New Beginnings
In the corner of our garden we have a somewhat overgrown Hawthorn tree. I love its wild, dense tangle of branches and, in spring, it is covered in a beautiful white blossom. Through the summer its green foliage provides a good bit of cover in that corner of the garden, and through all the seasons it is a rich habitat for all kinds of wildlife.
This year just about all of the leaves dropped off in early August and it’s already looking bare. It’s not autumn yet, so a quick bit of research online (thank you Google) showed that the most common reason for this is leaf blight caused by a fungus. Apparently, to help control it we need to rake up the dead leaves and prune the tree back (which is way overdue anyway). That should help it to recover and we should be able to enjoy beautiful fresh blossom again next spring.

Looking at its unseasonably bare branches reminded me of a time when we lived in Coventry and I was still working as a consultant in industry.
I remember a particularly difficult autumn in 2004… I‘d cut down my hours of work, and given up a lot of the volunteer roles I’d had in church, in order to make time to study for ministry. As a result, we were struggling financially, and I was missing the people and activities that I’d been involved in. On top of that I was not particularly enjoying the area of theology that I was studying at that time. I felt low and somewhat overwhelmed by essay deadlines, the pressures of work, the demands of a young family and financial concerns. God seemed very distant and I questioned the point of all that I was doing. I remember looking out of our kitchen window at a tree that was being battered by a November storm. All but one of its leaves had fallen and that one remaining leaf was being tugged and twisted by the wind. It seemed to sum up exactly how I felt, battered and hanging on by a thread. I remember thinking that it would get worse; that last leaf would inevitably fall and in the cold of the winter the tree would appear to be dead… BUT then, eventually, spring would come again and new life would emerge. Even though God seemed distant, bizarrely the whole reflection on the tree seemed very much lead by him. I recall that the months that followed were particularly difficult as I skirted the edges of depression and slogged away at my work and my studies. I hung on to the promise that spring would come again and in March 2005, at a study weekend at college I had a fresh encounter with God’s love. It was as if I could give him my burdens, the depression lifted and when I came home I found that same tree was covered in blossom. Spring had arrived.
Over the years since that time there have been many times when things have been far more difficult than they were in the winter of 2004/5, but there have also been many times of joy and celebration.
Looking back on our lives, all of us will remember times of struggle and times of joy; times when all hope seamed lost and times when our cup overflowed; times when everything seemed dark and times of brilliant light. Looking ahead, we can be sure that there will be similar times of darkness and light; as it says in Ecclesiastes 3, ‘For everything there is a season…’ But we can also be sure that God will be there with us in all the good and the bad; celebrating and joining in with our joy… weeping with us and carrying us in our brokenness.
The Covid-19 pandemic has brought with it some very dark times. Many people are struggling with the loss of a job or a business, anxiety over possible redundancy, the loss of so many opportunities to meet with people and the isolation that can cause, let alone the grief over having lost someone that they love. A grief that can be compounded by the restriction on numbers meaning they were unable to have a proper funeral that celebrates the life of their loved one.
Yet in the darkness of this time there have been moments of light. It has been uplifting to see the way that communities have looked to support the most vulnerable among them throughout the lockdown. It has been encouraging to see the way that many local businesses and their staff have looked for innovative ways to keep going and support local people. It has been inspiring to see the dedication of many health care professionals as they have served the ill and the elderly in our hospitals, care homes and elsewhere.
Mindful of all that people are facing we are introducing two new ministries to the area this autumn:
· The Bereavement Journey: a course to help anyone (no matter what their faith) to process the grief they feel at the loss of a loved one
· Kineton Rebound: a range of new services, starting with a course to help people in Kineton and the local area, explore and find a job that they love
In the present darkness, though God may seem distant to some of us, we can be sure that he is right here with us, and no matter how battered and lifeless our ‘tree’ might look at the moment, we can hold onto the promise that spring will come again.
Rev Barry Jackson