Emotional Ryder Cup Rout for Europe

It's hard to imagine a more one-sided contest; although I have to concede the history books point to even more staggering margins in terms of the scoreline (before GB & I became Europe), and in favour of the USA.

But the nature of this 36th Ryder Cup was one of absolute European dominance from the first session of fourballs, when, with the second shot of the event, the usually flawless Tiger Woods clawed his drive into the water and never really recovered. His jittery start seemed to be contagious and the American team, containing the top 3 players in the world, (Woods, Furyk and Mickelson), were like lambs to the slaughter.

Neither Europe nor GB & I before them, managed to win all 5 sessions (2 sets of fourballs matches, 2 sets of foursomes and the series of 12 singles on Sunday), and the manner of the singles series was demonstrative of a European team brimming with confidence, inspired by each other and determined to win an unprecedented third consecutive Ryder Cup. Five times out of six now the USA have returned home to their individualistic PGA Tour schedules with their tails between their legs and this time more than any other time.

Despite the best efforts of Captain Lehman his team never looked anything other than twelve individuals. Woosie's dozen looked like brothers who cared about each other. Woods has never looked comfortable playing for anyone other than himself and Mickelson just appears to be gutless in this environment. In short, he doesn't care enough. If only Lehman could pick a Payne Stewart, a Lanny Wadkins, a Ray Floyd or a Trevino. These were guys who cared about winning more than their own individual records or egos. The beauty of the European team of 2006 is that you could put the names in a hat and pull out the pairings and any one of them would be happy to play with anyone else. This would never be case with the egos of Mickelson and Woods in the team room.

A word for each of the winning team.

Henrik Stenson: a quiet series for the ever-promising Swede but his place in history is guaranteed as the first Swede to hit the winning putt in a Ryder Cup.

Luke Donald: used sparingly, but won 3 out 3 , renewing his deadly partnership with Sergio

Sergio Garcia: becoming the talisman of the Ryder Cup that once was Seve; 4 points this year to go with his 4.5 of 2004.

David Howell: did well and seemed to regain his putting touch in his singles victory

Colin Montgomerie: was this his last Ryder Cup? Let's hope not. He led from the front magnificently as usual. He retained his unbeaten singles record and his name on the team sheet at Valhalla in two years may be worth a couple of points in terms of th effect it will have in the American locker room

Paul Casey: His Ryder Cup image took a battering after his comments last time out; this time he let his golf do the talking. Can anyone ever have finished a match 5&4 with a hole-in-one before?

Robert Karlsson: the big Swede did nothing wrong and played well with Casey on days 1 and 2 before succumbing to Tiger in the singles

Padraig Harrington: a disappointing personal performance but will never forget the day he won the Ryder Cup in his own country

Paul McGinley: good to see him recover form and one must admire his sporting gesture on the last green to JJ Henry. Well done Paul

Jose Maria Olazabal: a perfect partner for Sergio; role reversal to his old pairing with Seve. He looked delighted to see off Mickelson

Lee Westwood: along with Sergio, againthe biggest points collector on the Euro side. Played 5, won 3, halved 2. Slaughtered DiMarco on the front nine despite a temperature of over 100 degrees. And what a pairing with DC

Darren Clarke: the most amazing Ryder Cup story of recent times. Only a few short weeks since he tragically lost his wife Heather, that Clarke was able to play at all was astonishing. That he played 3 won 3 and played mesmeric golf along the way says everything you need to know. Now let's get a major in 2007 Darren.

Ian Woosnam: not eloquent, polished or erudite. But Woosie has been there, done that. And his experience of what was needed was enough to secure this landslide. He united his team and his captain's picks proved inspired. He'll be relieved it's all over but can be very proud.

One final thing. The only downside of this most emphatic victory was not the weather, but the incessant ramblings of Nick Faldo on Sky's presentations. Yes, he is Britain's greatest post war golfer with six majors. He is the Ryder Cup's most prolific points accumulator. A commentator he is not. Commentators know when to speak and when to let the pictures tell the story. How many errors did he make? He didn't know the golf course, the players or the state of the matches. I lost count of how many times we were forced to listen to him turn the events of 2006 into the events of yesteryear a la Faldo. At least in 2008 he'll be too busy to commentate. I only hope his 'the way I used to do it' speeches are left behind and that people around him speak sense, to counteract his egotistical indulgences.

And summer became autumn all of a sudden...

Yes I know, it's been a while since I posted anything on here. What can I say? I've been busy...

Summer came and went in a flash. The first art was the usual frenetic high energy of kids' holiday club. This year I created one called 'Wild West' which used the life of David against a backdrop of cactus plants, saloon doors and a life-size cardboard cutout of John Wayne himself. (£30 off the internet!; incidentally, Elvis is £50 - you'd think the cardboard would cost the same; maybe those extra cheeseburgers are worth the £20 extra).

We had approx. 80 kids there each morning and it really was a great week, but as usual, exhausting. The following week I waved goodbye to the family as they headed off on their summer sojourn south, and I entrenched myself in front of the tv to watch The Open Golf Championship from Hoylake, which became another Tiger avalanche. Brilliant player, poor spectacle for those of us who like a nailbiting Sunday afternoon finish. Here's hoping the Ryder Cup makes up for it.

Then, in a stop-start summer, there were preaching and worship engagements as well as pastoral needs, before the holidays. My nephew got married and my youngest was a flower-girl so that was a nice opportunity to catch up with family and friends.

Then a week in the Lake District at the Keswick Convention. We arrived just as the heatwave left town. It rained for 5 out of 7 days. The ministry was good though. Particularly enjoyable was Luis Palau (hasn't aged a bit), Vaughan Roberts on 1 Corinthians and various speakers taking the seven churches of Revelation as the evening theme. I also enjoyed a cd I purchased there when I got home by Amy-Orr Ewing on 'The Need for Aplogetics in a Post-modern Culture'. Lots of food for the grey matter to digest over the next few months.

We then had a quick stopover in Dumfries (my home church) where Alan (their new minister and my old boss) roped me in to teach a kids' song in the Sunday morning service. My claims that 'I'm on my holidays' were met with short shrift! It was good fun, though.

Then an overnight in a TravelInn near Lymm, Cheshire (excellent value at £15 for the three of us) before 4 nights at the Graig Park Resort in North Wales.

Then back to reality. Staring down the barrel of a hectic new session. The autumn programme for youth ministy looks busy and exciting with new attenders and new leaders signing up to help as well as the returning army of keen volunteers.

Had an enjoyable day on Saturday at a Christian event, Awakenings UK, held near Edinburgh. Despite the inclement conditions (it tipped it down all day long) I particularly enjoyed listening to Ruth Bell Graham (daughter of Billy) and the music of Phatfish (with the wonderfully talented vocals of Louise Fellingham). Also there were Mark Stibbe, Ian White and Andrew Mitchell.

Well, now that I'm back in gear I'll be hoping to stay in touch with my thoughts (at least that's what my shrink said would work!)

Looking forward to 'getting stuck in'.

Shalom

The dangers of mixing up your potatoes and your turnips...

So today I achieved a first. You can't say that every day, unless you're a few months old. I'm 38 and today achieved a first. Actually today I achieved two firsts.

By way of celebrating the fact that my nephew is about to get married next month we went over to a place near Dundee to do clay pigeon shooting and blind 4x4 driving.

The clay pigeon shooting I took to like a duck to water, if you'll hang in there with me on the bird analogy. Of 18 traps released I 'killed' 10, which may not win me a place on the next Commonwealth Games team, but I was chuffed nonetheless.

The driving was not only a new experience but a new concept. I'd never heard of such a thing. The basic premise is this; the driver is blindfolded while a passenger in the all-terrain vehicle calls instructions to safely navigate round a spectacularly uneven piece of land. When it was my turn to navigate I felt quite unsafe, but strangely when I had the blindfold on, and had to listen attentively to the instruction, I felt extremely safe. I'm sure that little point will be appearing in a sermon round here fairly soon in some shape or form.

Anyway, after a couple of circuits of 'left a bit, right a bit, left a bit more...' etc, the instructor said he would make it more interesting by changing the instruction to potatoes or turnips. It was amazing just how much chaos this simple rule change caused. As navigator, no matter how much I tried I could not remember whether left was turnips or potatoes. The more I got it wrong, of course, the more erratic the journey in the hands of my other nephew got. Which was all part of the fun!

Recommended.

Peace is just a month away...

I don’t know what comes into your mind when you hear the word peace. For me it is 4 days each July, when my wife and the children are down in far away Norfolk enjoying some holiday time with my wife'’s folks. I always take four days off to enjoy watching The Open Championship on tv. I am a bit of an Open golf ‘anorak.’ Isn’t that really sad? In my single days I would try to actually get to the event in person, attending all the practice days from 7am till 9pm, then all the championship days as well, before rushing home to watch the highlights on tv before starting all over again the next day.

Nowadays I content myself with the tv experience and actually you see a lot more although you forego some of the atmosphere and the thrill of actually being there. The preparation starts a couple of days before when the draw is announced. I print off the draw so I can keep all the scores of the players as they complete their rounds. I make sure all the provisions are in by Wednesday teatime. I won’t have time to cook properly for the next four days so great care is given to the selection of food items. If war breaks out in the next four days I am ready. Also necessary is a good golf magazine, but only one who has taken the time to print out a map of the course so I can assess and analyse the play. I am ready.

On the Wednesday evening the BBC have a preview programme to whet the appetite. Great! I could hardly be more excited if I were actually competing. Since there’s no chance of that, I make do with being the best spectator I can be. Thursday morning arrives and play generally gets underway at 7am or thereabouts. But the TV coverage doesn’t start till 9:30. What’s a boy to do? Well in the bad old days I had to content myself with flicking teletext every two minutes for updates, but in the last few years, the internet has rescued me. Every score recorded in real time, some holes on live webcam, combined with commentary from FiveLive just about keeps me sane till Peter Alliss and co. start broadcasting. Then four days of uninterrupted heaven. Sleep is an irritating interruption to the feast, but I just about manage to cram it in. About an hour into the coverage I am transported to a piece of green land somewhere else in the country and there I stay for four lovely, peaceful, at complete-ease-with-the-world days of self-indulgent isolation.

Of course the peace I’m experiencing is more accurately described as rest. A break from the norm. An unwinding. A recharging. Breathing.

But there must be more to peace than that. Real peace ought to be something that we can experience in the middle of life, not just at the peripheral times of holiday or special occasions. Peace for the Christian should be a distinctive of our character, a trait that people recognize in us because it is something that distinguishes us in our handling of situations, relationships and disappointments.

For some that word is just a dream, a notion we’ve heard others speak of, which sounds quite nice, but always seems just outside of our reach. Life in 2006 does not come with peace built in. It’s not part of the package.

But Shalom in the search to find peace. Mine is coming in a month...

Floating on fresh water

I heard a good story this week and I want to remember it so I thought I'd record it here for posterity.

A guy had been sailing and had an accident with his boat and was left clinging onto his upturned vessel, miles from land, for several days. His endurance against the elements was good to begin with but the hardest thing was thirst, especially with all the water around.

After several days, a rescue team found him and he was severely dehydrated. When he recovered he was horrified to discover that the area he had been floating in was actually fresh water and he could have been drinking it all the time.

The spiritual application of this story was for overtired Christians who are feeling spiritually dehydrated, drained from years of service and possibly from being caught in the crossfire once too often.

In this week of Pentecost, it's helpful to be reminded that for the last two thousand years, the church has been floating on fresh water, a ready resource of strengthening, invigorating, refreshing Holy Spirit water. Too often we strain to hear the latest buzzwords, the latest trends, or the conferences that will hit the spot. The best resource is right under our boat all the time.

Happy sailing.

Wise words and catchy tunes

Thought I'd log some of the stuff I've been reading and listening to lately. Maybe in a year's time when I look at this I'll realise it's made a difference in my practices...

Jesus calms a storm...

They say seven days is a long time in politics. Well, ditto for a church. This last week's had everything. First I had the tranquil retreat with 6 other souls-in-need-of-a-rest, 24 hours of 'deep massage' for the spirit, which I thoroughly enjoyed. I met some good people who were majorly encouraging. We shared joys and sorrows, dreams and frustrations, we prayed together, ate together, talked, laughed, sang, even had a memorable boys v. girls 'pub quiz.'(Boys were victorious!).

I received the best piece of advice I've heard in a while; if you're reading a book that you're really not enjoying, there is no law that says you must finish it. No-one's keeping score. How liberating).

I read about Naaman and how he received God's shalom before he went back to serve the king of Aram in the temple of Rimmon. He received the blessing of God even though some of the things he had to do related to his job were compromising his belief in the one true God. How liberating. I wanted some of that shalom.

So from that I returned feeling strengthened and soothed, ready for a busy week ahead. Within 24 hours I was involved in a deeply troubling and complex pastoral situation. Every now and again you come across a situation which seems to have no quick-fix or even long-term fix. This was one of those. A real mess. Yet in the midst of the chaos of people's lives, I sensed the shalom.

The weekend was looming large by now with two busy church services to prepare for and co-ordinate. As two of our own kids were being baptised we also had a load of family descending on us so I needed to be ultra organised, and well on top of things. I'm not normally a panicker but this schedule would have made me tense normally. Not this time. Shalom again.

And yesterday, in the midst of my busiest Sunday so far this year, not a skipped heartbeat, not a hint of a sore head, just a happy tiredness at the end of the day borne of contentedness at the way the day had gone. God was there in it all.

Shalom.

Retreat

(this beautiful photo was taken by my brother Paul in his garden)

Today I go off for 24 hours retreat and reflection. Never quite sure what to expect on these occasions, but the timing of this one is excellent. I'm looking forward to just 'zoning out' and 'tuning in'. Zoning out from all the busyness that swamps the normal day, all the 'phone calls, the weekly deadlines, the unexpected pastoral situations, the ongoing pastoral situations, the different issues that drain my energies. Tuning in to God, His voice, which all too easily gets drowned out by the other 'traffic.'


There will be a few others (16 or fewer) on retreat with me so I'm looking forward to some quality times of worship and sharing as well as some solitude with Bible, books and MP3 player. I've been really impacted recently by the teaching of Rob Bell of Mars Hill church in Michigan. His book 'Velvet Elvis' ought to be compulsory reading for 21st century Christians. I've also got a CD of a message at Spring Harvest by Gerard Kelly to listen to, that a friend sent me.

24 hours? Maybe I need a little longer...

Unfortunately, life can only be put on hold for 24 hours. But when I get back, it's going to be go, go, go. I have a busy programme at church this Sunday with a baptismal service for three of our young people. Exciting times. 21 of them crammed into our small front room last night for their weekly nurture group, 'Deeper.' They're a great bunch of kids (12-17 yrs) and have grown so much this last year in particular. Several baptisms, loads of commitment and love between the group, 3 of them going off on summer mission, 1 going to Camp America. Watch out church, the next generation of leaders is on the way...

Shalom.

Stick to one roadmap

Here I am in familiar surroundings, leading at church. We're a church used to change and lots of it. Sometimes it's hard to catch a breath.

Seven years ago, just after I'd arrived here, the minister (and my boss!) called me up one December morning and asked if I had any plans for lunch. I didn't so he picked me up a few minutes later and we went out to a local hotel for lunch. I asked what the occasion was, and he replied that this was the Christmas staff lunch!

Things have changed and grown since then, with almost 20 attending last year's Christmas staff lunch. Sometimes I have to be primed on the names of the latest staff! The children's area of ministry has grown healthily year on year and the youth scene has exploded, particularly over the last 18 months or so.

That minister, Alan, has now moved on to pastures new (ironically to my home church) and that could have caused sizeable tremors in some churches. However, we have a good team in place, and know that God doesn't abandon us. Along with my colleagues Rob and Margaret (associate pastor and community centre co-ordinator respectively), I look forward to painting on a fresh canvas.

John Lennon once wrote, 'Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans'. As a church leadership team, it's essential to stay focussed on what God's roadmap is saying. It would be easy at a time of transition to allow distractions to blur the view ahead. All sorts of distractions; one's own ideas, ambitions, hobby-horses. Others' attempts to seize a little infuence or empire. Ultimately God is a master builder and only He has the blueprint for us as a church and for us as individuals. Daft to tune in anywhere else really.

Rob Lacey: one of the good guys

It saddened me greatly to hear the news of the passing of Rob Lacey on Monday 1st May after a prolonged fight against cancer. He was 43. Rob was best known as author of 'Word on the Street' aka The Street Bible, also recently published 'The Liberator'. He was also an accomplished actor and established communicator. His insight and innovative approach to communicating God's Word to a new generation made him someone always worth listening to.

The first time I met Rob was when he came to perform his one-man show 'The Prodigal Son' in Dumfries. His dynamic performance blew me away. I met Rob on several occasions over the years after that, at Spring Harvest or various conferences etc, and he always was quick to deflect any kind words about his performance or latest project back , always showing a keen interest in what I was up to. I learnt later that some of these times when we spoke, he would have been in the midst of some of his battles with the cancer that would eventually take him. His paraphrase of Job in The Street Bible was written right in the middle of one such episode. Worth reading.

Remember Sandra, his widow, and their two small children Lukas, 5 and baby Magdalena, only born in April.

Thank you God for Rob. At rest now. No more disease.

Sleaze sleaze sleaze

What a day yesterday was for government politicians. We had the home secretary in an embattled defence of his (growingly untenable) position, related to foreign nationals due for deportation being released from prison. The deputy prime minister announced (or had announced for him) he's been having an affair with a woman who was born the day after he married his wife. The former leader of the Labour party was handed a 6 month driving ban after collecting 15 points on his licence. And these are only the ones we found out about yesterday.

I remember being genuinely thrilled in '97 when Labour swept to power. After 18 years of Tory bullying, they were seen as a great fresh hope. People, and I was one of them, sincerely believed it when Blair et al promised there would be no repeat of the Tory sleaze years. I shook Tony's hand the day before he became PM, on a pre-election walkabout in my home town, which had shamefully been the safest Tory seat in Scotland for years. I was, in those days, a card carrying member of the party. I nailed my political colours to the mast, having worked in a continuingly beleaguered NHS for eleven years.

Now, though, it seems that power has corrupted all but a few of the key players in New Labour. I still remain hopeful of Blair and Brown, in terms of their own individual convictions. But the rabble behind them have disappointed sorely. For Mellor, Hamilton and Parkinson, now read Blunkett, Byers and Prescott.

Politics is not to blame for marriage break ups and sleaze however. Anyone who fails to prioritise their lifestyle so that fidelity and honesty are their watchwords make themselves vulnerable to calamities. Not everyone, of course, is stalked by the scrutiny of the national press. We are all though prisoners of conscience, and have been, ever since Eden. (Garden, not Anthony)

We can all hear the voice inside that guides us as to whether we are erring or not. Choosing to ignore that voice is a choice based on selfishness, or unwillingness to forego a 'forbidden' pleasure. The Bible would call that 'sin.'

Ironically, we sin because God loves us enough to let us. God hates sin. But He loves us enough to allow sin to exist. He doesn't permit it. He cannot abide sin. He cannot be in the presence of sin. God wants us NOT to sin. But He didn't create little robotic people who had no choice but to obey. He gives us choices. I was particularly struck by a comment this week in Rob Bell's brilliant book, 'Velvet Elvis' where he said that just as Heaven is full of people that God loves, so is Hell full of people that God loves. Jesus died for the sins of all the people in Heaven, and He died for the sins of all the people in Hell. The only difference is the choice that the person makes as to how to regard God and what He's done. God has given us the choice. Us. You and me.

Make the right choice. Today.

Manchester Passion

Three days now since 'resurrection day' and I suppose the world will put Easter to bed for another year. Even Woolworths had only a handful of eggs still for sale at £1.99 by lunchtime on Monday. Needless to say, I like a bargain!

My Easter highlight was watching the 'Manchester Passion', a fantastic production shown on BBC TV on Good Friday. As far as I know the people who put it together aren't Christians (maybe that's no bad thing!). It involved a modern version of a passion play, acted out in Manchester city centre live. To attempt to do something like that in modern-day Britain, on what is presumably a major drinking night in the calendar, was ambitious in the extreme.

Then to employ Keith Allen to be narrator and host (as well as Pilate) was inspired casting. Allen is seen as being one of the edgiest, most anarchic of performers and for the producers it must have been a bit like holding a hand grenade for an hour and hoping it didn't go off. Allen didn't. Go off, I mean. He did his job and did it well. There was never a sense of mockery or lampooning. There was a real discipline and faithfulness to the ageless Easter story.

It wasn't preachy. It didn't make me cringe. It was accessible and understandable. The accessibility was enhanced by an imaginative use of modern classic songs by Manchester bands such as The Smiths, New Order and Joy Division. Two stand-out moments for me were Jesus (portrayed superbly by Darren Moffitt) singing 'Love Will Tear Us Apart' during The Last Supper, and when he appeared hundreds of feet above the crowd singing The Stone Roses' 'I Am the Resurrection'. Literally a goosebump moment for me, even at the second time of watching.

So why, oh why, could some Christian groups and churches not resist having a pop at this event? Here were non-Christians taking over a city centre on a Friday night to tell the Jesus story. In a most brilliant and thought-provoking way. For me, there was no controversy, no heresy. Just an honest attempt to convey 1st century acts to 21st century people. Er, isn't that the church's job? Or am I just being too simplistic?

Answers on a postcard...

OK, honesty right away. I'm not perfect. Don't be shocked. I'm not. When you're a 'full-time' Christian (such a misnomer; we should all be full-time) people have a perception that you operate on a superspiritual level. Well, others may, but I don't. I struggle to be a good husband, a good father, a good stepfather, a good colleague, a good pastor; oh and I mean every day.

Don't get me wrong - I enjoy the challenge. But isn't the process messy? Regular pattern. I mess up, I get stubborn about messing up, eventually I go to God for help, He helps, I'm grateful, I forget, then I mess up again.

I know that's not just me. Paul was writing about it 2000 years ago in Romans 7. But I do get mad at ME! Why do I never learn? Of course this is when my mind starts to short-circuit at God's grace; 'cos He is always faithful when I am sometimes faithless.

Ok, sermon over!

Today our seeker-friendly service was focused on the theme of freedom. Based on the story of the rehabilitation of Lazarus (Jesus knew how to spoil a funeral didn't he?!), it explored how we can find freedom from all the things that screw us up, be they in the past, the present, or fears of the future.

My freedom and enjoyment of it was somewhat spoiled by our often unreliable sound engineer turning up 45 minutes late without a care in the world. His reason was that it's just too early in the morning (10am is early?) for him. Which gets me back to the full-time Christian thing from earlier. People in churches should see what they do within the church as ministry. It's not just for the anointed minister to feel and own that responsibility (though goodness knows they do) but for the church member to see their roles as 'doing them as unto the Lord.' It's frustrating when people don't because it displays the wrong values to a watching world. It's a worldy 'doing just enough to scrape by' attitude. It diminishes our potential and adversely affects others' opportunities to fulfil their spiritual capabilities. Ok, a sound guy turning up late isn't the end of the world, but it's indicative. People who 'wing it' will never find out what it's like to soar on wings like eagles.

That's all folks.

Welcome to whoever you are. Why would anyone find what I have to say on the state of the world interesting or worthy of a visit?