{"id":60,"date":"2021-02-24T22:56:00","date_gmt":"2021-02-24T22:56:00","guid":{"rendered":""},"modified":"2025-01-21T10:43:11","modified_gmt":"2025-01-21T10:43:11","slug":"be-loved","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/agoodknowing.com\/index.php\/2021\/02\/24\/be-loved\/","title":{"rendered":"Be Loved"},"content":{"rendered":"

 Be loved<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

“<\/span>And no one pours new wine into old wineskins. Otherwise, the wine will burst the skins, and both the wine and the wineskins will be ruined. No, they pour new wine into new wineskins.”<\/span> Mark 2:22 <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

The wine, we think, is fine. The skins, we are musing, might be a little funky. Over-stretched. Well-worn. Unlike the wine they don’t improve with aging. But the wine is fine. And so we begin, again, to design some skins. The.best.skins.ever. We make time to discuss the shape and material used. The style of the wine-bearer is brought to the discussion, and how many accessories are 2021. There is energy in the room. A kind of hope. <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

The thing is, the wine is alive and it is glorious. Skins can be useful. They can carry the wine and that too has a function. But the wine is for drinking, and the glory of their bursting reminds us that they are there to serve the drink only. <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Maybe we should use our time to sip the wine slowly and register its notes. We should use our olfactory senses and inhale the fragrance it releases and talk about its composition, history and the stories it holds. Maybe we should drink deeply, often, with others and enjoy both the wine and the fellowship of appreciation. <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Maybe if we did the skins wouldn’t seem too important anymore. <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

It’s on this conclusion that I’ve paused for quite some time, wary of my tendency to default, to think that I now understand. Aware of the jaded hue that decorates me right now, and the salty wounds I’m licking. Too much time. The question I was carrying sounds something like this: if we aren’t investing time talking skins these days, what are we creating?  The answer I hear is this: <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

We’re not bringing a new play to the team. We are introducing a new game. <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

The answer, as usual, carries more questions than it satisfies. As usual I need a guide to help me see. In kindness the 3God points me toward John the beloved. In his company, they suggest, I might begin to understand the nature of the game. <\/span><\/p>\n

I open the book hoping perhaps I’ll meet him there, but there’s no quickening, and I’ve learnt not to chase the encounter.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Some weeks pass uncounted in the strange way of lockdown two, but I pause to mark February 14th. It’s a quarter of a century since Jon asked me to marry him. And it does actually feel that long ago. I pull my boots on to go collect some paint from Screwfix, and enjoy the lightness of gratitude. We’ve worn well together, and love has been good. <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

At the end of my street there is an old car park, and the remaining scraps of wood from a demolished pub are littered around. I notice a young man perched on some bollards, and as I approach he beckons me over. Always curious I walk towards him. He’s younger than I thought. He’s not from around here as his eyes sparkle with an intensity that pollution dulls. It takes me a minute before I remember that I’m waiting to meet John. He smiles and nods to acknowledge my conclusion. <\/span>John the beloved<\/span>! I say it out loud and a little too loud. Good start. He laughs and we touch elbows in the way of 2021. <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Did you ever drink here?<\/span> He asked, indicating the plot of land that once hosted the Gallopers Pub. <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

On occasion, well in the teeny window before kids<\/span>, is my laughing reply. <\/span>And play pool. That was fun, even if you were rubbish at it. People say that pubs are dying off in this country, but we will see if that changes now. And you? <\/span>I ask him. <\/span>Do you frequent pubs often? <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

On occasion. <\/span>He laughs<\/span>. I enjoy the fellowship.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

There’s something very lovely about this young man. He speaks slow and gentle, and I can meet his eye contact unflinching. <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

I like your questions. <\/span>He states. <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Thats a relief<\/span>, I laugh.<\/span> They’re pretty much all I’ve got right now. But I am seeking answers, or something like answers. It doesn’t feel good that after two millenia we can still be found barking up the wrong tree. <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Literally. <\/span>Is his response. <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Its relentlessly noisy sitting next to the dual carriageway, but I guess life is noisy. It doesn’t seem to bother sparkly John. <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Answers<\/span>, he muses<\/span>. Well, you’re right that the wine is alive. And good.  It’s no good kept in skins. Even the most beautiful of skins. Who would visit a wine museum over a wine tasting party?<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

He has the rhythm and pace of a story-teller, this John. His speaking voice intones a melody that holds my attention:<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

I joined a zoom call a few days ago in London. No one noticed. Some church leaders were talking about landscapes and rebuilding. Assessing collateral damage and all that. Asking where “the church” should gravitate to find new congregations. I found it strange to listen to them wonder where people would gather in the future. People. As though they aren’t people too. Your Dad’s family would get it sooner. The ones who ran pubs in the East End. They knew why people gathered around them. They knew that when one tankard was raised all were, even in a room full of strangers. We were created for union: many cups, sharing the fellowship of one drink. After the call ended I concluded that the leaders might have stayed sober a little too long. <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

He winks at me. <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

So thats what we’re creating<\/span>, I ask, <\/span>watering holes? That sounds fun.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Yes and no<\/span>. Is his answer. <\/span>You’ll see. <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

But will you show me, really? <\/span>I ask. I’m afraid that I won’t be able to figure this out alone. It’s too hard, and there are so many opinions.<\/span> <\/span><\/p>\n

I will<\/span> he says. And he puts his hand on mine in a way that isn’t very 2021. I look at our hands touching skin to skin. No apology. It feels good.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

I love fellowship, he says, and I love the wine. I still seek out the places where both are enjoyed. And right now, he said, I’m seeking out those who are willing to exchange judgement for love. For good. <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

How?<\/span> I ask. I want that so much, but I don’t know how to change.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Be my drinking buddy<\/span>. He said. <\/span>I’ll show you how to fellowship with them, and what it looks like here when love consumes you. For two thousand years I have made disciples in this way. And all that is good here flows from this connection. From union. Love infuses the wine and is the currency that buys it. Love crafts the details of the gatherings where wine is enjoyed. Love is there when the heart and stomach are satisfied and we go out to shape our world. <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

I feel dizzy as he talks and my hand is warm under his. Hope dances in my belly. It sounds weird but I’m sure the grey of the concrete looks prettier under my feet. <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

He laughs as he clocks the direction of my gaze. <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

It’s actually very earthy, this<\/span>. He says. <\/span>As practical and yet romantic as buying paint on valentines day to make your home lovely. I’ll find you in your week, and I’ll show you. <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

He kisses my forehead and when I look up I can’t see him. But my belly still dances and for the first time in a long time I’m dreaming about gathering with others, around the 3, and sharing the cup.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

That has to be good.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

 Be loved “And no one pours new wine into old wineskins. Otherwise, the wine will burst the skins, and both the wine and the wineskins will be ruined. No, they pour new wine into new wineskins.” Mark 2:22  The wine, we think, is fine. The skins, we are musing, might be a little funky. Over-stretched. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_crdt_document":"","_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_uf_show_specific_survey":0,"_uf_disable_surveys":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-60","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorised"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/agoodknowing.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/60","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/agoodknowing.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/agoodknowing.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/agoodknowing.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/agoodknowing.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=60"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/agoodknowing.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/60\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":99,"href":"https:\/\/agoodknowing.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/60\/revisions\/99"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/agoodknowing.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=60"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/agoodknowing.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=60"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/agoodknowing.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=60"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}