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Supporting Basics Bank

Basics Bank provides food parcels to those who need them in some of the most deprived areas of Edinburgh. The demand has doubled in the last year. Could we at St James support this service (it is run by Edinburgh City Mission) by collecting tins of food, pasta etc.? I could take a load to West Pilton or if we have a lot it could be collected! They do not want perishable stuff and everything has to be well inside ‘use by dates’.

The Community Minister at the West Pilton Project is Rev Dr Tom Kisitu. He described what they are doing:-

Tom Kisitu writes from West Pilton

For over 29 years, West Pilton Christian Centre has had a thriving Christian mission work inside and outside West Pilton. It continues to build upon this legacy and to lie, in many ways, at the heart of the community, catering for spiritual and social needs alike through a varied programme of activities. A drop-in cafe, clothing store and home visits are just some of the regular activities at the centre. Also, our women’s outreach and support work, mid-week Bible Study groups, Basics Bank project, Blast ‘n Shine (a children’s weekend club) and regular Gospel outreach events provide opportunities for exploring the meaning of life and faith.

Notably, the centre is not a church. It serves as a platform for Christians who desire to step out of their comfort zones, or to push beyond their boundaries and allow God to use them as difference makers and Great Commission Christians. Its friendly and welcoming atmosphere attracts people to it, and makes it possible for them (while in the centre or as a result of their visits to it) to relax, to meet with friends, to seek help with various concerns, challenges and problems in their life, and to know God and make Him known.

Our prayer ministry and Basics Bank project continue to make a significant impact in our community. These deserve to be described in a wee bit more detail.

Prayer in the community —’we move forward on our knees’

Like other ministries, our prayer ministry seeks to answer the question, `what on earth are we doing in West Pilton?’ One simple answer is that we are there amongst other things to pray ‘on-site with insight’. There are many individuals and groups of Christians that pray for our work, for West Pilton and the people and issues there. These prayers are greatly appreciated and bear a great deal of fruit. We also pray regularly at the centre for one another, for our work and for places, people and issues in West Pilton.

It is during these times of regular and fervent prayer that we ask God to guide, enrich and bless our outreach and support work. We ask Him to open our spiritual eyes to see what He sees around us, and in ways that we have never seen before. We ask Him to break our hearts with the things that break His heart — like people who are hurt, homeless, hungry and without hope. We also ask Him to help us and other Christian groups in the area to respond effectively to all their needs.

Another prayer activity we do in West Pilton is prayer-walking. This comprises deliberate, planned and focused praying in the very places where we expect our prayers to be answered. We go round praying intentionally ‘on the scene without making a scene’, asking God to reveal His will and work around us. We try, like Joshua and Caleb (Numbers 13:30) to see West Pilton with God’s eyes. We look out for new potential in the people we meet; learn and assess problems and issues like vandalism, gang activity and arson attacks (which become new prayer items at the centre); and prayerfully prepare resistant hearts to be open to the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
We are keen to see this ministry grow, and to designate part of the centre into a place in West Pilton where people can come and receive prayer for healing, deliverance or any other condition. Meanwhile, we continue to pray, because until we fully understand what we are dealing with in West Pilton, it is difficult to come up with the best possible plan.Behind the public face of the affluent and rapidly advancing city of Edinburgh, are areas of real deprivation, need and poverty.”People of all ages find themselves caught up in a downward spiral of helplessness, powerlessness and hopelessness. In seeking to address some of these issues and bring practical relief, Edinburgh City Mission runs a project called Basics Bank at West Pilton Christian Centre. This project provides a friendly and non-threatening atmosphere where individuals, parents and children can find the kind of help they need, whether that be a listening ear or a couple of bags of food and hygiene items, on a weekly basis, for up to six weeks. When the service users visit the centre they usually get a chance to sit down and have a hot drink. Our team listen to them, and try to guide them where possible, and to share the Gospel when given the opportunity to do so. They also provide (on request and in partnership with the entire team at the centre) special and practical forms of help like tuition in English as a foreign language, clothing, and facilitating referrals or writing letters to the council and other support and care-giving agencies in the area.Basics Bank works in a close two-way partnership:
>with churches, schools and individuals who provide basic food and hygiene items.
It encourages individuals and groups to sign up to a Basics Bank Covenant, and provides guidance concerning the items which participants should supply.
-with a local network of voluntary and charitable agencies who refer clients for assistance through a voucher referral scheme which ensures that help is given to those with genuine needs.

Basics Bank Project —’Offering care In time of need’

Basics Bank does not offer permanent help — it is_. here to help people on their way out of crisis. Help can be provided for up to two months, after which we will re-assess the need for further assistance.

Our work and impact in the community continues to grow from strength to
strength — thanks a great deal to the special and ongoing support of churches.

See also website - Edinburgh City Mission/ministries/basics-bank  for further information

Nativity through art

On Christmas day, I used the following pictures to help us reflect imaginatively on the nativity story.

Double click on any picture to see a larger version. Duncan.

Rublev’s Nativity (c1405)

Boticelli, The Mystical Nativity, (c1500)

Pierro della Francesca, Nativity. (c1470)

Geertgen tot Sint Jans, Nativity. (c1485)

William Bell Scott, The Nativity. (1872)

Janet McKenzie, Mary with the Midwives. (2003)

Brian Kershisnik, Nativity. (2006)

HARVEST PRAYER 2011

Used at the All-Age Harvest service on 2nd October, the following was a collaborative effort by the teenager group:

Thanks be to God

Thanks be to God for the fruits of the earth.

Thanks for fresh warm bread

For the feel of the crust breaking in my hand

And buttery heaven

Thanks for hot milky tea

For butternut squash soup

For crisp crunchy apples

for the fruit and vegetables that make us healthy

Thanks for the cake and its sweet sticky mixture on my fingers

Thanks for smooth milk chocolate

Thanks for the picking of sloes

For ripe raspberries

And the fat brambles in the graveyard.

Thanks be to God for the orchard, forest and hedgerow

For furrow, farm and factory.

Thanks be to God for sun and rain in good measure

For the treasure of rich soil, peat and loam.

For the rattle of the seed

The rising of the bread

The golding of the leaves

The swelling of the bean

The fullness of the fruit.

Thanks be to God for the sower and the growers and the harvesters

We pray for the weary hands that harvest

For the backs bent to rice and tatties

For the fingertips pinched to cotton and tea.

We pray

For the people who have no growing

For people who dream of water

For lonely women who walk for water

And know it unclean to drink.

We pray

For those with power who will not feed their people

For those lost to anger

For those whose lovers are in war

We pray for the children whose bread grows in war zones

And whose brothers have been sucked into war.

For the child who can hold a whole day’s food in the palm of her hand

For others bloated for want of any

We pray for them, for wealth of food not weapons

We pray for ourselves, fro wealth of will and power to help.

We give thanks for the turning of the season

And the turning of the earth.

Thanks be to God for the fruits of the earth

For the return of Your blessing

For the circling of Your grace

For the wonder of Your season

Thanks be to God

Thanks be to God for the fruits of the earth.

He Leadeth Me

I just wanted to say thanks for all the wonderful thoughts and prayers coming to me through texts and emails from the amazing folks of St James recently.

The following was in the Corstorphine Old Parish magazine for Sept 2011 and was written by H H Barry;

He Leadeth Me

In pastures green? Not always; sometimes He

Who knoweth best, in kindness leadeth me

In weary ways, where heavy shadows be -

Out of the sunshine warm and soft and bright,

Out of the sunshine into darkest night;

I oft would faint with sorrow and affright -

Only for this - I know He holds my hand,

So whether in the green of desert land,

I trust, although I may not understand.

And by still waters? No, not always so;

oftimes the heavy tempests round me blow,

And o’er my soul the waves and billows go.

But when the storms beat loudest, and I cry

Aloud fro help, the Master standeth by,

And whispers to my soul, ‘Lo, it is I.’

Above the tempest wild I hear Him say,

‘Beyond this darkness lies the perfect day,

In every path of thine I lead the way.’

So whether on the hill tops high and fair

I dwell, or in the sunless valleys where

The shadows lie - what matter? He is there.

And more than this; where’er the pathways lead

He gives to me no helpless, broken reed,

But His own hand, sufficient fro my need.

So where He leads me I can safely go;

And in the blest hereafter I shall know

Why in His wisdom He hath lead me so.

- love from James S   xx

Easter Sunday Refugio Eucharistic Prayer Poem

And in the garden I met you there;

your riven feet cooled by the morning dew,

your eyes shining with dawn-light:

The Daystar rising.

My eyes, vailed with tears,

suddenly see you in new light

when you name me.

I recognise in the humble gardener,

the teacher of my soul, Wisdom of the ages,

the Daystar rising.

Your power sustains,

your love restores,

your light shines

and proclaims the dawn of hope.

And I, as a child of your redeeming purpose,

freed your bursting from the tomb,

walk through the gate of new life to praise you;

the Daystar rising.

Can it really be only so few days since,

sat at table,

you called to mind Israel’s release,

the night the slaves walked into a free dawn?

You took the bread and gave thanks,

broke it and said,

“Take, eat, this is my body, broken for you.”

After the supper, you took the cup of reconciliation,

gave God glory,

and offered it us, saying,

“Drink this, my blood of new relationship,

poured out for you and all,

that sins may be forgiven.

Do this in remembrance of me.”

We took and tasted.

But oh, the next day;

there was your body broken, your blood poured out.

Our hopes and dreams betrayed and slaughtered.

Our hearts crying out, “What have you done to him?”

And now, after such an eternity of grief,

do you stand before me now so soon,

the Daystar rising?

I cannot hold on to you,

but I can take hold of this bread, this cup,

and know you within.

Breathe your gentle breath of heaven,

the inspiration of new life and community

on these things of earth,

and rekindle our hopes with the fire of your love,

that we may be renewed to serve in your kingdom.

That we may rise at your call,

our Lord and Teacher,

Friend and Wonder;

The Daystar rising!

Hope you like it - James x

The Sabbath was made for maggots

Last week I took up the invitation of a screen sabbath for the first time.

Since it was a Saturday, I thought it would be easy. Just ignore the computer, lay down the phone, turn off the TV. Actually, on that last one I was feeling quite smug: we got rid of TV 12 years ago.

Not long into the day I began to observe an inner twitch. I’d think of an unfinished task, like an unwritten email or an odd word I’d meant to look up, and instantly want to go to the screen. No, chill out, I told myself. You don’t need to. It can wait a day.

That was fine, except that fifteen minutes later, the twitch would be back. This time, it was not imploring me to complete some worthy task; it was just a sign of boredom. “Go on, switch on,” it seemed to be saying. “You’ll find some fun stuff to look at. What could be wrong with that?” Perhaps, nothing. But I wasn’t going to find out what I was missing in the rest of life, if I spent every waking hour giving in to the twitch. Besides, I knew the twitch too well: I knew that the quick flick at an email, or the furtive glance at a new website, could easily draw me in for an hour or more. Like now: I was heading for bed when I distracted myself by writing this.

So what to do on a Saturday morning, deprived of gadgets, and snack-sized pieces of information? I grabbed my old sleeping bag, a cup of coffee, and a good book (well done Nick Thorpe!) and settled down on the sofa to sip and read and stay cosy.

An interesting thing happened. Other family members began to gravitate into this space, creeping out from their rooms, and from behind their games consoles. A general mood of convivial lounging prevailed. I continued to resist the urge to hide in a another room with a computer screen in my face, but all the time increasingly aware that I was in the midst of something far more important than mere information. I was surrounded by other people, relating to me in real time.

The spell was cast. Why would I prefer solitude and information, to real, relaxing company? Answer: because I never knew what I was missing.

OK, I romanticise. The  spell was eventually broken when one nameless member of my family chose to pull me off the sofa, (maggot-like in my sleeping bag,) drag me out of the room, down the hall, and half way up the stairs feet-first. Still, when did I last laugh so much?

In 90 minutes I will re-enter the zone: Screen Sabbath week 2. Let’s hope this week will be as refreshing and enlightening as last.

Ash Wednesday

Our Ash Wednesday service marked the start of Lent, with a confessional service which included a walk to and from the centre of a labyrinth. At this centre-point, we heard the words,

“Remember that you are dust, and to dust you will return.”

George Mackay Brown conveyed this grounding sense of mortality in his tremendous poem, ‘Ash Wednesday’, which was read after we had walked the labyrinth.

-

-

Remember, man, that thou art dust.

The earl kneels, the ash of the end is written on his brow.

A captain of ships kneels, to be put in mind of a death

in a far port, or at home, or on a rock of the sea.

And the boy that holds cinders for the priest,

His forehead is smeared,

Who wears a coat of fourteen Aprils.

The lady of Paplay

Thinks, most mornings, she will live forever,

kneeling now

Is touched with the grave-stoor.

The ploughman folds sun-grained hands,

He tilts his face

To the dust drained of warmth and light.

Fisherman, the spindrift

Will wash the ashes from you tomorrow.

Still you remember, between two waves,

St Peter and the fire of his denials.

And the old bishop, ‘I know this,

One God-ground deed or thought

Endures, when the circle of diamond-and-gold on my

finger is dust.’

In the kirk of Magnus

Stood a multitude of islanders, death-farers that day,

Hungry, after, for panis angelicus.

And unto dust thou shalt return

screening out

I like this idea a lot. I don’t know how successful I’ll be, but even thinking about the practicalities has borne some mental fruit, in considering how work and leisure time tends to blur together, and how ‘time off’ as a couple is too easily spent seated side by side in front of a screen, however worthy the documentary or arty the movie - perhaps Scrabble is better for cultivating relationship, especially if Sandy gets to win for a change. Let’s see how we get on!

Suzanne

An invitation to take a ‘Screen Sabbath’

“To the screen-lit, worldly-wired,
I wish the peace of paper pages. ”

So wrote Elspeth Murray in her poem ‘Twelve Christmas Wishes’.

It’s an odd kind of wish, and yet one that resonates with me deeply. There is nothing so delicious as settling down in a comfy armchair with an old-fashioned hardback book, and opening stiff, sewn pages, and smelling the fragrance of dust and permanence.

Perhaps this is nothing more than nostalgia. In the world I was born into, the only screen in the house was the TV, flickering its three channels. Two thirds of households didn’t have a phone of any kind. As a teenager, if you wanted to play a computer game, you went to an ‘arcade’ and played Pac-Man or Space-Invaders on a machine taller than you at 10p a go - while the local toughs tapped out their fags on the backs of your hands. Even at University (just two decades ago) notes and essays were written by hand; information was sought in libraries; and if you wanted to send a short message to a friend, you scribbled it on a piece of scrap paper and placed it in a tray labelled ‘Pigeon Post.’

I don’t want to go back to that world, but I would like to think a bit more carefully about the world we find ourselves in. The changes we have seen in the past twenty years amount to a change on the scale of the Industrial Revolution. In a few short years, around three quarters of us have brought a computer into the home and are now online; eighty percent own a mobile phone. From the mid-nineties, a range of technologies have transformed the way we relate to one another; email and webpages, blogging, text messaging, and most recently the explosion of social media. Children in the US now spend, on average, seven hours and forty minutes a day online, not including time at school. Ten percent of humanity has a Facebook account.

Perhaps all this has left you unaffected. But if, like me, you sense you are in the midst of a cultural and social earthquake, it may be a good time to step outside and take stock.  I don’t want to be a doom-monger. The new technologies are dazzling for what they can do: I don’t want to go back to stuffing envelopes, when I can send an email attachment; the buzz of social networking is, on the whole, a happy sound; and you wouldn’t be reading this, if it weren’t for blogging. Fair enough.

But what does astonish me is the unquestioned assumption that when it comes to technology, more is always better. It is the unintended consequences of technology that so often we fail to see when we adopt it uncritically. What happens to a family when its members spend more time connecting with virtual friends than with one another? What life-enhancing activities are displaced by the hours spent online? And like bad old-fashioned TV, what happens when we allow these media to determine the scope of our attention, hour after hour, reeling us in on the hook of ‘infotainment’ - keeping us close to the advertising.

Well, Lent is around the corner, and I wonder whether we would be better able to see these consequences if we were to treat ourselves to a Screen Sabbath - to the peace of paper pages, or whatever else is life-enhancing for you. Why not choose a day in the week, and keep the TV, the computer monitor, the game console, the smart-phone, and any other lit screen turned off? Of course, we might discover that there are many good things about our screen-time that we miss. Fine. At the same time, we might unmask an idol, confront a compulsion, or notice a habit we have got into, which has left us poorer. We may start to remember some wholesome ways of living and relating to others that became squeezed out by the screen. Who knows?

Epiphany Reflections

“I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year,

‘Give me a light, that I may tread safely into the unkown’.

But he replied, ‘Go out into the darkness,

and put your hand into the hand of God.

That shall be to you better than light,

and safer than a known way.’ ”

[God knows Minnie Louise Haskins 1908]

“We were wholly unable to come near you,

the dawning splendour of the light eternal,

and yet you came near to us. …

You were the great light hidden in the bosom of your Father;

you came forth from your retreat into our market place.

You became a great lamp for the great,

and a small lamp for the little ones -

A lamp not only visible to our eyes

but palpable to our touch.”

[John of Forde C13 Cistercian Abbot]

James x