Driving up the motorway the other week, well north of Birmingham, I suddenly became conscious of the vast expanse of sky, like the underneath of a dome, stretching out to touch the horizon on all sides. I realized I hadn't seen the sky for a while - not like that. In Moseley we catch only a glimpse of it, in between the trees and the roofs of tall houses. Or perhaps it was that I had my head down too much, intent on the tasks in hand.
Seeing that dome of sky all around lifted my spirits, reminded me that there is more to life than our own immediate concerns. It gave a new perspective and spoke to me of the connectedness of things. In his book of reflections and meditations, David Adams, the one-time vicar of Lindisfarne, writes:
There is something invigorating about treading on the edge of the familiar, pressing beyond the border of the known, and searching our to new horizons. If we do not adventure, there is something in us that will remain unsatisfied and perhaps die. I like places where the elements meet, where the wave crashes or laps on the shore, where the earth touches the sky, where day turns into night or night into day. At such meeting places there is always an interaction and an encounter for those with eyes to see. Such places are always exciting if we allow them to act upon us.
Such places are exciting - but we fear them. As children we are told to keep away from the edge, because it is dangerous. So we are reminded where we are, preferring not to be disturbed, and miss out on adventure.
Jesus was always on the edge of things. He met with those who lived on the margins of society. He challenged the complacency of the religious leaders. He pushed back the boundaries in his encounters with women and with people of other faiths. He prayed on the mountain top and appeared on the seashore.
We live in a world of change, and the Church is part of that. We can try and keep our heads down, hoping things can go on the way they have always done, or we can lift them up and look at the vase expanse of sky and be excited about the possibilities. It is the work of the holy spirit to disturb the comfortable as well as to comfort the disturbed.
The boundaries of our parish life are changing. Centre 13 has now closed but we are seeking a "community audit" to help us identify the present needs of Moseley and discover how we as a church and how our church building might serve the community in the future. We are in discussion with an architect, to help us envisage a church building that reflects our theology - a church as a place of welcome, a place of prayer, a place of peace, a place of worship, a place of challenge, a place where people of all ages and backgrounds can find common purpose together. I think of the Church as a sacrament: an outward and visible sign of the inward and spiritual truth of God's presence.
The boundaries of our parish life are changing. We will soon be more formally joined together with the parish of St Anne's. Already we are sharing social events, like the Harvest supper on October 2nd; already we come together for particular occasions of worship; already we support concerts in each other's parishes. St Anne's have invited those who were members of the lunch clubs at Centre 13 to come to their lunch club on Mondays; we need one or two more people from our congregation to offer to help. Every other month, I meet with the wardens from St Anne's as well as from St Mary's to discuss our shared future and the ways in which we can work together. Before Christmas, I hope we shall be able to appoint a priest/youth worker to our shared ministry team. This will be someone who will live in the St Anne's vicarage and have prime responsibility for the worship and pastoral work there, but who will be a priest for both parishes and in particular responsible for developing the youth work across both parishes. Exciting times!
The boundaries of our parish life are changing. We continue to develop links with the Hamza mosque. Our next evening event will be in October when Christian and Muslim speakers will look at what 'charity' means in our two faiths. These evenings have enabled us to meet with those who come from the mosque, in company with others from the Christian churches in Moseley. We have shared understanding and experience. We have sung a hymn together, and been privileged to observe and have explained to us the Muslim prayers. We have been building bridges. This coming together is only in its beginning; there are opportunities for those who have not been to any of the events so far to come to the next one - let me know if you are interested. Another initiative that we are hoping to begin is to find those who would be willing to befriend one or two Muslim women; going to their homes to get to know them and learning as much about their culture as we might share of ours. Such links, like the evening events, are all about building bridges.
The boundaries that we are exploring push our concerns into new directions. But they are still very much focused on Moseley and on what is happening here. The vast dome of sky reminds us of our connectedness with people far away from Moseley. We cannot ignore all that is happening in our wider world, for we too are a part of that. When people suffer as a result of inhumanity, we too are diminished. When others starve for lack of food, and endure disease for lack of clean water, it is our greed which is at fault. Part of being the church in a particular place is that we are also part of the world-wide church, and our prayers and our action should reflect global concerns.
Treading the verge of the unknown, being willing to explore new possibilities, can be exciting, but it can also fill us with trepidation.
A young girl with Down's syndrome was being driven to the airport to go on holiday with her parents. She never went very far in the car before uttering the words, "I want to go home". For Claire, home means warmth and security. She is comfortable with routine, resistant to change. Even a holiday is a strange, unsure adventure. The family had driven for about an hour, when her father had turned his head to check on the children. Claire was gazing intently up at the scudding clouds as the sky gradually lightened in the early hours of that day. She was not someone who spoke very much, and certainly never in sentences. But this day Claire uttered the following words, "The sky goes all the way home."
It was as if she had suddenly realised that wherever she was being taken, and the further away she went, the comfort of home was with her. Just a glance at the sky was enough. Her father, a presenter on a local radio music programme, was so struck by the words that he invited various composers to work with the image and produce songs and instrumentals for a new CD. The Sky Goes All the Way Home (available from the Down's Syndrome Association) was produced to raise funds for a much needed mini-bus for Claire's school. The songs and instrumentals on it are profoundly moving, as each composer got in touch with their own understanding of what it means to find that sense of 'home' in an insecure and uncertain world.
The vast expanse of sky enlarges our vision and calls us out to explore new horizons. Wherever we go, we can also trust in that God-given inner strength which enables us to cope with anything that life throws at us. For the same sky which widens our perspective is also the sky which goes all the way home.