From The Manse Window

From the manse window

I’M writing this piece two weeks before Wimbledon begins. I love this time of year; I love anticipating all the tennis that lies ahead.

It’s not just about the tennis, though, it’s about the place itself and its associations with my childhood. For as long as I can remember, Wimbledon has been part of my life.

So I savour the build-up to two weeks of heaven, the countdown to the iconic music and Sue Barker opening up the BBC’S coverage around lunchtime on that first Monday.

Part of the pleasure of something you love is in the anticipation of it, isn’t it? We felt it as children waiting for Christmas to arrive. I feel it every year as I anticipate the arrival of spring.

I feel happy at the thought of sunshine and the garden springing to life and – my favourite bit – those few weeks when the trees are a confection of lemon and lime green as the leaves unfurl and you can get up really early in the morning and hear the dawn chorus.

It’s followed by the bittersweet sadness that it’s all over again for another year. Maybe the reason why these things are so precious is that they’re only here for a limited time.

Christians have the pleasure of anticipation, too, and it’s for something that, once it arrives, is never going to depart again.

We know that this life is transient, that we’re on our way to our real home where we’ll see the One we’ve worshipped and followed as disciples.

“If I go and prepare a place for you I will come back and take you to be with me that you may also be where I am,” Jesus promises.

So, after the joy of life on earth that God has created us to experience, we have the anticipation of deeper joy when we finally go home to him.

We all have our ideas of what heaven might be like. I like to think of the countryside in spring with bluebells and blossom and babbling brooks, or wild high mountains and a big sky and never-ending vistas to explore.

We’ve all experienced that sense of joy and overwhelming longing for something we can’t articulate; that’s God reminding us that what we see now is only a poor image of what’s to come.

That’s amazing. What I do know is that when we get there it will be far beyond anything we can imagine now.

Then there’s the anticipation of better things to come when times are tough. Such thoughts sustain us, that everything counts for something, suffering is not meaningless – there is better to come.

Wimbledon is great. When it arrives it’s exciting, but as each day of the championship passes and it gets closer to the end of the tournament I feel a growing sense of bereavement.

Thankfully it’s not like that when it comes to the kingdom of God. As we anticipate our entry into the fullness of God’s kingdom we know our place there will be eternal.

Next week: the Rev. Ian W.F. Hamilton considers the General Election.