When ‘God’ Says No

I announced at the age of 3 that I wanted to be Archbishop of Allonby. For those of you who don’t know, Allonby is a very tiny village on the west coast of Cumbria. My grandparents had a static caravan there, to which we would often go on holiday. Allonby did (when I last visited) have a small parish church, but certainly has no Cathedral or Archbishop’s seat. I can probably be forgiven for my lack of knowledge of episcopal oversight at such a young age, and you’ll also be pleased to know that my delusions of grandeur were to be short lived. 

This feeling of wanted to be a vicar, at least, never really went away and I explored this seriously when I was 16 or 17 and was told I was too young and to go off and do something else. This I did, and in the process, truthfully, moved away from God a little. The story of how I came back to my faith, now inhabiting it rather than inheriting it, is for another time (spoiler alert for my talk on Sunday evening!) but fast forward to 5 years ago, almost to the month, and I was sat in front of the Diocesan Director of Ordinands (Vicar training woman) about to hear if I had passed the SAS style selection process to be a Vicar called a Bishops Advisory Panel (BAP).

It was a no.

I can’t quite put down in this blog how completely and unutterably heart-breaking that moment was. Even in my time away from church I knew, somewhere deep down, this was what God had called me to, and what I would one day be doing. I was 26 at the time, and so on some level that was 23 years of belief and hope tied up in one moment, only to be broken to smithereens. 

I’m not sure if it was helpful or not, but those around me told me that they were as confused as I was. My DDO agreed I could study part time whilst we worked out what to do next and my vicar was, unusually for him, lost for words.

A close and wise clergy friend of mine said to me at the time “I’m not sure I have ever fully trusted the process of BAPs, but I do trust God to work through the process.” This simply made me a bit angry at God (to be honest) rather than doing anything to help! (At the time anyway).

What was God doing?! Why had ‘God’ said no?

I use the inverted commas because in this instance it wasn’t, actually, God who wrote to me and said ‘no’. It was the panel secretary of the BAP. But when you feel called to something, so deeply, so passionately it’s hard not to hear it as God saying no.

Today is a different story however. Oh the benefit of hindsight! If I were to have my time again I wouldn’t have done it much differently, and certainly wouldn't have done the timing any differently.

Once my vicar re-found his words (it didn’t take long) his thoughts were to the effect of:

“You have no idea why it was a no. It could be as simple as God having the perfect curacy and the perfect first, second and third incumbencies lined up for you, but the timing not being quite right this time round.”

Certainly my calling to St Paul’s (again, a story for another time) feels a little like God has been lining it up, timing wise, for some time.

I do, however, remember all too well that feeling I had 5 years ago. It is so easy for us to become stuck in the moment, to see it from our perspective, to think, even if we don’t say “but God, surely you must understand I am right” – but we don’t see as he does. It says in 1 Corinthians “For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength” – Sometimes we look at our own thoughts and our own wisdom and believe them to be perfect, but in comparison to God’s, it’s foolishness.

There are so many reasons why rubbish things happen, why God can, at times, appear to say no, or simply to remain silent. It’s one of my favourite topics, so I’m sure that in time it will appear here a bit more fully:

At my second BAP one of the assessors said “According to your references you have a fantastic theology of suffering, I’d love to hear it”.

I did, in that moment, feel a bit like the proverbial rabbit in headlights. I was completely convinced he’d read that in someone else’s report, and for a moment I was unable to speak. Nonetheless, I said something along the lines of this:

Throughout my life I’ve experienced a lot of rubbish, from my father dying at a young age, through to less important relationship issues and problems at work. Many of these things I wish hadn’t happened, many of them, I prayed for God to intervene in and then questioned why he hadn’t. As I look back I realise however that he always did. Not in the way I often hoped or imagined, but he always has. Ephesians warns us to be on our guard because our enemy prowls round, waiting to attack. This is right of course, and often he does attack, often he causes things to happen in this world which we would much rather didn’t happen. But God can, and does take the worst that the enemy, and this world can throw at us and weaves it into something far more beautiful than we will ever imagine.

Today, I want to encourage you. If you’re sat looking at the world, feeling like all is lost, things can and will get better. God will work, even the darkest of days into Good. God’s timing is perfect, and his love endures forever.

And a disclaimer - if you feel this post feels a little hopeless, like I'm suggesting God doesn't intervene in very real ways, in the moment, and that prayer hasn't worked - please read one of my previous posts which will prove that is not what I think at all! There is a truth in the 'now and the not yet' of the kingdom of God. The previous posts have largely focussed on the now, this one focusses on the not yet. This is almost certainly another topic I'll revisit at a later date! 

But as for me, I watch in hope for the Lord, I wait for God my Savior; my God will hear me. Do not gloat over me, my enemy! Though I have fallen, I will rise. Though I sit in darkness, the LORD will be my light. (Micah 7:7-8)