How  Is  It  For  You?
Rev Ian Fellows

Article Created on 13th January 2012 at 22:05 via Saint Andrew's

There's nothing like a long day cycling the Manifold Valley trail.  It has tea at either end and Thor's Cave in the middle.  Thor's Cave is either a new rendering of Tors Cave, being (as it is) in the hills or else it was named after the Swedish god of Thursdays.  And it turns out the Peak District isn't named directly after the Peaks, but after the Pecsaetan tribes who lived there.  Except that Pecsaetan means peak-dwellers anyway...

Last week I'd gone one better by experiencing the Monsall Trail, with its lime kilns, Monsall Head pub, viaducts and beautiful valley views.  And when I say "went one better," I mean I did it twice: once on foot and once on the trusty bike.  And so I experienced the trail in two ways.

As a pedestrian it was long, and hampered by a lot of cyclists without bicycle bells who weren't sure about path etiquette.  "Two legs good, two wheels bad," I muttered to Miriam.  As a cyclist it was much shorter and hampered by pedestrians with small dogs and long leads, all of whom baffled by my bicycle bell.  "Two wheels good, two legs bad," I murmured to anyone listening.

So I am in little doubt that I probably exasperated people myself on both occasions, however courteously I tried to use the path.

And of course life's like that.  We all experience it in different ways, and we're all exasperated and exasperating in our own ways.  At college I watched the married ordinands grumbling that the single ones had it all their own way, while we single students muttered "Never mind Moses, the Red Sea parts if you run at it with a push-chair!"*  Grass.  Greener.  Etc.

It's but a short step (or a paltry pedal) from there to acknowledging that we all experience church, too, in different ways.  I experience church as its vicar, occasionally annoyed that lay-people don't interact enough with sermons even though it's the same lay-people who complain if the sermon is more of a lecture.  I don't often sit in the pews, so I miss out on what that's like.  I'm not sure how frustrating it is for lay-people to have to sit through vicars and their Next Big Ideas.  I experience it as a man, and I've not run up against the prejudice that women have in striving to have ministries recognised.  I experience it as a single person, and since I banned everyone from match-making on pain of a painful death, that's been okay, and I try to steer the mood away from family-this and family-that.  I experience church as one of the ethnic majority.  I experience church as an introvert.  And I experience church as something I do as a duty and would sometimes love to do just for the sheer worshipping fun of it all.

How about you?

Now I have my own exasperations about other people in church, but like a cyclist moaning about hikers, I need to get off my high bike and trudge a few miles in their sweaty boots to understand why they are as they are, how they see things, and what they find downright difficult about cyclists.  Or, as a hiker, I need to cut the complaints about bikers, pull on my helmet and clips and weave a weary mile or two in their saddles so I can understand the multiple joys and sorrows of other trail-users.

And so back to church.  And some questions.  Do you know or can you imagine what it might be like to experience church as someone other than yourself?

• A wheelchair user.  Have you rolled a mile in their moccasins?
• A widow or widower.  What are the particular dynamics that make church (a) fun (b) an ordeal
• A woman who believes herself called to the ordained ministry but still meeting objections and oppressions?  How's she getting on?
• A gay man or woman who keeps hearing the same old arguments and prejudices.  How tiresome must that be?
• Children and young people, and the mums and dads who feel self-conscious when they wail and weep.  Think about that.
• The new new person who feels inexperienced, unworthy and ignorant.  What's to be done to make them feel at home?

Next time your vicar is boring you by asking for volunteers for Electoral Roll Officer or how Esther turns from child to woman in chapter 4, try this little exercise: look surreptitiously around, choose a member of the flock, and try to imagine yourself inside their experience of your church.  Maybe even the vicar, only don't stare her/him out (it's unsettling).  Maybe later, surprise them by asking a sensible and sensitive question.  If they think someone understands, or is even just trying to understand, there's a chance they and you will feel much more at home.

And then any pointless resentment we feel can die away and we'll be embarrassed at how daft it was to harbour vague resentments and grudges against the young/old/traditional/new/other sex/other sexuality.

Oh, and come back at me and let me know what it's like being you in church.  I'm sorry if I've inadvertantly tripped your dog or scared you with my bicycle bell...