Jesus Army gig

Every month or two the Jesus army has a big get together. Cue colurful occasions packed with friendship, worship, prayer, drama, dance, usually some baptisms of those who've decided to follow Jesus...

Here's some photos of our recent big bash in Sheffield: the Jesus Fellowship Praise Day last Saturday:

Prickly innocence

My aunt sent me some pictures of a baby hedgehog, so I'm posting them here for my children. Very sweet...

'mJa untamed'

One of the last words our founder, Noel, spoke to us as a church before he died earlier this year was that we ought to be 'untamed'.

As a church, we've pioneered quite a few risky ventures in our time, and sometimes taken flack for it. Residential Christian community with all things in common, I passionately belive to be a wonderful vision - but I've seen it twisted to appear like control or deprivation of freedom. Being an upfront 'Jesus army' gets to the nitty-gritty of where the UK is hurting and seeks to make a difference to the poorest. But I've seen it pilloried as the 'barmy army' a hard-recruting, over-laddish (or even thuggish) approach to Christianity. Jesus Centres, providing 'friendship and help for all' have won widespread public support, but we face all the internal risks of a venture that stretches our resources, capacity - and our faith.

We've not sat still as a church; we're nothing if not activists. Even so, there's the danger, always, that we sit back on our laurels, pat ourselves on our collective back as a 'radical church', waking up one day to find ourselves washed up on the shores of irrelevancy, living in the fading light of our former glory days.

God forbid.

And so our founding leader gave the call - stay wild, keep taking risks. Once we know what we're called to, we must ride the criticism and see it through: humbly, patiently - yet resolutely. Untamed.

We want to take the challenge to heart. 'mJa untamed' has become something of a watchword among us. It feels significant, like the last word from our founding era. People talk it up, chew it over. We've even made some t-shirts displaying it.

Well - I've bought the t-shirt. Now to live the life...

Forget fishing!

Wrote this bible study recently on the last chapter of John's Gospel.

This final chapter of John is an epilogue after the formal close of the Gospel [20:30-31]. It focuses upon two key apostles in the first Church.

Peter is disgraced. He denied Jesus three times [18:15-18,25-27] and has returned to his old life: fishing. But even that no longer works for him [v.3]; he is a broken man. Jesus deliberately takes Peter back to the beginning: the miraculous catch of fish is very similar to Peter’s first encounter with Jesus [v.5-6, see Lk.5:1-11]. Then, Peter had cried out 'I am a sinful man!' Now, three years later, he is more aware of his sin than ever – but Jesus reaffirms his love for him and trust in him. Three times Jesus asks Peter the crucial question: 'Do you love Me?' Three times Peter answers, and three times Jesus recommissions him to leadership. Peter’s threefold denial is lovingly undone; he is given a new start and called again, as at the beginning: 'Follow Me' [v.19].

John is different; he followed Jesus to the Cross. He is even called 'the disciple whom Jesus loved' [v.7, 20]. Peter’s question ('Lord, what about this man?' [v. 21]) may well mean ‘Wouldn’t he be a better leader?’ But Jesus, while not denying that John will faithfully play his part, simply reaffirms His call to Peter. There are times when you must not compare yourself to others, but get on with God has called you to.

Between life and death

If variety is the spice of life, and myrrh the spice of death, good poetry seasons everything in between.

This achingly beautiful poem by R S Thomas, who I've been reading again recently, is about marriage - and more than that. It captures the sense of the rush of time, our mortality and the fragility of the present. It's very tender and makes me want to live more deliberately. (And it makes me thank God for my wife.)

A Marriage by R S Thomas

We met
under a shower
of bird-notes.
Fifty years passed,
love's moment
in a world in
servitude to time.
She was young;
I kissed with my eyes
closed and opened
them on her wrinkles.
'Come,' said death,
choosing her as his
partner for
the last dance, And she,
who in life
had done everything
with a bird's grace,
opened her bill now
for the shedding
of one sigh no
heavier than a feather.

The things we do for the cause...

Make a scene about Jesus in Trafalgar Square?

It seemed a good idea at the time... tie a balloon to each limb, dance about a bit. Should draw a crowd.

Who knows? Maybe next year I'll put on a clown outfit and pretend I'm stuck to a chair...

No, hang on...

Shucks. Did that in 07.

Dress as Elmer the Elephant and dance the can-can it is then.

Shack lack

My wife is re-reading a bestselling Christian book, The Shack. She loves it and wants to lend our copy to just about every person she can think of. ('Hi, how are you? I'm fine, would you like to borrow this book?')

I read it, too, a while back. It's moving (made the back of my eyes prickle); it's not badly written (not quite poetic, but better than formulaic). But...

...But (sorry) - I'm just not convinced. It's not just that God the Father was portrayed as motherly female for much of the novel (though I do sigh - enough people think church is just for women and children as it is - oh and by the way, the Holy Spirit was feminine, too, and Jesus was a very nice boy). No, it's not that - and I understood that they were all about removing stereotypes, even if I wish it'd been done some other way). It's not even that I was left disconcerted by a feeling that, despite the book's fairly obvious aim to the contrary, it ended up giving suspiciously pat answers to difficult questions about suffering and the nature of evil.

No, the main thing was that the book was - well, just too popular. Plaudit after plaudit adorn the back cover and fly. Everyone loves it. It makes everyone feel so wonderful, so reassured, so... like the American Dream has come true at last, and God's the main character.

I don't want to sound scornful or misanthropic. I realise I'm veering in that direction. I don't doubt that The Shack is an uplifting read and genuinely encouraged some hurting souls.

Yet, I suppose what I missed was anything of prophetic challenge. God's basic message to the protagonist who finds himself alone with the almighty for a long weekend, seemed to be - 'See! I am nice, after all!'

But wouldn't God have something to say about justice, about the plight of the poor, about his revolutionary kingdom - in fact, about some of the things he expresses again and again and again through the prophets and ultimately through Christ. Go through the Bible and highlight references to 'justice and righteousness' and your pen will have run out before you reach the end of the Old Testament.

To put it another way - God just wasn't angry enough. And, strange though it may seem, I worry about a God who isn't angry. Strikes me that a God who isn't angry isn't very good. (Nice, maybe, but that's quite a different thing.)

Okay, so maybe that wasn't what the book was about. And it's not like the main character isn't challenged by his meeting with God in the shack. He is - particularly over the issue of forgiveness (which is, I suppose, close to the heart of the book). But I was waiting for some of that heart-stopping controversy and demand that Jesus dished out continually. I was waiting for 'What is highly valued among men is detestable in God's sight' and 'Any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple'?

The Shack may be the kind of book that would take someone a good few steps along the road to faith, or overcome some of the emotional objections some feel. It's has evangelistic potential and for that I would commend it. But as a real exploration of God's heart and what he may be saying to our world today... sorry. It left me too happy and reassured to be of much use.

What we will be...

I loved this quote from the Professor himself:

"We are to be re-made. All the rabbit in us is to disappear---the worried, conscientious, ethical rabbit as well as the cowardly and sensual rabbit. We shall bleed and squeal as the handfuls of fur come out; and then, surprisingly, we shall find underneath it all a thing we have never yet imagined: a real Man, an ageless god, a son of God, strong, radiant, wise, beautiful, and drenched in joy."

- C. S. Lewis

RAW (Real and Wild) 09

Recently we held our annual youth bash, RAW. It's in its third year now. This year had quite a serious feel in comparison to previous years. We know we need to rise to the challenge put to us as a generation. Take the baton. Run with the vision.

We sang a song this year which captured something of it all. Here's the lyrics:

Our generation knows a call
To leave the world behind;
To live this vision, give our all,
To stand against the tide.
Or will we love this passing world
And slip away from God?
And cast aside the kingdom pearl
To wallow in the mud?

Oh will we –
Walk worthy of the call?
Walk worthy of the call we have received?

Will we just sink to live the same
As a world without our hope?
Dancing with demons, playing games
On Satan’s slippery slope?
Deceiving ourselves that all is well –
Our Sunday smiles in place –
Come Friday night we’re loving hell
And spit in Jesus’ face.

God help us –
Walk worthy of the call
Walk worthy of the call we have received

Don’t pass us by, oh Holy One,
Don’t let us fade away,
Don’t let our words be empty ones:
Let us live the things we say
With holiness that stings the eyes
And passion for Your cause,
We’ll run as those who see the prize
And hear the saints’ applause

We want to –
Walk worthy of the call
Walk worthy of the call we have received

One Lord, one faith, one baptism,
One God, our all in all
Dead with our Christ and with Him risen:
One all-consuming call

And we will –
Walk worthy of the call
Walk worthy of the call we have received

Says it all.

God help us...

Vow do you do?

I went to an old friend's wedding a little while back. And I was struck again bu some of the scary things people say at weddings. I don't mean the best man's speech either.

Take “till death do us part,” for instance. (Phew – I mean, for good? What if I change my mind?)

Perhaps that’s why marriage, like any commitment, is increasingly off the contemporary agenda. Just move in together. And when the feeling fades, move on apart.

People even speak of “commitment-phobia”. One pained blogger wrote: “I suffer from commitment phobia. I have been with my girlfriend for nearly six months, yet this condition is doing its best to ruin everything. As a commitment-phobe, I feel that I must run away. But commitment-phobia means that I cannot commit to running away either.”

Somewhere in our marrow we know that this is ridiculous. “Commitment-phobia” is just selfishness in disguise. (“It’s my life – mine! Hands off!”)

But do we – as followers of the God who was committed enough to give us His Son – do we model something different enough for anyone to notice?

Put bluntly – are we commitment-addicts?

We should be. Marriage is sealed by vows, and some still do take the plunge even in a commitment-phobic society. How much more ought followers of Jesus to embody costly commitment in the church of Jesus? Commitment to Him – and commitment to each other?

The Holy Spirit makes us one, unites us. Not many Christians would deny that this is meant to be the theory. But what is often missed is this: we have to follow through from this Holy-Spirit-oneness; we have to back up its reality through real commitments and kept promises and – let’s use the “v word” – vows.

“Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit” writes Paul. He’s made you one – keep it that way! How? “Through the bond of peace” (Ephesians 4:3). The bond: the promise, the pledge, the vow.

We live total loyalty to each other. Covenant to stay together always. Lay down our lives for each other.

Hang it - we need to stand before a watching world and say "We're staying with each other - for good". We don't have to dress as a meringue and put leaves in our hair. But let's make it real. Afterall, marriage only lasts "till death us do part". But brothers and sisters in Christ - it's a forever and ever thing.

It’ll stand out – as Jesus said it would: “By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

Table mat

Every Tuesday night, we have a special meal for members of our church. We call it an 'Agape' meal (agape being the Greek work for divine love that is used by the writers of the New Testament); I've written about the Agape meal before on this blog.

Recently, we've been lighting a candle on our Agape dining table. Nothing very unusual about that, perhaps - candle on a meal table - adds a bit of atmosphere. But this candle was lit for a purpose beyond just creating the right ambience. We lit it for a person; a person we love and have been praying for.

He's been coming to one of our Wednesday night cell groups for the best part of a year. Fiercely atheistic, but always up for a good debate, he got on well and became part of the furniture in the group. It was from this that some of us began to long for him to find faith in Christ, and to experience the power of His love.

And so a few weeks ago we lit the candle, deciding that we would have it on our table every Agape meal as a silent prayer for him to belong, with us, to God. He was part of the family - we longed for him to be with us at the table of Christ.

And last Sunday night - it happened. Another friend and I had an opportunity to pray with him. It was awesomely beautiful to behold. His spirit opened up, slowly, like a flower in the morning sun. Sorry if you think that's a bit over-poetic, but it was truly moving. I had tears in my eyes. As we prayed that God would reveal Himself, our friend's face - eyes closed, waiting, open - became lighter, uplifted. A peace came over him. He began to slowly lift up his hands. Faith unfurled in him. God met him.

Afterwards, he was without words to describe what had happened. (The New Testament supplies some - like being 'called' or 'regenerated' or 'born again'.) But he knew that he was changed. Fathered by God; he had become a Christian.

The candle prayer had been answered.

It was a long journey from the desert of atheism to the flowing waters of faith. First his mind was opened, through our discussions at cell group, to the fact that Christian faith was not, in fact, just irrational nonsense. It brought him a cetain agnostic openness, but couldn't bring him all the way into faith. Then, as he spent more time among the family of God, the church, he found his heart drawn to the love that we have. ('You can feel the love' - it may be a cliché, but yes, he said it.) Faith had made the two foot journey of a lifetime from his head to his heart. There remained one final leg of the journey - to his spirit. And on Sunday night, God made his spirit alive.

Next Sunday, we intend to baptise him in water to complete his beginnings as a Christian.

Thank God. Now the real journey begins. he can head for the horizon. The view is awesome. The Son is shining.

40 reasons to believe in Christianity

Every Wednesday night, my wife and I meet with some friends for a 'cell group'. (Nothing to do with prison, by the way, and everything to do with being a little unit of the body of Christ, in case you're wondering.)

Cell group is a highlight of the week and usually involves some energetic discussion (as well as coffee, chocolate and silly games).

Not everyone in the group is a Christian; this week I was responding to a challenge to come up with '40 reasons to believe in Christianity'. So I gave it a shot and we debated and explored some of them.

I ought to say here what I said to them: none of these 40 reasons to believe are trying to be knock down 'proof' of the truth of Christianity; they are pointers, hints. And a lot of them cry out for a bit of further explanation or defence. In the case of a few of them that's what we did in the cell group. What's more, they make no claim to be definitive - no doubt there are many more points could be made in defence of Christian belief. These just happen to be the ones I came up with.

So, for what it's worth, here they are. And of anyone out there wants to comment, go ahead, and I'll try and respond.

1. Because Jesus is risen from the dead and that’s the only explanation that makes sense of history.
2. Because the order and beauty of creation makes God's invisible qualities known.
3. Because human beings have a sense of morality, of right and wrong
4. Because human beings love.
5. Because Israel exists – unlike Philistines, Ishmaelites, Amonities, Kerites, Kerizzites, Hittites, Perizzites and many other nations that got going at the same sort of time.
6. Because people we know have been changed by God.
7. Because countless millions we don't know have been changed by God.
8. Because human beings instinctively worship.
9. Because the fruit of atheistic philosophies is death – witness Marxism, Nazism and consumerism to mention the three pillars of post enlightenment Europe.
10. Because when Christianity brings war and death it can be evidenced that this is a perversion of its beginning, whereas atheistic philosophies are based on dehumanising ideas.
11. Because St. Francis of Assissi, Mother Teresa, Martin Luther King and William Booth were not wrong.
12. Because an accidental universe is amoral, empty and meaningless.
13. Because God has become man and died to rescue us.
14. Because the apostles’ testimony is true.
15. Because the church has never been snuffed out.
16. Because the church, though subject to sin and drift, has revived and re-birthed countless times.
17. Because the church is a place of true love.
18. Because Christians care.
19. Because Christians can heal.
20. Because Christians forgive.
21. Because Christians speak in tongues and use spiritual gifts.
22. Because of music.
23. Because of colour.
24. Because of taste and flavours.
25. Because of the smell of flowers.
26. Because of the feel of silk, and ice, and tree bark, and stone, and fur, and water, and a lover’s skin.
27. Because God is love and those who live in love, live in God and he in them.
28. Because of the Bible – remarkable by any standards: written by writers over centuries, yet speaking the many sides of one coherent vision.
29. Because the Bible is honest and tragic, and speaks to human being as they really are.
30. Because the Bible has a happy ending – paid for by God himself.
31. Because grass seed is more remarkable than a microchip.
32. Because a brain makes a Mac look feeble.
33. Because of Abraham.
34. Because of Paul.
35. Because of the members of our cell group.
36. Because the martyrs didn't die for nothing.
37. Because Jesus didn't die for nothing.
38. Because we'd have never even of heard about Jesus dying if he wasn’t the Messiah
39. Because Jesus, as the Messiah has bourn the exile of his people, Israel – and the exile of the human race in death – through his sacrificial death. And his resurrection establishes him as Messiah, head of this people, saviour of humankind, and son of God.
40. Because Jesus is risen from the dead – and that's the only explanation that makes sense of... everything.

Musical battle in urban sunshine

Someone wrote an engaging little piece of philosophical musing in the Northampton Chronicle and Echo this week. Thought I'd paste in a link here, since it mentions the Jesus Army.

Noel Stanton

Noel Stanton, founder and former apostolic team leader of the Jesus Army, died yesterday afternoon.

Many people will want to mark his passing. For those of us who live out the vision of the Jesus Army – a vision largely initiated and propelled forward by Noel Stanton himself – it feels like the end of our founding era. Challenges lie ahead. But we’re in it together.

In this blog, as a rule, I don’t mention people by name. “Washing one’s clean linen in public” (as Oscar Wilde put it) is one thing. Even washing my own dirty linen in public seems fair enough, if odd. But to air someone else’s linen, soiled or spotless, seems wrong to me, and I’ve avoided it.

It is ironic to break my self-imposed anonymity rule today for Noel Stanton, particularly as Noel himself avoided the limelight. Indeed, it is one of the marks of his humility that today the Jesus Army is far, far better known than Noel is. That is how he wanted it. For Noel, it was all about Jesus Christ, not about Noel Stanton. We are not called “Noel Stanton ministries” but Jesus Army, or Jesus Fellowship.

But Noel’s forty years of faithful leadership deserve some celebration and here’s my small part.

Noel Stanton was an inspiring leader. He was wilful, single-minded – at times maddeningly so! – yet compassionate. He could roar at what he perceived as compromise or hypocrisy, and yet he won the hearts of many, many people through his self-evident commitment and care. Many will miss him as a father and a grandad, particularly those who lived with him in Christian Community at New Creation Farm.

Indeed, it is a mark of the integrity of Noel’s lifestyle that he lived simply in community with his brothers and sisters. His was no life of privilege. He exemplified simplicity. For all Noel’s fire and tenacity, he never sought to feather his own nest. Quite the opposite: the second-hand, iron bedstead that was his throughout his years in community says it all.

One of the things I particularly valued about Noel was his unwavering commitment to those that few others would believe in. He was determined to see some of “the worst” becoming the best that they could be. At times, my hair stood on end as I watched Noel invest trust in young people who (quite obviously in my sensible eyes) were not worthy of it. (And sometimes I was “right”: Noel was hurt more than once by those who let him down.) But, of course, in every way that mattered, it was Noel who was right all along. He was determined that a generation of youth who had been written off as “Generation X”, the “lost generation” should be believed in and championed. He took risks to see it happen.

And happen it did. Some of those young men and women are leading movers and shakers in the Jesus Army today.

This belief in those with few of the natural advantages of wealth or education was a trait he shared with another holy army’s founder. William Booth, founder of the Salvation Army, declared, “Go for souls and go for the worst.”

Noel lived a similar dream. And he would have heartily concurred with some other famous words spoken by Booth:

“While women weep, as they do now, I'll fight; while children go hungry, as they do now I'll fight; while men go to prison, in and out, in and out, as they do now, I'll fight; while there is a drunkard left, while there is a poor lost girl upon the streets, while there remains one dark soul without the light of God, I'll fight, I'll fight to the very end!”

Noel Stanton fought till the very end. Now we fight on.

And Noel – we salute you.

Root cause

Words can change their meanings. I wants to rescue this one: "radical".

“A radical preacher...” Guess the rest of the headline. “Gives all his money to the poor”? “Speaks out against hypocrisy?” No: “A radical preacher jailed for inciting terrorism” (BBC, today).

In many minds today, the word “radical” throws up images of fuming imams or plotters in Afghan caves. It’s an angry word, a violent word.

But being radical shouldn’t be about hatred and fear. A true radical is passionate for good; prepared to live for love, 100 per cent.

Radical means “from the root” (from radix, Latin for root). A true radical goes back to the roots – the most important things, the things that really matter – and lives for those things.

Jesus Christ is the best and truest radical that ever lived. He radically sided with the outcasts, welcoming them into His circle. He radically challenged the proud rich and the religious bigots. He radically called people into the new society that He was forming – people who would live to love and serve.

He still calls people today, to give up everything else and follow Him, to join His love revolution – to be true radicals.

Same old story? A preacherman's dilemma

It's my turn to speak at our monthly celebration, a lively knees-up which very often involves new Christians being baptised and lots of visitors coming along. My job: preach the gospel.

'Preach the gospel'. The phrase itself indicates something of my dilemma. It sounds, well – religious. Rather last century. Heck, it sounds rather last millennium. With the exception of the definite article, old faithful the (sorry, lapsing into churchy phraseology again there), the expression preach the gospel smells of musty religiosity...

In today’s parlance, this word is generally used to connote walloping someone over the bonce with a moralistic diatribe. ('Don’t preach at me, man!’) Then again, at least it has a use in today’s language. What about gospel? Just what does that mean, apart from being a religious word with something to do with Billy Graham?

Of course, some people know that the word gospel means ‘good news’. (For any word freaks out there, it’s from the Old English godspell – god, good, and spell, message). But knowing the etymology doesn’t really help. Because most people in the UK assume that there’s nothing very newsy about Christianity. ‘News? What news? What’s news about something that’s been public domain for two thousand years? Everyone knows what Christianity’s all about, don’t they?’

And here lies my real dilemma. Because people think they know what the Christian message is. After all, on Sunday night I probably won't stand up and say ‘Now I’m going to preach the gospel’ (cue reaching for your crash helmet and switching off because you know what’s coming). But, even stepping foot into ‘a church’, people will think they know what they’re going to get.

Not many people on the streets of the UK would say they have no idea what Christianity is all about. ‘It’s belief in God, innit?’ ‘It’s do unto others – something’. Or, more sophisticated, ‘Jesus died for us so we can be forgiven and go to heaven when we die. (Not sure quite how that works, but it’s a nice idea, so I’ll dust it off every Christmas and Easter and put it back in storage in between)’.

You might think I’m being simplistic; surely people have got more idea what Christianity is about than that. But the truth of the matter is that very often people haven’t even got that far. When I talk to people on the streets about ‘the gospel’, the standard view seems to be that Christians believe in a god that’s a bit like a cross between Zeus and Father Christmas and that he has a nice but slightly wet son called Jesus who said some nice things, but that it’s all a bit irrelevant because science has disproved it anyway. Or something like that.

Sadly, even the more sophisticated approach (‘Jesus died for me’ and so on) – usually indicating some church in the upbringing – is very often pretty limited. At its worst it will have more than a dash of something like ‘God was angry but Jesus changed his mind’. This is a development of the Zeus- Father Christmas thing: God was like Zeus, then Jesus calmed him down and now he’s like Father Christmas. (Then science disproved him.)

I have to say, I think we Christians have to shoulder some of the blame for this muddle. All too often, the Christian presentation of the gospel has been a rather two-dimensional afterlife insurance policy: ‘believe in Jesus and you’ll go to heaven when you die.’

There’s a very great problem here. If ‘the gospel’ is just about something ‘up there’ (whether Zeus mythology or ‘going to heaven’), then the gospel is automatically made irrelevant to just about everyone. Unless you’re on your deathbed or unusually introspective and morbid – forget it. (This is where atheist bus posters come in: ‘There's probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life’. Quite frankly, applied to this emaciated version of the gospel, they have a point.)

So my dilemma is not just how to find upbeat, funky language in order to ‘preach the gospel’ (i.e. the same old thing). The challenge I face is to get beyond the stereotypes that so many people assume is the message of Christianity and to actually communicate some life-arresting, stop-dead-in-your-tracks, what-was-that-you-said news.

It’s simply not just about ‘pie in the sky when you die’. Tom Wright, the bishop of Durham put it like this recently:

I don't see the [life after death] as the primary thing to talk about in evangelism. The primary thing is Jesus himself, and the vision of the loving, rescuing creator God we get when we focus on him. However, the vision of new heavens and new earth, and of God's project, already begun in Jesus, to flood the whole creation with his restorative justice, does indeed generate a powerful evangelistic message: not just 'you're sinful, here's how to escape the consequences', but 'your sinful life means you're failing to be a genuine human being, contributing to God's project of justice and beauty – here's how the project got back on track, and here's how you can be part of it, both in your own life being set right and made 'something beautiful for God' and in what you do through your life, bringing justice, hope, joy and beauty to God's world as we look forward to the final day'.

Right on, right reverend! The gospel is a call. ‘Come and be transformed and get on board an awesome project – renewing and healing a tired, sick world. Come to Jesus – he’s got a job for you to do. God’s kingdom is coming – get on board!’

So, I won’t stand up on Sunday night and say ‘Now I will vouchsafe to preach the gospel unto you’. But I will preach the gospel. And it won’t be any tired message about going to heaven when you die. It’ll be the revolutionary call we find in the pages of the New Testament. Jesus shows us God. Jesus announces God’s kingdom. Jesus dies to take away our crimes so that we can be included. Jesus rises from the dead to initiate the project. Come and join in.

Lord of the things

What does the word “fellowship” bring to mind? If you’re a Lord of the Rings fan, it probably has something to do with hobbits. And, if you’re a Christian, it may mean – er – having a cuppa after the service?

In fact, the Greek New Testament word which many bible versions translate, rather weakly, as “fellowship” has a lot more to it: koinonia. It’s about shared life, common unity or community; in fact, “everything in common.” (Imagine – “after tonight’s service, we’ll have an informal time of – everything in common”.)

Koinonia is displayed in all its glory in the early chapters of Acts: the first Christians “devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to koinonia… all the believers were together and had everything in common.” (Acts 2:42, 44)

So what were those crazy, proto-communist, apostles teaching? Well, in fact, “all that Jesus had commanded them” (Matthew 28:20). The radical sharing in Acts is the direct result of Jesus’ teaching:

“Sell everything you have… and come follow me… Truly, no-one who has left home or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields for me and for the gospel will fail to receive a hundred times as much in this present age (homes, brothers, sisters, mothers, children and fields – and with them persecutions) and in the age to come, eternal life.” (Mark 10:21, 29-30)

When someone like Barnabas threw his money at the apostles’ feet (Acts 4:36-37), personal ownership was over. But he gained “a hundred times as much”. He gained koinonia, the big spiritual family and all that it shared together (including persecutions; it’s not like the world doesn’t protest at its economy of death being so thoroughly challenged).

Jesus shared His money with His brothers (John 12:6); shouldn’t we? Jesus laid down His life for His friends (1 John 3:16-17); shouldn’t we?

Jesus taught, lived and died for koinonia. Shouldn’t we?

“This is my command: love one another as I have loved you.” (John 15:12)

In the teeth of a dilemma

From time to time I edit our Jesus Army national news sheet, Together. People send news stories about what the Jesus Army is up to up and down the country. And just occasionally some the entries are - unintentionally - hilarious.

I thought this delightfully surreal entry deserved sharing:

One of our friends could not find her false teeth and thought they may have gone into the dustbin (which had just been emptied) by mistake. She agreed to pray about it and shortly afterwards they were found in a bag of underwear.

So there you are. Perhaps this wonderfully bizarre anecdote raises more questions than it answers, but it does at least encourage the faithful to prayer.

Clichés aside, love changes everything

Last night, some of our church leaders got together for a meal and a catch-up; a chance to talk about how we felt things were going.

As we shared, it became clear that a number of us were finding life ‘uphill’. The atmosphere steadily became rather gloomy.

Picking fish bones out of my mouth, listening to shared woes, heaviness settled upon me like dust. Oh dear; it was going to be one of those evenings.

But then one brother changed everything. Very simply, but very genuinely, he just told us all how much he loves being a part of our church and community. And he loves the way that people who come among us are touched and changed. And he loves what God does in our midst. And he loves us.

He was deliberately changing the tone, but it wasn’t forced, it wasn’t false. He simply chose to express his love.

I know this brother very well. I know, in fact, that there are some things in his life that are painful, that mean he carries a secret sadness within him. But last night he bravely and beautifully expressed his love. People melted. They remembered what it was all for. If you’ll permit me to poeticize, his words were like a sudden flute melody bursting in unexpectedly into a monotonous dirge of double basses. Or so it felt to me.

Soon after he had shared, we all prayed together. What had been a rather cheerless gathering had become a joining of hearts and a mutual strengthening. I blessed my brother from my heart.

It’s true – love changes everything. It really does.

Getting the word out

As a church, we do our best to promote the message of Jesus in a contemporary, up-to-date, relevant way. We're called the modern Jesus army for that reason. Even that sounds a bit late eighties. But what else? 'The post-modern Jesus army' sounds like an email inbox. The '21st century Jesus army' sounds like sci-fi or a latter-day crusade. And resorting to the passing phraseology of youth culture has its own dangers - I suspect 'the sick Jesus army' may give the wrong impression to anyone over 30.

So, the mJa it is.

It's always a challenge – how to take a timeless message and press home its extraordinarily timely relevance to every man, woman and child – now. To find a language and a lifestyle that will truly engage our ‘today’ world, a world so used to ‘spin’. (I noted that Barack Obama’s inauguration speech this Tuesday was criticised by the media as ‘failing to soar’ just because the new US president – commendably, in my view – refused to tub-thump, but spoke of hard things like responsibility and challenge.)

How do we steer a course between empty sloganeering and dour moralising? We want to bring both the life-changing wonder and the razor-edged challenge of Jesus and His message.

Sometimes aspects of our outreach (think fluro plastic crosses) can come in for some jibing. I recently had a brief – in the end, thankfully, friendly – exchange with another Christian blogger about this very thing in fact.

We urgently want to be able to communicate with UK youth in a culture that is adrift from its Christian heritage. It comes down to demonstrating reality. Living love. Speaking truth in ‘yoof’. But it has to be beyond cliché. It has to be obviously lived.

The residential community lifestyle that some of us practice is, I hope and pray, a demonstration of this. An alternative slap bang in the middle of UK towns and cities. Because if its not, it will just become a ‘weird religious set-up’. God deliver us.

We’re by no means the only church engaging with this challenge, to say and to be the gospel in today’s UK. Along with other Christian churches and movements, the Jesus Army recently featured in a Times Online article (see p.2 for the JA) about using graffiti to communicate the gospel. Check out the pictures (image 4,5, & 6 are the JA).

There’s red crosses, Christian graffiti, colourful buses and all that jazz. There’s Christian community – people living together and flinging the doors open to all to ‘come and see’. There’s our three Jesus Centres with their work particularly focused on the disadvantaged.

But behind it all, if we’re going to reach this generation, there has to be God. The ultimate communicator. The One whose Word became flesh, lived, breathed, stopped breathing on a Roman cross, started breathing again in a borrowed tomb, and is breathing His Spirit into His church today.

Jesus, Word of God, give us the words to make you known.

Greed Creed

A friend sent me a link to a humorous but pokey little 'Creed to Greed' on the web the other day.

Thought I'd share it:
Greed Creed

On the front foot

Sometimes life in an all-out, cause-driven church can be a bit of a slog.

When it all seems uphill, it's a blessing when something happens that reminds you that, behind it all, God really is there - and we really are still living out the wild adventure that started in the pages of the New Testament.

Here's a message a friend of mine sent me a few moments ago:

Hi, check dis-out! Yesterday I did my right foot in and I was hobbling...really badly! So last night this new guy from mini-marquee campaign came to our house. We spend the evening talkin, generally getting to know one another etc. Have a small prayer time at the end. He prays for my foot... and this morning, I'm not hobbling any more :O) Praise The Lord! Just before fallin asleep, I could feel something happening with my foot and fell asleep knowing something good was happening.

So there it is. Very encouraging, and not just for my friend. It encouraged me to remember the reality of the God we're living for with everything we've got.

Proud of Coventry Jesus Centre

We have a centre in our home city of Coventry - a Jesus Centre. It aims to demonstrate the love and reality of Jesus to all sorts of people.

On Sundays it's packed morning and evening with church events including 'Solid Rock Cafe', a relaxed Christian event designed for anybody and everybody to come and experience the difference God makes.

During the week allsorts goes on - everything from 'Mums and Tots' (for - you've guessed it - mums and toddlers) to 'Live at the Well' (a late-night Christian-themed music cafe on some Fridays).

But a very special part of the life of the Jesus Centre is the Bridge, a drop-in centre offering cheap, filling breakfasts and a safe space to 'be' every morning apart from Monday. Lots and lots of people visit the Bridge (up to a hundred or so each session). Many of them are homeless or vulnerably housed.

The stories of many of those who come to the Bridge are often filled with human pathos, emotion and character. There have been some wonderful changed lives through the Jesus Centre - those who've found a new lease of life. But, all too often, there is tragedy, too. More than one of the visitors to the Bridge have died untimely deaths. It's far from easy living on the streets or in one hostel then another...

Recently, CJC held a vigil in the hall at the centre, to remember such lives and deaths and give people a chance to pay their respects - as well as to promote awareness of issues that homeless people face.

The BBC covered it in their Midlands Today news programme.

When I saw this it filled me with a sense of awe. We've carried this Jesus Centre vision as a church for a decade now. To see it in action, changing lives, making a difference - it's amazing.

Jesus is in the centre of the Jesus Centre.

More humbled

Well, it turns out that the Bible study was not, in fact, written by my afore-mentioned headstrong young brother (see previous post): he got my fellow-writer of the study to write it for him; a blag I fell for hook, line and stinker [sic].

Not that it changes anything I wrote about young men and confidence. It's just that this particular young man may, it turns out, be a better asset to our church's kingdom businesses than to our corporate understanding of the scriptures.

Humbled

I write part of our church's weekly Bible study sheet. The other day I challenged a gathering of some of our church's young leaders to make sure they read it, together with the scriptures it comments on.

The next night I got a text from one of them, a wonderfully headstrong (did someone mention the word 'arrogant'?) young man. 'If you're gonna make us read the study sheet' he texted, 'couldn't you write some better questions?'

Somewhere between amused and annoyed I texted back and invited him to write the next one.

I should have known. Back came the reply: 'All right then, send me the template.' So the challenge was on. I emailed him the template yesterday and sure enough this morning a Bible study on Isaiah 9 and 1 Thessalonians 5 arrived in my inbox.

And do you know what? It was really pretty good. How deliciously humbling. So I replied to the email saying, 'I might have known you'd take my challenge, seize it by the horns and tame it'. I intend to use what he's written as the basis for the study when it comes out in a few weeks.

I also said this to my young brother: 'Respect. (Oh, and by the way, I love your 'arrogance', it reminds me of David in 1 Samuel 17. So keep it up - God will sort out the humility side and it doesn't do for a young man to over do humility anyway...)'

I don't know what you think of that last statement; perhaps it seems heretical to you. But it seems to me that in a culture which is fairly feminized and where masculinity has become either a silly stereotype or the object of ridicule, we ought to be encouraging our young men to be more confident. Audacious. To swagger and throw their weight around a little more, and not to apologise too much. Yes - to be a bit 'arrogant' just like young David who protests in the face of his elder brethren 'Now what have I done? Can't I even speak?!' [1 Sam.17:29] and goes on to slay Goliath.

As for my young brother, I love him dearly even despite (in fact because of) his swagger. He has a great, glorious, humbling and therefore exalted future in God.

Stranger than fiction

I've just arranged for us to hire a flaming torch from Hell.

I mean it.

As part of our church's Easter Festival Weekend, we're doing a demo about different generations passing on the torch of vision to one another. So we looked into hiring a theatrical flaming torch (all health and safety ok and all that). The company we found to supply one is called Howard Eaton Lighting Limited - or H.E.L.L.

(If you don't believe me, check out the link here.)

Nice chap, Howard. I spoke to him this afternoon to arrange the hire. He didn't sound at all diabolic.

But I can't wait to tell people tonight that we're hiring a flaming torch from Hell for our Easter festival.

What's in a name?

Last Friday (7th March) my wife and I had our third child, our second son. Yesterday morning, as is our custom, we dedicated him to God in our church meeting.

As well as praying for the child (and us, his parents) and committing him to God, we have an opportunity for members of the church to speak out things that they sensed God saying about the child's future. (The "gift of prophecy" and inspired words and revelations of various kinds are an important part of our church's way of life. Paul the Apostle speaks of such gifts in the New Testament [see 1 Corinthians 12-14] and charismatic churches of many kinds practise them today.)

Here are some of the words spoken about our new son:

"A promise of God fulfilled; like Isaac, he will be dedicated to God in a special way."

"One like David who was celebrated for being Israel’s deliverer; he was raised up for a purpose by God and I felt that this boy was a bit like that – he is going to play a pivotal role in the church in the future."

"He’s going to have a ministry of reconciliation from a very young age – even as young as two; even amongst children he plays with."

"I saw your son, tall of stature, and he was standing over you and behind you as a family, holding a spear, stretched out in front of you all, pointing to the horizon and there were other people gathered with you. I believe he’s going to be a man who shows the direction, God’s direction, to others..."

"God is calling this boy to be a man who is a champion of justice; but with justice and championing justice come all sorts of temptations to compromise and that he will require the assistance of you, his brothers and sisters, as he grows up, to become that champion and to stand firm in difficult situations."

"He’ll be someone others can rely on like Peter, the rock."

Another custom we have as a church, is that quite often the name of the child will be based on the words spoken at the dedication. We found it quite difficult to come to a decision this time. Considering that the names David, Isaac, Solomon, Moses, Peter, Nathan, Matthew were explicitly mentioned and many others alluded to, our son could have ended up with more names than a Rugby union team. In fact, one brother even referred to this in what he said yesterday morning:

"He’s have 'many names'; he’s going to be one that wears many different hats and some of them are going to be quite zany and outrageous and some of them are going to be quite shocking and some of them are going to be quite offensive in some ways, but they’ll all be of God and they’ll all be good."

In the end, we didn't choose any of the names that had been explicitly mentioned, but rather the name of a biblical leader who embodied qualities many had spoken of: Samuel, the last judge of Israel, prophet, anointer of kings, given to God from birth [see 1 Samuel 1-2]; also Ben (meaning simply "son"): a promised son dedicated in a special way, a particular (though mysteriously painful) bond with his mother, a son of the church, in a particular way ‘given’. And strong: Peter- (Piers)-like, both in terms of the apostle Peter and Piers, a leader in our church who my wife and I love dearly and look up to.

So we named him Samuel Ben Piers.

May God bless you, son.

New Monasticism - fad or future?

The Church in the UK still makes the headlines occasionally. Take "GAY BISHOP RESIGNATION CATATROPHE" for instance. Then there's "CHURCH COULD SPLIT OVER WOMEN BISHOPS". Or (steady yourself) "ANGER AS VILLAGE CHURCH BELLS SILENCED". The uncomfortable truth is that most average Brits see the Church as at best quaint or - more likely - completely laughable. There is not much to resemble the Church in the book of Acts which "enjoyed the favour of all the people" or whom "no-one dared join". Today's UK Church is rarely loved and hardly ever held in awe.

It is partly in response to this withered Church that many Christian leaders are now looking back to a more muscular past to find inspiration. In the face of compromise in their day, heroes like Antony in Africa, Benedict in Europe and Aidan in Britain pursued a way of holiness and sacrifice. Theirs was the way of monasticism, a disciplined and rugged life centred on vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. These monks took the words of Jesus about "forsaking all", "renouncing marriage" and "laying down your life" at face value. As one writer put it, they "swam for their life" against the disastrous tide of worldly culture. The result was a Christianity with the integrity and the tenacity to change the face of their times.

There's a groundswell of interest in monasticism in evangelical circles in the UK. Many are looking into ancient monasticism as a blueprint of effective Christianity. There is a lot of interest in those who first brought the gospel to Britain: Celtic monks, such as Aidan. The Northumbria Community in Chatton, Northumberland, promotes a Celtic-style "new monasticism" which involves "a single-hearted seeking of God". The youth prayer movement "24/7 Prayer", with its "Boiler Rooms", is now using the monastic language of "vows" and "abbots". Even John Stott, the elder statesman of British evangelicalism, has remarked that if he were young and beginning his Christian life again, he would establish a kind of evangelical monastic order for men vowed to celibacy, poverty and peaceableness.

And the big success of the BBC's documentary The Monastery, which followed the experience of five not-very-religious men who tried living as monks for forty days, demonstrates that interest in monastic spirituality is wider than just the Christian sphere.

But is the present attention being given to monasticism really going to turn a feeble UK Church around? A lot will depend on whether its challenges are truly met. For all the talk of vows and the like, it seems horribly possible that many Christians, including leaders, will dodge the real issues and just flirt with monasticism without taking the real - and scary - steps that the early monks actually took.

There is such a danger of flowery religious waffle. One article on new monasticism in a prominent Christian website quoted a leader who had "felt the Lord" say, "I'm not looking for poverty but for a prosperity of contentment, whether someone has a lot or a little… I'm not looking for unswerving obedience to a spiritual director or to a person or to an institution, or even to a way of doing things; rather, I desire a mutuality of submission."

Can anyone really imagine wild Antony or dangerous Aidan (or, for that matter, Jesus of the Gospels) asking for a "prosperity of contentment"? And while "mutuality of submission" may be well and good, it is so vague as to lead almost inevitably back to each person doing as they please.

The article goes on to describe the city of God being planted not "on a hill, but right in the midst of the 'city of man'". Not only does this flatly contradict the words of Jesus, it also reverses the core of monasticism. Without holy, distinctive apartness what is there left of monasticism at all? Monasticism starts with the premise that the only way to save the world is to demonstrate something fundamentally different.

It gets worse. The online "blog" of one fairly prominent British "new abbot" contains reflections on the latest film he's watched and some family photos - and not very much else. You may ask: is there anything wrong with outings to the Showcase and family albums? After all, isn't that what every nice middle-class family does? But if "new monasticism" is going to bring to comfortable UK Christianity anything other than just a shallow makeover then surely its "abbots" must demonstrate something totally different to the cosy norm.

The early monks did. For them, monasticism was not a romantic dream (with the faint sound of a Hollywood film score in the background). It was tough; sometimes agonising. It meant hard decisions and sacrifice. They didn't embrace poverty, chastity and obedience because they liked them: they saw that there was no other way to impact an infected society with the drastic and vital truths of the Kingdom.

So: today in the UK? Will people abandon personal wealth and home, move in together and share their possessions, owning nothing? (The neighbours would be bound to notice, let's face it.) Will people pioneer drastic purity, some of them choosing not to marry in order to be free "for the Kingdom"? Will people commit themselves together in a permanent and binding vow of brotherhood?

The reality is that it will take more than a trendy historical fad to turn the UK to God. Christian consumers, shopping in the mall of history for packaged titbits, are not going to be enough. Only if Christians - lots of them - take some drastic steps will the Church stop being ignored.

Imagine some different headlines: "TEN THOUSAND GIVE UP CAREERS AND MOVE IN TOGETHER"… "TWENTY THOUSAND TWENTY-SOMETHINGS ABANDON MARRIAGE FOR A GREATER CAUSE"… "SEE HOW THEY LOVE ONE ANOTHER"… Now that could turn the tide.

Happy celibate martyrs day!

14th February has come to be a day for celebration of love and romance, all - rather ironically - in the name of a most likely celibate martyr of the late third century. (See here.)

So I thought I'd dedicate a post to all those celibate lovers of Jesus and His church that I know. They're an awesome bunch and add such power and strength to our church - not just the strength that comes from their freedom and availability, but also that comes from the potency of their testimony: "Jesus is worth it" they say and live and prove. Those who - like me - are called to the way of marriage and family life profit greatly from the sharpening and prophetic clarity they bring. (See here.)

"...they kept themselves pure. They follow the Lamb wherever he goes." (Revelation 14:4)

Empty vessels make the most noise

Apparently someone's come up with a screamer of an idea to solve teenage anti-social behaviour. It's a device which emits a painful high-pitched noise (inaudible to ears aged more than 25 years). The yobs just can't stand it - so they clear off. According to the BBC, "there are estimated to be 3,500 of the devices, known as the mosquito, in use across the country". (Read about it here.)

Wonderful. Let's not encourage young people to find self-worth. Let's not give them something positive to live for. Let's forget about encouraging parents in their parenting. Never mind family cohesion and positive role-modelling. After all young people are the enemy. Scream at them till they go away. Pesky kids. Come to think of it - why stop at mere sonic warfare? Tear gas! That's what they need. That'd be what I call a real creative solution.

I liked this...

God made
Adam bit
Noah arked
Abraham split
Jacob fooled
Joseph ruled
Bush talked
Pharaoh plagued
Sea divided
Tablets guided
Promise landed
Judges led
Saul freaked
David peeked
Kingdom divided
Prophets warned
People exiled
Hope rose
Jesus born
God walked
Anger crucified
Love rose
Spirit flamed
Word spread
God remained.

Got it from here.

Thoughts on two chapters of Matthew's Gospel

Chapter 26 of Matthew is certainly action-packed.

The plot against Jesus takes shape; Jesus is anointed with perfume; Judas agrees to betray Him; Jesus and His disciples eat the Passover meal; Jesus prays in Gethsemane, is arrested, and put on trial; Peter denies Jesus.

Yet behind all the human activity, are many hints of the deeper divine purpose now reaching its climax: Jesus’ death is the new, greater Passover; prophecy is being fulfilled; news of Jesus’ death and burial will spread throughout the world. His resurrection is also implied here. Jesus was anointed before His burial (verses 12 & 13): there would be no chance to anoint Him afterwards, as was customary! (See Mark 16:1).

The commotion of this chapter is followed by the comparative stillness of chapter 27.

Two figures hang from two trees: Judas and Jesus. The question Matthew’s Gospel leads us all to is this: when all our human controversies, concerns, eating, drinking, words, boasts, denials, failures, prayer and prayerlessness are done – which figure will we identify with? Will we be found to place our trust in Jesus who dies for us, or will we go our own way, a way that leads inevitably to our own death?

Delusions of grandeur

I wrote about Richard Dawkins' book, The God Delusion, in December. Having now finished it, re-read bits and thought about the whole thing, I feel there's a bit more I ought to say about it.

In particular, I must retract some of my earlier comments, now that I've finished the book. I’m referring to the comments about it being “clever”.

You see, it becomes rather less clever in its closing chapters. The first four chapters are, I freely admit, pretty clever. Dawkins presents an atheistic critique of religious “arguments for God”, largely from a scientific viewpoint. He does it with confidence and verve (though I became a little bemused when he attempts to dismiss a philosophical giant like Thomas Aquinas in three pages. There is such a thing as intellectual arrogance).

In chapter 5, Dawkins “boldly goes” into some of his more eccentric theories about where religion comes from (given that it’s all such a ridiculous error). It’s interesting enough, this pseudo-scientific-psychological perusal – but not very convincing when you get behind the rhetoric. For instance, Dawkins’ talk about “memetics”, his own pet theory of cultural evolution, treats “memes” as though they were concrete entities you could look at through a microscope (rather than the – fanciful? – hypothesis of a scientist who just happens to also be a secularist determined to explain human behaviour without getting near reference to spirituality). So, chapter 5. A good read, but a great deal less convincing even than Dawkins wants us believe poor old Thomas Aquinas was.

Chapter 6 continues along broadly the same trajectory, gustily avoiding the truly difficult question of what “morality” can possibly mean in an amoral universe that came to be by amoral chance. He avoids this question whilst addressing it, which, fair enough, is clever – but hardly satisfying.

But I’m afraid silliness really sets in come chapter 7, the chapter on the Bible. His dismissal of the Old Testament (and its God) is so obviously duff that I’d like to make it available in the flyleaf of every Bible sold as an example of how fanatical atheism takes away even the ability to read. Oh, there’s more than enough rhetoric about the bloodbaths in the Old Testament and so on. But Dawkins entirely ignores the many, many examples of God’s heart for justice, mercy, and love which come through not only in the narrative parts, but more especially in the prophets.

Then there is his entirely silly assumption that God endorses the behaviour of every character in the Old Testament simply because they’re in the Old Testament. Yes, Lot’s assumption that rape of females is less offensive than rape of males is reprehensible: and we can be sure God agrees (read the rest of the Bible, like the prophets who speak for God and Jesus who is the speech of God). It seems to me that the Bible’s unflinching honesty about the flaws (nay, the downright moral evil) of some of its characters (even its heroes) is a point in its favour. And we would do well to note a point that Paul makes in the New Testament about the Old Testament: “These things occurred as examples to keep us from setting our hearts on evil things as they did”. Moral examples go both ways. The Bible is grimly realistic about human morality.

Then there’s Dawkins’ thin and scanty critique of the New Testament. So brief and scanty that I shall be even more brief and scanty here: Dawkins mocks Jesus as a pale-faced Galilean and then condemns him for His harsher sayings. A proverb about wanting cake and eating cake springs to mind. And here ends Dawkins’ response to the single most influential collection of texts in world history.

Chapters 8 and 9 fall into a similar pit of self-contradiction: Dawkins bangs on about fanatical, unthinking, fundamentalist religion (he seems to know of no other kind, except when he posits that intelligent and sensitive theologians are not worth dealing with since they’re in such a small minority. And that’s an argument?) His solution? He recommends fanatical, unthinking, fundamentalist atheism. “Trust me, it’ll make the world a better place,” he insists.

Perhaps the biggest example of Dawkins’ flagrant inconsistency is in his recommendations for bringing up children. To sum up: “It is immoral to teach children what to believe. Let them make up their own minds. Teach them Darwinist Evolution. It is the Truth. ” I kid you not. Read it yourself – chapter 9.

So I have to retract my comments about it being a clever book. “Smart, pacy, well-written,” yes. “Full of wit and drive,” yes. “Incisive” yes, if you mean making your points in such a focused way as to leave no room for discussion. “Witty, cutting,” certainly. “Very, very clever. And it knows it.” Sorry, no. Here I recant what I wrote previously. It is not clever. It is really rather stupid, beneath the bombast. But, sadly, it doesn’t know it.

Celibacy? Oh, that's easy!

At our church end of year celebration some people made vows of celibacy. (Celibacy is a gift and lifestyle that we honour as a church. See http://www.jesus.org.uk/vault/library_hottopics09.shtml). This year, when the celibates were making their vows, two sisters behind me got into a good-natured but spirited debate about whether celibacy was easier for men or women. One was convinced it was easier for women (‘after all, men have stronger sex drives’). The other was sure it was easier for men (‘they don’t feel the sacrifice of not having children so keenly as women’). After a while of listening to their discussion, I leaned back and said: ‘Surely the whole point is that celibacy is easier for both. If you want a real challenge - get married!’

They laughed and, of course, I meant it humorously – but there’s a serious point there, isn’t there? Paul advocates the single life to spare hassle and ‘secure undivided devotion’. Jesus’ ‘eunuchs’ are able to serve in the kingdom more freely.

That’s not to minimise the real and very wonderful sacrifice that celibates make to serve Jesus. Some of my very best friends are celibate – sometimes through trials and tears – and, truly, I’m in awe of their devotion. It’s just that, to serve the king and live for His kingdom in an all-out way (such as that we try to embrace in a lifestyle of intentional Christian community) as a married person, especially with children presents real challenges which the celibate avoids (and rightly so, since this is the key New Testament raison d’etre of celibacy).

How do you balance the demands of the church and community, and individuals within it, against the need to invest rightly in one’s children and relationship with spouse? How do you ‘live as though you were not’ married (Paul’s tantalising phrase in 1 Corinthians 7) at the same time as ‘loving your wife’ (to quote Paul once more, this time from Ephesians 5)?

It can be done, certainly, but it takes wisdom, grace, forgiveness of and from each other and those around you, willingness to look stupid and have your weaknesses on show a lot (children are experts at displaying their parents’ faults!)

But it’s worth the struggle. A committed, happy marriage breeds security in others. Hurt people find refuge among families with an openness which means they can ‘join in’. Children humanise community with their disarming sincerity (when a small child spontaneously hugs you, it’s because they love you, not because they’re after something – that only comes with teenage guile!) And even the many, many imperfections that families all display – outbursts of irritation, squabbles, taking one another for granted and so on and on – are a sign of hope. God loves and redeems us precisely in all our imperfections: we’re in His family.

So putting your marriage and family at the service of the kingdom is tough, exhausting at times, demanding constantly – but always rewarding. And always worth it.