney. Should it be kept for posterity like so much else that fills our garage or should it be skipped? With a lump in my throat I opted for the latter.



What does all this mean? It means that we are mortal and that for all of us time is available in a strictly limited quantity. Intimations of this are naturally painful. It means that we are strangers in this world and long for a home that is permanent and from which we will never be asked to leave. Why not read the Letter to the Hebrews and you'll understand?

A blog about this blog

A few quick points

Firstly, the order in which you view the Blog is not necessarily the order in which it has been written as sometimes I go back to events later on having given them thought and consideration. So, if you like the Blog, why not look back over the weeks for items you may have missed.

Secondly, the blogger is caught between wanting things to look there best and so spending too much time 'gold plating' and doing things 'on the hoof' and so introducing multiple typos. Hence I often rush things out and then edit and correct later on. Please note, though, logophiles, that I am not aiming at perfection.

Thirdly, some time back I read an item by John Piper saying that all ministers should blog. At the time I felt that was to take oneself and one's role a little too seriously (on this note, the subject of a future blog will be to consider the argument that Christians, and Christian ministers in particular, have rendered the ground sterile by all our words) Better, that all Christians or maybe all people should blog is as much as it facilitates honesty and friendship as well as an archive for future thought and hopefully wiser action.

Strange goings on at Eight o'clock communion

In one of Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes stories, 'Silver Blaze', there occurs the mysterious case of the dog that didn't bark. My visit to church last weekend also featured a Vicar's dog that didn't bark or, in fact, do anything at all until after the service had ended when he trotted cheerfully down the aisle. It came as a surprise to me, but no one else present as this is all part of the routine. I'll leave the other strange 'going on' to the end.

As time was pressing due to the house move I had opted for an 8 o'clock service and, generally speaking, I found it helpful. Lots of silence before and during - a luxury not usually afforded to me and very appropriate for the start of Lent. The ten commandments in full. People kneeling for prayer (when was the last time you saw that?!) All this added to the atmosphere and was, I'm sure, appreciated by the twenty or so mainly elderly people present that morning.

A couple of deeper issues were framed for me. Firstly, the pros and cons of tailored services. Eight o'clock communions originally served the purpose of allowing domestic servants and those who had to work on Sunday's to get to church and for some reason have continued to serve a purpose, presumably for the reasons outlined above as well as others besides.

Secondly, the place of individualism. Not, in this context, of the more pietistical flavour as explored in the hymns, say Fanny Crosby, or the modern songs to which I have previously referred, but of a more robust and, if I'm honest, somewhat more austere and clinical flavour. Nothing wrong with either sort, I'm sure, as long as such worship forms part of a more balanced diet of more genuinely corporate worship and a lively engagement with one's Christian brothers and sisters.

And the other strange 'going on'? The two readings were followed by... nothing, not even a two minute thought. That absence did not invalidate all else about the service, but it did leave aside one vital ingredient - an explanation and application of God's word with an encouragement to think about it and practice it. Now that really is strange!

The strategic importance of asparagus

Just returned from visiting soldiers from my Regiment, 33 Signals (V), deployed on Op Tosca an operation which represents the British Army's contribution to the UN peacekeeping force in Cyprus

This is the first ever (?) TA only deployment and is designed to relieve pressure on regular forces as well as test the mettle of the reserves. Although a benign environment, the UN buffer zone is still located between two heavily militarised areas which means that, without supervision, the current stand off could quickly escalate into something more serious. Presumably not all out war though as Turkey is, like Greece, a member of NATO and perhaps more importantly aspires to membership of the EU.

Stationed in the Ledra Palace Hotel, which was evacuated at the height of the 1974 crisis, 32 Signal Group comprises more than 20 cap badges taken from a large number of units. The lead Regiment is Scottish and based in Glasgow and is a sister Signals Regiment to 33. The hotel, in spite of having recently been kitted out by Ikea, is not in the best of states. Many rooms are in a poor condition, with toilets and showers out of operation and the extra goodies that the Army promised the boys and girls e.g. WiFi have not materialised. There are, I'm glad to say, several messes, a bar and a sizeable gym, but this a house of fun this isn't.

What of the mission itself? The Brits monitor one of three sectors, the other two being managed by the Argentinians and the Hungarians. It takes in the divided city of Nicosia and the surrounding countryside. The signs of the 1974 conflict are everywhere, not least in the city itself where streets have lain empty for nearly forty years with abandoned shops, cafeterias and even a car showroom with several delivery mileage Toyota Corollas still on display.

Only one pedestrian crossing point exists and that is recent. St Sophia's Cathedral is now a mosque with minarets added. Its the first one I've ever entered - minus shoes of course.



Greek and Turkish OP's are everywhere throughout the zone in some places almost touching and are easily identifiable by the ubiquitous flags and although there is little outright aggression, there is a great deal of petty 'tit for tat' with constant minor violations of the agreed codes with the UN somewhat hamstrung in its potential responses.

Finally, some examples of the prevailing mentality, past and present.

- most spectacularly, the Turkish flag located on the hillside opposite the town which was constructed by students painting rocks in the appropriate colours over a period of days and then turning these over all at once one night. Its even illuminated! (see pictures below - Ne mutlu Türküm diyene! is a famous quote taken from Atatük's nutuk that is widely used in any nationalistic contexts. It means: "How happy is he who can say ‘I am a Turk". In other words, 'Up yours')




















- ten brick wall where, originally, the UN a painted a line on a wall to prevent the Turks adding bricks. The only problem was that they kept removing the painted row and then adding others underneath! The answer? Place the line ten bricks down hence the name.

- a new housing development where the Greek builder had constructed what appear to be concrete bunkers at the corners and gun ports at the base. Various attempts to screen these with earth deposited by the UK monitors in the night were soon removed and so several ISO containers have been dropped there since.

- tea chest corner where a barricade had been built using, funnily enough tea chests which, when filled with concrete, can form quite an effective defence. The Turks had turned the chests with the bottom facing out and so there was no way of knowing if they were solid or not. As a result the UN ordered that they be turned around. Unfortunately, they didn't specify a timescale and so they were placed the correct way round at the rate of one per week!

And the asparagus? That grows freely in the buffer zone and is keenly sought by the local Greek population. During my visit we escorted quite a number of these out of the area. Surely, you might have thought, after thirty four years they might have come to acknowledge the buffer and the presence of the UN, but evidently not. And so it goes on.

Note: Memo to self - re-write will before next flying with the RAF

Unperterbed by the two and a half hour delay made in order to accomodate the 'late arrival of priority passengers' we were finally on our way to the aircraft. Past the leased 757, past the row of Lockheed Tristars, down to the group of even more aged VC 10's. A brief wait in the coach. Then the Flight Lieutenant who was the Captain came to address us. We've only got one serviceable aircraft and that's not working though we're trying to fix it. Clearly they're not called VC's for nothing, for at that precise moment my courage started to falter.

Eventually we were ushered on board to be greeted by a standard of décor and levels of wear and tear that would have made Jim Royle proud.

And then the the coup de grace - we were going backwards! An optical illusion caused by the fuel tanker moving away? A slight re-positioning of the plane? No, the seats in VC 10's all face away from the cockpit. Hence the most bizarre take off ever from my perspective. It was enough to make even Aeroflot jealous.

Finally, and of no real importance, the ethics of seating meant that I was morally obliged to take a middle seat directly behind a child whose own seat was fully reclined. I'm not sure then which is the most likely to finish me - the 40 year old plane or DVT?!

Things can only get better.

Footnote: I am reliably informed that all RAF aircraft fly backwards for safety reasons. Maybe we should try it in church? Also all credit to the aircrew as both landings were inch perfect, in other words, no touchdown was felt.

Losing the will to live... thanks to BT

You'd have thought setting up a new phone line and broadband would be simple in this day and age - it isn't. Leaving aside the multiple question quiz you need to complete every time you ring anyone these days - especially BT - and the 'who knows where call centre' which you are eventually put through to, check this out...

In order to save the church money, I decided to migrate my Sky TV and add broadband and phone for a modest amount, leaving my Virgin phone and broadband which can't be split to service the church. Sky said, 'no problem', that only left BT to install the line which Sky utiltise to provide their service.

However, several days after placing the order on line, BT hadn't replied so I rang. May minutes went by and eventually obtained a reasonable date for installation. Then I asked the fatal question: 'How long between the line going in the the broadband being switched on?' Answer from Sky - ten working days! 'Too long', I said, and reluctantly decided to go to BT for the broadband who presumably could activate it straight away as I was now going direct. But no. Time required five working days! It was like being back pre-nationalisation.

So in the end back to Virgin who did the job on time and very well at that. Except they messed up the phones, but that's another story....