Moving On and Best-before Dates

The whole process of changing jobs as a C of E vicar is a relatively long one, and when you know you have a job, there is usually a bit of a delay before an announcement can be made. So I have had to sit on the fact that I would be moving from Morecambe for about a month. I'm going to be vicar of St Nicholas, Beverley and half-time training adviser for the Archdeaconry of the East Riding. That's in the Diocese of York.

Letters have to be exchanged, and a new DBS certificate obtained (the latter being the main cause of the delay). In the meantime it's all kept confidential to a relatively small group of people until it can be announced officially in the old and new location simultaneously. It's an immense relief to have it all out in the open, so we can begin to work on the handover, and I can start to plan for my move.

A few people have asked why I am going, so I thought I'd blog a few thoughts about moving on.

After Debbie died, I remember being asked if I would move, and I knew at the time that I wasn't going to engage with thinking seriously about that for at least a year. You don't make good decisions in the midst of turmoil, and more importantly I felt that the church community and I needed to grieve and process what had happened together. From time to time I have seen jobs being advertised, and I had no interest in looking at them, so I knew that was the right instinct.

Then something happened which told me that things had changed. Someone I know referred to a post being advertised, and for some reason I took a look at it. As I did so, I realised I was beginning to take quite an active interest, and that I was thinking myself into the situation to see if it was a good fit. In other words, the prospect of moving on had taken a different character.

None of this was a negative reflection on my current church or parish - they've been great. I love Morecambe with its challenges, opportunities, characters, community and creativity. There are so many people, activities and places that I will miss, so it's not an easy decision. Plus it has one of the finest sunset views you'll get anywhere.

A snap I took last night

But it's now over two years since losing Debbie, and at some point I knew I had to make a new start. One of the features of being a clerge is that [almost always] you can't move house and stay in the same job, and you can't move job and stay in the same house. This big old house was a home for four of us and a dog, and now it's just me, except when Ellie is home from university, so increasingly I've felt a need to move on.

Besides that, I have always been very keen in all my appointments not to exceed my "best-before" date. Over the years, I have known a few clergy who weren't aware that they had, and it can have a detrimental effect on them and their ministry. My current parish has lots of good things going on, but I believe it now needs someone who can work with them on the next stage of development. For me to do that would effectively require me to commit to being here until I retire, and I know that wouldn't be the right thing. It's time for someone else with a fresh perspective to be involved in writing the next chapter for Morecambe Parish Church, just as I will be bringing a fresh perspective when I work with my new church at Beverley.

Underlying all of this is the very important principle that no-one is indispensable. That should be true for any organisation; it should be especially true for a church. As I said on Sunday, the life and ministry of this church doesn't depend on me, it depends on the God whose gifts we were celebrating at Pentecost.

Do we believe in change?

The recent case of Jared O'Mara has prompted me to think about what we as Christians mean by repentance or making a new start. Mr O'Mara is the Labour MP who famously unseated Nick Clegg from his Sheffield Hallam constituency. He recently resigned from the Women and Equalities Committee following the discovery of online posts he made back in the early 2000s which are homophobic, derogatory about women and also about people who are overweight.

Mr O'Mara is now 36 years old, so these posts were made in his early 20s. He's clearly embarrassed about them, and has very publicly disowned the views he articulated then. Those who are standing by him say that the change is sincere and real, and that he should not be judged now on the views he articulated then. However, social media and the press are often much less forgiving, and there will doubtless be plenty of people saying he's only sorry because he was caught out.

Now I don't know Mr O'Mara or his innermost attitudes and feelings, but his predicament asks us all some interesting questions. I have no doubt that no-one reading this post would like every view they have ever articulated to be replayed. I am sure we have all said or even written things which we would certainly regret, and which we would now disown. It's all too easy to join in the vilification of a public figure on Facebook or Twitter, but what if all of our own faults and foibles received the same scrutiny. It's always worth pausing for thought before being carried along with the crowd. 

The second question it poses for me is whether we ever really believe in change. What would be sufficient proof for me to believe that someone had indeed put their past behind them? If we are too naive in accepting someone's word about their change in character, that has the potential to be very damaging. This has been seen acutely in the way abuse allegations have been handled in church circles in the past. Once offenders have been dealt with by the law, there have to be safeguards in place to ensure that the risk of a repeat offence is minimised and everyone involved is protected.

On the other hand, we know from our own experience that we do indeed change in other respects, whereas the media (and especially social media) can be very unforgiving, particularly if the person under scrutiny holds the opposite view politically to those making the comments. 

All anyone can do to prove that change has really occurred is to be consistent and develop a track record of speaking and behaving in ways that demonstrate that. That may mean making certain decisions about the situations we place ourselves in, or the influences we expose ourselves to. In Christian circles, we call that repentance, which is turning round from walking one path, and walking a different way - the way of Jesus. We may sometimes be met with scepticism, cynicism or complete disbelief, but the possibility of change offers us all hope that our mistakes don't have to have the final say.

Identity

It's nearly a year since the University of Cumbria was born, but I am reliably informed by students that taxi drivers still need to be asked to go to St Martin's College.

Change. It's never easy.

Lent blog: Day 6

If you just want to view Lent posts, click Lent under the labels heading in the right-hand side-bar

Self Improvement

If you read some stuff about Lent (or even get the wrong end of the stick reading most stuff about Lent) you could get the impression that it's all about self-improvement. A sort of 'You Are What You Eat' / 'Changing Rooms' for the spiritual life. (We once did a service on John 6 called you are what you eat)

Anyway, these shows are all good fun if you can't be bothered to redecorate, or you are struggling with weight and diet. But, spiritual stuff isn't really like that - not actually about what self-improvement I can manage. 2 heresies in that sentence; God does the improving, and it's not about improving me, but God transforming his world.

If for spiritual reasons you do any giving up of something, or take up some extra reading / praying / study, hang on to the fact that it's to let God in, not to achieve some higher personal standing on some mythical metaphysical scale.

Northern Ireland

Image by Getty Images via Daylife

I blogged about this a while ago, but I just saw on the news that Sinn Fein have agreed to cooperate with the Police Service of Northern Ireland. This means that the elections can go ahead, and a new assembly may be formed. Even more mind-blowing is the possibility of Sinn Fein and the DUP sharing power. Once sworn enemies, they shouted at each other, and often seemed to outsiders as stuck in a narrative that was beyond change.

How wrong we were. It's not signed, sealed and delivered yet, and the election has yet to take place. However, those of us who remember the nightly reports of the 'the troubles' on the news, and especially those who lived and suffered them, it leaves you rubbing your eyes in disbelief.

I hope the relative peace they have found is enduring, and that all the citizens of that island are in a better place as a result.