The wonder of Woolies - again!

Earlier this year, all of the branches of Woolworths closed across the UK, so there are no Woolies adverts on TV this Christmas.  Many of the shops have remained closed, probably due to the unhelpful economic climate.

I was delighted to hear on the radio this morning that one of the stores had opened again in the run up to Christmas.  It's only going to be open for a week - and it's being run by St. Andrews Church in Bo'ness [story here].

I love the thinking behind this decision - to provide an opportunity for people - shoppers - to experience something of the spiritual aspect of Christmas, in the midst of their shopping trip.  Taking the good news to where the people are - it's not new in itself, but I like the way that the opportunity of a vacant shop has been taken, it's innovative, it has the potential to capture the imagination of the passers by, and it certainly gives out a positive message about the church.

When I heard this I was reminded of a sermon that I listened to recently.  Harvey Carey (preaching at Willow Creek - you can find it here) told the congregation that:

"God is calling you not to be boring anymore... Don't do the same stuff year after year."

I don't think he could level that accusation at the congregation of St Andrew's in Bo'ness - at least, not this year.

Where is the prophetic voice of the church?

Another child’s death filled our headlines for a day or two this week. This time it was Brandon Muir from Dundee – killed by his mother’s drug-using boyfriend. As he was dying from his injuries, his mother was prostituting herself to fund her drug habit.

The details of the story fill me with horror and rage. If you have the stomach for it you can read more on the BBC website or in The Herald.

For once, our politicians seem to have responded to this tragedy in a mature way. Dare we hope that they’ve learned that something needs to change in our society?

Annabel Goldie talked about the “tragic exposure of Scotland’s broken society.”

Adam Ingram, the Minister for Children, said:

“We need to … break a vicious cycle of poverty, deprivation, substance misuse which is all too evident in our society.”

And:

“You’re never going to get a 100% fool-proof system and that’s why we have to tackle the root causes of the problems, not just the symptoms.”

Researchers have estimated that between 40,000 and 50,000 children in Scotland live with at least one drug-addicted parent. (That doesn’t take account of those living with parents who misuse alcohol – and there’s not exactly a shortage of them in Scotland!)

And the churches said… NOTHING! At least, I haven’t heard or read anything from any of the churches.

This seems to epitomise what I referred to in my entry on the U2 lyrics. Is there a more important social issue in Scotland right now?

What are the root causes that Adam Ingram was talking about? Poverty, deprivation, community responsibility, hope for the hopeless - amongst others?

Who - in the churches - is doing the thinking?

How do we get a conversation going about this?

Where should we be raising a prophetic voice?

How should we be demonstrating Christ’s love?

I genuinely don’t know the answers to any of these questions, bit I am convinced that if the church is to be relevant, we must tackle this type of issue - sensitively, openly, courageously and biblically.

“We do, of course, need to be wise in deciding what we should get ‘prophetic’ about, and how to pitch it… well-informed and courageous challenges to values that are inimical to the gospel and damaging to our society, will strike a chord in many people’s heart.

And we must show, by word and by life, that there is – however unfashionable – a different and better way.”

- Helen Parry (LICC)

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Durham windows

Another of my Durham observations was church windows - from the outside. At the time my interest mainly related to the shapes and patterns that could be seen.

St Nic's in the Market Place

The wonderfully named "Our Lady of Mercy and St Godric's"

This one is from the Cathedral - and when Dolly D saw it she remarked, "It looks different from the outside". It strikes me that this statement could equally apply to churches ancient and modern.

The window that I like most was the one below - from Elvet Methodist with the late afternoon sun catching the simply pattern.

The analogy that springs to mind - let your light shine before men. How much light do our churches actually emit?

Participating and spectating

We recently spent a couple of nights in Durham (far too short!). Durham is a wonderful place, which has never failed to inspire and delight me/us.

As ever we visited the magnificent cathedral. Access to part of it was restricted as they were preparing for Evensong, which is fair enough - it is a working church after all. We wandered around the unrestricted bit, then headed to the cafeteria for a cup of tea and a wee cake (very nice).

When we went back into the cathedral, Evensong had started. The choir were singing and there was a small group of people at the back of the cathedral listening, so I joined them. I don't know what the choir were singing, but it was polished and clear and wonderful to listen to ... but then I realised that I was a spectator at a performance rather than a participant in an act of worship.

This was a real contrast to our visit to St Nic's in the Market Place on Sunday morning. The service wasn't polished, the music was competent but not brilliant - but the atmosphere was warm and a sense of worship and togetherness filled the place.

What's the difference? It was nothing to do with the cathedral, and everything to do with me. I didn't go to the cathedral expecting to be part of a church service, and I didn't adjust my mindset when I was inside either. The difference is about 'coming expectantly' and offering ourselves in worship - participating not just spectating.

Nec tamen consumebatur

Final entry (for now) about Dunkeld cathedral. Inside the church (the bit with a roof), there's a really nice, worship-ful atmosphere. In each pew there's a wee card with some thoughts to help you spend 5 minutes praying - I liked this.

However, I was really taken by the carpet in front of the communion table. Aye, I know how weird that sounds but look carefully at the photo and see all of the elements that make it up.

I think that the burning bush is a very appropriate feature in a church that survived the excesses of the Protestant mob. It's also the symbol of the Church of Scotland, which has the motto nec tamen consumebatur (hence the title of this entry). For those of you who didn't 'enjoy' a classical education (although I don't remember a lot of joy declining Latin verbs), it means 'However it was not consumed'. Pretty apt, don't you think?

Religious extremism ... in Dunkeld!!

More ponderings/ramblings on our visit to Dunkeld yesterday.

The wee cathdedral is "a game of two halves". The original cathedral was destroyed during a fit of un-controlled iconoclasm during the Scottish Reformation in 1560. The leaders of the Reformation ordered that the statues and icons and such-like should be removed, but that the building should not be damaged. The zeal (or greed?) of the mob got the better of them and the cathedral was destroyed.

I'm pleased to say that there is still an active, lovely wee kirk at one end of the building (unlike St Andrews where something similar happened).

Powerful thing, religious emotion - easy to incite, difficult to control. Sounds familiar?

It strikes me that it's all too easy to judge the motives and behaviours of others - but if we look at our own history, there are parallels that are due to human behaviour - not creeds or beliefs.

Why celebrate Easter?

OK - the question's a wee bit misleading. What I really mean is why celebrate Easter in a special way, on a date determined by the moon and the vernal equinox? I remember having a conversation with one of our deacons several years ago, when we discussed the merits of any 'special' days in the ecclesiastical calendar. After all, we should live each day in the light of Easter ...

I suppose there's a cultural element of Calvinstic suspicion of high days and holy days behind this thought process!

Having said that, I do believe that we should celebrate Easter in a special way. In part because it's one of those occasions when people attend church who wouldn't ordinarily cross the threshold. So it's an oppor-chance-ity for them to hear about Jesus.

But I think there's a more important reason. I think that it's a chance for Christians to reflect on the theological significance of Jesus' death and resurrection. Now I know that talking of theology puts some people off, but there are ways to do this without over-complicating things.

I was listening to a podcast recently featuring the late Jaroslav Pelikan talking about the Need for Creeds. Pelikan has studied Christian creeds in depth - and despite my Calvinistic suspicion of creeds (anyone spotting a recurring theme?), I think that there is great value in using creeds to communicate longstanding beliefs.

Two things stood out for me in the Pelikan podcast:

1 - He spoke of the Liturgy of St John Chrysostom (used in the Greek Orthodox church), where the congregation say, "Let us love one another that with one mind we may confess the Holy Trinity one in essence and undivided." In other words, the creeds exist within the context of love - God's love for us and our relationships in a loving community.

2 - He also said that one of his favourite creeds is the Maasai creed. I'd never heard this before, but I think that it's absolutely wonderful!

"... always on safari doing good, curing people by the power of God, teaching about God and man, showing that the meaning of religion is love"

Easter is for creeds? Any thoughts?

Living in eloquent cocoons

A few weeks ago I was pointed in the direction of an article from the Wall Street Journal. Peggy Noonan was writing about the eloquence of Barack Obama – or rather the lack of it as she defines it.

On this side of the Atlantic, we’re mercifully spared blanket coverage of the Presidential nomination process – although it is impinging a lot more than it used to!

I’m not in a position to draw any conclusion about Barack Obama, but Noonan’s comments triggered two lines of thought that I have been mulling over.

Firstly, she comments on eloquence:

“Eloquence is deep thought expressed in clear words. With Mr Obama the deep thought part is missing. What is present are sentiments… He doesn’t unpack his thoughts… He asserts and keeps on walking.”

It seems to me that this is true in many walks of life – but with particular reference to a lot of preaching. Speeches are prepared, words are organised sometimes elegantly, even poetically – but the thoughts expressed are well-worn hand-me-downs.

To unpack thoughts requires the discipline of application, the balanced consideration of points of view that are outwith the norm of the preacher. Maybe, we’ve focussed too much on the presentation at the expense of thinking?

The second thought from Noonan’s article is based on her analysis of the Obamas’ (Mr & Mrs) understanding of America:

“Have they been, throughout their adulthood, so pampered and praised – so raised in the liberal cocoon – that they are essentially unaware of what and how normal Americans think? And are they, in this, like those cosseted yuppies, the Clintons?”

Are we in the churches guilty of something very similar?

A vision to inspire

I listened to a really good sermon today - by Nicky Gumbel of Holy Trinity Brompton. I hesitated about blogging about it, but given the title of my blog I thought it was kind of appropriate.

It's about 45 minutes long, and I found the second part to be really exciting and energising. It's the type of vision that we need for our churches today.

"I don't want you to be put off by the scale of this vision, in which you're involved."

If only ...

You can find the sermon here.

pathways of prayer

We had a brilliant church service this morning. After my recent gripes about songs - there were only 3, and about 10 prayers. It really was amazing. The speaker was taking us through something called "pathways of prayer" - which is a study course created by Churches Together in Britain and Ireland. It's intended to be for Lent - we're just a bit late catching up with it.

The guy who was taking our service today has created a calendar for use through Lent, which should be useful. I know that prayer is a major deficit in our church an dhopefully this will help us to focus on it and develop some good, lasting habits in the coming weeks.

Inspired by the concept and the uplifting service, I came home and created this:

Extreme Pilgrim concludes (again)

I finished yesterday's blog entry with a question - The question is how do we maintain the spiritual dimension in our lives – short of trekking half-way around the globe and doing headstands in a thong?

I have two answers, or approaches, to suggest.

Mark Sanborn has posted a blog about Space and Place to Think. I think that this offers a clue - find a place and space to be with God. It doesn't have to be a Himalayan mountain-top, but it should be somewhere meaningful for you. Find it, and then go there regularly.

The second suggestion is to do it regularly - for me connected to Sabbath (again). David Adam talks of his belief in recital theology (in Power Lines). I am thinking of it as repetition within a pattern. The point is to establish a regular habit and stick with it. Don't wait for a spiritual crisis, make it part of your weekly. It should become natural in time - and fit in with other commitments.

Does it have to be any more complicated than that?

Extreme Pilgrim concludes

The BBC’s Extreme Pilgrim reaches its conclusion this week – or does it?

The series will end on Friday night, but will Peter Owen-Jones reach any conclusions or find any satisfactory answers on his quest to find a spiritual dimension to his faith? I hope he does – primarily so that we can all learn from his adventure. I’ve also warmed to him over the course of the first two instalments, and I hope that he finds some answers for himself.

Before the series does conclude I thought I’d share my thoughts so far – based on what we’ve been shown. First of all, as PO-J has relaxed and retreated from (Western) society, he has found more peace and seems more at ease. This seems to point toward a need to slow down and step back from the hurly-burly of every day life. This fits with some of my own developing thinking about establishing Sabbath practices as an integral part of our lives.

Secondly, PO-J’s progress has also been linked to his involvement in small communities - in the mountain-top Buddhist monastery and in the Indian village in the foothills of the Himalayas. The lessons here seem to be that we do not exist in isolation, and certainly few of us will not find a spiritual dimension in completely retreating from the world.
The question is how do we maintain the spiritual dimension in our lives – short of trekking half-way around the globe and doing headstands in a thong?

Extreme wholeness

More thoughts about Extreme Pilgrim and the spiritual dimension to faith in the West.

“Our job is not to figure out the how. The how will show up out of commitment and belief in the what.”
Jack Canfield

I’ve been using the ethos of this quotation all over the place recently – and probably driving people crazy in the process – because I firmly believe that we are prone to jumping straight to the ‘how’, rather than identifying clearly what the ‘what’ is.

Applying this to the Extreme Pilgrim – or at least my interest in it – Peter Owen-Jones is looking at some of the ‘hows’, but what is the ‘what’? On reflection, the ‘what’ is not about the spiritual dimension as such. The ‘what’ is the search for wholeness and balance. If we only focus on the spirit, we will inevitably neglect something else (body or mind). I think this is where we end up when we pull back from the extreme of Extreme Pilgrim (and I’ll be interested to see where P O-J ends up).

We can think of wholeness in a variety of ways:
- Mind/body/ spirit
- Creative/ productive
- Prayer/reflection/ study/ application
- Life/ work/church
- etc, etc, etc

The point with any of these combinations is to find the right balance. This doesn’t mean equal portions, and the balance will vary for each of us.

The dissatisfaction with the spiritual dimension that I’ve been speaking about recently, is a consequence of losing the balance. Of giving too much emphasis to other dimension (mainly the mind in my view).

If we commit to finding our own balances, then we might find the ‘how’ that we need.

One final thought – look at the balance in Jesus life on earth. He spent time in prayer (spirit); teaching (mind); and healing (body). He also rested and enjoyed the company of others. An all-round balanced life. Dare we aspire to this?

Following the extreme pilgrim

Have we lost the spiritual dimension to Christianity in the West?

To a large extent I believe that we have – or at least we have diminished the importance of it. Maybe this is due to the post-Reformation fear of ‘mumbo jumbo’ – so the focus was moved from feeling to knowing. Then as a result of the Enlightenment, knowledge and rational thinking became a dominant theory in church life. More recently we have perhaps emphasised the aspect of the ‘personal salvation decision’, rather than developing a relationship with God.

I realise that all of these points are contestable, but it seems to me that they fit a picture of Western, Protestant Christianity that I recognise.

So what if the analysis above is correct? What do we need to do about it?

Well, I came across a publisher blurb for a book on Henri Nouwen, which talked about “… escaping the tyranny of busyness, choosing to live in ways that, moment by moment, remind us of who we are – the beloved of God.” I like that!

The key to any solution (if a solution is needed), is to recognise and define the problem, then carefully consider what it is that is trying to be fixed. I suggest that this is not a quick fix or extreme makeover of the sort you see on TV. Rather it’s about adapting and adjusting our approach and building a more balanced perspective.

More to follow … but in the meantime a quotation from an Indian philosopher to think about:

“A cup is useful only when it is empty; and a mind that is filled with beliefs, with dogmas, with assertions, with quotations is really an uncreative mind.”
Jiddu Krishnamurti

Extreme pilgrim

I stumbled across this programme last night on BBC2 - you can watch it online for the next few days using BBC’s iPlayer. In my opinion it’s worth watching, although you may need to stick with it for a while. I didn’t find the first bit particularly endearing, but was quite captivated by the end!

Initially my interest was at a fairly superficial level. I had a degree of empathy with a middle-aged, unfit man entering a month of martial arts training. However, as the programme proceeded, I began to see some resonance with the spiritual quest that he was on. In his view, the church has become too intellectual, with not enough spirituality. In his words:

"What I'm looking for is a spirituality that is absent from western Christianity. A spirituality I know exists in the extremes of world religions.

I hope to enter worlds where rule book and doctrine are replaced by an individual relationship with God and where the attainment of enlightenment is won by hardship, privation and pain. I have to become an extreme pilgrim."

I certainly agree with the first part of his statement.

Yesterday, I also came across a blog entry talking about Konrad Lorenz and his view that man has lost the capacity to be reflective.

These two discoveries have certainly caused me to pause and reflect a bit.

Have we – in the Western, Protestant churches – lost the spiritual dimension to our faith? Have we intellectualized and neutralized our relationship with God? Do we view the spiritual aspect with suspicion?

Am I personally guilty of this?

Over the next few days I will reflect on these and provide some of my own thoughts here. Feel free to join the debate.

The church meeting blues

I’m a member of a Baptist Church, which means that we are congregational in our governance. Last night we had our quarterly church members meeting.

Mostly it was dull – there were a couple of highlights, including feedback from our housegroups’ thinking about the direction for our church. But overall it was dull.

I can’t imagine that this is what Jesus intended his church to become.

My thinking was crystallised by one topic that was discussed at some length (the only topic that was discussed at all really). Without going into details – the deacons and pastor had made a decision which they were bringing to the meeting for endorsement. The rationale for the decision-making approach was the need to act speedily on this topic.

Nobody had a problem with the decision itself, but there were concerns expressed about the way the decision was made without reference to the church meeting. Those expressing their concerns were some of the more traditional members of our congregation – in fact, some of those with a long-standing Baptist background (unlike most of our members, including me).

So what? Well, this strikes me as an issue that needs to be carefully considered.

How do we equip our leadership team to make decisions, without constantly referring back to church meetings, and ensure that they remain accountable to the church for those decisions? I understand how difficult it is to serve in a leadership position in church (and other voluntary situations) – I’ve been there!

How do we deal with the concept of congregational governance as our church gets bigger and more complex?

But more fundamentally than any of these things – how do we have a conversation on these issues without people adopting defensive or antagonistic positions. I have a fair degree of sympathy with those who raised the issue, and also admire (to some extent) their courage in speaking up. I did not like some of the manner in which the concerns were raised. I was equally unimpressed by contributions on the other 'side' of the debate.

I was impressed by the graciousness and wisdom of the oldest person who spoke during the debate. I am saddened that this wasn’t reflected by the rest of us who took part.

The debate does need to continue – hopefully in a loving, listening and considerate manner.

Then at the end of the meeting the pastor announced that he’d received a message – during the meeting the son of our members had suddenly collapsed and died. May he rest in peace.

And may we learn to keep our issues in a sense of perspective.

PS - just before I published this I found a link to an article about leadership (thanks to Camel Crossing). It's not directly related to my comments above, but it provides some food for thought and given my interest in leadership, I may return to this in another post.

The church solution

Yesterday in church we watched a DVD produced by Tearfund for their Global Poverty Prayer Week (albeit it was a couple of weeks late!). The Tearfund materials are fantastic.

So to avoid being tardy, I thought I’d highlight the equally amazing resources that they have in relation to HIV/AIDS – in the lead up to World Aids Day on 1 December.

“People were suffering and nobody was caring for them.”

Take a look at the film – then think carefully about how to respond. Is the church part of the solution? Do we help or do we judge – or even worse not care?

The peril of personal pronouns

This blog is prompted by a variety of sources - partly from reading Ron Sider; partly from my thoughts about yesterday's sermon at church; partly by the Hideous one's comments on my last entry; and partly (and recurringly) by my bete noir at work.

Ignoring the last source to avoid another rant-a-long, it strikes me that evangelical churches are prone to emphasising personal salvation as opposed to tackling societal injustice etc. (This isn't the main thrust of this blog, and to avoid confusion - I know that we need to deal with both elements.)

The point is that our churches tend to use singular pronouns a lot of the time - for example, yesterday our pastor asked 'where are you being called to engage with the real world?' It's a fair enough question, but I think it's even more relevant to ask 'where are WE being called to engage with the real world?'

The song that I was moaning about yesterday would be more tolerable if it said "WE want ..."

When I was a student I recall Professor Whyte saying that he preferred credal statements to be use plural forms - "We believe ..." This served two purposes - to reinforce the communal nature of church, and also to overcome any theological difficulties with any of the statements!

Of course WE is not just a cop out. WE needs to be a statement of identification and support - it's not about shifting MY responsibility to YOU. I remain accountable, but there is great strength and witness in WE.

OK - grammar lesson over!

Songs and theology

I’ve been reading Ron Sider’s excellent “The Scandal of the Evangelical Conscience” (more of that in another entry). Almost as a passing comment, he highlights the difficulty that he has with a worship song, which he enjoys singing but has problems with some of the lyrics. I guess that most of us will have our pet hates.

And, yes, I am going to share mine with you!

Today in church we sang (well actually I didn’t) “I want to serve the purpose of God in my generation” by Mark Altrogge. The first verse is OK, as a statement of personal commitment; but for me it’s all downhill from there on. The last two verses start like this:

I want to see the kingdom of God
In my generation …

I want to see the Lord come again
In my generation …

The first problem for me is the view of the kingdom as something not yet present (more of that in another entry as well). But then, who do we think we are, to sing to God that we want the Lord to come again - if you don’t mind very much – in my generation! I’m dumfoonert!

What made it worse today is that our minister is preaching a series on “Disillusioning the Illusions” (sermon titles and series titles can wait for another rant!). Anyway, last week he was talking about the problem in our culture of “I want it my way and I want it now”. So how can we sing a worship song the following week, that starts every verse with I want, I want, I want…?

Or should we just switch off our brain when we stand up (or sit) to sing?