Meet Amelia Anne

Meeting Amelia Anne: A father's continuing adventures

Inexpressible

When I first wrote down the areas I wanted to share in the blog, it rapidly became clear that there were some that were simply beyond my capacity to do justice to. I cannot yet resolve in my own head the mix of feelings I had during the labour, watching someone I loved so much do something so hard, so real, so painful, so solitary and yet so beautiful and magical, knowing I would happily trade places with her but never would be able to.

I will also never be able to fully express the joy and relief I had walking into the hospital room in Nyon to find my recovering wife and introducing her to her daughter. Suffice it to say, there were a lot of tears.

Happy Lucky Daddy

A couple of hours after Victoria was stretchered out of the birthing house our magnificent midwife let me know that she was out of theatre and doing fine, which allowed me to sleep a little. When Amelia and I woke up we made a few phone calls and face-timed some grandparents, I took this delightful picture of her all swaddled up and then I had an hour or two alone with my daughter. It occurred to me that I was a pretty lucky guy; how many dads get their child all to themselves in those first few hours? I asked myself what I should do with her. Well, we spent the next couple of hours getting acquainted with the Indigo Girls while I looked at her and laughed and cried at the same time. It was an odd feeling, and one Victoria and I have struggled to articulate, some peculiar combination of joy, gratitude, relief, delight and love, all expressed in this peculiar wet-faced braying.

When I catch V staring at Amelia and crying I know exactly how she feels. It's some raw emotion.

Just Read the Manual

Haynes manuals are great. For non-British folk out there, they are the accepted authority on vehicles of any make or age, a comprehensive set of instructions on how to dismantle, repair and reassemble your vehicular friend. I bet the mechanics down at my local Ferrari garage still refer to their battered copy of 'The F430' when taking apart Herr Schumacher's pride and joy. A quick glance at the internet reveals the breadth of service to which the good people at Haynes have driven themselves. As soon as my battered Corellian freighter needs its hyperdrive realigning, that Millennium Falcon Workshop Manual will surely save me from costly services. Sadly, Amelia didn't come with one, so we're having to work it all out for ourselves. Now, I can't complain at all as she's been a first rate addition to Team Denton so far. She generally only cries when she's hungry or covered in poo, and sleeps a good few hours between feeds. However, when I was left babysitting all by myself during her first week (or 'parenting' as Mrs D calls it) I found myself briefly in need of expert advice. "How long should you let a week old baby cry if you

know she's been recently fed and has a clean nappy?", I asked myself. Well, I didn't know, so not having the relevant Haynes manual I referred myself to the second source of all knowledge: the internet.

Well, I stumbled into a confusing world of conflicting advice. Any of you with children will already be aware of this, but for the yet-to-be initiated, every conceivable position on every single aspect of parenting is firmly held by someone with access to a webpage or publisher. It was best summarised by this blog. I should let her cry it out, clearly, and she would learn to soothe herself this way, and it would definitely scar her for life. I should absolutely pick her up to soothe her and rock her to sleep, unless I wanted to create a dangerous dependency.

This was a useful lesson: NEVER ASK THE INTERNET FOR PARENTING ADVICE!!! I can only assume that from the maelstrom of despair and inadequacy it engendered that I had stumbled across 'the dark web.'

Thankfully, a good friend who's children I know and like came round. Seeing as she evidently knew what she was doing she was able to advise me. Apparently I needed to 'calm down.' I should also feel free to let visiting mums cuddle my adorable child. Also, sometimes babies are hungry off-schedule. I guess Amelia hasn't read the manual. When she gets around to it, I recommend this  one...

Some moments from 52 hour labour (Papa's perspective) #2

Some moments from a 52 hour labour (Papa's perspective) #2

Truth, fear 

There are moments in life where the problem is reality, that one is all too aware of the facts of the matter, and that one is powerless to control them.  An hour after Amelia was born came such a moment. As the wonderful Claire put it, at such times we are all heart; no brain at all.
The birth had gone as smoothly as it could for such a long one. On a handful of paracetamol, my incredible wife had delivered her precious cargo to the world. We were briefly content, attempting to breastfeed and reposing as a family for the first time for a moment. Then of course, the afterbirth needs to come out.

It didn't.

The breastfeeding should have helped.

It didn't.

The injection of oxytocin should have helped.

It didn't.

The midwives' expertise should have been enough.

It wasn't

An hour after the birth, we were told that Victoria simply must go to hospital for a surgical intervention. I watched as an ambulance crew worked with one midwife to strap my now unconscious wife to a stretcher. There seemed to be blood everywhere. One midwife had kept an eye on Amelia and I and kept me busy looking after her, but for a few minutes I was alone, clutching my naked newborn daughter to my chest under a blanket and watching as my tenacious, vivacious wife was carried out the door.

I wept.

I prayed, and I knew God was with me, but counting back the promises in the bible, I knew that not one of them told me Victoria would be OK. He promised to be with me, and that I would be ok as He went through whatever life throws at me alongside me. But I also knew, in a suddenly real way, that Victoria might not be coming back to me.
I could only cling to the facts: the midwives were not too worried, and I was probably reacting out of a state that to call 'tired and emotional' would be utterly to underplay. I should not trust my instinctive fears.

I don't quite know how I got though that moment, looking down at the top of Amelia's head and her tiny hand wrapped around my finger. I only remember praying "not this cup Lord, anything but this", and eventually being OK.



Less than an hour later I heard from the hospital that she was in surgery, out like a light and all was going well. Finally I could join my daughter in her peaceful sleep.

Vanity calling?

Victoria had always wanted a few pictures of the birth; she has a few from her own birth and cherishes them, so I was under strict orders to capture a few salient moments, however inappropriate it felt at the time. I cant tell you how glad I am that I did; those first few shots give me a few concrete places to hang my memories.
Knowing her plan, when we set off to the hospital the first time at 6:00 am, Victoria managed to straighten her hair between contractions.

That took a while.

What a peculiar picture of determination she is.

And how lovely she looks, hair straightened or not!

Naming

You wouldn't think it was that hard, naming a child, other than the draw-jopping terror that in one decision you can ruin a future with comedy initials or a series of awful nicknames. Perhaps that's why it took a couple of days; we really wanted to get it right. My sister-in-law, keen for detailed news, was told weight, length, hair colour and "no name yet." Her alleged response: "What are they playing at, they've had 5 months!" It's true, we had known we were having a daughter for a while. I'm really glad we found out; knowing I was going to have a daughter really helped me bond with D-minor. By the end, we'd narrowed it down to just a few names, each of which we really liked. We just wanted to meet her and see what she looked like. Then things were complicated by the fact she was born on the 23rd April: St George's day and Shakespeare's birthday (Which is incidentally why it's world book night. How cool for a bibliophile to have a daughter for whom to buy books every year!) Should we call her Wilhemina? Georgina? (Georgia had a good chance for half an hour, to be honest. ) How about a Shakespeare character? I liked Cordelia, myself.
In the end, we decided against any new additions. The ultimate call was always going to be Mrs D's, she'd clearly earned the right. At about half past ten, she became Amelia Anne. We hope she likes it; it's quite a responsibility. She's stuck with it for a good long time.

I also wanted it to be shortish. If I'm going to get it tattooed on me somewhere I don't want it to hurt too much!

Some moments from 52 hour labour (Papa's perspective) #1

Some moments from a 52 hour labour (Papa's Perspective) #1

(in no particular order)

And relax...

We walked into the maison de naissance, two and a half days into the epic slog, and our hearts lifted. They sang. The hospital we'd been at that morning had been so efficient, so clinical, so medical, that Victoria's labour all but stopped as her heart sank. There was also the fact that after a night of what felt like such hard work, she'd progressed only as far as 4 cm dilated. The maison at Grens was so warm and cosy, so colourful and soft. There were plenty of places for papa to sit when he needed to keep out of the way. (How wonderful that this was one of Victoria's first thoughts!) Pervading all was a soft persistent smell of lavender, one of my favourite and most soothing scents. Kindly, the following morning the midwife dispatched my daughter and I with a little present; a lavender pillow for her cot, so that feels connected and at home, and little woollen hat, knitted by a lady who lives nearby and could never have children, so has knitted one for  every child ever ushered into the world there.

Within a minute, Victoria was immersed in the giant bath, resting her weary head on a blue U-shaped pillow, and instantly, frankly, at home. This was the place she could work.

Never alone

It goes without saying that a 52 hour labour is a difficult thing, for papa and maman both. That Victoria did it is testament to the hands we were in. Two wonderful midwives working seamlessly as team inspired so much confidence. Friends across continents asked for updates infrequently so as not to pester. Two families here in Switzerland, godparents to Tiger, prayed and prayed and prayed through the whole birth with us. We were in God's hands, which were the very real praying hands of our friends. We will both be eternally grateful.

A welcome surprise.

Towards the end, the midwives gave an ultimatum. As much as they wanted to give Victoria the birth she wanted so much for her baby, she was nearing the end of her prodigious personal resources. 49 hours into labour she was still at 7cm. In 2 hours, they were going to have to make a call; we're ready to push now or you're going back to that hospital to get the medical assistance you need to get everyone through safely. 

Victoria felt the pressure, let me tell you. She didn't think she could do it, that they were going to be cutting our daughter out of her. Nor did she think she could make the drive. I told her she could do it, not believing it myself. She found the strength to keep going, and under some incredibly tender and insightful coaching from Claire and Evelynne, she managed to push on. When we checked again at 2:00 am, she was ready to push.

The pushing part was full of shouting. Three of us were urging Victoria on on in two languages (at this stage she was so exhausted she was losing her French: I was even occasionally translating!). Every time it was "One more!" "Don't stop!" Frankly, for all I was shouting at Victoria that she could do it, I was tired of hearing  "one more push." The twelfth time you hear it, you begin to lose faith. The  hundredth, they're just words. So at 2:47 when Claire said "stop stop Victoria, look!" I though she wanted to show her something, some sign of progress in the mirror, I got the surprise of my life! I'd missed seeing what was going on, I was literally holding Victoria up, so I looked over her shoulder and Voila!, all of a sudden, there she was. My daughter. The child I had known for months inside of my wife, pushing on my hand in church services, wriggling when we watched a little TV, was there in front to me, safe in Claire's hands. A peculiar monochrome intrusion in otherwise colourful world. That moment, when the abstract invisible blessing to come became the daughter I will know and love and raise, was indescribable. In all the busyness, in all the shouting, everything stopped. The world stood still. This rapidly pinkening creature captured my heart and I was overwhelmed by reality. Within a moment she was lying on her mother's chest and holding my hand.

#2 to follow...

Historical veracity!

This is the 2nd of three essays for this term's course. I know that there are one or two of you out there who like a bit of theology, so enjoy. Bear in mind that I haven't been at it for long, and be kind when you comment. This one's a little more reference heavy, sorry about that. Such are academic essays.

How close were the authors of the synoptic gospels to the eyewitness tradition of Jesus’ life and teaching?

‘Many have undertaken to compile a narrative of things that have been accomplished among us, just as those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses have delivered them to us’ (Lk 1.1-2).  So opens Luke’s gospel, third in the canon of the synoptic gospels. In order to establish the veracity of Luke’s claims, how close he was to the sources and to what extent our conclusions can be applied to all three synoptic gospels, I am going to examine a historically held position contrary to Luke’s assertion, and then look at all three gospels to establish that, in all likelihood, the authors of the synoptic gospels were sufficiently close to the eyewitness traditions of Jesus’ life that they can be usefully used as truthful, historical testimony.

            As I will show later, the early church associated the gospels  with eyewitness testimony, but in the early twentieth century, form criticism began to examine the nature of how those accounts were transmitted to the gospel writers. Form critics such as K.L Schmidt, Martin Debelius and Rudolph Bultmann based their work on the studies of German folklore and believed that the gospels were written between 70 and 100 AD after an ‘oral period’ of anonymous circulation when individual traditions or ‘forms’ evolved and changed (Wenham & Walton, 2011, 75). This does not take account of the fact that many original eyewitnesses would still have been alive to see written gospels and to correct any errors. Although the gospel writers were unlikely to be concerned with historical accuracy in the modernist sense, there are many people specifically named in all of the gospels whose stories could have been checked. As Taylor puts it, “if the Form-Critics are right, the disciples must have been translated to heaven immediately after the resurrection.” (Vincent Taylor, The formation of the gospel tradition, 41).

While there is not scope in this brief assignment to fully address the ‘synoptic problem’ of how they came to have so much shared content, some discussion is necessary. A commonly held, although not undisputed view, is that Mark was written first, in the mid to late 60s AD (Wenham & Walton, 2011, 218), and was the source of the Markan material in Matthew and Luke (Wenham & Walton, 2011, 66 and Gooder, P, Timelines: The Gospel of Mark, an introduction).  Furthermore, there is good evidence to support the view that Mark was Peter the apostle’s scribe in Rome. Bishop Papias is quoted by Eusebius in the early second century as saying “Mark, became Peter’s interpreter, and wrote down accurately, but not in order, all that he remembered” (Eusebius, 114). Moreover, there are structural clues in the gospels: Mark is much shorter, supporting the hypothesis that Matthew and Luke added their own separately-sourced material, and yet many of the individual stories are longer in Mark, supporting the hypothesis that Matthew and Luke edited the material.  Other evidence (Wenham & Walton, 2011, 66) supports the widely, though certainly not universally accepted view that it is reasonable that Matthew and Luke wrote their gospels using, and therefore after, Mark, and that Mark’s gospel was based directly on the eyewitness testimony of one of the primary participants in Jesus’ life and teaching. If this is true, then all of one gospel and a significant portion of the two other synoptic gospels were written from first hand accounts.

            Yet more evidence that Mark dates to earlier than the Form Critics believed is Mark’s inclusion of Jesus’ prophecy that the temple will be torn down (Mk 13.2), an act which we know occurred in 70AD. Scholars are divided as to whether it was written before this event, as prophecy, or after it, as reaction, but in either case date the writing of Mark to within just a few years of 70AD (Gooder, P, Timelines: The Gospel of Mark, an introduction).

            If then we accept that Mark was written between 67 and 73 AD, what of the other Gospels? Assuming Markan priority, Matthew and Luke must have been written afterwards, fixing the earliest date in the ranges. Many scholars date Matthew to the Jamnian council of c. 90AD, but some argue for an earlier date (Wenham & Walton, 2011, 236), and in terms of Luke, Paula Gooder tells us that ‘the vast majority of scholars make it 80-90 AD’ (Gooder, P, Timelines: Gospel of Luke). With dates for Matthew and Luke’s gospels established within 40 and 60 years of Jesus crucifixion, we can see that it is quite feasible for the authors to have collected eyewitness testimony in the years prior to setting their gospels down.

            Having looked at the time of Matthew and Luke, what can be said of the authors’ access to eyewitness traditions? The traditional view is that Matthew was written by the apostle Matthew, featured in that gospel. Certainly the gospel was associated with having been written by a Matthew from at least the 2^nd century (Wenham & Walton, 2011, 235), although whether or not that Matthew was the apostle is unclear (Wenham & Walton, 2011, 236). That said, Paula Gooder says that ‘it is probably sensible to associate that Matthew (i.e., the Matthew of the titular author) with the Mathew of Mathew’s Gospel’ (Gooder, P, Luke’s Gospel, Timelines). In that case, Matthew’s gospel contains not only second-hand eyewitness accounts, but is based also upon the first-hand eyewitness testimony of one of Jesus’ close circle of 12.

            We know from Colossians that Luke, the author of Luke’s gospel as well as the book of Acts, was a gentile physician and travelling companion of Paul (Col 4.14). What person could have had better opportunity to gather eyewitness accounts, travelling the length and breadth of the early Christian world? Visiting churches all around the Mediterranean must have exposed Luke to many of the tradents.

            Even if Matthew the apostle was not the author of Matthew, the presence of the Markan material, as in Luke’s gospel, indicates the practice of those authors of using eyewitness testimony. This is certainly not unusual. Recently, scholars such as Byrksog, Dunn and Bauckham have established that ancient historians placed the highest value on eyewitness accounts from participants in the events. Bishop Papias in his 2^nd century work writes that he preferred recent 1^st or second hand oral testimony from eyewitnesses for he ‘did not think that information from books would help (him) as much as the word of a living, surviving voice’ (Eusebius, 112. italics mine). According to Byrksog, Graeco-Roman historians only regarded historical writing as valid if it was written within a generation of events, and they saw eyewitness testimony as crucial (Wenham & Walton, 2011, 84), an approach very similar to modern oral history and one that fits entirely well with Luke’s claim at the beginning of his gospel.

            To conclude, the synoptic gospels were written within sufficient time of the events that they relate, and by authors with sufficient access to main protagonists and at a time when the standard for historical writing was such that they are likely to be very close to the traditions of Jesus’ life and teaching, despite their differing treatments of that material.

Bibliography, for any who are interested.

Bauckham, R. (2006) The Gospels as Eyewitness Testimony.  Eerdmans Publishing Company

Taylor, V (1933) The formation of the gospel tradition. Macmillan

Eusebius (translated 2007, Paul L Maier) The Church History. Kregel Publications

Wenham, D & Walton, S (2011) Exploring the New Testament Volume 1 (Gospels and Acts) (2^nd edition).  SPCK Publishing

Gooder, P (date unknown) Timelines DVD (Various sections) St John’s Nottingham.

(DVD accessed online at http://stjt.org.uk/NT_and_OT/NT/ )

Mark's gospel: a portrait of discipleship.

My first essay for my theology and ministry course. 

What does Mark's gospel tell us about the disciples? What does that tell us about discipleship?

Often, readers of the bible garner their picture of the disciples from accounts across all four gospels, giving an even-handed view of their positive and negative attributes. I will show that in viewing Mark in isolation, that sole viewpoint (based largely on that of a single disciple, Peter) could give rise to a negative impression of them, but a deeper examination of the picture both explicit in the narrative itself and implicit in the situation in which the gospel was read, shows a parallel positive view. Focusing on Mark alone shows the reality and cost of following Jesus Christ though the lives, successes and failures of his disciples, and ultimately, the inevitable redemption when we dedicate our lives to him. Mark’s message on what it means to follow Jesus is that it is very costly and yet very rewarding, a path of failure, grace and success. All this, of course, is a pre-Pentecostal portrait of discipleship, written and read by a post-Pentecostal audience, which has profound implications for the message of Mark.

         Mark is a clearly Peter-centric gospel. On a first reading of Mark, one could very easily walk away with a rather negative view of the disciples, and especially Peter, as I will show. The first disciple Jesus called was Simon Peter, and he plays an understandably prominent role in Mark’s gospel. Richard Bauckham, amongst other modern New Testament scholars, subscribes to the view that Mark was with Peter in Rome and based his gospel “extensively on Peter’s eyewitness testimony.” (Bauckham, 2008, 14). Mark’s probable close relationship with Peter has given him opportunity to see the events of Jesus’ ministry through Peter’s eyes. In Mark, with Peter playing a prominent part in so many stories, he is a character with whom it is very easy to identify. When we talk of the portrait of the disciples we get from Mark, it is in many ways the portrait of Peter.

         Peter’s reputation is especially tarnished in Mark 14 to 16. At the last supper, Jesus tells his disciples that they will “all fall away, for it is written, ‘I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered.’ But after I am raised up, I will go before you to Galilee” (Mk 14. 28). This is more than just a warning of their betrayal, it is a picture of redeeming love and future forgiveness, but just as Jesus is telling them that everything will be fine after their betrayal, Peter jumps in and all but calls Jesus a liar. His proud boast that he will never betray Jesus and subsequent shame at Jesus’ prophecy coming true just hours later is the crowning moment in Mark’s picture of the disciples’ failure. It must have had an alarming impact when it was first read, for the audience would surely have known that this was the same Peter who went on to be Bishop of Rome, the rock on which Jesus built his church.

         It wasn’t just this final betrayal that casts the disciples in a grubby light. They are often not portrayed as the most insightful men. In fact this has the added bonus for us, inasmuch as they sometimes function like the ‘idiot’ character in modern TV and movies to whom the detective explains the plot, allowing the rest of us mortals an insight. Consider the explanation of the parable of the sower (Mk 4.  1-9) that Jesus explains to his hard-of-thinking disciples (Mk 4. 13-20); without Jesus’ patient explanation to his followers, we may never have known the thrust of the parable.

         There are many other incidences of the disciples letting Jesus down or getting it wrong. They are depicted as fearful, not just of circumstances such as Jesus’ arrest, when the all flee (Mk 14. 50) but also of Jesus himself when his holy power and authority is revealed. Peter is called Satan himself when he rebukes Jesus for speaking of his coming execution, and told he has his mind ‘on the things of man’ and not on ‘the things of God’ (Mk 8. 31-34). They seem stunned when Jesus calms the Storm (Mk 4. 35-41) and understandably completely terrified by the sudden presence of Elijah and Moses and Jesus’ radiant magnificence at the Transfiguration (Mk 9. 2-13). Their lack of faith is evident when they are unable to drive out a demon from a suffering boy (Mk 9. 14-29), perhaps an entirely understandable situation, but a similar lack of faith is harder to empathise with when they cannot fathom how Jesus will feed 4000 people with some loaves and fishes, despite having already seen him feed 5000 in the same manner (Mk 8. 1-9).  Then again, there is the self-serving and rather childish request of James and John to sit at Jesus’ side in Heaven, as if they could guarantee special favour by sneakily getting their request in first (Mk 10. 35-37).

         The last few chapters of Mark can only be described as the disciples’ nadir, demonstrating a litany of grievous failures. There’s Peter’s aforementioned denial, Judas’ selling of Jesus to the Pharisees (Mk 14. 10-11), their collective failure to stay awake, the violent action of one of them who strikes out with a sword when Jesus is arrested (identified as Peter in John’s gospel: Jn18. 10) and finally the abandonment by all twelve disciples (Mk 14. 50), “And they all left him and fled.” They receive no further mention; Mark does not even place them at the crucifixion; in his final hours, Jesus is attended only by “Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of Jesus, and Salome” (Mk 15. 40).

         All that being said, Mark does give us a much more rounded view of the disciples than simply this litany of their failures, with explicit stories of their successes as well as an implicit message through the context. Right at the start of the gospel, Jesus calls them away from their nets, to follow him and become fishers of men (Mk 1. 16-20), which they do. They follow him, despite all his dire warnings about what that will mean. They might come across as a little dim-witted at times, but surely some of the picture Jesus paints sinks in. He regularly speaks of his own death, and even tells them that the cup he drinks, they will drink, and that the baptism with which he is baptised, they will be baptised (Mk 10. 39). He often points out that their greatness will be measured in the depths of their suffering and lengths of their service to others, that they must ‘deny themselves and pick up their cross’ if they are to follow him, that they are to ‘lose their lives’ (Mk8. 34-37) and yet they stick with him. We know that they were aware of the cost of following him, Peter speaks of them leaving everything to follow him (Mk 10. 28), but it seems more like an acknowledgement than a complaint. They seem content to be itinerant students, cut off from the world and even from their families to be with Jesus and each other.

         They also embrace Jesus’ counter-cultural positions, even at risk to themselves. They are happy to consort with ‘sinners’ alongside him, even welcoming Levi the tax collector to their midst (Mk 2. 13-17); they move regularly among the gentiles and they follow his flexible approach to the Sabbath laws (Mk 2. 23-28).

         Not only are they tenacious, they are successful: Jesus sends them out on what seems to be the least well-equipped mission ever, but they go out, preaching the gospel, healing many and casting out demons (Mk 6. 7-13). They might not be the most insightful of men, but it is Peter who first recognises Jesus as Messiah shortly before the Transfiguration (Mk 8. 27-30).

         To conclude, Mark conveys a rich message about what it means to follow Jesus, clearly signalling pros and cons. There will be suffering, service and costly love. We are left in no doubt that our lives will not follow an easy path if we follow Jesus, for we will tread the path he trod, but for all the pain that may come our way, we should not be dismayed. The disciples, despite the difficulties and failures, are close to Jesus. They are cut off from the world, but gain access to a wonderful new family in the Kingdom of God, not to mention eternal life (Mk 10. 29-31). They are together constantly in a close-knit fraternity, a picture of what life in Christ can be; one lived alongside ‘brothers’ and ‘sisters’ (Mk3. 31-35).

         Mark also makes clear that there will be failure; that even true disciples of Jesus will let him down with lack of insight, lack of faith, lack of courage and lack of humility. That we may, temporarily, even turn away from him for our own sakes, but in coming back to him we will find redemption and forgiveness. Jesus tells them that he will ‘go before them to Galilee’ before their betrayal (Mk 14. 28), and he has this same message for them after his resurrection (Mk 16. 7). Unlike the other three gospels, Mark gives us no account of the disciples’ reunion with Jesus after the resurrection, there is none of John’s tender depiction of Jesus’ rehabilitation of his relationship with Peter, just this simple statement: I told you I would meet you, and I will. Nonetheless, it can surely be assumed that the post-resurrection reputation of these men as powerful leaders of the early church was secure and widespread, and it is that reputation with which Mark contrasts their failures.

Finally, the fundamental message of discipleship implicit in Mark’s gospel is of the futility of trying to live Christian life without the power of the Holy Spirit. These men, the bedrock of the early church, went on to create and lead an organisation that persevered and flourished in the face of every imaginable adversity. These self-same men, heroes of the faith, proved to be fearful, selfish, proud, ignorant, faithless and untrustworthy time and again. If they couldn’t do it without the Holy Spirit, walking literally side-by-side with Jesus, what hope to we have? Conversely, to quote Mark himself out of context, “With man it is impossible, but not with God. For all things are possible with God.” (Mk 10. 27)

I get a kick out of you

Last Thursday Victoria texted me at work:

"I just felt baby kick today. Woo Hoo!"

 I have to say I didn't know what to feel other than happy and quiet. I guess the only word for this is awed. It's incredible that already, just 5 days later, V says the kicks can be felt from the outside and I'm excitedly looking forward to the first time that happens when I'm around!

These really are the fun bits of pregnancy, as far as I can see. We're at week 20, with 20 to go, so well into the second trimester. V is still healthy and energetic enough to cycle to work and do some aerobics, but the bump is now clearly that of a pregnant lady, and V doesn't have to worry about being mistaken for an enthusiastic pie eater! 

We're also at that point where everyone knows about it. It's odd that that doesn't come till after that 12 week scan, because the run up to then was actually when we needed the most support. Now that that support is freely available, it's less critical. Those weeks from 6-12 wre the hardest; V was super nautious and tired all the time and we were both worried about an early miscarriage, having got that far before. Looking back I'm so glad we had taken the decision not only to tell our families but also a couple of really close friends over here. I wish there was less of a taboo about talking about miscarriages. It isn't until you have one and friends come out with their sympathies and experiences that you realize just how common they are. I think we've missed a trick there.

Next week we'll have our 'morphology scan,' or as many of us know it, THE GENDER SCAN! It is apparently controversial that I want to know the gender of D-minor; many of our friends react with either surprise or a little judgement when I tell them how excited I am to find out if I'm having a son or a daughter (you soon get used to people's freely given opinions and judgements when you're expecting!). I suspect that this whole adventure is already incredibly real for v, especially with her insides now being rearranged on a daily basis, but for me as an apparent ENFP, the ability to visualize the future as a parent seems like too good a gift to turn down.

Anyway, that's it for now, my short return to the blogosphere. Let's see if this theme lends itself to continuation...

The Hunger, my thoughts on our small group

This was originally posted in June on the St Georges website, www.stgeorgesleeds.org.uk
I thought it was worth reposting, people seemed to have enjoyed it...

The Hunger

Posted on June 1, 2012

Rob and Victoria Denton have been small group leaders for a few years; as they are soon to move to Geneva, Rob shares their story of being small group leaders and what God is doing in their network. 

What have you valued about small groups and being in a network?

Let me say this: our small group, ‘The Hunger,’ is the best at St George’s, if not in the world! Of course, I would say that, and it regularly delights me to hear other small group leaders say that theirs is the best too. Our small groups at St G’s are led with passion and devotion. I have always found that enthusiasm easy to come by as I get so much from my group; I mostly feel more like a member than a leader.

We’re called ‘The Hunger’ because we eat together every week, and we strive to have a hunger for God. Eating together every week is fabulous, we really get to know each other and it’s such a great way for new members to integrate quickly. It’s also a great way to serve each other. Different members of the group take in turns to bring pudding, lay the table and wash up. Obviously, it’s great for me and Vic not to have to worry about all the clearing up, but more that I have come to really cherish these times of working together. Some of the most frank, tender, real, emotional and accountable conversations have happened elbow to elbow over the kitchen sink.

Another hugely valuable aspect of The Hunger has been the prayer diary that we keep. Every few weeks we go back through it to see how the situations we have lifted to God have changed. Seeing our humble requests dealt with over time has massively grown my faith in a God who cares for the details of my life and is involved in them, and who loves it when I involve myself in his world through Him. It’s also been fabulous from an accountability point of view. If the group sees me asking for help with the same stuff week on week (reading my bible, say), they start to intervene and ask helpful questions. How much effort have I put in? How organised have I been? Would I like a reminder by text every few days? Having a safe place to be honest and kept true to ones intentions is absolutely one of the shining highlights of time in a small group.

The network has been a recent blessing too. For a start, it’s been the place our new members have come from. It’s also provided some great social times. Having had several now we’re starting to get to know one another better. Only meeting more rarely, this has taken time, but I now cherish the relationships I am building. It’s great to turn up a Saturday morning Bible track seminar and be able to talk to a wider bunch of people than a couple of years ago. It’s called a network, and that’s just what it does.

What has been the highlight over the years?

There are just too many to mention, but here’s three that highlight the generosity of spirit the integrity and commitment to spiritual truth that is the hallmark of the group:

• The Hunger painted most of my house. I love looking at different rooms and remembering the fellowship that went into them.
• Ex members returning for parties. You might move on from the Hunger, but you never leave. It’s so gratifying to see the depth of relationship borne out by people who have moved on in life still feeling at home in group.
• When we were up to eyes in DIY and on a tight schedule, 2 of the group mucked in with power tools to lay flooring at 9pm after the session while the rest of the group tidied up and cleaned around us. What a team effort, and we didn’t even have to ask!
• Seeing people recently battle though some really difficult theology about same-sex relationships so sensitively, without anger or judgement, and come out the far side still loving each other and with a wider point of view. I was really proud of us then.

What has been God doing in your life in the last few years as leaders?

I feel like God has put me on a real road to deeper discipleship and leadership in the last few years. It’s been a privilege to be asked to give sermons at Community Church and Wrangthorn this year, as well as a couple of Alpha talks. I’m really curious as to where this is going and I’m starting to feel a real calling to more of it, but moving to Geneva takes it in unexpected directions. Let’s just see where that goes.

What is your prayer for Networks at St Georges?

I pray that networks help people connect to each other and feel at home in the church. I pray that they are source of comfort, truth, fellowship, joy, service and love. I pray they give everyone at St G’s a chance to feel included and a real part of the family. I see so much of this growing already, and I give thanks to God for that.