Energised

Remember the Energizer Bunny that kept on keeping on? It was powered by Energizer alkaline batteries that apparently helped it to outlast the competition. 

I love teaching the Year 7 Band. Helping students learn an instrument and play it in a 42-piece band with passion and control is both a significant challenge and a great joy, one that energises me and my amazing team every lesson. Things were going along beautifully in Term 1, when suddenly they found themselves at home with their instrument and a laptop, cut off from the support of tutors and band peers. Now they had to contend with a host of uncontrollable variables such as wifi, siblings, motivation and what must feel like an awful solitude. 

This week, the band will play together for the first time in eleven weeks. In Zoom lessons some have persevered, some have barely managed to keep up, while others have found the going just too tough and have fallen by the wayside. 

This struggle is a familiar one for all of us; as if life wasn’t difficult enough already, we’ve had new challenges thrown in our path - the road marathon just became an obstacle course. To survive, we need something really special. Not just the best batteries, but something out of this world. 

It just so happens that Jesus knew that we would need something like this, so he repeatedly told his first group of mates to wait for it and he would send it. And the church celebrated last week the arrival of that express package; the tongues of fire in the upper room that heralded the arrival of the Holy Spirit, the promised Comforter. 

This precious Pentecost present energised a confused, frightened and grieving group of followers to burst forth publicly to announce the arrival of God’s Kingdom. There was no stopping them now, the Church was born and this news was to spread like a … (I won’t say it) to all the nations. 

So there is good news, something to live for, a fire that continues to burn within, lifting our spirits, helping us every step of the way. 

John 14: 25-27(MSG) I’m leaving you well and whole. That’s my parting gift to you. Peace. I don’t leave you the way you’re used to being left—feeling abandoned, bereft. So don’t be upset. Don’t be distraught.