How it all started...

As a preacher, public speaking is very much a way of life for me. I have been asked to speak this Friday evening at a local cafe, to share the story of how I became a Christian. I have done this many times before, in schools, churches, even at a couple of annual dinners as the guest speaker. The story I have is an interesting one and I have yet to find anyone, Christian, atheist or somewhere in between that didn't at least find the story thought-provoking, challenging, exciting, or at least different. The difference this time is that folk are paying to be there. They are shelling out their hard-earned cash to come and listen to me speak. Thankfully there is food laid on as part of the package but notwithstanding that, I feel rather uncomfortable about it.

It's not that people should not pay for a meal, nor that they should not pay to go somewhere to be entertained. They know who is speaking so there are no surprises in store. I am not the "mystery" guest speaker (who would doubtless remain a mystery to most long after he had spoken, sat down and gone home). So what is it that rankles? Simply that I do not like to charge for sharing a story that is designed to lead people towards a relationship with Jesus Christ, or to help deepen a relationship that has already started. It smacks of some sleazy televangelist proffering the credit card numbers to his TV audience while he indulges himself in more witty quips about how his big buddy in the sky has made him rich. Perhaps I am overstating it a little, but I am sure you see my point.

I am also aware that the full story of what I will be talking about will be available for purchase in the bookshop or on-line after next month, and there is a link on this blog to highlight that fact. So my purpose here is to give a brief synopsis to all those who will not be hearing me on Friday night, and who have no intention of buying the full version anytime soon. At least this way I might feel a bit less mercenary.

This is me 25 years ago:

What was I thinking wearing big plastic boots and carrying ice axes when there is no snow in sight? In one word: workout. Everything was about getting fitter, stronger and better. That was my life, and the mantra that I lived by was, "if you put the work in, you get the result out". If I worked hard enough I was invincible; I could not fail. I started climbing because I had tried other sports and they did not satisfy. Climbing brought a new dimension to extreme workouts; it introduced me to the world of the adrenaline junkie and I was hooked from the first fix. It was all about climbing harder, working harder and overcoming every obstacle along the way, no matter what form it took. I felt good being defined as a mountaineer. It was who I was, not merely what I did.

I went on an expedition to Norway with a close friend and two of his climbing pals. We did quite a lot of big wall climbing, and for a novice at least, I was becoming quite good. I had a blend of physical strength and absolute determination that enabled me to climb, in effect, well above my pay grade. Unfortunately big forearms and self-belief do not help when for example, you find yourself off route in the pitch black with the rain coming down. Oh, and you are over 1,000ft above the ground.
And did I mention it was a sheer rock face.
I had also forgotten my head torch so I was effectively blind. My mate had forgotten his as well. Decidedly inconvenient.
So we had to abseil the whole way down in the pitch black.
Being the more experienced climber my mate went ahead of me and started to abseil further down the crag, and promptly disappeared in a flurry of sparks down the mountainside accompanied by the crashing sound of boulders. I called his name for a while but he was missing, presumed dead.
I also omitted to say, the 8" wide ledge I was sitting on started to give way because it was rotten granite and my weight was causing it to crumble.
Oh, and finally I should point out, I had no rope because it was stuck, jammed in some root higher up as we had tried to abseil diagonally across the wet, slippery rock...in the pitch black.
Actually, that was not finally, because then I climbed across the blank wall of wet rock, in the pitch black, with no rope and no torch and no experienced climbing buddy.
And then I stopped, turned around...and stepped off.
Did I say I was 1,000ft up a sheer rock wall?

Just prior to that little climb across the blank wall, in absolute desperation and bereft of hope, I had had a little chat with the God I erstwhile had not believed in. I decided the following day that He had proved Himself to me, and that demanded a response. My response was a life dedicated to serving Him.

So that is my story. Or at least it is the start of my story as one who claims Jesus Christ as his Saviour and Lord.

Now at least you do not have to go to a cafe in Kendal this Friday to hear about it (in a little more detail). Nor do you have to go and buy a copy of my book Over the Top, which comes out in April.

But please feel free to do either or both. You would be most welcome.

Standing on Promises, and Slippery Rocks

The oft-quoted outdoorsman's psalm says this:

I will lift up my eyes to the mountains;
From whence shall my help come?
My help comes from the LORD,
Who made heaven and earth.
He will not allow your foot to slip;
He who keeps you will not slumber. (Psalm 121:1-3)

Which means of course, that if I recite this little ditty every time I go out into the hills, then I simply cannot encounter any catastrophe. Indeed, I will be rendered immune from any harm, if I merely believe that God will not allow my foot to slip. Conversely, it follows that if I neglect to recite the rhyme, then I deserve all I get and heaven help me because I will undoubtedly fall and break myself in half; and it will be my own fault for not rubbing my rabbit's foot of scripture before I set out on the hill.

I was in just such a predicament yesterday, as I loaded the deer carcass on to my shoulder, slung the rifle across my back, and headed carefully down the very steep, damp, wooded slope back towards the path. One step onto a pretty innocuous-looking piece of moss, and suddenly whoosh! the moss was stripped off the underlying rock, my foot flew into the air, and my right knee then crashed on to the edge of the same rock, complete with the added weight of the deer and my rifle.

There I was, in the middle of nowhere, knee swelling by the second and nauseated by the shock and the pain. All I thought  was, "there's no way I am leaving this carcass behind. I want the meat". It took a few minutes to compose myself, and a couple more to get on my feet again and load myself up. I then spent the best part of an hour mincing my way back to the car, before cold-sweating myself back home, in between growls and gritted teeth.

Unfortunately for my ego, the hospital told me there was no fracture. I didn't care at the time as I was stuffed full of Co-codamol (which by the way is a simply marvellous invention. I can scarcely believe that it is not illegal). Sitting here now, though, with a very stiff and sore leg and without the benefit of prescription euphoria, it seems fitting to look at what it means to "stand on God's promises" when circumstances seem to contradict them.

When I was fairly new to all this Christianity stuff, I misinterpreted speakers a number of times, and thought pretty much along the lines I have described above. That is, if I recite a line of the Bible and furrow my brow to "believe" it for myself, then God simply must come through for me. As I became more mature I found out two things: firstly, this is a miserable way of living, full of disappointment, and secondly, there are many out there who actually do advocate such a style of religion. I hope they learn to live with disappointment.

I do not put my faith in one-liners out of the Bible. Anyone can make the Bible, taken out of context, say whatever they like, whatever is most convenient or whatever will support their own point of view. What I find much more useful is reading God's word in order to find out who He really is. Once I know who someone is, then what they do, or how they behave, is of secondary importance. True, there are many promises given in the Bible, but for the main part they are promises about God being faithful to His word, about Him being reliable, loving, righteous, caring. ie. about His character and how that relates to us. This to me, is much more satisfying and reliable than grasping at words that I just want to be true for my daily well-being or pleasure. More importantly, it avoids the extreme difficulty of trying to explain how God protects some, or blesses some, and seemingly inexplicably, not others. If Christians project an image of a "rabbit's foot God" they will always develop an image of a God who is arbitrary in His affections, who has certain favourites and who cannot be relied upon. That is not who He is, and I would dread trying to explain myself to Him when we meet, should I have been projecting such a false image.

I don't put my faith in a God who must always keep me out of trouble, nor do I put it in "words" that I "claim" as my own. I put my faith in the God of scripture, in who He is, as is revealed in His Word. Too often Christians are as superstitious as those who need to get their horoscope fix each day. We pick and choose verses that make us feel good. It is important for us to throw away such childish trinkets and find the Person behind the words. He is completely trustworthy, and as we choose to live in close communion with Him we will know that firm footing and that clear guidance each day.

Even when our knee hurts and the swelling has kicked in!

Living with an eternal perspective

It is snowing outside as I write this and as I was walking the lads earlier, the cutting wind caused my eyes to stream as I looked out from the top of my local vantage point at the outlying Lakeland hills: The Old Man of Coniston, Bowfell, the Langdale Pikes all dusted with pristine white, beckoning the winter walker and mountaineer to their playground of choice. It looks like there is rain mixed with this present flurry of flakes so I doubt it is time to reach for the ice axes, unfortunately.

In the garden our faithful old ex-battery hen, Henrietta has produced her daily egg despite her advancing years.  Meet Henrietta:

A feisty girl, who will stand up to the antics of Maximus until he beats a hasty retreat. She has rarely missed a day even when the temperature dropped well below freezing last month, and even when our proud little silky bantam cockerel (that's a rooster to all you guys over the Pond) dared not set foot out of the hen house. The Aylesbury ducks have continued to lay, and even the youngsters have been regularly producing their beautiful white, albeit miniature, eggs for us. This is never going to to be a net earner, but I still get a kick out of producing even a little of our own food.

My job this afternoon is to butcher two Roe deer that I harvested last week. They have been hanging in my cold room (a fridge previously used in a supermarket to store soft drinks) for four days and are ready now to be jointed, frozen or handed out to a few eager friends. It is strange that my family tends to dine out of necessity on the things that many consider luxury items: duck eggs, free range duck, and venison. I am not complaining. This lifestyle has also produced in my girls what I see as a very healthy approach to the gathering of food. My younger in particular relishes looking on as I prepare a deer carcass, looking forward to her favourite venison steaks. She also asked me recently, quite innocently, "when are we going to kill one of the ducks? I am really looking forward to roast duck".

We are all influenced in our attitude by what is happening around us at any given time. As I reflect on my current lifestyle, I am acutely aware that it is filled with anomalies, with those paradoxes I have mentioned on earlier posts. From one perspective our lives here, out in the Lake District "boonies", is quite difficult and we are constrained by a lack of many things that others would call necessities. On the other hand, many would fight me to the death for all that I have, including the many perks mentioned above. How these influences affect the way we choose to live our lives depends I believe, on our perspective, on how we process our situation.

The apostle Paul wrote in his letter to the Philippians, " I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am. I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need." (Philippians 4:11-12). The secret to this complete peace in every circumstance can be encapsulated in the phrase used in the book of Hebrews: "...let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith..." Paul saw Christ wherever he looked, even when all he could see was the prison cell that held him captive, and the guard who was chained to him. So often he spoke of being joyful, being filled with thanksgiving and joy at all times, even when his circumstances literally stank, and when the prospect of death was a daily and a very real threat.

I find it hard at times when I cannot have some things that others might take for granted. Things like fuel for the car, new clothes for my girls, possibly a cup of coffee out with my wife. I am more challenged when people say to me, "look at all you have: a beautiful house in the Lake District, your own hunting grounds, space to rear some livestock, quality of life and safety for your children..." It is not a challenge because I have it. It is more a challenge because I need to be sure, that at God's call I could let it go on the same day He asked me for it without looking back. I must know, absolutely know, that He was asking for it for my own good and that of those I love. It would never be merely to take away something I enjoyed just because He could, or just so that I don't get too comfortable. To process such things correctly I must constantly fix my eyes on Jesus. I need to know His character, that His motives for everything are always pure, and always right. I must always make sure that I look toward the things of eternal value and never for the things of the here and now.

And amongst all that I still have to get on with things in the here and now. That means, for the present, having no other possibilities, I will spend my day collecting eggs, butchering deer, walking and training dogs and preparing my next sermon. I know, I have probably just written my next sermon.

Oh, and sharing my life on a blog.