Alternative Sunday

Last night, when I was snug as a slug under my covers, I decided with God that if it was a nice day on Sunday, I'd go out into the wild Wincheap fields instead of going to church. You see, I sleep with my Bible - boy am I holy - but lately it's just been resting there next to me, hibernating. So I radically thought, "right, tomorrow things are going to change". I woke up at the same time as I would for church and saw a bright orange light behind my curtains. I jumped out of bed, pulled the curtains and smiled with relief - my curtains weren't in flames - it was the beautiful sunshine trying to get into my room, beckoning me to get out there, somewhere, where the vegetation was lush and inviting. After drinking a freshly made orange juice and eating a cereal bar imported all the way from Geneva, I was ready to embark on my adventure.

My feet took me not too far away from my house, to hilly fields covered with cow poo, but it was all very charming in its own little way. In the middle of one of the fields mini cliffs appeared - it was almost like having a miniature set of the white cliffs of Dover in my backyard. It was an unusual site, but I sat at the edge of the cliffs and the sun shone with all its might right where I was sitting. I took out my sunbathing towel, lay on it and... well no, the story doesn't actually go like that. I took out a bright pink Superdrug bag, sat on it and started reading 1 Corinthians. Half way through, I was overcome with a desperate need to use the toilet. My pretty and subtle pink bag wasn't protecting me from the cold earth's chill either, which didn't help decrease the need. I carefully examined my surroundings and speculated the possibility of releasing my bladder fluids somewhere hidden from the eventual public eye. Like a child on a scavenger hunt determined to find the treasure, I searched the place until I finally found the ultimate perfect pee spot!

Come on, don't pretend like you've never done it... It was a tame response to the legacy the cows had left me, really.

I regained my seat on my plastic bag, suprisingly no cows had started chewing on my belongings, and I resumed my reading. I focused my attention mainly on Paul's analogy of the body of the Church, every part of it being vital and unique. I also looked at spiritual gifts and the key role of love. Reading it in the Message was really refreshing and what I read caught my attention as if reading it for the very first time. It was excellent! I found this particularly inspiring, hope you can feast upon it too :)

Love never dies. Inspired speech will be over some day; praying in tongues will end; understanding will reach its limit. We know only a portion of the truth, and what we say about God is always incomplete. But when the Complete arrives, our incompletes will be canceled. When I was an infant at my mother's breast, I gurgled and cooed like any infant. When I grew up, I left those infant ways for good. We don't yet see things clearly. We're squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won't be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We'll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us! But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love. Go after a life of love as if your life depended on it - because it does.
1 Corinthians 13: 8-13, 14:1a

I think I should do what I did this morning more often than I do - take my Bible on a trip to cliffy fields that is (with an empty bladder, I'll know for next time). Not instead of church, but I definitely left my cow-pooped field overflowing with something I didn't have when I made my way there. I haven't put words to it yet, but I stood up after my morning out sitting in God's glorious sunshine, and felt replenished by God's nourishing Word and presence. I'd like to go out there once a week, but it must remain a secret, as I fear that officially calling it a weekly commitment might kill the excitement that motivates it...