As I’ve grown older, I’ve discovered that I am becoming more cautious in some areas of my life, while more cavalier in others. Having children has encouraged me to try things I might not have done before. Cautious about what I like to eat, I now find I am happy to try fish in restaurants that I never would have tried before. There is nothing worse that trying to coax a child to eat a carrot to be informed by that child that they saw you turn your nose up at something. I do still draw the line at mushrooms though – they will not cross my lips.

Part of taking up running was an attempt to ensure that they didn’t think it was okay to sit around all day, but instead that they saw their parents were prepared to try new things – and occasionally fail at them. Hopefully now we are past the winter solstice I won’t feel so nervous about running on the road at the end of the street. I wouldn’t want to admit to anyone that I actually quite like to feel the space in my lungs that the fresh air and breathing help you embrace in the speed of movement. Perhaps not quite back to finding the space to run, I did today head off to a familiar walking route in my proper trainers, and walked 6 miles – amazingly there were moments when I felt like running so I did. It was good to return home full of energy, and lounge in the bath because nobody needed me today.

These may not seem particular daring to those who like dangerous activities, but in the strait-laced, pleasing people role I sometimes play, these have been forays into doing things that were different from my own expectations. My next task will be to get back on my bicycle, although I think around here there may be a lot of pushing it up the hill, so I can come home on it.

In ministry though, I have sensed I have become more cautious. Geared towards people pleasing, I’ve never really liked to rock the boat and upset people. However I do know that as a much younger minister, I used to be prepared to challenge what was the normal practice of a congregation, and just go with my gut instinct about some thing.

I am the dreadful minister who never having shared the Sacrament of Holy Communion with a congregation, who 10 weeks after ordination in their first charge decided to completely change how the elders sat for communion. Growing up in a congregation where only those who served were involved in sitting at the front, I had found it hard in placements where all the elders sat at the front of the congregation looking at them. In my mind it took me back to the days of “fencing the table” so that only those who were worthy could approach and receive the grace of God. It also felt as though 40 people were looking over your shoulder when you were doing the prayers and the readings. So at the session meeting the week prior to communion I had talked with the Kirk Session about why I wanted to change how they sat. While there was forthright discussion, for the most part the elders were happy to try something new, and we all headed home quite happy.

On the morning of communion at the Kirk Session meeting prior to worship beginning two elders challenged the changes and said we should revert back to their usual practice. I think fortunately there was a good session clerk who asked them to trust that it might be the right thing to try, and I argued my cause and everyone else was happy to play along. It was not a pleasant atmosphere to go into worship

Having always preached through the lectionary, the reading just happened to be the meal at Simon the Pharisee’s and the anointing of Jesus by a sinful woman. It is a reading that speaks to me of all having a place within God’s kingdom.

At the close of the sermon, the two elders approached me and I have to say my heart sank as I thought I was about to be given a hard time for the change. Instead two very gracious men apologised for their behaviour before worship, and said that it was the sermon that had made them realise that they expected to be given an important seat, and instead they had been offered a seat at the heart of God’s love.

That poor first congregation were to experience a number of experiments, and I am forever grateful that they allowed me to be me as God called me to be. They were a congregation who were used to calling a probationer to their first charge, and while some of those probationers had stayed 25 years, they were up for almost anything. If there were responses they gave them a shot, they did drama, laid stones, made pilgrimages around the building, walked outside the building in Palm Processions.

For my part I didn’t desperately worry about innovation. I can’t remember not thinking about how others felt about things being different, but trying unusual things in worship didn’t seem like something I worried about. If there was a good reason to do it, and I could explain why we were doing it from a Biblical, practical or theological perspective then we trusted the instinct and went with it.

In more recent years, I have found myself more cautious about change and innovation. There is a real sense that in growing with a congregation you get to know what you will and won’t get away with. Congregations also have different natures, and while the hands on touchy feel-y stuff might be okay for one group of people, another group of people will take longer to warm to some of that even with careful explanation. However it hasn’t hindered innovation or experiment, where it could be explained well.

My philosophy has always been where innovation or experiment is happening in worship, it is not about getting everyone to take part in exactly the same way. Instead it should be encouraging all to take part in the way that they feel most comfortable with, and yet still feel that they have taken part in the response, action or innovation. In announcing that there will be responses with a prayer I usually say something along the lines of “please take part in the response in whatever way you are most comfortable. For some that is the saying of the words, for some just reading them, and for others just hearing the words spoken.”

I’ve learnt in ministry that congregations tend to have three groups of people in them at worship. Those who are desperate to be invited to take part in some way; those who might respond if they feel it has been explained well or they see someone else do it and it makes them feel comfortable; and those who will never take part. I’ve also learnt that you are never going to please all three groups at any one time, so the best thing to do is to focus the worship on where the Spirit seems to be leading and hope that it encounters someone on the journey.

I said at the beginning I find myself more cautious about innovation and invention these days. Most likely that is because there is an element of learning who I am and these people are in this new situation. We’re still learning to trust each other, and so anything usual that happens has to be a worthwhile expression of where worship is taking us all. However I suspect it is also because in reality if I sit in the pew, I would find that I am either someone who will never take part or it needs to be the right things in which to take part. There’s a thought to think about as the innovations shout out of Scripture exploration and worship.

In the meantime I wonder what might drop into my imagination in the next few months. Ooh! Lent and Easter coming and new opportunities to explore temptation, perfumes and processions. And somewhere in the midst of that there is a communion…