July is an eccentric time to make new years’ resolutions, I realise.* Still, here’s mine. A blog.
Recently, I was ordained as a priest in a weighty wonderful – albeit somewhat lengthy – service in Lewisham. Bishop Michael ordained me – a man who appears so consistently bowled over by the joy of what he’s called to do that I really think I have never seen him without a deeply grateful and slightly surprised smile.
He read this: “[Priests] are to proclaim the word of the Lord and to watch for the signs of God’s new creation”. I love this. This watching work – it’s work for an explorer, a discoverer, with binoculars and walking shoes. It’s work for a voracious film-watcher or passionate reader or an avid fan of TV dramas or theatre or sport. For a scientist peering into microscope or telescope. Someone with headphones, listening intently to cracking radio waves – or with tea, listening, as intently, to a neighbour. It’s work for a child on a treasure hunt – “Look! There! Did you miss it?!”
It’s the work of faith because the signs of God’s new creation are here, and they are here in real places. Outside Morrisons, at the overground station, in the shops.
The thing is, I can forget to look. That’s the truth of the matter. It’s all too easy to stand at the station catching up on texts, forgetting to see that the heavens are declaring the glory of God. I can head to the shops for a paper and fail to notice the signs of beautiful and sacrificial love and transformative service in the shape of a woman pushing her friend in a wheelchair, the father struggling with baby on hip and toddler by the hand. I can forget to hear the discovery of re-creation and long, slow, hard redemption in the story of a friend, submitting, all too easily, to small-talk again.
So this blog will remind me to watch. I know I need reminders.
And that (neatly) invites me to invite your comments, reminders, suggestions and disagreements. This work of watching is for us all, whoever we are. Between us, we connect the flashes of light, beauty, justice, love that we spot – now we know in part – and we start to piece together what this new creation looks like in full view – as then, when we’ll see face to face.
Binoculars out. Radio on. Jump in.
* I’m going to file this one under ‘following the one who is making all things new’.