Observe:Reflect:Discuss

2011-01-11T14:33:00.007Z

The 10 Marks of Missionary Orders

(according to Alastair Redfern, Bishop of Derby)

I always enjoy Bishop Alastair's teaching, as his grasp of history and its connection to our present is fantastic. Today was no exception. As an introduction to a morning on Mission Action Plans (MAPs - used in many parishes and diocese to encourage mission and community engagement), he offered us a overview of the role of Missionary Orders in the 12th and 13th centuries.

As a member of a modern Missionary Order (TOM - The Order of Mission), I was enormously encouraged by his reflections and post them here for your consideration.

Context:

The 12-13th centuries were periods of change and insecurity. The growth of towns moved people away from their settled rural lifestyles and the parish system struggled to respond to these changes. It's essentially attractional model (we are static, you come to us) seemed out of step with a population that was starting to become mobile.

The drivers for mission in this period where the missionary orders, founded by Frances and Dominic. The both led mission and produced (through inspiration and conflict) renewal within the traditional parish system.

The marks of these religious orders included:

1) Raising people up to radical commitment to Christ outside the parish system. A system of motherhouses and missiionary enterprises provided the framework for this commitment to be expressed. The kinds of people (knights and noblemen) who would never consider traditional, parish ministry were inspired to a radical conversion and lifestyle of faith.

2) Reform of the existing models of ministry. Itinerant preachers (friars) existed alongside settled ministers, sometimes complementing them, sometimes conflcting with them. But certainly producing change.

3) A discipline of prayer and Bible study. Members of religious orders took vows to pray and study together. Both in the motherhouses and outside, these vows were taken seriously and provided the context of the radical discipleship that was lacking in much of the rest of the Church.

4) A fresh missionary strategy. The message of the religious orders was the love of God (particularly Francis) and its members expressed this through living it out in sacrificial service.

5) In a world obsessed with power, the friars preached the justice. This is particularly interesting today, where many people view God as a power-monger, rather than one who seeks justice on the earth.

6) 'The truce of God'. In a violent age, churches and minsters became places of sanctuary, to which people could flee for refuge from violence. The Sabbath was observed carefully, as the day of rest, re-creation and sanctuary from the busyness of life.

7) Chivalry mattered. Many of these ex-knights and noblemen was considered almost romantic heroes, demonstrating their love for God and his world through sacrifical acts of service for others. 'The chivalry of God' was expressed through the heroic sacrifice of his Son, Jesus, for our behalf on the cross.

8) The idea of 'Respectus' (according to Abelard of Bath): that every person, regardless of rank or circunstance, is precious before God.

9) A mix of international identity and local expression. The orders were international and held clearly defined values right across the order, but worked in localities, living out the values of the order in widely varying settings.

10) A commitment to 'Scolasticism'. Perhaps less popular today, the Orders required knowledge of a wide range of intellectual subjects, including the sciences and arts as well as theology. Members were expected to have a intellectual grasp of the breadth of the Gospel as joined-up thinking on all sorts of subjects.

Finally, Bishop Alastair, in response to a question, reflected on the new language the religious orders brought to the Church and world at large. The first language, he suggested, was the language of 'acting out love'. For members of religious orders, the Gospel was not something that gathered them into a parish church every Sunday, but something that called them to act out the love of God in whole-hearted devotion and commitment for the rest of their lives.

The second language was an internal, intellectual language that fed and sustained the members of the religious orders through the motherhouses and their missionary endeavours.

Well, I don't know if you found that interesting. I certainly did. When the Church finds internal renewal difficult and loses its missionary zeal, it seems that God raises up missionary orders on the fringes of the church to help bring that renewal and to lead God's people into 'acting out love' in the world around them. While there will often be conflict with the embedded institution, it seems that such orders can accomplish real change in their generation. Let's hope something similar happens in ours.

2010-12-23T15:33:00.004Z

The Twelve Truths of Christmas
Here are twelve brief thoughts on what the Christmas stories mean.
1. God will ruin your life
For Mary and Joseph, the Christmas story must have ruined the plans they had for a happy married life. These two were no ‘smug marrieds’. When God gets involved, it is inconvenient and disruptive.
2. ‘Hope deferred makes the heart sick’
For Zechariah, the long years of marriage without children had made him heart-sick. His response to Gabriel – ‘How can this be?’ – was the same as Mary’s, yet Gabriel’s rebuke tells us that Zechariah had given into hopelessness and despair.
3. Mary did not win the X Factor
Why did God choose Mary? This year’s BBC Nativity series gives us some insight into her love for and devotion to God. After all, as God reminded Samuel when choosing David, Jesus’ forefather, ‘people look at the outside, but God looks at the heart.’ Mary’s prophetic song to Elizabeth shows us what was in her heart, because ‘out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks.’
4. Mary had to be a virgin
The virgin birth is a much-derided doctrine in secular circles. However, it has to be true for a number of reasons. Firstly, to fulfil Isaiah’s prophecy (not a particularly good reason). Secondly, to make sense of the Incarnation. Jesus was born from a young woman who’d never slept with a man. Only this way can he both fully God and fully man.
5. ‘The heavens declare the glory of God’
Back to the BBC again. The star over Bethlehem, as dramatically portrayed in the Nativity series, was, it seems, a number of planets lining up in conjunction. While creation follows the laws established for it, still it displays the glory of God.
6. God loves smelly places
Jesus was born in a smelly, dirty stable. Immortalised in countless Christmas cards, the stable has become sanitised and beautified. Of course it wasn’t like that. Yet God was content for Jesus to be born there, because he values this beautiful, smelly, messed-up ball of a planet and the people on it beyond comprehension.
7. Everything God does starts small
(This is for Christmas Day 2010). We often want God to be big and dramatic. But Jesus said it never starts like that. We have to learn to see the seed of the Kingdom so we can nurture it into the tree it becomes. ‘Who despises the day of small beginnings?’ wrote Zechariah. Doesn’t get much smaller than a baby.
8. Both High and Low shall worship
The shepherds and the magi bring the heights of educated society together with the uneducated working class. One group came through their education and learning; the other because of a sign and a wonder. How we need both today.
9. God can take care of the sheep
Like the parable, the shepherds left their sheep on the mountains to search for the one. In this case, it was the King not the lost sheep. Yet, in both cases, we are remained that we sometimes have to leave the things we feel responsible for in God’s hands so we can follow him.
10. We have to journey into the unknown
The magi made a journey to find Jesus. They left the lives they knew (for a while) to seek out the King and bring back news of his birth. In the Song of Songs, the lover invites his beloved to find him ‘beyond the towns’, out in the wilderness. Too often, the comfortable and familiar keep us too busy and comfortable to take the journey to find Jesus.
11. Heaven could not help itself
On the mountainside, with only shepherds and sheep in attendance, heaven could not help itself. It had to celebrate. That’s what heaven’s like: any excuse for a party. Doesn’t matter who can come. Heaven’s own joy is reason enough to celebrate.
12. You find God in strange places
These days, we think we have to go to church to find God. The truth is, you find God in strange places. Not just religious places nor royal ones, but you find God in poverty and need, in sickness and in brokenness. These are no stranger than stable.

2010-12-19T19:38:00.004Z

Review of 2010/Preview of 2011

So, from an entirely subjective viewpoint, what were some of the main themes of 2010 and where might they take us in 2011?

2010 was the year when...

Austerity became the new black

The boom years couldn't last. In fact, they didn't. We thought we were surfing an economic wave that would last indefinitely, instead we've ended up smashing into the beach of economic reality. 2010 has been a tough year, but 2011 will be even tougher. Make no mistake, as the public sector lay-offs begin, certain parts of the country (South Yorkshire, the North-East) are going to face real trials ahead.

The last time this happened was the 1980's. I don't even remember it, being at boarding school for most of it. One thing I know, however, is that the Church was ill-prepared for what was happening in society around it. Unrenewed, with little missional zeal, food parcels were the best most congregations could offer. Perhaps, this time around, we'll do a little better.

Atheism overplayed its hand

I've just watched another atheist on 4thought.tv, this time lambasting Jesus' teaching on turn the other cheek. The atheism/faith debate remains a fascinating one, even if tends to be dominated by the extremists. However, my feeling is that the incredibly negative language of some atheistic contributors is starting to have a negative effect. (I'm particularly thinking of Richard Dawkins around the time of the Pope's visit). I may be wrong but it seems that the British public don't like having either faith or atheism shoved down their throats...

In 2011, we will have to get better at (kindly and politely) addressing the many questions thrown up by this debate. It will help if we stop being afraid of science.

However, words are not the only answer. Atheism does not offer a worldview by which most people can live. Lives lived well in grace and love will be as effective as well-rehearsed rebuttals.

Lady Gaga became the new black

2010 has seen Lady Gaga's star rise and rise. Lady Gaga has achieved the unlikely combination of adoring attention from both critics and public. We seem to love the fact that she is both profound and completely insane. The remarkable feats of presentation are combined with effortlessly fun pop tunes in the context of (what seems) a complete disregard for the bounds of convention and taste.

As someone with two young daughters, however, it's all a bit problematic. My eldest asked the other day whether Lady Gaga is 'good' or 'bad'. Normally a simple question, but in Lady Gaga's case, it provoked much thought and a fairly complicated answer.

Facebook won

RIP Myspace, Bibo, et al. 2010 was the year when Facebook won. You may like other social networking sites, but, face facts, Hollywood is not going to make a movie about the founders of Twitter. Facebook now has over 500 million users and has left the competition in the dust. This was illustrated to me during a BBC radio discussion about cyber-bullying. Having discussed Facebook (where it is an issue) and Twitter (where it's not), the host asked the BBC's technology correspondant about other social networking sites only to hear that they are no longer relevant because, basically, everyone's on Facebook.

In a communications team meeting recently, I amazed myself by musing how, compared to Facebook, our church's website seems so static. A few years ago, websites were considered the height of interactivity. Now, close your website and start a Facebook group. It's much easier and will do the job better.

So, roll on 2011!

2010-12-16T10:19:00.003Z

Why I believe in God (Part 1)
Evidence and Proof

This is an occasional series with my thoughts on the current dialogue within our culture and media between faith, doubt and unbelief.

I wanted to begin with some thoughts on the difference between evidence and proof. Most people of faith will tell you that you can’t ‘prove’ the existence of God. Unfortunately, in popular culture this sometimes transmutes into ‘there is no evidence for the existence of God’. This, in turn, leads to the idea that faith is irrational, or even anti-rational, because it is based on no evidence.
Yet, evidence and proof are not the same thing. Proof is undeniable; evidence may be open to more than one interpretation without either interpretation being ridiculous. Within a law court, evidence is presented and may be disputed, discounted or accepted. Evidence may provide proof or it may contribute to the wider case. The case as a whole may build on a number of pieces of evidence which together provide something which, if not absolute proof, is close enough to gain rational acceptance.
(In the current debate within our society, we seem to have replaced the law court with the laboratory – an issue I will pick up in a later post.)
I would like to suggest that you can’t prove the existence of God. Yet, I would also like to suggest that there is plenty of evidence for the existence of God.
What might this evidence be? We will consider some of these issues in more detail in future posts, but, in brief: why is there something rather than nothing? Why does the universe seem to work so well? Where does our sense of good and evil come from? Why do so many people believe in God?
There are, of course, different answers to each of these questions. The answers we provide offer evidence – data, if you like – in the dialogue between faith and unbelief.
For instance, if there were a loving God who desired to share that love more widely, then it is rational to believe he might create a universe within which people could develop who could know that love. This universe would need to be conducive to life, which ours, happily, is.
We might expect people who were designed to know God to have some prior connection to their Maker – perhaps to have some sense of what is right or wrong within the universe. It would be reasonable to expect a longing to know their Maker to exist within those people as well, a longing that might be expressed in myriad different cultural forms yet could be considered to be universal to all cultures, if not to all people within those cultures.
For me, all of this is evidence. Not proof, but evidence. While each piece is open to different interpretations, I don’t believe the evidence is fundamentally inconsistent with the existence of God.
Of course, the fact that we can’t prove the existence of God may even be evidence for the existence of God.
What if there were a loving God who wanted people to know him yet would not override their free will because love not given freely is not love at all? A God like that might litter the world with evidence in such a way that humanity might be drawn towards God without being forced to concede the existence of God.
Even Jesus said to his disciples, ‘They will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead’ (Luke 17.31). The piece of evidence that, for many, constitutes absolute proof of the existence of God is still, according to Jesus himself, something that people will assign many different interpretations to.
So, to my mind, any debate over whether we can ‘prove’ the existence of God misunderstands what it means to believe in God and fails to grasp the difference between evidence and proof. It is easy for both atheists and people of faith to fall into arguments over proof when a more helpful conversation might be achieved if we listen carefully to the evidence each other feels supports their point of view.
Next time: God is Not Material

2010-12-10T11:23:00.004Z

Pocket Futures

Culturally, we live in interesting times. Our society is becoming a mish-mash of cultural influences which, in my opinion, will be increasingly hard to define in the years ahead. I was reminded of this listening to Amanda Hancox from the BBC at our recent diocesan Clergy Conference. When talking about the BBC's strategy for connecting with as wide an audience as possible, she commented on how listeners in the North-East of the UK (for example) required a difference approach to listeners in London and the South-East.

Having lived in a large city for many years and now in a small, northern town, I am convined that our cultural present (and future) has become utterly fragmented. This is going to make it difficult to talk about overarching cultural trends (such as the shift from modernism to post-modernism) in the future as people's experiences and values vary from place to place and group to group.

My phrase for this is 'pocket culture'. I think in the future we are going to be unable to describe cultural trends in over-arching terms, but are going to have to face the reality that pocket cultures exist all over the UK, which are intimately connected to each other but have important distinctions as well. I think this may fly in the face of much contemporary thinking which has focussed on the shift from modernism to post-modernism or solid to liquid modernity (after Zygmunt Bauman and Pete Ward).

The reason for this is that we live in a time of transition. The certainties of modernism have proved themselves to be false, yet post-modernism is not up to the job of replacing those certainties with something equally concrete. Some enjoy the flux but most flounder. We need certainties by which to live, even if we say we don't. I'm increasingly feeling that post-modernism is a spent force, delighting in deconstruction which leaves us with nothing to hold on to. Its promises of greater freedom and personal autonomy have proved false as we have re-discovered that community is as critical to identity, meaning and purpose as is individuality.

This idea of 'pocket cultures' touches on why it is impossible currently to legislate nationally on issues such as Anti-Social Behaviour. Young people are gathering themselves into 'pocket cultures' which require people to enter each pocket of culture and find innovative ways to bring about change. Change is possible, of course, but each case is particular.

It also explains why, in churches, we might experience a move of God but, unlike in times past, our neighbours may not even notice (apart from more parking problems). Our 'cultural pocket' is not theirs. The revival we long for, then, is going to look very different from any we have seen before.

Yet, as a church leader, I am energised by this cultural shift. It has the potential to reinvigorate our sense of local mission as ideas imported from other 'pockets' may not work without serious adaptation. In our town, which is largely white and prosperous, there are various identifiable 'cultural pockets' who require different missionary strategies and possibilities. As a church, we are connecting with some of these but not others. Yet, the challenges, while challenging, are fascinating. In our larger cities, the issue is only amplified.

So, the questions is: what characterises the various 'pocket cultures' in your setting? What values do they hold? What hopes and dreams? And what missionary practices might be necessary for Christians to incarnate the Gospel within that particular pocket culture?

2008-08-25T16:24:00.003+01:00

Fallen Ministers
I keep telling myself that one day I'll get this blog business right...
The Charismatic/Pentecostal end of the Church is currently coming to terms with problems in the ministries of two significant people. One is Todd Bentley (pictured), about whom you may have read. After several months of non-stop revival meetings in Florida, the strain on Todd's marriage has been too much, he and his wife Shonnah have separated and he has to step down from ministry to attend more closely to building his marriage and family. You can read the official statements from his ministry, Fresh Fire, here.
The second comes out of Australia and is to do with Michael Guglielmucci, a well-known church leader with the Edge Church International and Planetshakers youth church. For two years, Michael has been faking a cancer diagnosis and even appeared on the DVD of Hillsong's latest album This is Our God singing his (amazing) song 'Healer' while attached to his oxygen mask...
While we've not heard of Michael over here, he's hugely popular in Australia and the problems he's just confessed to are going to hurt a lot of vulnerable Christians over there. The story is in the national Australian press (here) and here's one pastor's blog which is really good, gives a lot of detail and shows how much it's hurting them (here).
There's a lot to be said about both these issues. But when such things happen we have to ask ourselves whether these are a) individual problems or b) symptoms of structures and systems within the modern church. Of course, it's probably both. But it's important at this time to ask ourselves why we need Todd to wreck himself and possibly his marriage and why Michael lived for so many years of being unable to reconcile his public and private lives. What do we demand of our ministers? What do I, as a minister, believe is being asked of me by myself, those I lead and God? Are my expectations about ministry, leadership and revival so out of whack that they lead me to conduct my life and ministry without accountability and without rest? Both Todd and Michael are flawed characters, but we need to ask ourselves whether our models of church and revival and eating up the people we expect to maintain them.

2008-02-26T20:51:00.002Z

Sin - yum.
At college the prevailing view of sin is drawn from Romans and has to do with being a law-breaker. One is a sinner because one has broken God's law and offended his holiness, thereby incurring God's wrath, which Jesus satisfied on the cross... and so on. This is the view of sin that naturally develops from a penal substitionary view of the cross. It's to do with legalities, justice, satisfaction and so on.
Now, I don't have a problem with any of this. Except that the NT gives us a number of pictures of sin, and it doesn't quite sit with me that the view outlined above trumps all the others. Let me suggest some.
We have the legal/penal view I have mentioned. This is somewhat connected to hamarteia (excuse my Greek), which is 'falling short'. But the risk with these is that they focus on externals ('sins' rather than 'sin'). So, as we probe deeper, we ask the killer question: who holds your life? You or God? Whose hands is your life in? Yours of God's? Ultimately a sinner is someone who holds their life in their own hands, thereby refusing God. This does away with the 'but I'm a good person' thing. Whether you're a good person or not is irrelevant - whose hands is your life in?
Finally, there are two other, related views. Firstly, sin as sickness, which can be healed by the Great Physician. Secondly, and finally, sin as spiritual power, defeated by Jesus on the cross and ultimately thrown into the lake of fire (somewhere in Revelation).
These last views ask deep questions of life, too: are you well, or are their parts of your life where you are sick, imprisoned? You may be a good person, but does sin have its claws in you? Or, do you suffer from sin-sickness? If you will give yourself to the care of the Great Physician, he will help cure you, though you will have to admit your own part in the problem.
This is all a bit theological (well, I am at theological college), but has real implications for our witness. I'm not sure telling people who've never heard the law that they're law-breakers is going to help all that much. But asking the deeper questions - in my opinion - may reveal Jesus to them more effectively. And that, after all, is the point. Getting someone to accept that they're a sinner is not the point; getting them to accept they need a Saviour is.

2008-02-12T20:31:00.000Z

Society works without God
I'm working on a bit of a theory. It's a bit stream-of-consciousness. Here goes:
We live in a society that believes it can construct itself without God. Politically, we are a liberal democracy; economically, capitalist and consumerist. We have seen off the major competitors to our ideology (fascism & communism, and we are currently trying to fend off radical Islam), therefore we feel supreme in the 'rightness' of our social ideology (see Francis Fukuyama, The End of History).
This was brought home to me spending an afternoon in Sheffield Botanical Gardens with Roland Baker of Iris Ministries, Mozambique. He found it shocking to watch people walking, playing with their kids, having an ice cream... they were people who didn't need God. As he later said, he was used to being with people who live on the edge of hell, who knew how much they needed God. In Sheffield, he saw the other extreme: people who don't need saving; people who don't need a Saviour.
This is the great problem the Church faces: a society that doesn't need God. What do we do? The options seem to be either liberalise or ghetto-ise.
But, let's take a step back and ask ourselves a deeper question: is it possible to construct a society that doesn't need God? This is the age-old question: Can man (or woman, or transgendered person) live without God? Can we really answer every question, solve every problem...?
I would have to answer no. I believe in liberal democracy (kind of); I'm quite happy within a capitalist/consumerist economy (less certain, though I do like shopping). However, if I swallow the prevailing paradigm that we can construct a society that works for everyone that doesn't need God, I think I risk shipwrecking my faith. My faith may not die, but it will certainly get stuck.
We need God. But can we trace the evidence for that need within our society? I think we can. We see an ugly underbelly of consumerism, where young people shoot and knife each other. We see a breakdown of neighbourhoods, where people are suspicious of those around them. I'm not sure these are problems we just haven't fixed yet; I think they partly result from commodifying everything. Within a starkly individualist culture, we will find it more difficult to value each other.
Part of the Gospel message is to say, 'Man cannot live without God.' We have to challenge ourselves to see the evidence of that, even within a culture that claims the opposite. Much Gospel ministry has been to attend to those places society does not; maybe we need to consider that anew for our times. Otherwise, we risk joining the headlong plunge into the Shopocalypse (as Rev Billy calls it).

2008-01-08T20:14:00.000Z

Brain Matter

I'm so bad at having a blog...
New Year, new books. Here's a couple of interesting things I've been casting my eye over. The first is The Paradox of Choice by Barry Schwartz. This is a fascinating overview of our consumer lifestyles and whether maxmising choice is actually a good thing. The premise of the book is that, while choice is a good thing and certainly better than no choice, too much choice can actually be a negative thing.

A lot of choice makes the decision-making process harder, and produces more potential regret and anxiety over decisions made - did I get the best deal? Did I make the right choice... etc.

Sometimes choosing actually becomes too hard, because we can't cut off some options. This is 'choice paralysis' and is quite common in careers, relationships, etc especially among young adults. Have you ever met someone stuck in a job they didn't like because it was too difficult to make the decision to leave? Or someone with a good education who drifts through dead-end jobs looking for the 'right one' to land in their lap? Choice paralysis. A passivity sets in that means moving on is difficult.

Here's another one, a bit nuttier...
What Would Jesus Buy? by Rev Billy, pastor of the Church of Stop Shopping out of New York City (where else?). Rev Billy is a favourite of the Ship of Fools website, though I'm not sure he's actually ordained (or even a Christian, for that matter). Anyway, he leads his church in 'fabulous worships' and retail interventions in the face of the Shopocalypse, all trying to get people to stop shopping.
Now, I'm not down with much of this, but there is something in his passion that is brilliant. He really sees the danger of over-consumption and the disassociation between consumer and producer. I'm not very good at responsible shopping/fair trade/ etc. but this book made me laugh and just got me thinking.
Rev Billy's main targets are Starbucks, WalMart and Disney. This is unfortunate, as the England household is fairly Disney-fied. However, I see deliverance just coming over the horizon in the shape of... wait.. is that Barbie!?

Conservative Conference 2007: Dave Sharples

2007-11-22T19:09:00.001Z

2007-08-23T22:14:00.000+01:00

Future Tyrannies

I have just finished reading Children of Men by PD James and recently read V for Vendetta by Alan Moore, both because they were made into films (not seen V yet, there is a blog about Children of Men lower down). Both portray a future England which is ruled by dictatorial regimes following international emergencies. In V it is a nuclear war, in Children it is humanity's infertility with no children being born after 1997.
Children of Men is particularly good because the main character lives in North Oxford, where we live. It is very disturbing reading about him walking down the same roads I walk down but in a future where there is no one under the age of 25.
Anyway, V was written between 1981 and 1988 and Children in 1992. I was wondering what there was about that time (Tory administration?) that made both PD James and Alan Moore's thoughts tend towards the idea that England would fall under military rule? Answers on a postcard.

2007-08-23T21:44:00.000+01:00

A Crisis in Crime and Disorder

It's been an interesting week in PoliticsLand re young people and society. There has been a high profile on youth crime and last night an 11 year old was shot and killed in Liverpool. The quote above is from David Cameron and it really winds me up as an illustration of what is so frustratingly wrong about the whole debate.
We only have a crisis of crime and disorder because there is a crisis of hopelessness. These kids do not necessarily start out intending to live this way, but when their lives are dumped on the scrapheap by their early teens, it's no wonder crime and disorder result. This is not a national panic; it's a national tragedy. Newsnight did a brilliant article this week on NEETs - Not in Education, Employment or Training. There are 1.2million 16-24 year olds like this, apparently. (You can find it here. It's called 'Students with no future plans'). These are the young people on the social scrapheap. The common themes are fractured familes, poor education and little chance of a decent career.
Underneath it all is the utter absence of HOPE, the most precious commodity. The self-hatred, shame and hopelessness that these young people will never talk about but still experience must be staggering. A political solution is impossible. You cannot legislate for this stuff. It's a task that must be undertaken street by street and community by community.
I wonder what 'fixing' this situation would look like. Is it possible to imagine a society that didn't have these problems. Psalm 144 says:
Then our sons in their youth
will be like well-nurtured plants,
and our daughters will be like pillars
carved to adorn a palace...
There will be no breaching of walls,
no going into captivity, no cry of distress in our streets.
Our cities don't feel like this. If we don't find a way to value society's sons and daughters and help them fulfil these words, we will continue to hear cries of distress.

2007-07-10T14:40:00.000+01:00

EMINEM IS RIGHT

More to come on placement soon. But I have been writing an essay on Eminem, genius rapper (though now probably defunct since no new material forthcoming). On the way, I found this awesome article. You can read it here

I, obviously, relate personally to a lot of what is said, but it also gets me as someone who wants to speak to this generation.

Read it - now!

2007-06-20T15:04:00.000+01:00

Trinity Placement Blog 1

Trinity is an Anglican church of over 1,000 members in Cheltenham, England. This is pretty impressive given the local area has only about 170,000 inhabitants. This means nearly 1% of the local area go to Trinity. I am here for 5 weeks on placement and glad to be in a work environment. I actually want to get up in the morning, which wasn't often the case at college.

For me, Trinity is a very familiar environment to St Thomas' in Sheffield. But I'm sure I'm going to learn and grow while I'm here. On my first day, I went to King's Table, a lunch club for vulnerable members of society including those struggling with drugs, alcohol, mental problems and homelessness. In recent years, a cluster has started, which runs just before the lunch club, for those interested in studying the Bible and learning about the Christian faith.

On Monday, the Bible reading was John 14.15-27: 'If you love me, you will obey what I command. And I will ask the father...' and so on. Now, coming from a theological college context, I found myself thinking this was a bit dense for the people at the study. It seemed inappropriate. But as I sat and listened, a was drawn into this passage in a wonderful, new way. It was not a lecture, but a led discussion where anyone could join in. Three words from the passage jumped out to me during the discussion: counsellor, orphans and peace. For me, these words are complicated theological ideas. For the members of the study, that had completely different connotations. They have first-hand experience of counsellors and their role, or being orphaned or abandoned and of peace or the lack of it.

The group's vulnerability opened up new vistas in this passage for me. It was one of the best Bible studies I've been to for a while. Then we had a good lunch (better than college food for these vulnerable folk) and I got beaten at draughts twice by Graham. It's all good.

2007-06-07T20:20:00.000+01:00

Nearly the End of Term...
Dear friends, and anyone who found this by mistake... My apologies for so little posting recently. I've been using this to keep the thoughts I have in my head in some kind of long-term storage. As it turns out, I don't have nearly as many thoughts as I thought I would.
Anyway, the end of term is nigh. The departing students finish tomorrow on Commissioning Day, and I will miss them very much, especially my study buddies, Miles and Tom. We continuers have another few days on Leadership. One of my favourite subjects normally, so we shall see...
I have to say, being a student again is mentally exhausting! I'm not actually doing anything, but the sheer volume of thinking that goes on seems more tiring than holding down a normal job. One of my good friends was nearly in tears this morning, and I could empathise with her. She nearly got that rarest of things - a Richard England pastoral moment - but someone else sat down next to her.
The other ongoing thing has been the media controversy surrounding the hall. It's all a bit sad, and has undoubtedly contributed to what has been a difficult term indeed. It seemed like the difficulties within the staff were about to simmer down, and we were hoping for a period of calm, when the first piece broke in the Guardian. Since then, it has recurred in the Guardian, Independent, BBC, church papers and local student papers. And, of course, all over the blogs. Having surfed a little bit (Thinking Anglicans, Ship of Fools), I've been pretty depressed by the coverage. However, yours truly's last post has been trawled out on the Ship of Fools forum on Wycliffe (www.ship-of-fools.com, it's p12(!) of the forum).
I have been trying to keep reflecting on what's been happening. My general take is that it is necessary change. My church leadership background has helped, as I've seen similar difficulties before. But Wycliffe has a worldwide profile, so unfortunately what goes on here grabs attention in a way that wouldn't happen if it was a local church.
However, that's the key point: Wycliffe isn't a church. Most churches reflect the views of their leaders; if not to begin with, then eventually. But a college isn't like that. Wycliffe is full of obstinate know -it-all's from a variety of theological stables. I should know, I'm one of the most outspoken ones here. It is inconceivable that a new appointment or two could substantially move the college's theological outlook. Such a outlook is already as diverse as the student population.
Furthermore, what many people fail to realise is that the tone of the college is set by the students as much as by the staff. I found the college had moved substantially in its worship life even in the time between when I came on interview (March) and when I arrived (September). Who initiated this? The students. (If the staff had their way, I suspect there'd be a lot more liturgy!) Over the last few years, charismatic practices have become commonplace within the college: we have regular prayer ministry, singing in the Spirit (a little), healing prayer and prophetic words (a little). Who pioneered this stuff? The students, over several years. Sure, the staff encouraged it and gave it the space to happen, but it has been the students time and again who have pushed through change.
So, I'm looking forward to returning in the autumn. I'm actually glad of the staff changes, and I'm glad of the mixture of academic ability and genuine leadership experience that we'll have. I'm looking forward to meeting the new appointments, and I'm hoping for a quieter year.
I'll try to keep blogging over the summer. I'm on placement at Trinity. Cheltenham with Mark Bailey and really looking forward to it, then kicking around Ox with a couple of weeks here and there. TOM weekend first, though; guess I'll catch some of you there. And I'm trying to write an Eminem essay (love it) and my placement report, which I have already decided will be titled 'How to grow an Anglican church of over 1,000 outside London'. One of my wittier friends said the answer was to move to Nigeria.
Peace.

2007-05-17T20:10:00.000+01:00

Storm in a Theological Teacup

As you know, I am studying at theological college, training for Anglican ministry. It is, in general, a really positive experience, though academic institutions are quite different from the real world.
An extra dimension has been added to the college's life this year by an extensive falling-out among the staff. It has been rumbling on since before Christmas, came out into the open in January and hit new heights yesterday when it made p3 of the Guardian! Now, I normally prefer something a little more stimulating on my p3 (joke)!
You can find the article on the Guardian's website, if you're so inclined. Of course, it doesn't tell the full story and puts a nasty spin on it. What's clear, however, is that someone close to the college has actually fed this story to the paper. The problems in the college may be difficult, but they haven't made their way out into the church press, let alone the nationals. So, for it to turn up on p3 of the Guardian suggests someone got it put there.
This, then, got me thinking about how we, as Christians, deal with such difficult conflicts. I was reminded of how Paul had to deal with a similar situation in the church in Corinth (1 Corinthians 6). There, church members were suing each other in court. I suspect if they'd had the press like we do, Paul's advice would have been similar.
What struck me about this passage was v7: 'In fact, to have lawsuits at all with one another is already a defeat for you. Why not rather be wronged? Why not rather be defrauded?'
The situation at college isn't a victory for anyone. It's a defeat for all of us - once again, Jesus' body seems incapable of dealing with its problems itself. We make ourselves less than the surrounding culture, not the more we should be in Christ.
I found Paul's solution very challenging: rather than bring public shame on the Church, why not take the wounds or the in justice? Why not accept that you've been wronged and walk it out with God, rather than seeking justice, revenge, or some kind of undoing of what's been done? God knows about suffering injustice and wounds better than we do. What did Jesus do? - take it up with his Father? Summon legions of angels to avenge him? None of this - we took the wounds he was given and God used it to bring something greater out of it.
I predict I will get wounded as I go back into leadership. Then, what will I do about it? Fight back, get justice or take the wounds and the injustice and walk closer with the One who was wounded for me.

2007-04-22T19:48:00.000+01:00

CHILDREN OF MEN

By the way, we watched 'Children of Men' the other day (for £0.01 on Virgin Media!). It was really interesting on lots of levels, but there was a moment at the end which blew me away. Warning - if you haven't seen it, there are lots of spoilers ahead.
The context: no children have been born for 18 years, all the women are infertile. Clive Owen is recruited by a mad bunch of idealists to escort a young woman through police-state Britian. It turns out she is pregnant. They end up in a refugee camp which is half concentration camp, half ghetto, and there the baby is born. But they are trying to keep it hush-hush to get the baby out of Britain. The refugee camp becomes a war zone as the idealist rebels try to recapture Clive, mother and baby. They get caught in a skirmish between rebels and army, at which point (unsurprisingly) the baby starts to cry.
As the crying gets louder, gradually more and more people hear the little sounds of hope in a barren world. First, the refugees in the apartment block, then the soldiers and, just for a moment, all the guns fall silent as everyone stops at the sound of the baby's cries. Slowly, Clive walks baby and mum to safety through the soldiers in a moment of perfect silence, punctuated only the little tears. (This is what's happening in the photo.)
It's one of those rare moments of seeing hope enter the world. For me, it mixed Christ's first and second coming: the first time round he came as a baby, but, next time, he will silence every gun and everyone will see him.
Loved it - watch it!

2007-04-22T19:24:00.000+01:00

Faith Defeated before it Began

One of the things I've noticed around college (and outside, too) is that I meet people who have had crisis moments of failure or defeat. This crisis moment is formative in their spiritual growth and can haunt them for years to come. This is particularly the case in healing ministry. Early on, we launch out in faith in a specific situation only for that situation to get worse or even become a tragedy. This experience has a corrosive effect on one's hopes to grow in healing ministry, or even to trust God in other areas, because God simply no longer seems trustworthy.
Within the life of a community, such as a college or church, it is possible for such a crisis moment of tragedy or defeat to haunt the community, squashing its faith for years after. We may never talk about it, but it can become an unnamed stronghold of doubt, fear and pain. It reminds me of Herod's attempt to kill the baby boys in Bethlehem. Inspired by the devil, he wanted to destroy the revelation in its infancy before it could grow strong enough to make a difference. Many people seem to have had their sense of faith and revelation destroyed in its infancy, before it had time to grow into something that could withstand the sorrows of life, yet remain faith-full.
Part of the problem is how we negotiate such crisis moments. A good friend of mine has a very sick young person in his church. As we have talked about it, we have reflected on the need to pastor the situation appropriately now, but also to consider what might happen in a worse-case scenario.
When I was just beginning to learn about healing ministry, Mike Breen asked us, 'What happens when someone dies?' As always, he was three steps ahead of the rest of us. It's all very well to step out in healing, but what happens when the worst happens? Does such an event crush the community's faith or is it possible to allow each defeat, as in a conflict, to spur us on? Can every moment of failure or tragedy become fuel for the fire of our longing for the day when Jesus sets it all right? And can each crisis moment, in God's hands, actually help grow our faith into maturity, rather than crush our faith in its infancy?
The Bible says, 'we are not unaware of the devil's schemes' (somewhere) and I think this is one of them. To crush faith in infancy, that we might be defeated before we begin. However, in Christ, even the valley of Achor (trouble) is turned into a door of hope (Hosea 2).

2007-04-12T21:25:00.000+01:00

Dr Weinandy's Carrot Example

The most incredible book I have read since starting at college is 'Does God Suffer?' by Thomas Weinandy (a very cool, charismatic Catholic). The most incredible bit in it is this story, which he uses to illustrate the Incarnation. It's good theology, but it got me somewhere much deeper (and made me fall off my chair - literally).

The story is told as if to some of Dr Weinandy's students. Here we go...

'Jesus goes to Martha's, Mary's and Lazarus' home for dinner. Martha serves as a starter raw carrots with garlic dip (a yet to be discovered culinary invention). Jesus ate the carrots. Who was it who ate the carrots? It was the Son of God who ate the carrots. Was he eating the carrots as God or as man? Obviously, he was eating the carrots as man. God as God cannot eat carrots for he does not have teeth, a mouth, a stomach, etc. Lazarus also ate the carrots, but unfortunately he ate a rotten carrot and died of food poisoning. Four days later Jesus returned and raised Lazarus from the dead. Who was it who raised Lazarus from the dead? It was the Son of God who raised Lazarus from the dead. But did he raise Lazarus from the dead as God or as man? At this juncture there is silence among the students. Inevitably the more pious students first break the silence by saying that Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead 'as God.' I remain silent. Then some brave soul, usually a girl, will hesitantly whisper, almost inaudibly, 'as man.' That is precisely the correct answer. Within the Incarnation the Son of God never does anything as God. If he did, he would be God acting in a man (not as a man). This the Incarnation will never permit. All that Jesus did as the Son of God was done as a man - whether it was eating carrots or raising someone from the dead. He may have raised Lazarus from the dead by his divine power or, better, by the power of the Holy Spirit, but it was, nevertheless, as man that he did so.'

What does this mean? Jesus did everything that he did as a man - the Holy Spirit worked through him. That means you can do it too...

2007-03-31T20:49:00.000+01:00

Here are some photos from our front garden. We discovered it full of blooming flowers and blossoming bushes on our return from a week away. We have really noticed Spring in Oxford this year. Much more than in Sheffield. Here we live on the northern-most edge of Oxford, right next to a huge park, which leads onto open fields. In Sheffield, we lived in the urban sprawl which is the north of Sheffield.

When I used to work with the estate kids in STOMP, we sometimes talked about 'environmental poverty'. This is one aspect of poverty where people who live in deprived areas rarely get the chance to leave those areas behind to visit the country. They are cut off from the seasons and rhythms of life and exist in an artificial, urban world. One of the STOMP clubs took some of their kids out into the Peak District once and one child said they had never seen a cow for real before!

I guess I always assumed we were immune to that, but, being in Oxford, the difference has been noticeable. Spring has been such a blessing this year. I must be getting older...

2007-03-30T10:01:00.000+01:00

The Seventh Sense

Apologies for the recent hiatus.

So, what is faith? I teach about faith a lot, so I have to keep reflecting about it myself. To have faith in such a doubt-riddled society as ours is, I think, one of the greatest challenges Christians face. But, if our estimation of faith is wrong, then we will struggle to grow in faith at all.

Many people say to me, when I ask them, 'What is faith?', that faith is a gift. This is a reflection of one interpretation of Ephesians 2.8 - 'For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith, and this is not from yourselves - it is the gift of God.' So grace is a gift, but faith is, too. The problem with this is that it means I do not participate in my own salvation; it is something done to me by God, rather than the initiative of God, to which I respond. To say faith is a gift also makes no sense of the distinction between grace and faith: if it's all gift, we even introduce the idea of faith? Simply call it grace and be done with it. But faith is there, because faith is our part.

Faith is a gift, but only in the sense that sight is a gift, or hearing is a gift, or your sense of smell is a gift. (Not always a welcome gift when changing nappies.) Andrew Lincoln (who taught me as an undergraduate reading Biblical Studies at Sheffield Uni) says of Ephesians 2.8 that, 'faith is a human activity, but a specific kind of activity, a response which allows salvation to become operative, which receives that which has already been accomplished in Christ' (WBC, Ephesians).

Sight needs something to look at; hearing needs something to hear. Sight can be provoked by the mundane, the profane, or even the divine. In the same way, I think, our faith works on many levels. We put our faith in many things. Friends, family, money, career, relationships, experiences, etc. But true faith is only drawn out of us in response to true revelation (which comes from God's Word). Looking at God provokes faith in a deeper and more real way than anything else, because our desire to believe ('I want to believe') is only satiated in the One who is worth our faith. In some, perhaps, it lies dormant. In others, it is misplaces, but it is still there. Not some new ability bestowed from above, but something we live with (or without) all our lives, looking for something truly awesome to believe in.

I need to have more faith. Paul said, 'we walk by faith, not sight' (somewhere in the NT). And that's exactly right, because faith is a new kind of seeing, a new kind of sensing. As I learn to let my faith grow into more areas of my life then I find more of God's Kingdom: greater peace, rest and trust. And I need a lot more of that.

Hillsong - Mighty To Save

2007-03-07T14:42:00.001Z

I'm at theological college in the UK. So every now and then I need a bit of encouragement. Maybe you do, too...

2007-02-22T16:15:00.000Z

BUILDING THE ARK

'The Lord said to Noah to build him an Arky, arky...' No, I'm not going all Ned Flanders. However, the story of Noah has been exercising me recently. We looked at it in Church (in the Kitchen, moo, moo, moo) the last two weeks.

The story is ridiculous - as you'll know, Noah didn't live near any water so building a big boat would have looked stupid. But there is also an urgency present in the story. Even though it took time, what compelled the builders was the reality of a judgement about to fall on the earth, and the boat was the only way through.

Now, obviously, looking back, we know that Jesus is the Ark, etc., etc. But where are we? Are we in the boat, carried safely through the storms? Are we on the other side, enjoying a new creation, wiped clean of sin? Or... are we called to help build because we've heard the rumble of thunder and we know a storm's coming?

As Christians, we know that the various 'days of the Lord' in the Bible, including the flood, are actually foreshadows of 'the' day of the Lord. That day, God will wrap it all up and present the final solution for sin and evil: the cross for those who believe and have accepted it; something else for others. So, for now, our job is to build the biggest boat imaginable, to bring as many people with us. Sometimes it looks ridiculous, building a boat for a flood that will never come. But it will come - perhaps not in my lifetime, but nevertheless.

It was only when God had brought all the animals that the flood began (nb. God brought the animals, Noah didn't have to go find them). And, in the same way, Jesus said only when the Gospel is preached to all nations will the end come.

Right now, I'm conscious of judgement. I'm conscious of the consequences of living in a world that lives most of the time outside of grace. It has repercussions in our children, in our society and in lots of other ways. This is not my normal message: it's normally grace, grace, grace. But, just now, I'm aware of the reality of judgement. And the response of the believing heart is not to run and hide and call for the rocks to fall on us. Nor is it to build a boat small enough for your family. It is to build an ark - big enough to take as many as will come - every kind of person, just as there was every kind of animal. After all - if you build it, they will come...

2007-01-21T22:13:00.000Z

GETTING THINGS DONE
By the way, I got something done. I bought the book.
Will it change my life? Let's see...

2007-01-21T21:34:00.000Z

CHURCHPLANTING: BETWEEN THE FIRE AND THE SHOP WINDOW
Since moving to Oxford, we have joined a church plant of 40+ people called 'Church in the Kitchen' (see the new link on the right). As the church is less than 2 years old, it is refreshingly free of institutionalisation. However, it is illustrative of some of the challenges church plants (and older churches) go through.
A church has to decide what it wants to be. Assuming it doesn't just want to be a holy club, it then has to make a decision about its order of priorities and how those priorities play off against each other. If, for instance, a church places a high value on 'accessibility', does that mean that you tone down worship and spiritual gifts, in case you put people off? Equally, if Sunday mornings are the shop window, as it were, you have to decide how, when and where to build your core, disciple them and keep fanning the flame that will fuel what you do.
On the other hand, wacky, charismatic stuff can be off-putting, and can also act as a cul-de-sac for churches who chase the next move of the Spirit and never get engaged with their community. If Sunday mornings act to fan the flame for the faithful, when and where does meaningful interaction (that might lead to something) actually happen? Are a whole set of new, evangelistic programmes necessary because no one's coming to come on a Sunday morning?
These are questions common to churches across the land. But what got me thinking was this:

The apostles performed many signs and wonders among the people. And all the believers used to meet together in Solomon's Colonnade. No one else dared join them, even though they were highly regarded by the people. Nevertheless, more and more men and women believed in the Lord and were added to their number. (Acts 5.12-14, TNIV)

This seems like a gathering to fan the flame: miracles, big church and so on. Other people seem reluctant to get involved (though for different reasons than in our context!). But still people are coming to the Lord. Gathering to fan the flame doesn't imply a disconnection from the world around.
I think one of the clues to this is found a little earlier in the story:

Everyone was filled with awe at the many wonders and signs performed by the apostles... Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved. Acts 2. 43-47.

There is a similar picture here to Acts 5, but with an important addition: the worship life of the gathered church overflows into daily life. It touches the lives of the people around the church. There is an inherent connection between the meeting together and the living it out. This is powerful stuff. The challenge for us is: can we do it?

2007-01-16T21:48:00.000Z

UNDER THE HOOD
Since coming to Wycliffe, the Lord has been gently working on my inner life and attitudes. Nothing too catastrophic, but there have been a steady stream of challenges about how I need to live as a Christian and a leader now and in the future. I've summarised them below.

1) Cutting the Wind
(Is this the right phrase? It could be 'breaking the wind' but... well, you know.)
I've heard that when geese migrate, they take it turns to fly at the point of the V. The lead goose, who is cutting the wind, has the hardest job, but the others can fly in its slipstream and need less energy to keep going. So they gradually switch round to share the work of cutting the wind. This is a good picture of what life was like for me in Sheffield. As part of a large team ministry, I very occasionally was the one cutting the wind. But, mostly, I could stay in the V and survive off other people's revelation. Now, however, I need to learn how to cut the wind much more myself. This is particularly in bringing fresh revelation and vision and depends a lot on me digging into the Bible more.
2) Taking the Initiative
I've realised again how passive I can be in situations where I don't feel like I know what's going on. If I don't feel in control myself, I tend to withdraw rather than step forward and bring some order to whatever I'm not sure about.
3) Getting Things Done
I regularly bemoan my procrastination before the Lord. Why do it today when I can put it off till tomorrow? Aargh. At a recent NWO day I was repenting earnestly (well, confessing, at least) and later on that day a book was recommended called 'Getting Things Done'. Just perfect for me. If only I could get round to buying it...

2006-12-09T21:13:00.000Z

Campus Collisions

I have finished my first term at college. Hurray! I am not exactly overworked but glad of the break. The college environment is stimulating but can be mentally exhausting. I have 4 weeks off over Xmas and an essay to write (I've only actually written one so far).
The terms are bookended by Integrated Study Weeks (ISWs), which give the chance to examine an area of life/theology/ministry more closely and from various different angles. My year group's first ISW was this week and was on 'The Holy Spirit in Ministry'. It was largely excellent, but illustrated the ongoing tensions between groups of Xians who hold different views on how the ministry of the Holy Spirit should be understood and experienced today. Again and again, the main place where those tensions are experienced was said to be among Christians at university.
Those that know me know that I know all about this, having been a student worker for 3 years. I pushed through some changes which made me pretty unpopular in certain circles. However, what I realised pretty quickly is that what defines these collisions in university circles is generally not theological conviction, but insecurity and immaturity. For young Christians, university is often the first time they experience churches and Christians from traditions/convictions other than their own. For some, this leads them on a journey of significant change, as they reflect on their upbringing and spiritual formation and introduce new elements to it. For others, it can be incredibly threatening as they seek to justify why their way/church/position is the right one, in opposition to what anyone else thinks.
Throw in all the usual hormonal issues, the lack of the usual support structures of family, long-term friendships and church involvement and it's no wonder it can all get pretty intense. What I wonder is whether it's possible to get so hurt and entrenched at this stage that one never stops fighting that battle. We may justify our positions theologically, but often there's something much deeper going on. We feel threatened by others who believe/behave differently; we feel hurt by careless words and actions; we feel disappointed because we didn't find what we were looking for in God/church/Christians.
It's been an interesting week for me as I reflect on how beat up I feel by my campus collisions of the last few years. I recognise that I collided as hard with others as they did with me. I think there's some healing going on. I certainly hope so, because I don't want to mistrust others because my own recent uni experience casts long shadows.

2006-11-29T19:31:00.000Z

The Pioneer of Our Faith

Kathryn and I have been watching 'Into the West' on BBC2 on Saturday nights about how the West was 'won'. It shows the astonishingly rapid changes that swept across North America as it went from native American territory through colonisation and into industrialisation in a remarkably short space of time.
There is a verse in Hebrews 12, which in the TNIV version we use at college (I am loving it) says: 'let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith...' Being familiar with the old, trusty NIV, I'm more used to hearing about Jesus the author and perfecter of our faith, so the different translation stood out to me.
Many of us view the UK as 'pioneer' territory right now, in terms of the Gospel. The CofE even has a new designation for those seeking ordination: pioneer ministers. This reflects the rapid decline in the influence of the church and the Gospel over the last three generations. The language of pioneering sounds exciting; it makes us look bold and innovative. Back in Sheffield, being more a 'settler' than a pioneer almost seemed a dirty word.
But pioneering is costly. It involves sacrifice. In episode 2 of Into the West, Jacob Wheeler sets out for California with his family and three female cousins as part of a wagon convoy (what's the right term?). But none of the cousins make it: two die and the third is taken by native Indians, where she ends up married to the chief. Jacob himself is left to die as illness strikes the wagon train (I think that's the right word.)
It cost Jesus everything to pioneer our faith. Now, in heaven, he intercedes for us that we might be perfected in what he began on earth. He is both pioneer and settler; both author and perfecter. The first pioneers left little enough behind them and paid a disproportionate sacrifice for their efforts. It was those who came later that settled the land and lived off its wealth. It may be that pioneering, though romantic, is not only more costly but reaps little reward in this life. Yet, we need to lay a foundation so that future generations can hear the Gospel in a church that is able to communicate to its culture. So someone needs to leave the safe havens and venture into the 'uncolonised' bits of our society. Having a pioneering vision is one thing; being prepared to make the sacrifice another thing entirely.

2006-11-27T22:11:00.000Z

In The Fight

One of my closest friends is currently in hospital. He has serious problems associated with the fluid around his brain. There is no need to panic yet but it is a source of much concern and prayer to his friends and his church. Inevitably, as this has been discussed the concept of spiritual warfare arises. 'It's definitely attack' someone says. Another says they've had a word from the Lord that it represents an attack against the missionary order my friend and I are members of, or the church that he leads. This language heightens the intensity of the situation and we quickly find ourselves talking about prayer and fasting, as if there were some sense in which we are 'fighting back' against this attack of the Enemy.

For anyone in any doubt, I'm absolutely clear about the reality of evil. I have no problem with the idea of being in a battle as Christians. But using the language so glibly, without considering the implications of what we say when we claim, 'It's definititely attack' makes me a little nervous. What do we say about the relationship between God and the devil when we define a particular event as 'spiritual attack'? Does the devil have free rein to hurt/injure/attack Christians? This can seem to be the assumption underlying much of our language.

As I've been thinking about this, I've come to a few conclusions:
1) Evil does not have unbridled free rein in our world. It exists within limits. These limits are set by God. When we claim that something is an 'attack', are we giving evil more credit, and more power, than it really has?
2) Often, when we begin down this path, it's easy to lose sight of the people involved. My friend is not a pawn in a cosmic battle; he's a dearly loved child of God. He's a husband and a father and a leader in his community. While the cosmic, spiritual dimension is important, so is the human one, which can take second place when we hear a call to arms.
3) In moments of spiritual pressure, I'm often reminded of Jude 9. This refers to an apocryphal story about the fate of Moses' body, but there is a spiritual principle here. When the angel Michael was 'disputing with the devil about the body of Moses, [he] did not bring an accusation against him, but said, "The Lord rebuke you!"'When directly confronting the demonic, it is often necessary to rebuke evil spirits and command them to leave, but in situations of dispute and warfare, what we really need is to implore the Lord to fight for us. If Michael didn't rebuke the devil, but called on the name of the Lord, how much more do we need to do the same in our prayers.
4) Absolutely no effort on our part can make us more spiritually victorious, except that prayer and fasting lead us into greater humility and Christlikeness. So, as we pray, we are not seeking to assert our will over a situation of spiritual warfare but imploring that God be sovereign, that his rule and reign be demonstrated in this situation and that the ones we love should be protected from evil and the evil one. In short, praying like Jesus taught us.
5) Finally, the devil's power is as much in exploiting our fears and fascination with the spiritual as in direct confrontation. Direct confrontation seems to often be his last resort as, by then, he has to show his hand. I'm sure the devil is at work in this situation. But his work is to distract and confuse, and to keep us from our mission of advancing the Kingdom. When we focus on that, there'll only ever be one winner: Jesus.
Anyway, a few thoughts. Let me know what you think.
Richard

2006-11-27T21:45:00.000Z

Hi there. Thanks for coming to my blog. I've been a term in vicar school at Wycliffe Hall, Oxford. This term has shown me how much I need to process what I think about, especially at college. Life always throws up things that get me thinking, but much of it gets mentally filed (i.e. forgotten).

But reflection is best done in community. Please, join in ...