New Lyrics

Make of these what you will... Jimmy

I know it isn't right,
But I can't seem to get you off my mind.
Every day and and every night
It's like I see you right before my eyes
And it seems I can't break free from this spell you've got me under
But I don't want to see you anymore.

O I reaching for something more
I'm breaking the silence
Believing for something pure.

I hate what I've become.
The influence you have is bittersweet.
I'm searching for the One
Whose love has told me I can be redeemed.
This dirtiness that crawls all around me when I'm with you
Will be removed and you be dead and gone.

O I reaching for something more
I'm breaking the silence
Believing for something pure.

©2008 Jimmy Orr

What a difference a year makes...

Some of you will know that I went through a very difficult and painful time around about this time last year. Well, recently I've pondering about that time and mulling over the emotional and spiritual experience trying to express some of what went on. These are fresh lyrics that have been circling in my mind for some time, brewing and stirring and waiting for the right time to be poured out into the right structure. This is 'Here in the Shadows'.

Here in the shadows surrounded by those who abuse me;
Broken and beaten and bleeding to death on the floor.
Around me stand shadows and figures of those who accuse me.
I’m looking to heaven for help and I’m crying out Lord.

I come to You,
Broken, bruised and bleeding,
Bearing the scars of a broken heart.
Your open arms are healing.

You are my hope and You are the One who defends me.
You heal my wounds and wipe every tear I shed dry.
You I can trust and You are the One who befriends me.
I know I’m safer with You, than ever before.

I come to You,
Broken, bruised and bleeding,
Bearing the scars of a broken heart.
Your open arms are healing.

And You quiet my soul,
And You sing over me,
A love song of hope,
That You’ve placed within me.


Jimmy Orr © 2008

Tesco ergo sum -/- I shop therefore I am

I've been in many different churches over the years. I've sat through many different sermons by many different preachers and I've concluded that there are two types of talk. First, there are times when you hear something said that just washes over you and makes absolutely no difference to your life whatsoever. And then there are times when something is said that, although not directed at you by the speaker, feels like God has addressed it to you personally and you cannot help but sit up and take notice. It's that feeling you get when you walk up to a group of people and know someone's talking about you. Like the words you hear echo in your chest and all you're sure about it is that you've got to do something about what you've heard.

The latter happened to me yesterday.

I was at church, nothing usual about that, it's a regular feature of my Sunday's most weeks. I was sat in the congregation, something slightly unusual seeing as it was the first time I wasn't involved in being up the front for about seven weeks. The subject of the sermon was...

Shopping.

The basic point of the sermon was not that shopping was bad or that God was opposed to shopping and anyone that shops more than once a month is not allowed into heaven. But it was more along the lines of being sensible in your shopping habits. Shopping to live rather than living to shop. We all need to shop to buy clothes and food and thats a good thing. Even shopping for gadgets and things to make our lives more enjoyable is ok. There is nothing fundamentally wrong with the act of shopping itself even.

It's our motives for shopping that were questioned. Why do we buy what we buy? What is it about designer stuff that is appealing? Why do we feel we have to upgrade to the next model of this phone or that gadget?

The answer lies within our desire as human beings to belong.

And consumerism plays on that desire. Consumerism tells us that products and things will complete us. That Nike football boots will make you the best player and admired by your team-mates, that Prada handbags will bring you a glamourous lifestyle and respect, that the top range phone will somehow gain you more friends to call. But these are all lies. The brand name, whether genuine or a genuine fake, will not bring you what you want. The buzz of having the new thing fades so quickly and is never satisfied.

But for some reason we spend money we don't have on things we don't need to impress people who don't care.

If not complete without the handbag, you'll never be complete with it.
If you can't kick a ball straight, no brand of football boot will ever help you.

Shopping in itself is a good thing, but it's our motives for buying things that is what we need to carefully examine and keep in check. And I say we because I am the worst person for this.

Confession Time: I am a shopaholic. I like shopping, I like clothes - there is nothing wrong with my appreciation for fashion (you may have other opinions on that).
But what struck me more worryingly yesterday was that I like that I am a shopaholic. For some reason I am proud to admit that I have too many clothes. And actually, I don't want to be like that. I have been through my wardrobe before and found clothes with the tags still in them that I've never worn. I often doubt my own ability to buy a pair of trainers without 'adidas' printed on them. It is this side of me that I have been challenged on and that I'm going to try and change. I haven't the slightest idea how yet but I will continue to think about it and work out a way to alter my shopaholic tendancies.

Too many times I've heard things and they've gone in one ear and out the other. This time, I want it to be different.

I'll be there for you...

Firstly, many apologies for the ridiculously large period of time between this blog and the last one. I have no excuses, I just haven't written 'til now. There is no deeply philosophical or theological reason for not writing it. I just haven't.

This rambling array of my ponderings has been stewing for some time though and has been fueled even more after the events of this 'summer' - a term I grudgingly use to describe the season just past in spite of the weather.

I have been lucky (or fortunate or whatever the 'Christian' alternative to lucky is) this summer in that I have been away a few times. I spent good times back in Geneva and had the privilege of returning to Le Pas Opton, the site of Spring Harvest Holidays. These were very different times - Geneva included among other things a weekend music festival, LPO was its usual unique blend of the sublime and the ridiculous.

However, it was not the location that made this summer memorable. It was the people. A combination of old friends and new friends. I've reminisced with people I've known for ages and share countless experiences with. I somehow slotted into a team of people I had known for a short time and some I'd never met before. I've had deep and meaningful conversations. I've had good meals with good people and endured the most hideous sausage casserole ever created. I've played football with lads as close to me as brothers and sang duets with beautiful girls I love dearly. I've had laughs, I've shared tears, I've hugged, I've nearly killed; it has been an awesome summer of people.

Which has led me to wonder - What is it that makes people just seem to click?

They* say opposites attract, and yet I'm now really close friends with someone who is so remarkably like me it's often quite freaky.

They* say that the strongest of friendships are forged in the toughest of intense environments.

They* say that wounds from a friend can be trusted.

I wish I had the answer to why some friendships last and why some dissolve before your very eyes; why someone you've known for a relatively short period of time can seem closer than one you've known for years.

Is it time?
Is it communication?
Is it personality?
Is it intimacy?

Who knows?!

All I do know is this; that dotted around the world right now are people who I have had the pleasure of knowing in a whole range of different circumstance and now gladly call friends.

A good friend of mine once said "put your life on the line for your friends." There is a group of people who I would, without hesitation, put my life on the line for them.

Friends come and friends go, but a true friend sticks by you closer than family. (Proverbs 18:24)
That's the kind of friends I want to have,

and more to the point...

That's the kind of friend I want to be.

*Sidenote: I'd love to meet whoever They are!

Who are you?

I've been recently challenged on how I form my opinions of other people. It's not a challenge that has come out of an encounter with a living person but rather hearing a story about a woman I've never actually met.

There's a story* in the gospels where Jesus is having dinner out at someone's house and a 'sinful' woman comes in and begins washing his feet - sounds a bizarre series of events but stick with me. A couple of weeks back in one of my college lectures we were encouraged to imagine this scene unfolding; put ourselves in the picture, as this story was read out aloud.

Now, my imagination is somewhat vivid. It operates as if I'm watching a movie. And so hearing these words read out my cinematic brain began imagining the location the atmosphere. And when this woman was introduced to the plot-line I had instantly cast her in my mind as this provocatively dressed hooker with far too much dramatic makeup walking seductively down the street. This was my first impression of this 'sinful woman'. And no doubt this is the impression of the rest of Jesus' eating companions, the upper class members of society. Religious leaders, town officials and the like. Everyone knew who she was, some probably knew her too well. And all eyes are on this woman as she enters the room.

But then the story continues, as she enters the room she is crying, heartbroken. She walks over to Jesus and she sits down next to him and begins washes his feet with her tears, taking her hair down to dry them, and pouring her own perfume and pouring it all out, all over Jesus' feet. Suddenly this confident seductress has changed. In my minds eye she's no longer dressed provocatively, she's got more of a natural, girl-next-door look about her. Suddenly I don't see her for what she's done, but I see her for who she is.

All eyes are still firmly fixed on her. This is just not social acceptable. Until Jesus breaks the stunned awkward silence and explains this beautiful act. He says to the host of the dinner;

"Do you see this woman? I came to your home; you provided no water for my feet, but she rained tears on my feet and dried them with her hair. You gave me no greeting, but from the time I arrived she hasn't quit kissing my feet. You provided nothing for freshening up, but she has soothed my feet with perfume. Impressive, isn't it? She was forgiven many, many sins, and so she is very, very grateful. If the forgiveness is minimal, the gratitude is minimal."

Picture the girl now. Jesus is talking about her to someone else but her ears are hearing that everything she's ever done wrong has been forgiven; that this Jesus guy actually understands why she's crying and why she's doing this and not only does he understand but he accepts it. The relief in her heart must've been enormous.

This next bit isn't actually written in the Bible, it's my imagination taking over but I don't think it's far fetched to say this girl hugged Jesus on hearing this news. And I'm pretty certain Jesus would've hugged back. And for the first time in a long time, maybe ever, this girl experiences the embrace of a man who doesn't want anything from her - he just wants to let her know she's loved and accepted. This pure but passionate moment is sealed with the words "You're forgiven". The rest of the room is in uproar over this whole encounter but Jesus ignores them. His sole focus is on her. "Your faith has saved you. Go in peace". A totally different girl walks out of the room; smiling, laughing, giggling, dancing, skipping, her whole attitude to life is different. She feels truly valued not paid by the hour. She is a totally new person with whole new fresh outlook on life.

I'd love to be able to see people how Jesus sees them. To glimpse through the outer shell and see the person inside. Past the designer suits and breifcases. Past the wragged shirts and boxes. Past the low cut tops and short skirts. Past the religious attire and symbols on chains. Into the hearts of ordinary human beings who need to be loved for who they are, but loved too much to leave them that way.

[*if you want to read the whole story click here]

Born 55 years too late...

I'm quite the daydreamer. And so yesterday -14th May 2008, which marked the 10 year anniversary of the death of Frank Sinatra- in one of my daydreaming moments, I wondered what my life would've been like if I hadn't been born in England in 1983. I decided I would love to have been born in New York in the late 1920's.

Born in 1928, [55 years earlier] growing up in a working class family but dreaming of a life in the golden age of showbusiness; working my way through the smoky saloons and bars singing the, now classic, jazz standards. Moving to the bright lights of Vegas and on to LA to make my name as the youngest member of the Rat Pack, performing huge big band numbers with Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Sammy Davis Jnr.

Spend my career singing 'Mack the Knife', 'Mr Bojangles' or 'My Way' and starring alongside the rest of the Rat Pack fellas in the original Ocean's 11 movie. And whilst filming, maybe, just maybe, catch the eye of a beautiful, classy, darling young actress named Audrey - who was in town filming her new movie Breakfast at Tiffany's - and live happily ever after in Hollywood's Hall of Fame...

Of course, all those great stars are gone now, and if I had lived then I'd be nothing more than a name and a legacy now - which would be a shame, cos I would never have had the chance to meet the amazing people I've met along my life so far.

Daydreaming aside, I'd choose 1983 over 1928 any day.

"...give us a sign"

I encountered a most bizarre situation the other day that has left me troubled at the state of this country's sanity.

It all began whilst I was walking along Oxford Street in London. I made my way out of Oxford Circus tube station and turned left towards Marble Arch. As I walked along I noticed a sign on the near side of the road informing buses and other traffic of the left-lane's closure and that there was a diversion system in place. As I walked further up the road I approached the reason why that one lane of traffic had been stopped; a rather large crane doing engineering work on one of the shop buildings being totally refitted.

I walked past the crane and the workmen and continued along a half closed Oxford Street, towards Marble Arch; the far side bustling with traffic, the near side quiet due to the closure of the lane because of the crane.

As I walked, something struck me as weird.

There were no taxis going past. Because the near side lane of traffic was closed.
There were no buses going past. Because the near side lane of traffic was closed.

Yet there were people at the bus stops all along the street.

I looked around, for a split-second doubting my memory of the road's closure but a glance down the road towards the crane and the signs in the road proved my own sanity. I looked at the bus stop and noticed huge yellow signs that read "Bus-Stop not in use". Walking into the empty lane I glanced one more time at the blockage in the road to make perfectly sure that the road was in fact closed before approaching one of the hopeful bus-stop inhabitants and saying

"You do know there are no buses coming down this side of the street right?"

Confusion descended on all those who heard my shocking revelation! A general sense of "pardon?" eminated from the would-be passengers. I explained about the signs and the crane and the lack of traffic and the whole re-routing of public transport thing and gestured in the general direction of bus stops that were actually in use.
Eventually they dispersed and I continued my stroll along the road.

I approached another bus stop... once again crowded with people... waiting. One of the wait-ers was a finely dressed gentleman with whom I shared my knowledge of the road closure and the lack of buses to which he replied "well, what are all these other people waiting for then?"

"Exactly the same thing you are Sir. Nothing." came my ever-so-slightly sarcastic reply.

As I moved on from delivering my good news to those people three thoughts entered my mind. The first was that some people actually remained at the bus stop; just sitting, waiting... for a bus service that didn't exist.
The second was that I had been walking for about twenty mintues by this point, and the road had clearly been closed for some considerable time before my arrival, and so no traffic at all had been past any of those bus stops for at least half an hour. Surely someone would've guessed that 'perhaps the usual bus service was not operational at that point in time'.
Thirdly, the London Bus Company had left huge great yellow signs informing the public that the bus stops were not in use and the whacking great crane in the middle of the road hindering any buses using the street would only have underlined that message.

"A person can be smart, but People are stupid."

Written instructions and messages and signs and obvious, huge, powerful works didn't help people waste their lives that Saturday. It took a person to step out and tell them of their mistake and inform them of the truth (and even then some people didn't believe the truth when they heard it).

If the public don't 'get it' about waiting for a bus, how on earth do we expect them to know any better about anything with more significance?!

A Most Musical Weekend

WOW!

I haven't had such an intense weekend for a while.

It began in SwitzerFrance (also known as the greater Geneva area which crosses the Swiss/French border) on Thursday night when I flew in under cover of night for a suprise visit. I was to perform and sing swing songs as light entertainment at the Crossroads Church 'Guys/Girls Weekend Dinner'.

The plan was to meet up with the guys on Friday night, in the woods, in the dark, running around like lunatics and eating insane amounts of toasted marshmallows before the main event of the Saturday night dinner. The majority of the girls, or so I'm told, had no idea I was there and in order to maintain the element of surprise I was hidden upstairs in the church for over an hour.

The time came for my 'grand entrance'. Thankfully, to my great relief, the reception was fantastic (granted, I milked it for all it was worth!) but my imagination, whilst sat in the upstairs room alone for most of the hour beforehand, was playing images of "and here's our special guest, Jimmy Orr..." cue tumbleweed and mass dissappointment.

The night went really well, and all the performers did a great job. The girls seemed to enjoy the evening and so mission accomplished for the guys.

The following morning was a baptism service at Crossroads, which I had the pleasure of leading worship for. Reunited with my old band of brothers (and sister!) and in the presence of good friends we raised the roof of the church that morning. A good time in the house of God!

This was follwed by several episodes of CSI (good times D and Sarah!) and my education in the phenomenon that is... High School Musical. I admit I hadn't seen it til that moment, and I now confess, I maybe ever so slightly hooked. It's cheesy, it's catchy, it's good (mostly) wholesome Disney fun: What's not to like?!

Then came the part I really had thought through... buckle ya seat belt!

Monday Morning

3am woke up

4am at airport

6am was meant to fly home

7am actually flew home after they fixed the door on the aircraft?!

8:30am actually arrived at gatwick

9:40am arrived at college

10 - 5:15pm Lectures [including a Greek test]

5:15 - 7pm break to rehearse songs...

7:30 went to recording studio

Tuesday Morning...

2am left studio

3:30am eventually made in back to bed

7am had to get up for more lectures!!!

memo to self: that was fun, but NEVER do that bit again!

Puppy-Love?

I've come to the conclusion that grown up life is over-rated. It is unecessarily complicated, far to stressful and needs to be rethought entirely. Particualrly in the whole area of relationships.

I propose, so to speak, that we should resort back to the simple relationship antics of the school playground. No pre-nups, no mind games, no playing hard to get, no 'will they/won't they' dilemmas. Just blissful (but brief) togetherness.

It all begins with the boys are running around playing football, convinced in their own mind that they are not, in fact, at school on the playground but at Wembley Stadium in the most important of cup final matches. The girls stand away in the distance discussing which boy each girl likes best*.

Two girls (always two. never a solo mission), one spokeswoman and one backup, usually a quiet coy looking one, are then sent from the group to the middle of the game (something that under no circumstances would normally be allowed but due to the unwritten laws of the playground is permitted) to speak with the boy of choice.

His best friend, wingman, teammate, brother from another mother, notices the girls' approach and takes up his position as spokesman for his mate. Both parties meet face to face, the boys with their shirts untucked and panting like two unfit bulldogs; the girls mercilessly twiddling their hair and swaying;

"My friend fancies your friend"

"well, my friend likes your friend too"

"will your friend go out with my friend?"

The wingman turns to double-check with his mate, a galant but casual wipe of his nose on his sleeve and a shrug of his shoulders somehow communicates a positive response.
"Yeah alright".

The giggles ensue and the girls depart from the boys. the boys return to the thick of the battle before the bell rings for end of play.

For the next few hours, the 'happy couple' are inseperable (well, they sit next to each other) and news of their togetherness is announced to the world, traditionally by some kind of rhyme about tree's and k-i-s-s-i-n-g. They hold hands for the next lesson and then it's home time. They live across town from each other so there's no seeing the other until school the following day.
By which time, they get bored. By morning break the couple have split in the most heartwrenching of moments.

By lunchtime, they're best friends in the whole wide world.

On the third day, it begins all over again... Simple eh?

*for the female perspective check Gemma's Blog!

My Friend

How do you really know someone? How do you get to know what someone is really like?

Over the past week or so I've watched several depictions of a guy I know; a close friend who has helped me through some rough times and has celebrated some awesome times with me too. Over the years I've gotten to know Him more and more, realising a bit more of His personality, His humour, what offends Him, what puts a smile on His face, who He is. Though we've never actually spoken face-to-face we're good mates. Though we're by no means equals (He's a lot older than me, and wiser, and richer and more powerful than me) He treats me like His little brother; constantly looking out for me.

It's a great relationship but to see Him portrayed in films or on TV in various ways has made me wonder about our friendship. I've found myself liking and disliking characteristics that the Directors have put on him; "I like this version of Him 'cos He's more sarcastic" or "nah, He's taller/bigger/stronger than this actor" or "He wouldn't have treated so-and-so like that".

And I find myself double-checking what I actually know for real about Him against that which I've put upon Him myself. How much is Him and how much is me making Him what I want Him to be? You know how sometimes when you meet someone you can imagine their personality and put all sorts of characteristics on them? I begin to wonder if I've done that.

But then He reassures me that it's ok not to know Him fully yet. I've known Him since I was a kid but there's so much I've yet to learn about Him.

He is who He is.

He will be who He will be.

No film or depiction is going to change His character.

He's still my friend, my Jesus, my Saviour.

So, what did you think of my...?

Everyone is entitled to their opinion. I have no issue with that.

That is, however, until their opinion is on something I've done, or said, or written. I am of course talking about criticism. It's something that has cropped up several times in recent weeks.

I'm one of those people who likes criticism... kind of. [Please don't take this as an open invitation to flood my inbox with comments destroying my character or suggestions of things you think I could do better!]

I was chatting to a friend, who agrees with my logic, that criticism can be a great way of improving yourself. But it's a very vulnerable place to be. To put yourself out in the firing line is scary. To open yourself up to someone to potentially tear your hard work to shreds takes courage and trust in the critic.

It guess it's that trust element that is crucial for a criticism to be positive and not a character assassination. If you are sure that the critic is genuinely looking out for your best interests you are more likely to take their criticism well. If there is doubt, the criticism could be taken more as a personal attack rather than a judgement of your work.

Having said that, hearing negative feedback, however well-meaning or even accurate it may be, tends to leave be on the backfoot. I get defensive. I start trying to justify my actions in light of this new found opposition. Especially if it's something I'm particularly passionate about. "Perhaps you could have done such-and-such better" or "maybe approaching this-or-that aspect in a different way next time" leads me to thinking "do you realise just how much work I've put into this?!" or "But that's me, that's my style! Are you asking me to fundementally change who I am?!".

But on reflection, when the heat of the moment has cooled, I revisit those comments, and yes they still sting from time to time, but there is truth and wisdom and advice hidden behind those critiques. And often there is wisdom is taken that advice on board.

I don't know the answer to every question. I am not the best preacher, author, songwriter, musician, worship leader, youth worker, friend even. I would do well to take criticism on board. I recognise that the more I take people's advice, the better the version of me I become. I don't take on every characteristic people may demand of me, that's just silly, no-one can be everything everyone wants them to be. But my character, my personality, my skills and talents and gifts can be sharpened, refined, perfected, generally made better by learning from others obversations on what I do well and what, quite frankly, I completely mess up!

"Pride only breeds quarrels, but wisdom is found in those who take advice."

New Home

I’ve moved.

As I type this I’m sat at my desk in my new room. Looking out of the window I can see for miles over South London. Church spires poke up from carpet of thousands of houses and several blocks of flats are a rigid contrast to the rolling hills on which they stand.

The sun is setting, sparkling as it reflects off the windows across town and casting its golden glow all around, the clear sky gradually fading from a bright blue, through a rusty orange into a musky pink.

Even in the very early stages of this new chapter it feels like ‘right place at the right time’. I’m definitely looking forward to the challenges of the next few months. God certainly hasn’t let me down on this one, and I’ve no reason to think He is going to in the coming season.

“Grace has brought me safe thus far, and grace shall lead me home”

Forwards or Backwards?

Ah, the good old days.

Those times gone by where things were better than they are today. The former days where life was simpler, where problems seemed to be non-existent or easily solved. A time of bliss and happiness and hysterical anecdotes outnumber the stars in the sky.

This is the power of selective memory. This is the wonder of Rose-Tinted Glasses.

The truth is, that life back in the old days was actually no different to life in the current days. Forgive me for sounding like a grumpy old man before my time, but I've been recently woken up to this reality. That actually looking back is not as helpful as we may believe.

I've been through a pretty rocky patch in my life lately. The last few weeks and months have been particularly challenging for a number of reasons..

All throughout that time, echoes of my time in Geneva were calling me. They reminded me of all the people I had been close to and the good times we had. Stories of fun times and uplifting occasions came flooding back to my mind. And so I made arrangements and visited Geneva earlier this month. I needed a break, I wanted to go back and re-experience all those great times.

What I experienced however was something quite different.

Have you ever tried to put on a pair of old shoes?

Or wear a coat from when you were younger?

Have you ever tried to wear somebody elses shoes?

Or fit into something custom made for somebody other than you?

They Just Don't Fit.

My return to Geneva felt similar. Please don't get me wrong! I enjoyed my time there and it was fantastic to catch up with friends I haven't seen for far too long and be encouraged by how much they've grown and moved on. But that's just the point; they had moved on. I had moved on. We all had moved on from where we were last summer when I left. And now their present is part of my past.

The work I did is now being built upon by a new team [and a great team at that, and I honestly pray that the work they do far outweighs anything I ever did! Dare I say double-portion?!].

God spoke to me loud and clear during my time back in Geneva. The door is closed. I need to stop looking back through rose-tinted glasses and keep moving forward. Yes, remember the friends I have there. Yes, remember the lessons I learnt there. But don't long for something that is long gone. "Forgetting what lies behind, press on".

I'm now moving to London. It's a time of uncertainty and there are concerns I have, sure. But looking back is not going to help me get past the new challenges. But focusing on God will. He has never let me down before and I have no reason to believe He's going to start now.

Coming Soon...

Worship Event - 3:30pm
Crossroads Church, Ferney Voltaire

This Sunday afternoon I'll be leading worship at Crossroads and also teaching and exploring what worship is.

Why do we do what we do?
What is worship?
What's with all the singing?

If you're in the greater Geneva area on Sunday it'd be awesome to see you.
If you can't make it, i'm sure i'll post notes and news from the day on here so check back.

Jimmy

Lights, Camera, Action...

Every now and then in life amazing, once in a lifetime opportunities pop up out of the ordinary that are just too good to pass up. And when they do it's often a good idea to grab them with boths hands a run with them, to ride the wave and see where it takes you.

I had one such opportunity arise earlier this week. And I'm pleased to say I took it.

I had the chance to go to Ravensbourne College in London for the day to be filmed in a studio singing a couple of my songs. Anyone who knows me knows this was an offer I simply couldn't turn down. And so on early Monday morning I grabbed my guitar and a few shirts and caught the train to London (I'm often on trains to and from London so if you ever see me, come and say hi). When I arrived I signed in and was taken by my mate, who had organised the whole thing for me, straight to the studio to meet the crew, the director, the floor manager (The lovely Sophie, who looked after me and brought me water at every opportunity.) and the sound and light guys. It was exactly how I had pictured it and more; Lights, Cameras, more lights, monitors and displays all pointed at the stool where I would be soon be sitting and playing and singing. It looked very impressive.

Behind the scenes in the control room were more TV displays all looking at my stool (it didn't take me long to adopt that zone as my own!). I was taken to my very own green room to get ready, changed into my first outfit, warmed up my voice, tuned my guitar, milking every second of the experience before returning to 'Studio A'.

I took up my place in front of the cameras, surrounded by lights in front of me, and behind and above and below, and waited to begin.

And waited some more.

And then did some more waiting, for lighting to fix shadows and sound to set levels.

Then some more waiting.

Then I was asked to play for the rehearsal run-through and then more waiting and tweaking of lights and lenses.

There was a lot of waiting around that day. A lot of getting everything just right; the right look, the right sound, the right angles, the right colours. Everything was done to the highest level, the best standard. During this time I was given some advice. It was to do with where to look. I had little or no experience working with television cameras and so the best thing was to imagine an audience, or to look for Sophie, the floor manager, and sing to her.

And then it hit me. Surrounded by cameras and crew, lit up light something on MTV and the advice was to play 'to an audience of one.' I had heard that phrase so many times regarding worship leading. I'd used that phrase so many times teaching about worship, that God is the 'audience of one' that you play to, and yet in that new place there was a freshness about it.

Worship isn't limited to a church building on Sunday morning. You can sing to God in the middle of a take in a Studio. You can sing to Him walking down the street. You can sing to Him in the shower. You can sing pretty much anywhere and it all counts as performing to 'an audience of one'.

So I did just that. I sang my songs to an audience of one, and it was Sophie. I was worshipping just as much in Studio A as I have done in Church.

So back to the opportunities thing. It's not just once in a lifetime opportunities we should grab hold of, its the worship chances too. Don't just wait til Sunday, grab every chance you can. Perform as much as you can to 'an audience of one'.

And cut...

Imagine...

I was on the train home from London last night after visiting a very good friend of mine and having coffee with her in a pretty swanky little cafe just off Baker Street. It was getting late and I was in one of the pondersome moods you tend to drift into when gazing out of the window of a train at night and all you can see is black and occasionally the reflection of a old, bald man trying to stay awake on the seat opposite you.

Anyway...

I was thinking about the fact that I could get from my house to London in just over an hour. Sounds quite simple and almost not worth the hassle of thinking about it. But then I wandered on along that thought line and realised that in this day in age, you can get pretty much anywhere in the world within 24hours. This would not have been possible in years gone past.

And then my mind skipped on a few beats [in true Old Man style] to all the 'progress' that has happened over my lifetime so far. Granted, i'm only 24, but already I imagine the conversations between me and my grandchildren...

"I remember the days when we only had 1 tv in each room. and even that only had 4 channels."

"I remember the days when you had to buy your train tickets from machines."

"I remember when planes had loud jet engines and a long runway to take off on."

"I remember when you actually had to steer a car."

"I remember the days when an iPod was a little coloured box you put in your pocket that had headphones to put in your ears, not like the microchips you kids have impanted into your heads"

Ok, so maybe my on train boredom had kicked in by that point.

But it's phenomenal how much technology and society have changed over human history and it's frightening to think how fast things will develop into the future. How things will change and what things will remain and what new things will be introduced.

Imagine then, if you will*, what it must be like for God. He was never created, and He will never die, and so He has been involved in every single second of history. He has inspired new discoveries, he had encouraged inventions and schemes. He has been hurt at cruelty and opression. He has laughed at the greatest comic heroes and cried at the most tragic losses. He has uplifted those who have been beaten down and toppled those who have raised themselves up by evil means.

He is interested in you. He wants a relationship with you. He wants to love you, to help you out, to hang out with you, to know what you like and don't like, to be there where you're hurting, to laugh at your jokes that aren't all that funny, to share what's on His mind with you.

All you have to do is say 'Hi'.

I arrived at my stop, and left the train.

(*Imagine. If you consider yourself an atheist then I encourage you, just for a few moments, to 'imagine', not believe or even accept necessarily, that there is an eternal supreme spiritual being who is in charge of everything.)

Amazing Grace (Remix?)*

"Amazing grace how sweet the sound
that forgave a [man] bitch like me.
You see I kinda freaked her out
She's safe and sound really."

This is an adaptation of a classic hymn to mark a low point in great friendship tonight. I did something really quite mean to a good friend who was sat in her house alone. The lights dimmed to give the impression that no one was in. She was understandably a little concerned of being on her own and I offered some advice;

To watch a scary movie, but not to get caught up in the storyline or it'll just freak her out. but take notes on what each college girl victim does and in the event of some terrible danger, do the complete opposite!

This advice, i realise in retrospect, was thoughtless and mean and caused her to panic and worry. I am truly and deeply sorry for being so unhelpful. I deserved the insulting term she described me as [which cannot be repeated - this is a family blog.].

So guys, I urge you, in view of my tragic mistake, to never take a girls imagination and ability to conjure all manner of impossible and unlikely scenarios lightly. Be careful when offering humorous advice and beware offending their fragile, pretty little minds.

I hope this is a valuable lesson to us all.

[* Please note, this article is drenched in sarcasm and humour and is in no way created to be taken seriously (other than the fact that upsetting girls is hazardous to your health.)]

Church - How hard can it be?

I've been thinking a lot lately about the church [I’m studying theology so I kinda have to!]. I know there are various strong and often conflicting views on church and so I figured I'd add mine to the melting pot.
Now, I am generalising like there's no tomorrow and I know there are churches that do not fit this broadest of brushstrokes.

What is it about the church that people either feel strongly about joining and belong to or just as strongly against it? And my ponderings have led me to a place where I am wondering if it's because the church, to skew a common tagline, 'doesn't do exactly what it says on the tin'.

It seems to me as though the church has somewhat fallen behind the ever moving culture. In a world where everything is available 24 hours a day, 7 days week, the church is still seen as a Sunday morning slot. In an environment where tolerance has taken a firm grip on common sense and political correctness seems to strangle and hinder our every move. In a society that allows you to travel, to shop, to work, to study and get qualifications, to sort your finances without physically talking to another human being, the church still functions on a very face-to-face mode. In a world where internet social networking sites have changed the way we communicate, the church again seems lacking. And even when it does get involved there is a distinct element of cheese. As if public opinion says ‘the church doesn’t belong here’.

Which led me on in my ponderings, and forgive the cliché but, I thought ‘what would Jesus actually do to change this?’. I mean that’s why the church exists right?

To provide a presence in society on Jesus’ behalf.

To carry out the things that He wants carried out.

Would Jesus favour Facebook or Myspace or stand sternly on the cathedral steps rebuking all those who engage in such impersonal networking?
How would Jesus interact with people who believe there is no absolute truth?
What would Jesus think of political correctness?
Where would Jesus hang out? What would He do with His time? Would He drink Starbucks?

All these questions are fine for me to ask. But we, as the Church, need to continually asked ourselves these and then ask ourselves if we’re doing likewise. You see, I think the reason the church isn’t ‘doing what it says on the tin’ is because somehow we’ve lost sight of Jesus and lost ground on being like Him.

This great quote from Karen Ward, of Church of the Apostles in Seattle, USA, kinda sums it up. She says “The cultural view ‘gets’ Jesus was for the marginalized and the oppressed. It is only the church that need to be trained to look at Jesus again. They took a poll in my area of Seattle and found that 95 percent of the nonchurched have a favourable view of Jesus, so Jesus is not the problem. It is the church they dislike, because they do no readily see the church living out His teachings”

And Ghandi put it even clearer when he said “I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians because your Christians are not like your Christ.”

So maybe that’s the answer. We just need to be like Jesus. Think like Jesus. Act Like Jesus. Be compassionate like Jesus. Be Selfless like Jesus. Relate to people like Jesus did.

It can’t be that difficult…

can it?

Before the Crowds of Heaven - the story behind the song

'Before the Crowds...' was written a few years ago now but started as a response to a revelation. It's an attempt to capture the heart of a vision I had whilst sat in church. And although i'm not entirely sure of the theological accuracy of my description, and my imagination for that matter, allow me to try to describe that vision;

I saw heaven's throne room in all it's splendour, God, shining a brilliant, dazzling white in all His glory, seated on His throne being worshipped by thousands of angels, some flying around the throne, their wings fully extended as they sang, some stood like a crowd on the floor and others knelt facedown before the King. The atmosphere was intensely worshipful and the sound of the angel's song echoed throughout the heavens. Until one angel arrived at the gate. It was Gabriel, returning from a conversation with a young girl in Nazareth, Mary.

As his angelic colleagues continued their unceasing praise, Gabriel made his way through the crowds towards the throne. He reached the feet of God and knelt as if to report back from his succesful mission and as He did so, heaven fell silent.

At that moment, God the Father turned to His right to look at His Son and simply said "It's time". A loving glance between the Father and His Son implied "You know what to do".The angelic crowd, still silent looked on with a bewildered and 'what's happening?' type concern as Jesus, still in His holy and radient appearance, whiter than white, dressed like the Prince of Peace He is, stood up in full view 'Before the Crowds of Heaven', Removed His Crown and left it on His throne, and began to walk towards the gate.

As He stepped down from the throne, the crowds parted gradually to create a path for the Son to walk through. Although slient, a murmer of disbelief and confusion began to carry across those gathered. And as Jesus walked through, I saw a change. Gradually the Majesty of His glorious appearance faded to the nature of an ordinary, humble man. His face which shone like the sun 'shining in all it's brilliance' became olive skinned and darker, His hair changed from being 'as white as wool, as white as the snow' to a darkened brown and His robe and Golden Sash faded away to nakedness as the Son of God changed from Prince of Heaven to a helpless child before my own eyes;

Infinite and Powerful, Infant now and Beautiful;Almighty God becomes so meek and Mild.
That is where the Vision for me ended. But it's only half the song. I wanted to capture the whole story. To tell of His mission on earth, and of His glorious return to the throne He had left to redeem us.The chorus simply echoes the Word of Jesus Himself, that "Greater love has no man... than to lay down His life for His friends" and ends with my response:

I promise You [Jesus] that I'll never forget the sacrifice of God that paid my debt.

(hear the song at www.myspace.com/jimmyorr)