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.

Nursery Rhymes and Cotton Wool

Perhaps my most daunting task as a local minister is to go in to the local high school from time to time to conduct morning assemblies for some or sometimes for all of the pupils. That means speaking to between 150 and 700 young people plus a number of their teachers. I usually have around 7 minutes to say something that I hope will actually make them think about the things of eternity, the truth about who Jesus really is, and the certainty that they too, need a Saviour. I realise that the opportunity to even say such things in a state school is a real privilege, not shared by many countries, but I find the task truly daunting. In addition, this is one tough crowd. On my first few visits I could almost hear the hairs bristling as I walked in. I found I had to steel myself in much the same way as I must prior to jumping into the lake in mid-March; the urge to run away to the quiet cosiness of a log fire, a cup of tea and solitude is sometimes almost overpowering. Nevertheless, just as I keep jumping into the lakes, so I keep going back into the lion's den of the high school assembly.

The more I communicated with the young people there, and the more I listened to "how you need to reach young people" the more I realised that there was something very sadly wrong somewhere. I was being advised "not to say anything controversial", "don't be overly spiritual" and of course, "just say something general that might make them think a bit". All this very sincere advice  gave me the overwhelming sense of being already defeated, and having to apologise for the sad fact that I was getting in the way of everybody's day with some trite platitude that had all the cut and thrust of cold rice pudding. Even that's being overly generous because I love rice pudding.

So I chose to ignore the advice.

I talked about sin. I talked about abandoning ones life to a God who deserves our worship. I told them about my stepping off a cliff in the middle of a Norwegian night. I told them about how we believe in God even when the world is full of suffering and pain, and how we are meant to handle injustice in society. I talked about being selfish and how Christians have an answer for all that; an answer that I have found neither in any other religion nor in a non-faith environment. I did not say this all at once you understand. It was over the space of the past couple of years!

Here are a few of the comments I have received recently concerning my assemblies, in no particular order:

• I want everyone to listen very carefully to what Russell is about to say, because it is always thought-provoking, challenging and really interesting when he comes here.
• My friends and I really enjoyed your assembly this week. We talked about what you said a lot.
• I am so sorry to have missed your assembly yesterday. I really enjoy it when you come.
• Alright mate? (that means hello in parts of Great Britain, in case you were wondering). You're the bloke that speaks at our school aren't you? Well cool! N.B. This was the same young man that used to swear at me from across the street.
• Assemblies are usually really boring. Yours are ace!
• I really enjoyed what you said today. It was quite inspirational.
• Perhaps you shouldn't be quite so challenging.
• I do not think that the children will have followed what you said. You said too much. It needs to be simpler.

Now, just bear in mind, the first six comments were from young people and adults, none of whom are churched, and none of whom claim to be Christian. The last two are from Christians.

I think I know whose opinions I need to listen to, in order to be relevant to a world that needs to hear who Jesus really is, and what it is really like to be a Christian.

Please be clear, I am in no way trying to bull myself up. I am simply saying, young people and unchurched people do not, on the whole, need cotton wool and sweeties when it comes to discussion topics. They want to know what you believe and why you believe it.

And they want you who claim Christ to be passionate and dynamic about it.

So, Christian, how about it? And as for you non-Christians, go ahead, ask some hard questions, and keep asking them till a Christian steps up and starts having a really good dialogue with you. If you cannot find any, try me. I might not be able to answer you, but I will try to find someone who can.

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.

Paradox in Practice

 I have mentioned in an earlier post that I sometimes find the Roe doe cull rather unpleasant. In order to keep the population under control, I have to cull a number of breeding females. At times they have what is termed "followers", which are immature offspring, and these, although they are fully weaned still hang out with their mother and seem to rely on her to teach them the ropes of survival and how best to become a really good Roe deer. If they are orphaned at this stage they will almost certainly survive, but they often exhibit signs of distress, and orphaned kids I have come across (usually through road traffic accidents or collisions with fences), even though they were fine physically, were often behaving strangely and somehow, as a colleague once said, "looked like little lost souls", bewildered and unsure of what to do. Therefore my unpleasant task is to shoot the followers first before then aligning the cross hairs on the mother. Some say kill the mother first as the kids are less likely to run at the noise of the rifle. "Boo! Bad form!" says I! Don't do it unless you really, really have to. If the mother runs she will be fine; if the kid runs, the situation I have just described happens, and it will be your fault.

Now, seen from one point of view, my killing of deer is nothing more than a legalised satiating of some perverse blood lust; merely the brutish desire to cause the death and suffering of the innocent. I mean, let's face it, the hunters in Bambi were such hideous brutes weren't they?

I can actually sympathise with that point of view. I really can. Until, that is, you first see the emaciated body of a deer that is starving to death. You see, there are no wolves in this country, no bears to predate on young, old, or infirm deer, and so the "wolf", the chief predator that now pursues our 6 native species of deer in the UK, is starvation. Starvation takes weeks to achieve population control, sometimes longer. A (decent) deer stalker does the job in a second or two, often less. And he selects the best beast to take, for the good of the remainder of the population (if he or she is worth their salt that is). Humans messed up the ecology of this island by hunting the predators to extinction. We must now take the responsibility of fixing the artificial situation we created in the countryside by using artificial means.

I am one of those artificial means! This is me, the Pastor, in some of my alternative work clothes:

All of the above reasoning sounds very clinical and scientific. It's almost as if I do this part of my life out of pure altruism, often with a sinking feeling and a heavy heart. But here is my problem:

I love it. I love hunting. I love the pursuit, the stealthy stalk, the aligning of the sights on the vital area, and I really love the sound of a big calibre rifle going off (it's called the report and it is more invigorating to me than the sound of the finest orchestra!)  

So the paradox that exists is clear: I genuinely love to see deer and I find it difficult to cull some of them at times, but I still thoroughly enjoy it all as well. This certainly does present me with a conundrum, a bit of a difficulty. Why don't I stalk them with a camera instead, some ask. Using a camera simply does not excite me the same way as using my .30-06. From one angle the responsible countryman sees the need to control a species that no longer has natural predators, culling them for the greater good of the remaining population and for the countryside as a whole. At the same time, the atavistic nature of the hunter is only satiated by the thrill of the chase and the successful killing of a beast. The excitement and adrenaline surge is far more enjoyable than merely harvesting venison (which is my favourite repast by the way). Some call it hypocrisy, arguing that one side of this conundrum must be wrong. Happily, though, as a paradox, both can co-exist. Indeed, the tension that exists between the two viewpoints can actually feed and help the other to maintain a healthy balance. It demonstrates to me that I have a real compassion along with my zeal for adventure; a self-control to go along with my excitability.

So there you have it. Find yourself a responsible deer stalker and an avid hunter in one person and you have a walking, talking example of a paradox.

One of the greatest paradoxes is of course the one of how a God who loves with an everlasting love, who sent His Son to die for all of mankind, could ever be so harsh as to condemn people to the fires of hell forever. It is one of the most hotly contested issues that is ever raised when Christianity is first mentioned, and is almost invariably raised as an objection to God in general, and to Christianity in particular. 

So let me ask you a question. As I explained my little conundrum about deer stalking, did it not at least start to make sense, how both attitudes can exist together? If you have no previous experience of deer stalking or management of the countryside, did the explanation I gave not at least start to make sense of a difficult issue, and perhaps change your view, bring in a smidgen of doubt, or at least alter your perception a little? Now, imagine if you spent the same amount of time listening to how the seemingly double standards of God might actually not be quite so impossible to reconcile as you previously thought. And if you are coming from the angle of a Christian, how often do you take the time to try to understand the nature of this difficulty that non-believers have, and try to put yourself in their shoes and answer them with simplicity, openness, frankness and honesty? One of the most endearing responses, so I am told, that I give to people quite frequently is "I don't know", but for some reason Christians rarely give it, apparently!

I feel good about my attitude to deer stalking, complete with the difficulties. I feel great about my relationship with a God Who I often do not understand. But if I cannot figure Him out, that in itself gives me cause for relief and peace; it means He is too big to fathom, and so He is big enough to be completely relied upon. Have a think about it. Post a comment if you like. About God, deer or shooting. I don't mind!

Ah, one man, his (fairly) obedient dog, and another walk in the dawn woods, rifle slung, dawn chorus in full bloom, and the Roebuck starting to feed his way toward you...so long as you see him first! Life makes sense, for a while at least.

Starting Points

It has been rather cold and snowy recently, with some excellent days of freeze and thaw, which makes for good ice conditions in the mountains. Good if you like climbing that is. I went out earlier this week for a mountain walk, along with a friend and his group of clients. It was to be a long, fairly steep walk in places, but a very straight-forward day out, taking in England's highest peak, Scafell Pike.

Grand. A walk in the mountains in full winter conditions. Great fun; dead easy; what could possibly go wrong?

My boots were misbehaving and the integral gaiters in my salopettes were obstructing my view to sort out my laces. Basically I couldn't put my boots on. No problem though: I could hear the chatter of voices nearby indicating the group had not yet set off. I treated myself to a quick bite of hill fuel and slowly emerged from behind the car to join the rest of the team.

The team which had long since departed. The voices I had heard were those of the farmer, accompanied by the babbling stream nearby. They could not be more than a couple of minutes ahead I surmised, so I dashed through the farm yard expecting to see the tail-ender merely a couple of hundred yards away.

Seeing no-one anywhere puzzled rather than alarmed me. Following this initial debacle I legged it over the footbridge, and, spurred on after hearing a shout higher up the mountain, I stepped up a gear and strode up the tiringly snowy path. Being an expert tracker (Hmmm...) I could see a number of fresh tracks, even dog tracks of the size made by Pippa, so I knew I would soon catch up, make my excuses and apologies and get on with the day.

Ten minutes later, having run out of tracks and examining a view devoid of any humans I took out my map, and decided to plan a route which would intersect a point where I knew we had all intended going. It was only then that I found that my map started just a little South of where I was actually standing.

No possibility of navigating an intercept route. No chance of finding a real path, and absolutely no chance of meeting up again with the team.

What a twit.

I did try to circumnavigate the hill I was on, and kept trying to find good vantage points from where I would surely catch a glimpse of someone. All I succeeded in doing was to become increasingly tired as I cut into the soft snow with my boots, and on occasion having to concentrate rather too hard on avoiding some pretty serious consequences should I have lost my footing (consequences like broken limbs, plural, or worse). Of course, as a Christian minister I never once became frustrated or evenly slightly fed up. And of course because I have such a sense of value, being in Christ and all that, I never once felt foolish for taking too long to put my boots on, and then not knowing which flaming footpath I was meant to start out from.

Yeah right.

So as I loitered back at the cars a couple of hours later, something took shape in my fiendish preacher's mind: It's all about starting points. If you get that wrong, if you do not know the actual fact of where you start from, then you have no chance of continuing the journey and certainly no chance of achieving the right end point. Here are some erroneous starting points that will really land you in the mire:

• There is no God therefore just do what seems right to you. 
• All roads lead to Heaven so follow whatever you want, as we all end up in the same place in the end anyway.
• God exists to make me happy. Therefore if I am not happy it is His job to sort it all out. Otherwise I have a right to be angry with Him.
• Because of all the bad things in the world that means either God is not there or He is a rotten swine.
• There is nothing that exists that we cannot see, feel or touch. There is no spiritual realm.
• Hell does not exist. A loving God would never send anyone to hell. He's just too nice.
• God would never ask me to do something that I did not like doing.
• I have certain rights. If God is a loving God He will allow me to fight for my rights.
• Evangelism is someone else's job. It's just not my calling.

Boy, I could go on all day. I would welcome a bunch more if you want to comment. So as a minister, here are a few of my Starting Points. I say them not to offend or make people take sides, but I merely want to point out a few things that I believe are real fundamentals, true cornerstones of my Christian faith and daily walk. It's not exhaustive, but addresses a few of the points raised above:

• Of course there is a God. You can't have order inventing itself out of chaos, and you cannot have design without a designer. 
• A loving God must hate. He must hate evil, He must hate what is contrary to His character, and a Holy God must hate all that is not Holy. To do otherwise would make Him unholy. And that would never do now, would it?
• The end of all things is the glory of God, not the happiness of man. Man exists to glorify God, whether we like it or not. God does not exist to make man happy. Jesus will be worshipped by everything that has ever existed, once He returns to claim that which He has paid for. Love it or hate it, there it is.
• As a Christian I have one right. Only one right. It is found in John's gospel chapter 1 verse 12, "But as many as received Him to them He gave the right to become children of God, even to those who believe in His name." Everything else, everything, is a bonus: health, money, happiness, family, career, you name it. Joy, however, is a promise, if we focus our minds on eternal things, rather than on the here and now.
• As Christians our lives should focus on Jesus all day, every day, and that is the best evangelism in the world. If you claim Christ and yet do not reflect Him in your life in some way, if you never have conversations that bring Him up and what He is doing in your life with those that do not claim Him, than I have to challenge the nature of your "Christianity". Ask yourself this: "How has Jesus changed me forever this year?" If you have no answer, be very concerned and start a conversation with Him to find the answer.

I need to stop. I am preaching, I know. But if you  were lying in the snow next to a car for over 4 hours wishing you were not such an incompetent twit, and hoping your feet would not hurt any more from the cold, then perhaps you would start to preach to yourself for a while as well.