Martha's Marvellous Munchies

There are five things you can do with your money.   spend it (bills, food, holidays, electronics...) save it (in a bank account or under the mattress!) pay taxes (or else the government comes after you) invest it (in something you hope will make more money) give it away (to charities, good causes, family or friends)   Giving away When Christians talk about money, they often focus on the red segment, the giving away one.  Are you giving money away?  How much do you give to the church?  Should you be giving more?  What does your level of generosity say about your heart? These are good questions.  Robert Schnase focuses on these kinds of ideas in his chapter on extravagant generosity.  He particularly talks about the practice of tithing - giving ten percent of your income to the church - and how giving in this way can deepen your faith. But even if you are giving away ten percent, what about the ninety percent? The full hundred percent It's what we do with all our money that shows ou

Risk-taking?  Me?? definitely not me! I don't think so.  No heroic stories here of trekking through jungles to bring medical aid, or smuggling Bibles into hostile countries, or mentoring malnourished children in a deprived inner-city area. The idea of taking risks reminded me of some thoughts I had about the story of Ruth.  Ruth was the daughter-in-law of Naomi, and Naomi's family had moved from Judah to Moab to escape famine. (This is way back in Old Testament times, you understand - probably about 1300 BC.)  Naomi's two sons had married local women, and everything was going fine, when suddenly Naomi's husband and both sons died, within a fairly short space of time.  Naomi, understandably, was heartbroken, and decided to return to her homeland.  Both daughters-in-law accompanied her a short way, but Orpah went home, while Ruth followed Naomi, pledging her devotion in a famous speech ("your people will be my people, and your God my God"). Most talks you hear a

My children are taking music lessons. Every morning, Toby is downstairs playing I Will Always Love You on the keyboard, while Theo is strumming the chords from Back in Black on the electric guitar, upstairs.  We've made it through the whole rigmarole of online lessons through lockdown, when the music lesson was the one fixed point in their whole week.  I figured out how to record Toby so that he could take his Grade 1 exam by video (he passed with Merit!)  And they've spent ages on pentatonic scales, finger exercises, and chord changes.   But it's not the idea of practising endless scales and arpeggios that motivates someone to pick up an instrument.  It's that moment when it all comes together and actually sounds really good.  When Theo plays along with his teacher and the backing track and says, "That was great, Mum!"  When Toby's teacher tells him he was "perfect" at playing a piece.  Suddenly they get a glimpse of what all the practice is f

Passionate. When you hear the words "passionate worship", what picture comes up in your mind?  I see a person, eyes closed and arms flung high, singing with all their heart, utterly lost in the moment.  But then - somehow - it also makes me think of the opposite.  The other person, hands shoved tight into pockets, feet shuffling, who watches that passionate person and thinks, 'What's wrong with me?  Why don't I feel like that?' Maybe it's because passion is a two-edged word.  We use it to mean a great love, a fervent adoration.  But the root of it comes from passio , meaning suffering, enduring - that's why we talk about the Passion of Christ.  Sometimes we come to worship full of joyful emotion.  And sometimes life is so grey and bleak that it takes all of our energy merely to walk into church, let alone do anything enthusiastic when we get there.  So if we talk about passionate worship, maybe we need to mean both kinds.  The heights and the depths.