Must we be carried to the skies
On flowery beds of ease
While others fought to gain the prize
And sailed through stormy seas?
- Isaac Watts
So ran the hymn we sang in our congregation yesterday morning. One of those rabble-rousing-stir-the-blood kind of hymns. Certainly did the trick for me. It’s been quite a week with evangelism in Worcester (two days) Coventry (two days) an open air event in Coventry and the Goldsmiths gospel-music-drama-media event that evening.
We’ve dished out near 5000 Streetpapers (our ‘good news papers’), careered up and down streets singing and chanting, talked to people, sang to people, listened to people, loved people. It’s been great, but astonishingly tiring. The last of many conversations I had with complete strangers this weekend was with Fraser and Megan in Cov. We talked about why God doesn’t make His existence blatantly obvious (mountains with ‘I am God’ carved on them and such like heavenly graffiti); we talked about Jesus (fictional? mad? bad? God?); we talked about relationships and brotherhood. They were nice. They got me thinking. I got them thinking. I was glad to finish on such a note.
Except, I’m not really finishing. This manic week may have finished and I’ve gone back to work for a rest – but the mission rolls on. We want to plant radical church in Worcester. We want a thousand people in Christian community. We want hundreds of thousands to hear the message of God’s love.
We’re the Jesus Army – come and join us!