At our Annual Congregational Meeting on Sunday, the Members of the church had an opportunity to vote to keep our current name, or to change to a new one. The Members voted to change the name of our church to Northern Lights MCC. You can read more about the ACM in this issue of RN. One of the questions that some people have asked is “Why do we need to change the name?” This is an important question and here is my personal response. There is nothing intrinsically wrong with MCC Newcastle as a name. It has served us well and describes some of who we are – a Metropolitan Community Church in Newcastle upon Tyne. When the church was “born”, those around at the time spent a good while discussing this name – should it be just Newcastle? Should it include Middlesbrough? MCC Newcastle was the name that was decided upon and registered with the Universal Fellowship of Metropolitan Community Churches, and later with the Charity Commission. 

We are given a name when we are born, and we may also choose to change our name to signify a decision or a commitment that we make. I served for many years as lay person in MCC, without feeling the need to be ordained. When I finally made that decision and made a formal commitment to serve God and God’s people, my title was changed from Ms to Reverend. Many couples change their surname when they marry. Lesbian friends of mine have started househunting. One householder asked “Which of you is Mrs Smith?” They replied (with much glee) “We both are!”

MCC Newcastle is going through a time of change. We have already made the decision that we want to have our own building. This will come with opportunities and challenges. Our visioning process brought forward the idea that we are to be light and hope in the darkness. Our new vision image reflects that. We are going to be intentional about reaching beyond our walls to those in the North East (and beyond) who need to hear the Good News of God’s inclusive love for all. We are also going to “put legs on our prayers” and engage more significantly in social action. For me, this fresh commitment to reaching out and to have a building which will better enable us to serve others, is a major step in the life of this congregation. I was not seeking a name change when we embarked upon our visioning process. I have been fascinated to watch as our process has unfolded. I believe that changing our name reflects a new “becoming” of who we are as a community of faith. I can’t wait to see what God has in store for us.

God bless

Cecilia

I have finally realised something that some of you have known about me for some time: I have become one of those grumpy middle-aged women seen moaning at life on television. The other day I went for a walk and saw the most beautiful sunset. As I continued along the pavement, a young man walked towards me, hoodie up, earphones in, gazing intently down at the phone in his hand. I anticipated that he probably wouldn’t even register my existence and moved out of the way. I really wanted to stop him and say “Look up, see the beautiful sunset. You are missing something in the real world because you are blocking it all out.”

The Easter story has similar moments to it. Mary did not recognise Jesus in the garden by the tomb, because she was so wrapped up in her own thoughts, trying to figure what the empty tomb meant. The disciples on the road to Emmaus didn’t recognise Jesus, because they were so focussed on discussing the extraordinary events that been happening – the death of Jesus and the reports of the empty tomb. In both stories, Jesus just had to wait until the individuals were ready to see him. They needed to look up, unstop their ears and really focus in on the present moment.

How often are we like the young man who missed the sunset? Or Mary? Or the disciples? I know that I have to intentionally stop and make myself look around when I am on my walks, or I too, am just caught up in my own internal universe, with ears and eyes closed to what is around me. I even struggle in my quiet time sometimes to see beyond all that is going on for me, to see Jesus waiting patiently for me to experience his presence.

And yet God breaks through into our lives, in spite of all that we do to distract ourselves. It may be through the beauty and power of creation, it may be through a small and unexpected act of kindness, or sometimes in those moments of deep knowing, when we experience with certainty that God is with us. The message of Easter is just that – God is with us. Jesus is sometimes called “Emmanuel”, meaning “God is with us”. Jesus’ resurrection shows us that death cannot separate us from God. Jesus – human and divine continues to exist, continues to be present in unexpected places. I invite you this week to intentionally stop, once each day and really take time to look and listen to the world around you. Jesus is waiting…

God bless

Cecilia

 Life is full of choices. We make choices about the things that are within our control – what to buy, how to spend our spare time etc. Sometimes things happen to us or around us, for example, poor health, redundancy etc which are out of our control. All we can do then is choose how we are going to respond to the situation - emotionally, physically, spiritually. In the church calendar, we are halfway through Passion Week, between the exuberance of Palm Sunday, the solemnity of Good Friday and the joy of Easter Sunday. The story of Easter is full of choices. God chose to send Jesus to live as a human amongst us. Jesus chose to step into his public ministry and some point began to understand that this would lead to his death. At any time, he could have chosen to stop doing what he was doing or leave the country and live peacefully elsewhere. He chose to enter Jerusalem loudly and proudly, sitting on a colt, to express his kingship. This was an audacious way to enter the city and was certainly guaranteed to get the attention of the authorities.

The greatest choice of all though, came in the Garden of Gethsemane. Here Jesus wrestled with all that was to come. He asked to be spared and also submitted himself to God’s will. This for me is the pivotal moment in the Easter story. Jesus chose to let go and let God. All he could do then was to choose how to respond to the events which then unfolded – the betrayal, the trial, the taunting by the soldiers and the forgiveness of the thief, as they hung, slowly dying on the crosses. The rest of the Easter narrative relies on Jesus choosing to let go of his life in the garden.

The resurrection is about restoration. Jesus is restored to wholeness; his body is repaired and revived. His status as the one who is fully divine as well as fully human is given back to him. He is no longer the broken man, pushed and pulled about by soldiers obeying orders. He is able to cut through time and space, appearing to his disciples in locked rooms, at the side of the lake and on the road to Emmaus. In the image of the resurrected and restored Christ, we see the fullness of God’s glory. All human actions, and even the natural process of dying, have been overcome in the power of this restored life. The resurrected Jesus does not choose to gather armies or smite his enemies. He continues to teach and guide his disciples, reaching down the centuries through them to us. We are called by him to choose God, to choose justice, peace and healing – for ourselves and for the world around us. Blessings of a new and restored life to you this Easter.

God bless

Cecilia

The man shook as he told us his story of persecution: we could see the scars on his head and his hands. Another man in the group flinched as someone he didn’t know came into the room. I promised him “You will always be safe here.”  A woman cried as she told me how, as an out and proud Christian lesbian, she had been told she could not become a member of the church that she had been attending for months. “I am so glad to be back here” she said. A charity that works with children hired a room in the building we use, to run an event for LGBT people interested in adoption – “Because we saw you at Pride and thought this would be a good space to hold our event.” These three things all happened in the past month at MCC Newcastle. They are part of what we do, week in, week out. We offer hope and light to our community and beyond. Often it is in small, unseen ways – small gestures of kindness and compassion, such as the regular donations of clothing that people give to the West End Refugee Service. Sometimes we are able to bring hope at big events like Pride and World AIDS Day. People who may never worship with us follow us online and through social media. We are observed at a distance by many individuals, who may turn to us when life changes for them and they need a safe place to be.

A good while ago Mikee preached on Micah 6:8: What does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God. He suggested that at MCC Newcastle we are good at walking humbly with God – our worship is excellent and we offer many ways to go deeper in our spiritual life. He challenged us to really step up and step out in acting justly and loving mercy. This message has stayed with me and has continued to challenge me ever since. How do we move out beyond our church walls and how do we make it easier for groups to see us as a resource to support them in what they do?

This year’s Annual Congregational Meeting marks a key moment in our response to the challenge to love mercy and to act justly. The Board is proposing only two aims, which will help us to put our faith into action. Firstly, we are now ready to start looking for our own building, choosing a venue that is better suited to our needs and that will give us the flexibility to develop our ministries more fully. Secondly, we are going to focus on developing activities that intentionally reach out and serve those beyond our church walls.  We are called to bring hope and light. This is our time.

God bless

Cecilia    

Recently I visited Coventry Cathedral. It is an iconic building, created in the 1950’s after the original cathedral was destroyed by bombing in the Second World War. The modern cathedral is very much of its own time – a fine example of 1960’s architecture with beautiful stained glass and the largest tapestry in the world, on the main wall behind the altar. Coventry Cathedral is renowned for its ministry of peace and reconciliation - hope arising from the ashes of destruction. Its symbol is a cross made from three mediaeval nails found in the rubble of the old cathedral. The whole of Coventry city was severely damaged in the bombing raids. At first, the City Council refused planning permission for the new Cathedral, stating that new homes and schools needed to be the priority. This is understandable, isn’t it? Why build a church when people have nowhere to live or learn or to work? It was a brave decision to say ‘No’ and an equally brave decision to have a change of heart and allow the work to go ahead.

During Christmas 1942, a group of German soldiers were trapped outside the Russian city of Stalingrad. One of the soldiers, Kurt Reuber, was a clergyman and a doctor. Using charcoal, he drew a tender picture of Mary holding Jesus, on the back of a Russian map. Reuber died in a Soviet concentration camp, but his sketch survived and was taken back to Germany. A copy of this drawing, which includes the words, “Light. Life. Love” was sent as a gift to Coventry Cathedral, in recognition of its ministry of reconciliation. It is on display in a chapel dedicated to the Madonna of Stalingrad.

When life is difficult and ugly, things like art and beauty can seem frivolous, pointless even. Yet, in the midst of such terrible times, beauty can bring hope. Every year, thousands of visitors from all over the world come to Coventry Cathedral and also spend time in the ruins of the old Cathedral. There are joint projects with other countries encouraging dialogue and understanding between different groups of people, especially engaging young people. Some people in Coventry may still see the Cathedral as a waste of money or may still be angry at the personal losses that they and their family suffered during the war. For many more though, the stark reminders of how terrible war can be, alongside the healing power of a sacred place, filled with light and colour, is a way of reminding us that hope may arise, even in the darkest times. I invite you to take time to see the beauty around you this week.

God bless

Cecilia