The Right Tool for the Job

At the risk of sounding self-indulgent I thought I would let you know about my last, very varied week. I went away for a couple of days to complete my higher level certification in deer stalking. That may sound a little odd to all you non-hunting folks out there, especially if you aren't British. I suppose it's our equivalent to the German Jaeger qualifications; an externally verified course to demonstrate competence and compliance.

It is quite detailed and the requirements are fairly stringent, very stringent if you do it all with a view to being as proficient as possible. You need to be able to demonstrate skill in getting close to deer, selecting the appropriate beast for culling purposes, shoot straight (of course), know where it was hit by observing its reaction to the shot, and then, once the animal is located and confirmed dead, you need to become an internal organ and lymph node aficionado, locating, identifying and observing any abnormalities in a host of different places. Such places include, but are not limited to, the mesenteric lymph node chain, the mediastinal lymph node, and not forgetting of course, assessing the condition of the pericardium. In short, it's all rather intense.

The really sad thing is that I was getting excited just typing all that.

So I was out of bed at 3am, that is 0300hrs, three in the morning, and drove two hours to meet my old friend Jon (a paragon of the professional deer stalker) to go out to see if we could complete my portfolio over the following couple of days.

Two days later and, almost there, we returned to complete the paperwork. It was then that I retrieved my mobile phone messages and heard a distraught voice imploring me to return the call immediately as it was a matter of life and death. Realising that the message was already 7 hours old, I pressed the green button with some considerable trepidation, convinced I would be too late to have averted the disaster that would already have happened.

Let's say, it wasn't quite as urgent or as serious as had been made out. Still, it served to give my heart a totally unnecessary jolt, for which I wish I could be thankful.

Moments later, back in deer stalker mode, I was trying to explain how I came to select that particular doe for culling (just "because it was there" doesn't cut it, even if I were Mallory).

The following evening I was doing my Chaplain bit at the local Air Training Corps. Rather than preaching to the recruits I was doing weapons training. Rather than talking about what it means to be a Christian, or even the knotty issue of how a Christian can (or cannot) take a life, I was using the terminology of the weapons instructor, explaining rimfire as opposed to centrefire, rifled barrels, muzzle energy, follow through and hold over. As I finished the instruction I was reminded, "I heard your assembly last week at school, sir." Ah yes, I thought, I am actually a minister rather than a shooting instructor.

Incorrect. I am a shooting instructor minister, as I am also a deer stalker minister, a mountain leader minister, as well as a pastor minister. The rather odd thing about this past week is that I have been so many varieties of minister in such a short period. The fact is that wherever I am, I am called to be a minister of the gospel, and that does not always involve preaching a sermon. But how do I keep that focus, that awareness, even in the midst of such detailed, consuming tasks as I was engaged in last week?

By letting God be God in the day-to-day of my life. By realising I am a tool to be used as He sees fit, not as an independent being doing it all Frank Sinatra's way. Christians can be relevant and effective in any and every situation they find themselves in if, and only if, they realise that without Christ they can do absolutely nothing. Too often we have become far too clever, and far too keen to separate the every-day from the Christian- or the church-day. The two are indivisible in genuine Christianity. Jesus is relevant to every situation, and can speak instantly and perfectly into every situation, or He is not God and the whole thing is a crock.

But He can, He always does, He is, and so it is not.

So I can hang a carcass in the larder, turn and discuss how I became a Christian, answer a telephone call and give good godly counsel to a distraught caller, commit to praying for a non-believer in financial difficulty, and then plan a sermon and teach best rifle practise all in the same day. Which is part of what I did last week.

Put another way, when I look like this:

will I still be salt and light wherever I go? And when I look like this:

Will I avoid coming across like a self-righteous impressive clergyman, out of touch with the world around me?

It all makes for a very varied and exciting life, for which I am (usually) thankful.