Slow to bless and quick to chide

Show me an old fashioned and probably mostly unused English Hymnal and I will say without hesitation 470 please. The hymn in question was one of my favourites when I was growing up and as a chorister was probably sung more in the wedding season than any other! The words of the hymn are here:


Praise, my soul, the King of heaven;
to his feet thy tribute bring;
ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven,
evermore his praises sing:
Alleluia, alleluia!
Praise the everlasting King.

Praise him for his grace and favor
to our fathers in distress;
praise him still the same for ever,
slow to chide and swift to bless:
Alleluia, alleluia!
Glorious in his faithfulness.

Father-like, he tends and spares us;
well our feeble frame he knows;
in his hand he gently bears us,
rescues us from all our foes.
Alleluia, alleluia!
Widely yet his mercy flows.

Angels, help us to adore him;
ye behold him face to face;
sun and moon, bow down before him,
dwellers all in time and space.
Alleluia, alleluia!
Praise with us the God of grace.

What I love most about this hymn are the words, within in each verse is a nugget that could be taken away and used. Used as a frightened daughter of an alcoholic mother who was the exact opposite of 'slow to chide and swift to bless', 'ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven' when having had to leave the military I found myself alone, penniless and in a really bad place. 'Well our feeble frame he knows; in his hand gently bears us' words that in the most awful of times I could hold onto that no matter how alone I felt or indeed feel, I am being held.

But in the last day those words have changed a little for me, for I realised that the Church in which I had sung those words and found comfort in them, was capable of  'swift to chide and slow to bless' and that the foes the Church needs to be rescued from is its own inability to 'praise...the God of grace.'

I naively expected the church to drag its cumbersome disciplinary feet for sometime about how they were going to 'deal' with a priest who committed such a terrible act as to get married to the person they loved. But no it seems in a world that is teeming with acts of genocide and in a time when half of the world's refugees are children, the church decided to flex it's waning muscles by disciplining a man whose vocation it is to walk alongside those in distress, who in his ministry as a hospital chaplain gently bears those whose feeble frames are failing. Why? Did he break the law? No, he simply married the person he loves.

Instead of bowing down in front of the church and doing the bidding of a bunch of men (because perish the thought a woman should wear purple and a silly hat), he chose to follow love. From the day of his marriage to the day of his license being removed was less than two months.
In a direct contrast the abuse of children in Chichester diocese by 2 priests was carried out over nearly 2 decades and it wasn't until 2013 the Church grown ups apologised for their failing to stop it happening.

When I wrote about my decision to step away from the Church of England after the Archbishop seemed to blame gays for the death of innocent Africans, and let's not forget that wonderfully entitled 'Pastoral guidance on same sex marriage' which to be fair was anything but pastoral, I honestly believed we had hit the bottom of the barrel. That the church of England couldn't honestly get any lower, but it seems they have drilled the bottom out of the barrel and are now merrily digging away with their hands to get even lower. I also naively thought that outside of the church they couldn't hurt me anymore, but they got me with that one - so I turn back to the words I began with, because they are not owned by the church, but owned by those who believe in a loving God, 'Well our feeble frame he knows; in his hand gently bears us'

and because I always come up as a prophet/activist in those ridiculous personality tests, a re-vamped verse of 470 -

Angels help us to ignore them;
God shows us love face to face;
sun and moon, bow down before him,
dwellers all (gay, straight, married, single, divorced, widowed, childless) in time and space
Allelulia, alleluia!
Praise with us the God of Grace (and give us just a little bit more of it in these trying times).

For those of us who are tonight pushed further into exile and a time of wandering alone, may the peace of God which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in the knowledge and love of God.

Thinking about Pentecost and my fab dad's birthday

 

Acts 2:1 – 21           

Theme  - “Extraordinary Power”

When I was a little girl, I remember coming to meet my dad off his naval ship which was in dry dock at the Swan Hunter yard on the Tyne. It was eerily quiet waiting at the top of the hill with my sister, when suddenly there was a screeching siren and out of nowhere thousands, literally thousands of men appeared and came up the road out of the gates and onto the streets. The noise was incredible, the language colourful and the energy extraordinary. My dad as usual appeared about 10 minutes after the mob had disappeared with his ear-defence still firmly clamped onto the top of his head. He had missed the siren as he had been in the depths of the ship, he had missed the noise of the crowd of men coming up the hill, all talking in their own accents and dialects but he still had his own energy, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he came up to meet us. My mind often wanders to that scene when I read the story of Pentecost, the wind, the fire, the noise, the energy, the extraordinariness of the whole thing. I guess though the clear difference between the Swan Hunter experience and the  reading  from the book of Acts that we will hear later on, is that only I and a select few have my memory of that day, where as in what happened on that Pentecost day launched not a ship but a Church, and millions of people knew and still know the story of the Holy Spirit’s extraordinary power. Amen.

 

Talking of launching ships and special days - Happy Birthday to my dad, who in a few days celebrates (in a grumpy dad not celebrating kind of way) his birthday. Thank you dad for not only launching the daughter ship, but standing by like a cross between a pilot launch and a tug boat, to guide me through the storms and the deceptive calms of the ocean that is life.