Sweet Encouragements

 

Some Days ARE Encouraging … they just are. One happened this week.

It was a small white envelope, the usual Christmas card suspect, gritty glitter discernable beneath the sealed paper.

I knew the handwriting and was pleased.

Very often it’s accompanied by a bag of my favourite sweets.

But this time it was something much better.

 The sender is a sister in Christ, or perhaps more rightly, a mother in Christ. Right from the days when I was a very fledgling curate in another part of the country, she spoke words of Christian encouragement, and had a gorgeous and infectious laugh, which I remember still.

Both her and her husband had come to the parish some years before, and both became great and genuine encouragers in the Gospel. They could be very clear in understanding what Church might be or need to become, but it was always with a right spirit.

I value that until this day. But I made the mistake or perhaps wise decision, to mention from the pulpit  what is my favourite sweet. This of course was while trying to illustrate teaching in Ephesians from St Paul, on the many riches of God being something like a sweet shop with endless jars of new delights waiting to be enjoyed.  And in the now almost twenty years we have lived in the West of Northern Ireland, at least once, sometimes twice every year, a little parcel arrives by Royal Mail, and everyone in the family have come to know that it will be a parcel from this Christian encourager.

And always, but always there are written words of encouragement. I have one recent one on my desk, a postcard with the words from Psalm 121, ‘I lift my eyes onto the hills, from whence cometh my help.’

On the reverse, in her distinctive handwriting, a few sentences which remind me that what I do in Christ, matters.

This time, no sweets, instead two postcards with the now grown-up faces of a young married couple and their children, working as missionaries in the Republic of Ireland. And I was reminded that this young dad, and his sister, and another couple in ministry were part of a youth fellowship I hosted on Friday evenings in a very first parish. I remember the words of discouragement, how there were no young people in the parish, and it would never work. I remember leaving my own young family and trudging equipment across to an aged parish hall. I remember knocking on countless doors asking not to speak to parents, but to invite their young person to a Christian fellowship. And some days I think of them, some 36 in all, and wonder if they have gone on in Christ. And this week, a now older and senior Christian lady cared enough to write and thank me for the work done in sowing the seed of the Gospel of Jesus in those lives.  

 Christian ministry is an odd thing. 

It’s not a job or a profession; we talk about it as a calling. 

We occupy a role or an office, which usually speaks volumes about you, 

before you ever get to speak.

Sometimes you know the other person is simply talking at your role, not really to you.

And in the days when you wonder if anyone is actually listening, or if anything you do will ever have a tangible result, you remember that we live by the example of the One who went before us and gave His all.

We are asked to recall that ‘he who would be great among you must be the servant of all.’

Over the years I’ve learned that in Christian ministry there are few clear ‘results.’ Sometimes we see individuals and churches spotlighting their numbers or outcomes, sometimes it looks as though those next door have brighter lights and are more successful. In my experience that is rarely the case. There can be a great fuss made at a time about a certain place or person or way of worshipping. Often what mushrooms later disappears as quickly.

No, in the way of His kingdom, in ministry and growth, we must accept that the watchwords are faithfulness and duty. We get on with doing what is right to do, whether it has a bright light or not.

We continue to speak His words of love and truth and encouragement whenever and wherever possible. We believe that all things are possible through Him who first loved us.

We speak His encouragement to all age groups and on all occasions where we may.

Jesus knew this when He told that parable about the seed falling on differing kinds of soil.

The outcomes will greatly vary, but nonetheless the sower must first go out to sow.

I am really appreciative of the words of encouragements which come by post once or twice a year.

I am greatly heartened to see Christian young people grown up and model the values and teaching of Jesus in their own homes and with their own families.

I am moved to know that some that I have walked alongside, even for a short while, are also themselves working for Him and His kingdom.

And of course, an occasional sweet treat is welcome too.

In Jesus, 

Precentor Hanlon