God without Jesus

Listening to John Humphrys Radio 4 conversation with the Archbishop of Canterbury a week ago (Humphrys In Search of God), I found myself frustrated.

I have a lot of respect for Rowan Williams who strikes me, on the whole, as a compassionate and thoughtful man - indeed this is how he came over in the programme.

And yet - there was Humphrys asking very pointed and heartfelt questions about how there could be a God given all the suffering in the world. Williams did his best to answer, in a philosphical way, how he could still ('just') believe in God given human suffering. BUT HE DIDN'T MENTION JESUS CHRIST ONCE! (Well, ok, he made a passing mention of Jesus not performing many miracles in his home town.) Surely, the incarnation and suffering of the Son of God are central and vital to any Christian response to the pained question of human suffering.

God has not merely sat 'up there' (behind a cloud somewhere) and let us get on with a life of pain, injustice and lostness. He sent his Son. His Son entered into the very depths of human suffering (and it's ultimate cause - human sin). On the cross, Jesus bore the brunt.

Maybe here isn't the time to explore the depths of the theological ramifications of this - but I wish Rowan Williams had done so. (To be sure, the Muslim and Jewish leaders that Humphrys is to interview will not, even if their philosophical defenses of God match those of Williams...)

God made man, God acting decisively through the death of Jesus to remove human sin and through the resurrection of Jesus to give a solid hope for humanity. Rowan! - Why oh why didn't you speak about those things?

Beat Selfishness Week!

This week is ‘Beat Selfishness Week’ at White Stone. I launched this (slightly New Labour sounding?) campaign last Saturday. The idea is that we take a week to quite deliberately focus on what it means practically to ‘lay down our lives for our brothers’, to ‘deny ourselves’ and ‘lose our lives in order to find them’, to ‘look not only to our own interests, but also to the interests of others’ (and so on and on and on – the New Testament is full of beating selfishness...)

On Saturday night, we explored a few areas of life in which we have the choice to serve our own ends or serve others. Washing up – do we leave cups about thoughtlessly or wash them lovingly? Noise – do we announce our presence with metaphorical trumpets or are we content to go unnoticed? Awareness – do we know where others are at or does our universe go no further than the end of our nose? Words – are we bitches or builders? Emotions – do we use them to justify our worst behaviour or to have compassion on others? Mess – is a room tidier or messier when we leave it?

We spent almost an hour talking these things through on Saturday. There’s been quite a bit of selfishness around our house; despite the fact that we claim to follow the Jesus, central to whom’s teaching was the command to ‘lose your life’. (It’s all too easy to sing songs decorating Him with titles and ignore what He said.)

So – down with selfishness! Long live brotherhood love! Long live the kingdom of Jesus...

I’ll let you know how it goes.

Aslan speaks...

'You come of the Lord Adam and the Lady Eve,' said Aslan. 'And that is both honour enough to erect the head of the poorest beggar, and shame enough to bow the shoulders of the greatest emperor in earth.'

- from Prince Caspian by C. S. Lewis

Granny Insightful

One day, even those of my generation (who are just starting to see the summit of the hill emerging through the mists of youth) will be old. One day we'll be gone.

And then it will be up to the generation we have discipled to do the business, to maintain the day. And in their turn, they too will age and pass on the torch. Untill the Lord comes. Here's a little picture to provide a glimpse of that future generation!..

Yes, it's Granny 'Insightful' - destined to be a torch-bearer.

Downwards promotion

Last night I was commissioned to a new level of leadership in the church. Twenty-five senior leaders gathered round me, hands were laid on me, prophetic words were spoken. It was awesome and I felt humbled and privileged and scared and full of faith. It brought to mind the commissioning of Timothy that Paul mentions in the New Testament:

Do not neglect your gift, which was given you through a prophetic message when the body of elders laid their hands on you. (1 Timothy 4:14)

This means more mopping (see the blog title and post on August 1st this year). Leadership in the Church of Jesus is about serving; about relinquishing rights not accruing them. Jesus made this clear: He Himself came to ‘serve and to give His life as a ransom for many’ - and ‘no servant is above his master’.

Last night, one apostolic leader spoke of me being like an elastic band – to be stretched! But the result of this stretching and the necessary tension this would produce in me would be that people were bound together: joined, gathered, tied, connected.

In fact, the tone of the whole evening had been along such lines, with prophetic teaching about how the pressures and strains upon our crackpot-frail humanity reveal the glory of God. In our weaknesses we are strong. In our struggles, it becomes clear to all that our strength comes from God and not from us.

I want to be a faithful servant. I want to run with perseverance the race that has been marked out for me. I want to fight the good fight of faith and hear my Master say one day, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant’.

Pray for me.

Caption competition #2

Those who know these two fine men may find this easier... but then, possibily it will be easier if you don't...

Has he finally lost it?

I'm going to a University tonight. And I'm taking an enormous teddy bear with me. Intriguing, eh?..

Prayer and prayerlessness

This morning I arrived ten minutes late for our Friday morning prayer time (my alarm went off ten minutes later than I set it for, for some bizarre reason – no, honest, it really did!)

Every Friday morning at seven, a few of us aim to get together and pray: for our disciples, for each other and for – whatever seems good. Sometimes, not many of us make it (sometimes it’s just one faithful sister, bless her soul).

Not wanting to get over-heavy about this, but perhaps this is a symptom of what someone described (rather over-heavily?) on the Jesus Army forum today as “the sin of prayerlessness”. Perhaps such a phrase is overdoing it, but the comment on the forum was well worth reading: thought-provoking stuff. (Check it out.)

I particularly liked this quote:

“Prayer occurs when you depend on God. Prayerlessness occurs when you depend on yourself.”

I know that I ought to spend more time in “deliberate” prayer. But as I've grown as a Christian and taken on increasing pastoral responsibility for others, I've found something new and rather exciting has happened in my prayer life. You could call it – “accidental” prayer. That is, as I carry people on my heart, in my mind and thoughts and love - they pop up all the time and find myself praying for them. Very often it's just a very brief, "arrow" prayer shot at God; sometimes it grows into something more and I have to go off and pace up and down and pray, or find someone to pray with.

But I realise that they come from something that's going on in my spirit at a deeper level. I'm carrying these people. They're there all the time. And occasionally they erupt, often silently or in a whispered prayer.

I think this is something approaching what the apostle meant by "unceasing prayer". This doesn't undo the call to “deliberate” prayer for certain set times and the call to pray together, agreeing in faith and so on. But it undergirds the whole thing and makes prayer a state of being rather than something to be done.

Let's keep talking about prayer! And let's keep praying.

Making disciplers [sic]

We’ve been hearing the challenge to ‘make disciplers’ recently. That is, to look ahead, to see the next wave of people coming to us who need to be shown the ropes in so many ways, and to expect our present newer disciples to be playing their part in that.

As one of our leaders pointed out last night: yes, Jesus’ commission was to ‘make disciples’ – but who did He address this command to? Those who He has already made disciples of Himself. In other words, following the example of Jesus, we ought to make disciples who we can then teach to be disciplers of others.

(Oh, and by the way, hope you like the ‘sic’ in the title. I didn’t want anyone to think the ‘r’ was just a typo and thus miss the entire point of the post. There are various theories about what exactly ‘sic’ means: sometimes it is thought to be an abbreviation of ‘spelling is correct’, ‘same in copy‘, ‘spelled incorrectly’, ‘spelling incompetent’, ‘said in context’, ‘stupid in context’, ‘stand incorrect’, or ‘spelling intentionally changed’. But I’m afraid the correct meaning is also the most boring – ‘sic’ is Latin for ‘just so’. So – we’re going to make disciplers – yes, that’s right: disciplers - just so.)

Please yourself?

People are all different aren’t they? It’s one of the things that make living in community so fascinating, unpredictable, mind-bogglingly difficult, and wonderful.

Take last night.

We had a great time, on the whole. Some loved the strawberries... but others, I sensed, were worried about gluttonous tendencies surfacing in the household. Some loved it when we spoke words of encouragement to each other... but others hid their faces and found it all a bit much. Some loved the film about Earth... others found it all a bit over their head.

It has been said: ‘You can please some of the people all of the time, or all of the people some of the time, but you can’t please all of the people all of the time.’

I’m glad that last night all of the people were pleased... some of the time.

And as we all grow towards maturity, we will find that our preoccupation is not whether or not we are pleased – but whether or not our brother is. That is love.

Privileged

Tonight is our ‘House Family’ night. Those who live at White Stone get together for an evening of – well... being together.

The point is that, even though we live in community together, quality time can be eclipsed by the never-ending roundelay of busyness. So every so often, we carve out an evening to redress the balance; have a long, drawn-out, unrushed meal together; enjoy one another; ‘be’.

Last time, we gave interesting and meaningful present to each other (see July 11).

Tonight, after dinner, we’re going to settle back in our armchairs and watch a film called ‘The Privileged Planet’. It’s a documentary (with some seriously breathtaking space photography) about Earth: in particular, some of the astonishing, little-known ways in which it is precisely attuned to support life such as homo sapiens. Tiny changes in Earth’s distance from the Sun, or position in the Milky Way, or size of moon, and so on (and on and on) would make Earth an uninhabitable desert or a frozen rock.

Bravo God, I say. (The film doesn’t go quite that far, though God is mentioned towards the end.)

Should be inspiring. And relaxing. And after that, there’s that other great communal act of togetherness – the washing-up.

He breaks the power of cancelled sin

Wondering through London last Thursday, I pondered purity of heart.

Sitting in Green Park, I began to read some of a sermon by John Wesley on the text ‘Blessed are the pure in heart for they will see God’. (Then a bloke came along and told me it would cost a pound to sit there, so I moved on to a less privatised seat and continued.) Bits of it made me pray out loud to God. Bits like:

And "blessed are" they who are thus "pure in heart; for they shall see God." He will "manifest himself unto them," not only "as he doth not unto the world," but as he doth not always to his own children. He will bless them with the clearest communications of his Spirit, the most intimate "fellowship with the Father and with the Son." He will cause his presence to go continually before them, and the light of his countenance to shine upon them. It is the ceaseless prayer of their heart, "I beseech thee, show me thy glory."

Surely, purity of heart has got to be the most awesomely desirable thing that there can possibly be.

Later, in Regents Park (God is often to be found there, I’ve found) I thought about sin and how it still tangles around my heart – my thoughts and words and actions. I read a bit more Wesley in which he argued (fairly inescapably) that it was possible and should be expected that a Christian should have not just forgiveness, but power over sin.

It may sound over-dramatic (but I’ll risk it) – I felt like I was peering over the edge of damnation. ‘I write this to you so that you will not sin’ wrote the Apostle John (so it has to be a possibility...) I gasped out for God to have mercy on me and heard the Holy Spirit say, ‘Read the next verse’. I looked it up and it said, ‘But if anybody does sin, we have one who speaks to the Father in our defence— Jesus Christ, the Righteous One.’ And it may sound over-dramatic a second time (but I’ll risk it a second time) – I felt like I’d been saved all over again. And purity seemed a possibility - because when you're forgiven much, you love much.

He breaks the power of cancelled sin,
He sets the prisoner free;
His blood can make the foulest clean;
His blood availed for me.
- Charles Wesley

Four Fathers

Tonight I’m going to London. The reason I’m going to London is to spend some time with two of my fathers. I’ve actually got four fathers. And my father died five years ago.

Sorry for my riddling. On Thursday I’m going to spend the day walking in Regents Park, praying and listening to God – that’s father number one. I’m staying with my father-in-law – that’s father number two – and on Friday we’re going for a walk together in Epping Forest. Father number three is my pastor in Coventry – a spiritual dad. And father number four is Dad – who died in 2001.

This year I’ve been reflecting a lot on fathers: reading, pondering, thinking through the implications for my own life – and, of course, I’ve been being a dad to my own daughter and son.

There’s a lot to consider. A lot of the thoughts I’ve arrived at are really rather obvious – but that doesn’t mean they’re not overlooked.

Like: sons need their dads. They need them to teach them how to be a man. Not a woman, not a mouse, nor an ogre – a man. With all the strength and compassion that being a man ought to involve. But fathers are often absent (physically or emotionally), sometimes very imperfect, never perfect. So men everywhere grow up with what some writers call ‘the father-wound’ – the result of an ultimately unfulfilled longing for a true father-son bond.

Sometimes the father-wound results in feminisation; sometimes in aggression (the number of ‘bad’ fathers who were badly fathered...); sometimes in homosexuality; sometimes in heterosexual promiscuity; but probably most often in an ill-defined but deep-seated general insecurity.

The answer? Well, it can’t be a pat answer, but the answer is Father God. It is in relationship with Father God that men begin to find healing form the father-wound. And in relationship with Elder Brother Jesus (and His Spirit who teaches us to call God ‘Abba Father’) that they learn how to be a true son.

Yet it goes wider than that. Fathered by God, men come to know their need of real relationships with other men. Not beery joviality. Not going fishing and sitting in gloomy (but at least male) silence. But brotherhood. And with brotherhood comes fatherhood – men, in the church of Jesus are fathered by one another. It starts with knowing God as Father (and Jesus insists we must replace Him in that role with no man – Matthew 23:9) but it grows from this to (usually older) men in the church fathering other (usually younger) ones. And so Paul called Timothy his ‘dear son’ and John writes to ‘fathers’ and the ‘young men’ they father in his letter.

I had a relationship with my Dad which was full of longing which was rarely (not never) fulfilled. He found it difficult to connect emotionally largely because of a difficult relationship with his dad. When I came to know Father God, aged 16, He began to meet my need for fathering.

But, as I reflect on those early years as a Christian, I realise that I saw God as a mother. Oh, I sang songs about ‘Father God’ – but He was warm, He put His arms around me... He rocked me to sleep and called me diddums – well, not quite, but it was certainly in primarily maternal terms that I saw God.

And not surprising. I always had a secure, loving relationship with Mum. She was a great mum – I owe her more than can be expressed. But she wasn’t a dad. And because Dad was never quite able to call me away from the maternal into the male, I’d got stuck.

What changed things? God led me to other men in His church. Men like my spiritual dad in Coventry. And, later, my Christian father-in-law. I joined a church with a strong emphasis on brotherhood. God started to show me what a man of God looked like.

It was terrifying at times. I remember one particularly vivid experience. I’d been thinking about John the Baptist and I suddenly realised I was scared witless by him. This wild, shouting, unpredictable, hairy man. Nothing maternal about him. I got beyond the cardboard-cut-out Bible character and suddenly realised the kind of men God hung out with! And the Spirit showed me that it is through John the Baptist, through the ‘wild man’, that I ‘behold the Lamb of God’ – Jesus.

I started to make friends with masculinity and not to be afraid of it. I’m still very much on that journey. And God, and my fathers – and my brothers and my son – are helping me get there.

(Daughters need their dads too – and dads their daughters... but I’ll save that for another post...)

In the - right? - job

I went to the doc this morning. He said it's a good job I'm not a trapeze artist. I thought it was a good job he wasn't a comedian.

Good servants, poor masters

A dear friend and spiritual mentor once described emotions to me as ‘good servants but poor masters’.

I’ve often reflected on this. Without emotions life would be monochrome, inhuman – dead. Yet, if we’re ruled entirely by our emotions then the result is instability, unfaithfulness and ultimately chaos.

I shared this nugget of truth last night at my ‘Elisha band’ (an occasional get-together between pastors and their flock which happen every eight or nine weeks in our church calendar). The band went well, on the whole, and I was left afterwards with a warm fuzzy feeling of something like success.

But it was a warm, fuzzy feeling that sat on top of a cold, sharp feeling. Why? Well... not every pastoral relationship brings unqualified joy. Sometimes (often?) it’s more about heartache, conflict, uncertainty and desperate longing.

So I was left last night – and this morning – with this strange hot-and-cold inner cocktail. I want my human feelings to make me tenderer, more passionate, more open to Jesus, more humble and able to listen. I don’t want them to bully me into extremes and insanity.

I know I need others to keep me on track.

As a Christian leader, every moment of delight is bordered with sadness; every moment of despair is lit softly by joy.

Till we see Him – face to face.

Sneak preview

I write half of the Church's weekly bible study sheet. But I'm not blowing my own trumpet when I say that there's a great quote on next week's sheet - it's on the half that my brother writes!

Anyway, here it is (hope you like it):

‘The bible without the Spirit is like a sundial by moonlight’ - D.L. Moody

Good, eh? Let's ensure we know the author. Then we'll understand His book.

Bridge over trouble

Someone asked me this morning if worked as an evangelist. I think they had a rather fixed idea of what that meant (for him it was preaching on the streets of the capital if it was anything at all). But my reply was that I was an evangelist - in more ways than one.

First there's the fact that I bring the gospel to those who come to White Stone. Then there's the fact that I'm often involved in taking the gospel out into Coventry and other places... But the particular kind of evangelism that I was thinking of was my editing and writing for the Streetpaper - the evangelistic newspaper of the Jesus Army.

I wrote this for Streetpaper today. Hope you like it.

BRIDGE OVER TROUBLE

We can't reach God, however hard we try - and some religions and philosophies have tried very hard over the years.

No, the journey's going to have to be the other way round. He's going to have to come to us.

So He did. He came down. God became a man - and the name of that man is Jesus. "In the beginning was the one who is called the Word. The Word was with God and was truly God... The Word became a human being and lived here with us" (John 1:1, 14, The Bible).

And that is the enormous difference between faith in Jesus and "religion" (whatever the brand). Religions start by telling us what to do. The Christian message starts with what God has already done.

Why did Jesus live and die and rise again? In dying for us and rising again, He bridged the gap over death into life that never ends.

This means we have been given an incredible offer. This is how Jesus described it: "Everyone who has faith in me will live, even if they die. And everyone who lives because of faith in me will never really die." (John 11:25-26, The Bible)

Are you going to take Him up on it?

Happy Agape

Agape last night, our covenant meal with bread and wine. It was a special one for us, as one brother made a covenant commitment. This is a special moment in our church life where a person commits themselves to belonging to the core of the church household. It’s a serious commitment and we were humbled (and overjoyed) to receive him.

And yet...

...Last night finished with most of us doubled up helpless with laughter. The brother who was leading had decided that we would share the cup a little differently: approaching and sharing the cup as many times as you want with different people (usually we just pass the cup round the circle).

This necessitated a bigger cup. Ever resourceful, our brother had fetched just the thing – a cut glass vase.

We had a very lovely time of reconciliation and mutual expression of covenant, but steadily the absurdity of drinking from what was patently a vase got the better of some of the less self-controlled of us (I confess, I was one – well, I was tired...) The giggles ensued. Followed by the chuckles. Hands were clasped over lips, fists stuffed in mouths.

But by the time our brother was reading to us (a very un-comical scripture from 2 Peter), we were helpless. And so was he. So we laughed, hooted and guffawed till we ached.

I don’t think Peter minded. I think the Spirit was in it. By the end of Agape we were relaxed, restored and ready to fight on together another day.

Dizzy, my head is spinning

...Well, slowly turning anyway, but it’s enough to make me feel pretty sick at times. For those who don’t know, I was diagnosed a couple of years ago with Menieres disease in my right ear – an inner ear condition causing progressive deafness, tinnitus and bouts of dizziness and nausea.

(http://www.menieres.co.uk/about_md_how_it_affects_you.html)

Not pleasant and just recently it seems to have got a lot worse. I feel unsteady most of the time, to a lesser or greater degree.

But I fight on – and there are victories.

This weekend was Winning Weekend – an annual August Bank Holiday knees up for all the Jesus Army and others who may come along. There was a lot of power about – healings, deliverance and the like: it was great. And I made it to every meeting (including contributing to some of them) and wasn’t pole-axed by any vertigo episodes. Hallelujah. I also got some prayer and although I can’t say there’s been any discernable physical difference, I’ve got faith that Jesus will heal me in His time and a determination to get on with life in as much of a ‘normal’ way as possible in the mean time.

One of my closest friends was healed recently of a glandular condition that the medics said would necessitate lifelong medication. Another friend anointed him with oil every day for several months – and he was healed (blood tests et cetera to prove it!) But I note well that it wasn’t a case of a quick incantation and hands waved over his head and – bang – instant healing. We’re into faith, not magic. And faith is something we gain through relationship with God and perseverance.

So I’m trusting God and asking Him for grace for today (and preferably no dizzy spells!) You can pray for me if you like. I’ll let you know when I’m healed.

A time to plant...

Tomorrow evening will be the second time we divide our Saturday evening meeting into two. We’ve been aiming towards this all year, with a regular campaign to have twenty-four or more people come along (this means twelve or so – a decent number for a household meeting –in each half, should we spilt).

The aim is that early next year, we will officially make two households out of the present one and they’ll develop increasingly distinct identities as time goes on. (We call this a 'div plant': by dividing, a new church unit is begun. It's the biological cell principle.) In the longer term, one of the two will become the basis for a church planting into a new area – we’ve begun to set our sights on Worcester.

Before these long range visions though, we have the closer-to-home challenge of being in a meeting of twelve or thirteen rather than twenty-four or twenty-five. Result? Everyone has to give more, less room to ‘hide’, more chance to get closer to other people, more chance for our newer disciples to grow into active contribution.

So roll on tomorrow evening and roll on the future. ‘The world is our parish....’

No flowery beds

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!

The way

'You thought, as a boy, that a mage is one who can do anything. So I thought once. So did we all. And the truth is that that as a man’s real power grows and his knowledge widens, ever the way he can follow grows narrower until at last he chooses nothing, but does only and wholly what he must do.'

- Master Summoner, in A Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula Le Guin.

Creativity

We’ve got our ‘Goldsmiths’ event coming up next week, in which we use drama and music and so on to present the gospel. As a result, I was flicking through a book of Christian dramatic ‘sketches’ this morning on the way to work.

I work in our church’s ‘Creative Department’. Sounds exciting, wouldn’t you say?

In fact, it’s only really just getting going and no-one seems to be quite sure exactly what the shape of its future will be. What we are sure of is that we want to be able to harness Spirit-inspired creativity and use it to communicate the message of the gospel of the kingdom.

That will involve writing, graphics, ICT and internet, video, music, photography... and as time goes on could well embrace new ventures in more expressive arts – the dramatic and the like.

These days much of my creativity at work goes into writing and editing. But drama is close to my heart (teaching it to teenagers for seven years gets it into your bloodstream...) It’s a funny thing about drama though. It can be regarded with a certain suspicion in Christian circles – and not without reason. Jesus reserved His most searing criticism for hypocrites (which literally means mask-wearers – actors!) And there are ever-present dangers of ‘art’ that vaunts the ego and leads to unreality. Such concerns shouldn’t be lightly dismissed...

And yet, and yet... when you’ve experienced the spine-tingling, breath-holding, tear-jerking, imagination-capturing power of live performance... and when you consider the inherent drama of some of Jesus’ stories and the prophets' demos... I can’t get away from the conviction that, used rightly, performance art has its place in communicating God. But we can't be glib - because of their power arts - drama, music, even graphic or fine arts - need to be used with care, in the fear of God.

And the Creative Department? Watch this space.

Mop blog

A new month and a new name for my blog!

It was pointed out to me – and I take the point entirely – that ‘Captain’s Blog’ implied a kind of leadership which isn’t actually very Christian.

‘You've observed how godless rulers throw their weight around and when people get a little power how quickly it goes to their heads. It's not going to be that way with you. Whoever wants to be great must become a servant. Whoever wants to be first among you must be your slave. That is what the Son of Man has done: He came to serve, not to be served...’ – Jesus, Mark 10, The Message

Years ago someone in our church described true Christlike leadership as ‘the man with the mop’. Someone who serves humbly, often unnoticed.

And, as it happens, God’s been teaching me about this very thing: what it means to be like the ‘good shepherd who lays down his life for the sheep’.

So it’s about time for the change.

Running from safety

Cool (true) story from last night’s gospel meeting:

Recently a man reported his car as stolen.

Nothing wildly unusual about that and usually police would do little with it apart from register the details and other formalities.

Nevertheless, on this occasion, police mounted an acute and widespread search for the vehicle and its thief, alerting other stations, posting details, deploying officers to join the search from several different forces. Of course, the car thief did everything possible to avoid detection!

Why such unusual effort to find this stolen car and its robber? The car was not unusual – just an ordinary VW; the car contained nothing of any great value and it didn’t belong to anyone famous or unusually influential – just an ordinary man.

However, this ordinary man had left something in the car: a packet of biscuits. The biscuits were laced with poison, specially prepared by the man to kill some rats that had infested his house.

He was very concerned that the thief may eat the biscuits and die. The police shared his concern – and that was why such an unusual search was mounted. Unknown to the guilty party who was trying so hard to avoid detection, his pursuers were actually trying to save him.

Sound familiar?

(Thanks to ‘Killer’...)

That's just silly!

Shhh. Don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret.

Tonight I’m doing something silly. But it’s worthwhile. My brother, who lives in Liverpool, graduated with a master’s degree in Social Work this week and my Mum mentioned that they were going out for a family celebratory meal tonight.

Of course, I’m not expected. I mean – they’re in Liverpool and I’m in Coventry. And tomorrow is our Annual Church Convocation (big busy meeting in Northampton all day). Liverpool and back in one evening is 3½ hours driving. It would be silly.

But I’m going to do it. As one of my closest friends put it, ‘It may be silly; but that doesn’t necessarily make it stupid’.

It’s all planned with my fellow-conspirator mother: I turn up outside the restaurant, phone my brother, congratulate him, ask him what he’s doing to celebrate. As he answers, I say ‘What a coincidence, I’m there too’, as I arrive at the table in the restaurant! Poetry!

It’s done me good to have an opportunity to demonstrate my love for my brother. Being a busy Christian leader means I rarely get a chance, at least in such a demonstrative way. And that’s fine – Jesus said plenty about how true commitment to Him would cut across natural ties.

But I’m relishing this opportunity just to say (in the actions that speak louder than words), ‘I’m really proud of you – and I love you’.

(As for tomorrow: I’ve made a mental note not to be tired and irritable and certainly not to let my wife pay for my northward jaunt! God’s grace is sufficient...)

Friendship

Friendship meal at White Stone tonight. So, in honour of the event, here's a poem by a very dear friend of mine called - Friendship.

Give me your friendship.
Not an over the newspaper
Back in a minute
what was that you said
nod of the headship.

Not a see you later
alligator, maybe tomorrow
hang on a mo
just wait a tickship.

Not a sure, but
just for a short while
polite as you like,
love you and leave you
shake of the handship.
Wish you were deadship.
Do in your headship.

I want straight as a die
don't like you but love you
right between the eyes
tell me no lies
you look a real stateship.

I want sharing a room
here when you need me
are you coming back soon
over the moon!
You're making us lateship!

Give me sworn to be
true. Devoted to you.
Truly, madly, deeply:
Over the topship.
In a tight spotship.
Tying the knotship.
Until we both dropship.
I love you a lotship.

New generation

We were praying last night. Two things stood out for me.

Firstly, encouragement: we have a church. Many of our disciples are in a mess of one kind or another, but most of them are travelling towards God in their journey, rather than away from Him.

(Someone pointed out to me recently that the direction is really the most important thing. You can be a core member of the church and a mature Christian and be moving away from God; you can be a newborn disciple without much of a clue about your faith and be moving towards Him.)

The second thing was sobering: we desperately need a new generation of leaders. Peers of the younger disciples, but truly embracing the kingdom and, well, leading.

Tonight I’m meeting a nineteen year old lad who I’ve got a lot of time for, a lot of respect for. He’s a Christian. He’s wondering what to do with his life.

Could he be one of these leaders? And how, oh how, oh how do I meet him and listen to him and be with him without bringing an agenda to it all? (Falling on my knees and sobbing ‘Oh pleeease join us, we neeed young leaders’ may be rather unseemly in public – and then there’s the more subtle dangers of manipulation or understated coercion.)

So maybe I’ll just chill out and enjoy his company.

Bottled water - while stocks last

In London for a couple of days and struck again by the enormity of the place. It's like fifty cities in one. A million people in Westminster alone. Just about every ethnic group I can imagine. Vertiginous wealth and profound poverty within spitting distance of each other...

Yesterday, in the baking sun, Oxford Street was a mass of hot humanity scurrying from shrine to shrine in the devotions and oblations of the religion of the West, Materialism (which could be said to be the fastest growing religion in the world - neck and neck with its Middle Eastern chief rival, Islam).

But what satisfaction is there in this frantic faith? Beyond the golden arches, there are only dying rainforests and CocaCola is certainly not the real thing.

‘People, people everywhere and not a drop to drink’ (Adulterated Coleridge…)

‘Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.’ (Unadulterated Jesus)

Gender defender

One of the things about this life in community is that we’re freed up from some of the mundane everyday activities which necessarily loom large in most people’s lives.

Take shopping for instance. Yesterday evening, my wife and I went shopping. Which, for us, is unheard of and kinda, well, weird.

(For the uninformed, let me explain. Almost all of our weekly necessities are ordered and supplied by our community ‘FDC’ – Food Distribution Centre – which supplies not only food but household goods, toiletries and so on. Even clothes can be bought from the FDC though sometimes they will advise that something ought to be ‘bought out’ if they haven’t got it. So, the hassle of the weekly shop; dangers of endless consumer ‘choice’, dragging us out of simplicity; the likelihood of inequality – all are overturned by the genius of the FDC.)

But last night we needed a couple of clothing items that the FDC couldn’t supply, so after dinner we headed off to a local cluster of stores for some late night garment hunting.

Now, it may be a cliché that women love shopping and men hate it, but I have to say that my wife was curiously excited about the whole idea (‘wow, we’re going shopping together’ – I was appreciating the ‘together’ bit, but ambivalent about the ‘shopping’...) Anyway, my wife got herself a pair of bright summery trousers (in which, I’m bound to say, she looked lovely) and I failed to get anything. The sandals I’d seen in the shop a couple of days ago had gone and there were no others like them, and the pair of trousers I looked at were too thick and... oh, FDC where art thou?

The funny thing was (as I reflect on the difference between the sexes) on the way home there was a programme on Radio 4 in which a panel were debating gender roles. Apparently, breakthroughs in genetic science mean that it may well be possible fairly soon for women to have babies without men being part of the process at all! The ensuing debate turned on whether men serve any useful purpose (now that the provision of sperm appears to be unnecessary) particularly in the family, but, by implication, in any sphere at all.

One strident feminist appeared to take the line that the huwoman race would be better off without men altogether (after all, all they ever do is have wars, oppress the weak and beat women). She reluctantly conceded that some women may chose to have a man in their life (like a pet Chiwawa, it seems) though she quite obviously found such a preference baffling. Pressed on the point, she allowed men to continue to exist as long as they became more like women.

They had a Christian bloke on (unfortunately he was male so unlikely to get anywhere with our feminist friend) who tried to point out that fathers bring certain essential things to their children (sons and daughters) beyond their mere existence and that there were reasons why God had designed the human race male and female and families to include a father and mother. But his piercing common sense and insight were largely ignored.

So what d’ya think? Any point to men? Or are we – or should I say you, female readers – better off without them – er, us?.. oh, you get the point!

Now, I need to ring the FDC about a pair of trousers...

Agape

At last night’s Agape meal, we were invited to spend half an hour ‘together in solitude’ listening to what we sensed God was saying to us as a household. We shared our inklings over our meal and what emerged was a rich cord of truths which bound us together.

God is purifying us, making us foundational, cutting us with the exquisite sharpness of Zion’s jewels, calling us to call a wild variety of people to quality and to see beauty in others even when their flesh obscures it; calling us not to administer death but to know Him, to rise on eagle’s wings and be free.

It’s a privilege to be part of White Stone.

I found not one in all that company whom I did not love and by whom I was not confident that I was loved. I was filled with a joy so great that it surpassed all the delights of this world. For I felt as though my spirit was transfused into all of them and that the affection of all had passed over into me, so that I said with the prophet: ‘Behold how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell together in unity'.

- Aelred of Rievaulx, eleventh-century Cistercian

And now to live the life...

Land meets sea

Look: we’re going here tomorrow. Ah, the coast, the sea, the hills, the cliffs, the sun, the breeze, the cry of gulls, salt on the air, green, white, grey, brown, golden.

Can’t wait.

Face the music and dance

Okay, confession time. I’ve been in a bit of a state over the last few days and it seemed to be getting worse. By the end of Agape last night, I was ready to quit my job and resign as household leader.

I was rescued somewhat from this grim state of mind by a timely word from my ‘Supernatural’ brother, a passing comment from a sister that sometimes the best thing to do is ‘go to bed’ (I did, shortly afterwards) and a short conversation with the same brother about one of my favourite stories, which he’s reading at present (A Wizard of Earthsea: it’s a corker – like a lot of wonderful, wonderful tales it’s ostensibly for children...)

Why am I like this? And should I be going public? (What will it do to morale? Shouldn’t a leader always be on tippity-top?)

Well, on the basis that honesty is a good thing, I’m being honest. And as for the reasons for my low ebb? Well, a combination of things, each one not worthy of too much angst, but put together... uncertainty as to my role in the congregation and church (prophet? pastor? liability?), a tricky relationship that’s trickily enough been a bit tricky recently, a fairly long fast with no discernable result apart from hunger and feeling depressed, no time for things that are important at home, too much time for things that seem relatively unimportant at work, words that were said to me that have made me lose my confidence, and sins of the heart and of the mind.

Any advice, dear reader? Pull myself together? Beat myself until morale improves? Get out in the wild outdoors? (As luck would have it, we are going to the Welsh coast on Saturday for a household jaunt, which I think will be a tonic).

Or I could just dance – that usually does the trick: makes others laugh too...

Angels and dragon fruits

Last night the ‘house family’ – those who live at White Stone – had the evening in, to spend deliberate time together and ‘be’ – and to bless each other in a purposeful way.

After a long drawn-out meal (table bedecked with candles, flowers and all) and a celebratory fifteenth birthday sing-song for one young sister who is staying with us this week, we got together in our lounge and exchanged presents: one for each person. (Every one had drawn names of others in the house family out of a hat a few days before.) The rules: no-one must spend more than £2 and the gift should be accompanied with a prayerful encouragement, word or wisdom for the person (which may or may not be connected in some way with the present itself).

A marvellously eccentric, thoughtful and imaginative collection of gifts were unwrapped over the next hour – chocolate-covered bananas, a flowers photo-cube, a box of beautiful pebbles, a key-ring wrapped in a parchment message, dragon fruits (what fruits? I’d never heard of these fascinating red, exotic-looking things) and so on…

‘It’s just like Christmas,’ piped one excited sister, gleefully – a somewhat politically incorrect remark since, as a church, we take a pretty dim view of that particular festive frenzy of materialism (with its dubious claims to have something to do with Jesus). But we knew what she meant and she was right. Somehow, yesterday evening managed to capture everything that a celebration of family should: intimacy, generosity, humour, good grace, peace, tenderness, eccentricity and love.

Later this week, the doors will fly open and our wild and wonderful crew will return to fill the house with noise and life. We’ll be glad to see them all. But it’s because of times like last night that we have the strength and the inner substance to make White Stone a worthwhile place for them to come at all…

Post Script blues

I spent today editing Together. (For anyone who doesn't know Together is our national church news bulletin, a six page jobby...) I don't usually do it, but the normal editor was away today. It's usually fun(ish) doing Together: a bit creative, a bit technical, and you get to hear all the news from around the church - first!

But today, come 5 o'clock, I find myself suffering from numb bum and brain inertia. Why? - ask the computer. Go on, ask the pesky thing! Yes, it's all the blithering machine's fault. When I came towards the end of the editing process and wanted to export a page of the bulletin to a PDF file, the computer decided it didn't want to let me do that. So it spat up a helpful window onto my screen with some computernese gibberish about the PostScript output having failed (the post what? Does that have anything to do with the Royal Mail?) Anyway, after having got the ICT chap in (he had no idea), I then got my boss (who has a brain a bit like a computer, so I thought he might be able to help...)

So, what was the problem, I hear you ask? Are you ready?

Commas.

I'd put commas in the filename of the document.

And the computer, poor, sensitive thing didn't like them. So it refused to do anything with the document.

Now, I have to admit, I'm not keen on the overuse of commas myself (I was an English teacher for seven years, so I know what 'comma-itus' is - that strange disease in writing which kills all other punctuation marks replacing them with an outbreak of commas so virulant that the piece of writing ends up being one extraordinarily long sentence...)

But, to refuse to do anything, just because of some - perfectly reasonable, I thought - comma usage in the filename? That's just the sulks, pure and simple.

Anyway, incredulous with disbelief, I changed the filename, used some full stop instead and - as if by magic - little diddums poor old abused computer worked a treat.

I have a friend - an expert in computers as it happens - who tells me that computers are female. I'll leave you with that thought.

I'm off to eat some coffee...

Celtic knot work and cotton wool beards

Last night at White Stone, we broke all records for packing people into our main lounge - there were about sixty people there (well, my wife counted fifty-five at one point, but a few people arrived after that). What's more, we did it on the hottest day of the year so far! Windows open, fans on...

The reason for the crowd was that last night we held a 'Community Vision' evening. We put on such events two or three times a year with the aim of exploring and promoting Christian community as an excellent way of following Jesus in the 21st century. Last night, we took a lightening tour through the history of Christian communities (well, I say 'lightening' - the whole thing took about an hour and a quarter: there was a lot to cover!) Then, after a break, we watched a video extract about New Creation Christian Community (i.e. our own!), a brother told his fairly remarkable story of how God called him to belong to our community, and we had some Q & A with a specially chosen ‘panel’.

Highlights for me: seeing two dear brothers ludicrously dressed up in dressing gowns and wigs (plus cotton wool beards) acting out an ancient and quirky story of two Desert Fathers who decide to have a quarrel and find they can’t; watching a slideshow about the Bruderhof (including two Bruderhof women playing hide and seek in their large kitchen pots!); everyone singing a song in harmony; and perhaps most memorably of all, everyone colouring in a small piece of Celtic ‘knot work’ design which was then displayed in full splendour on our dining room wall in a display of the words ‘Community, Unity, Eternity’.

For me, that last one really spoke louder than words about what community is truly about: everyone contributing their small but unique part to something that – when it’s all put together – is far more striking and beautiful than isolated individuals could ever achieve.

Flower power

Last night, we got into yet another discussion about whether it's okay for men to like flowers. Seems to be a perennial issue in our household. It all started several months ago when I made a passing comment that I thought it was unfair that flowers are given to women and not to men. Why shouldn’t men appreciate exquisite beauty that God has made? (In fact, it’s just occurred to me that since men are generally built to appreciate women’s beauty, perhaps it is more suitable for them to like flowers?!)

Anyway, it got me into trouble, particularly with one young White Stone disciple: she insists that it is totally unthinkable for men to like flowers… in fact she gets almost hysterical about the subject. (‘Plants, yes, but flowers?!..’)

What do you think then? Cast your vote! Is it acceptable for men to like flowers – even enough to want to be given them?

The Celibate Life Unveiled!

One of my closest friends has just entered the blogosphere and I'm quite excited about it. Not least, because of the rather dramatic title of his new blog - The Celibate Life Unveiled! (See the link on this blog).

Yes, my friend (along with a few hundred others in our church) has committed himself to lifelong voluntary singleness in order to be freer to serve God and give himself to people. Which is impressive wouldn't you say? And inspiring. And contraversial. (I guess there may be a few outraged comments on his blog over the coming months - I hope he publishes them...)

As it happens I got involved in the singleness controversy just yesterday (which is one of the reasons I didn't post on my blog that day). I read a book review on the Christianity Today website. The book was called Getting Serious About Getting Married. The author makes a case against adult singleness, going so far as to call it unbiblical — and marriage a "biblical mandate" for all but the few who have been called to full-time kingdom work that makes family life impossible or who have a medical condition that makes them unable to perform marital "duties".

What rubbish! I'm pleased to say that the reviewer of the book took issue with what this author was saying - but I didn't think her criticism was strong enough (so I wrote an email to Christianity Today - goodness knows if anyone will ever read it, but I needed to vent my outrage). Anyway, if you want to read the email I sent, I've entered it as the first comment on this post. (I thought I'd enter it as a comment to stop this post becoming enormous!)

In the mean time - thank God for The Celibate Life Unveiled and thank God for courageous, noble, wonderful saints like my friend and his fellow followers of the Lamb - wherever He goes.

Love is...

Quite late last night, I got a text from a young disciple. 'I just want to be loved'. I'd noticed earlier that she was a bit down and my heart goes out to her.

Because the thing is, she really is loved. But it's one thing to say that and another for her to feel it.

I was thinking about her this morning on the way to work. And it made me think about love and Jesus and why we love Him and a scripture came to mind:

We love because He first loved us. (1 John 4:19)

He 'just wants to be loved' too. But He got on with loving us and dying for us while we couldn't care a damn (literally). So I suppose there's a lesson for my young disciple in that: get on with loving others and love will be your reward.

And as it happens, I have real trust in this young disciple. She may know her need and feel some pain and loneliness at times - but she's taking hold of Jesus and His Church and she's got a shining future - full of love.

Vintage White Stone

Last night was choc-full of classic White Stone vintage life - of every kind.

Agape meal with the committed; visiting celibate sister; guitars and harmony; new song about knowing Jesus written by a household bard; wonderful quote ('Recently, I feel like I've been running along and I've suddenly realised my legs aren't working'); deep theology ('Why is it important that Jesus is God?'); shared hearts with some heart-aching honesty; talk about fruitfulness; inspiration about fruitfulness; high worship; being told by a much-loved brother to kneel down and 'smile at God'; watching the rest of the household trying to do this; an invitation to fast; washing up; a sharp word with a sister; sympathising with a wife who trapped her finger under the duff microwave that we're throwing out; chucking out the duff microwave; wondering if the new microwave is big enough; tense moment over who's going to take the gazebo down (left up after a recent garden party); deciding to be one of the said gazebo-deconstuctors; taking the gazebo down in rising wind and pegging it to the line; worrying about the sister who I had a sharp word with;leaving it with God; bed, to sleep, perchance to dream...

There's no life like community life.

Wilde at heart

Last night, at dinner, someone asked one of the brothers what the difference is between faith and chance.

He thought for a moment and then said:

'Faith is what you would call a woman. Chance is what you would call a dog'.

What an answer: worthy of Oscar Wilde, I thought.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for... niceness?

Last night I interrupted our supper scene to read a verse from the New Testament to everyone.

Nothing surprising about that, you may think. After all, it is a Christian community and I am the leader.

It’s just that the verse I read out was one of the less ‘polite’ verses that crop up from time to time in the New Testament. The kind that seldom end up on plastic badges or fridge magnets.

You can check this one out: 1 Corinthians 16:22

So why did I read it out?

Well, it’s just that alongside our (absolutely right and necessary) emphasis on loving all people and bearing with them in patience as they work out their response to Jesus, and go through ups and downs, we have to recognise that there is also an equally clear line of division in the New Testament between those who are for, and those who are against, Jesus.

And at times we need reminding of this, or we can get tangled up in sentiment and lose our clarity: we must retain loyalty to Jesus Christ, even if, in the end, it means loyalty to Him alone (and absolute disloyalty to absolutely everyone else).

I trust God that there will be those (many, I pray) who will come to us and join our love for an incomparable Christ. But not all will and sometimes God takes us into times of ‘shaking down’ where he tests our loyalties and divides the wheat from the chaff. And at such times, it isn’t wrong to ‘hate’, even if it might be difficult: as Jesus Himself taught.

Carpenter from Nazareth seeks joiners

I'm 30 today. The age that Jesus left carpentry and got mixed up with John the Baptist... three years later, he was dead.

And raised from death, never to die having purchased the salvation of the world! But it all started at 30.

So you could say, I'm just at the beginning - the rest was just practice, just carpentry. And now?

I really want to live for God. I want to be like my hero, Jesus. That's my gameplan for the rest of my life - be it three years or ninety-three years...

This is God calling...stop...live in community...stop

Last night, at our cell group at Warwick University, we were talking about how God had led or 'called' us in our lives. The thing that struck me was that, yes, there were some really radical decisions that had been made (you don't make lifelong commitments or live in community because it seems like a nice idea), and yet - there were no 'telegrams from heaven'.

Sure, there were particular moments were God spoke fairly clearly to some of us, but mainly it was through unfolding circumstances, growing understanding and - this was probably the main one - relationships.

We often say (a bit parrot-fashion, if I'm honest) that people need to know that God is calling them before they commit to things like community. I wouldn't deny this... and yet...

Is it really valid to say, 'I'm waiting for God to call me to give up my personal possessions and my own life'? Hasn't He done that already? (Luke 14:33)

But, sure, people need to see it and to hear from God and to be sure, if they're gonna last the course. Jesus taught this kind of carefulness too, if you read the rest of Luke 14...

So what am I saying? I guess that we need to respond to the clear commands of Jesus in the gospels with honesty and with a process of weighing up how we can best live them out. For this we need to hear God and we need each other. Even Paul, who signed most of his epistles with 'Paul, called to be an apostle', discerned this call with the help of others (Acts 13:1-3).

My own journey into 'all things in common' community was a big mix: being filled with the Spirit, hunger for more of God, reading the Bible, some straight challenges from people, having my wallet nicked by a homeless lad, finding a spiritual 'Dad', revelation - and some 'holy coincidences' like asking God 'What should I do with my life?' then pressing play on my CD player to have the words 'The call is to community' sung out at me (a Michael Card song I seem to remember)! The whole process took about three years. Actually, what am saying: the process is still going on. God still calls.

And I still want to follow.

ReSound

My mate just looked at my blog - and guess what? The picture's there! So there you go... I'm a genius. I just didn't know it.

Microsoft will be headhunting me before you can say, 'bodystyle ="border: 0; margin: 0; padding: 3px; width: auto; font: normal 100% Georgia, serif; text-align: left"div/div/body'...

Sound of your own face

I've been trying to include a photo of myself in the blog profile this morning. I was doing well, I thought, (given my level of ICT competence weighs in at roughly equivalent to a Victorian garden snail) and managed to upload a pic - but then I overstepped myself...

It'd be good to have my photo on the main page of my blog, I thought. So people can know it's me and all that. It's not a bad picture either. I'd shaved that morning. True my neck looks a little scrawny and chicken-like (perhaps a touch of Kermit the frog, my wife would say) and I'm apparently randomly staring off the right of the picture - but it was actually taken at the proud moment that I held my newborn son and presented him to the whole church (it's a tradition we have), so I thought it would be a good one.

But could I get it to appear on the main page? - ha! After twenty minutes of hacking through the thicket of the Blogger 'help' pages, I realised (yet again) that I didn't speak the right language. What with profiles and http and templates and uploading and flagging and blogging and bogging and slogging... I gave up: I didn't even know what the proper name for the main page of a blog is.

So, dear reader, you'll have to do without my photo, alas. I think it features in my profile now, but not on the main page, front page, display page, http web-uploaded blogarama page or whatever it's called.

Actually, the more I look at that picture, the less I like it. It's a bit like hearing the sound of your own voice: first you can't believe it's you (we know we don't sound anything like that - it must be a faulty recording) and then it sinks in that all our friends, family and even enemies continually hear that lisping, fluty, squeaky tone (or that deep, rasping, throaty grunt, but you get the point) all the time and it's us that are hearing it wrong... er, where was I? Oh yes - it's like that with photos: is my chin really that shape? Aren't my eyes squinty? Man - my wife was right about Kermit...

I'd better look into removing it. Now lets see... opposite of uploading?.. I guess that'll be downloading then..........

Tangle weed

This morning a very worried couple came and had breakfast with me. They're the parents of one of the youngsters that come round to White Stone - except he hasn't been around much recently and has spent more of his time drifting about smoking weed. They're wondering what has happened to their sweet-natured son and who this touchy, selfish, loafer that they have living with them is...

Putting our heads together, we concluded that we need to just hang in there, keep loving, tell him the truth (at those times when we sense an opening to receive it) and wait for maturity to kick in. We prayed for him. We don't understand, but God is bigger than us.

I'm going to try to arrange to spend a day striding the hills with him soon. No particular agenda, just me being me with him being him. And I trust that our hearts can touch and he can find a glimpse of the Kingdom again. Because I sense that he's a young man with a calling. I don't want to see him throw his life down the plughole.

We must trust God, but shouldn’t be naive - we can't assume the future will be rosy, if the present is rebellion, selfishness and passivity. What we sow, we reap. So I want this young man to find sanity and his will before his direction is so awry and his heart so hard that he finds it difficult to return.

On a wider level, yet again I reflect on the destructive power of cannabis. The subtle, omnipresent lie appears to be that weed isn't addictive and doesn't affect you: complete rot. It robs people of their will and clouds their mind and it very often leads into other drugs. It's poison.

Do teenagers have to go through these mad phases as they ‘find themselves’? I’ve strongly argued that they don’t (see April 26.06), but it does seem that the way our society goes more and more of them do.

God – heal our nation, rescue the next generation. Don’t let them perish. Teach us how to be the church that they can belong to wholeheartedly and live for; now – and in their future.

'When through the woods...'

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately... and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived... I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life... (Henry David Thoreau)

Yesterday lunchtime, I went to the woods.

Hacking fairly deep into the woods, away from the road, I came to a clearing with a beautiful dead tree at its centre, bare wooden boughs elegantly twisting into the sky and a large flat stump just above ground level. I sat on the stump and ate my sandwiches and the silence of the wood enfolded me.

Except it wasn't silent. There was a veritable orchestra of birdsong: high treble chirps, lower warbling and occasional bass cawing. And there was the hum of insects winging past and the rustling of treetop squirrels. And, somewhere between sound and feeling, there was a very subtle breath of wind moving around the clearing.

I'd thought it was silent, but it wasn't. Nor was it noise. In fact, in the silence of the wood, I realised it was music. As I sat and let the silence and the euphony surround me, I closed my eyes and suddenly God was there. And I was loving Him.

I hadn't particularly gone to the woods looking for an epiphany. It was a nice day and I went to the woods to eat my sandwiches and pray a bit. But God was there first and He had amorous intentions. He ambushed me. He took my breath away.

After a while I started to mouth, soundlessly, words from Jesus’ Kingdom prayer, pausing after each phrase and letting the birdsong and the breeze and the love fill the moment and make it worship.

I came back from the woods having remembered that I am a man in love.

Very big house in the country

I went to one of our big community houses yesterday, a beautiful old rectory in a semi-rural area near Milton Keynes. With its sweeping staircases, huge sash windows and noble yew trees, it's the kind of house that easily inspires romantic dreaminess.

But we're selling it. I went there to collect a few items which we're moving to my place of work and it was with a heavy heart that I left - knowing that I'd almost definitely never go there again. Why are we selling it? Well, it's a long story, but the bottom line is that the church community in Milton Keynes is really too small to make such a large house worthwhile. So they're downsizing. I've no doubt this is a wise and necessary step for the saints there to be able move on and find fresh and achievable vision. But I still find it desperately sad - and not just because I'm fond of old romantic houses (which I confess to be true).

It's just that, as I stared out of one of the top floor windows over the roofs of the rest of the house and the over the grounds, it struck me what a wonderful resource the place was for the Kingdom of God. It cries out to be full of passionate saints: living, loving, sharing, reaching out and demonstrating the great alternative that is God's new creation. I reflected on my own dreams (which amount to big houses full of passionate saints living, loving, sharing, reaching out and demonstrating the great alternative that is God's new creation). I'd like to make this happen as many times as I can fit into one lifetime. Given a chance, I'd like to grab some people, move to the old rectory and make it happen - but I can't because I'm busy giving my all to make it happen somewhere else!

Which brought me to the realisation (again) that our desperate need - for which we ought to cry out to God day and night - is people. And more: people who have seen the vision and who are ready to throw their lives at it with abandon, with grit, and with determination.

Given twenty or so of these, we could fill the old rectory instead of selling it.

There are similarities at home, at White Stone. We want to be able to grow to the point where we can create a team to be released and go and make Christian church and community happen somewhere else. But if this is to happen we gotta find people of leadership mettle - and they don't grow on trees.

Since I've only got one life to live (ever had one of those moments when you wish you could live several lives at the same time - like me wanting to move to Milton Keynes at the same time as building White Stone?..) I'm going to have to ask God to give us men and women of passion: leaders.

Recently, I've been searching my heart asking myself why I'm so keen to see the Church grow and spread. And (as I expected and feared) there's some murky motivations (ambition, romanticism, success-orientation) - but I can honestly say that the deepest motivation within me is that I love Jesus and I want Him to be known and His teachings to be lived and His Church to be glorious.

Because there's a nation to take. There's a Kingdom to be demonstrated. There's a cause to burn for. Oh God - bring it on!

"Give me one hundred preachers who fear nothing but sin, and desire nothing but God, and I care not a straw whether they be clergymen or laymen, such alone will shake the gates of Hell and setup the kingdom of heaven upon earth." (John Wesley)

Joy!

When disappointments flock overhead like a cloud of cawing rooks, it's good to come back to square one and realise that the source of our joy isn't the passing things anyway: it's Jesus, risen from the dead and soon to return. Nothing can shake Him. Our joy is unshakeable.

Then birds of prey came down... but Abram drove them away.
(Gen.15:11)

Imitation is the sincerest form of... discipleship?

Yesterday was a funny old day. Packed with good stuff - for instance, we baptised a young man in the evening and another young disciple spoke in tongues for the first time that same evening and seemed very touched. And yet, and yet... I found my heart heavy at various times.

Why? Because I'm looking for disciples. And for all that I do genuinely love to see the good things happening in various ones, there are few who seem ready to really embrace fully the challenge of living all-out as a disciple.

A wise brother and 'father' among us pointed out recently that we need to be able to call people to 'imitate us as we imitate Christ' just as Paul did. Which is a challenge: if they were to imitate me, what weaknesses would they inherit along with my strengths?

Nevertheless (and you can harangue me for saying this if you think it sounds horribly conceited) I reckon that if the people around me, in my household and church, did imitate me it would be a stronger household and church than it is now. The quest for disciples, I realise, is a quest for sons (and daughters): that is, for those who have inherited the same heart, the same passions, the same spiritual DNA that I have. I find myself praying that God will send people who will come to love Jesus and the vision of our Church as much as (or more than) I do.

Because otherwise it all starts to feel a bit like pushing boulders uphill (you know, there's something about a boulder that would much rather roll down the hill; but put your back into it and really strain and you might just get it to the top - but don't let go or... it's back at the bottom of the hill again!)

Don't get me wrong. Making disciples is about patience and people take time to work things through (particularly hurting youngsters from mixed-up backgrounds). I know this. (Please don't all leave comments reminding me.) But I'm still going to ask God for disciples who want to learn, who want to give - and, yes, who want to imitate me as I imitate Him.

Ebony black and salmon pink

I had lunch with a brother from Zambia today. I was delighted to find that our hearts easily made the journey over several thousand miles of cultural difference. We shared the same passion: God and His Kingdom.

He's come over, along with fifty or so others, for MILC - the Multiply International Leader's Conference - which takes place this coming Saturday. A lot of delegates have come early and we've been laying on a packed programme for them: visiting some of our community properties and businesses and holding seminars on aspects of our Church's vision such as Christian community and covenant brotherhood. Heady stuff. Many of these brothers and sisters come from countries where it's far from easy to be a Christian at all. And yet, they're clearly fairly awed by what God has done with us.

All of which leaves me with a potent cocktail of emotions swirling around within me. On the one hand, I'm so proud again of the rare wonder of what God has led the Jesus Army into. And on the other hand, I'm hugely humbled as I consider the suffering and patience of some of our overseas brethren.

But most of all, I'm enjoying the brotherhood that can happen when two men from different continents, with different skins, different cultures, different histories and different languages meet and discover they've got one heart.

Bludgeoned we stand

Been feeling a little bludgeoned by life just recently. Oh, there are good things happening and I'm grateful, but all the same...

I've been feeling some pain over a few people who seemed to be doing well, pressing into more commitment: then, in their various ways, seemed to fold - in less than a fortnight - and now one of them has had to be asked to stay away until they can come back in better heart, one's very scarce and slippery, another's got confused and is making noises about backing out... And then there's me - I find myself aware (oh, so aware, but usually after it's too late and I've done or said something stupid) of my own sins and shortcomings.

If it wasn't for the blood - we'd all be dead.

A friend sent me a very heartening word from Jackie Pullinger the other day, from the preface to her book, Chasing the Dragon. It gave me strength to fight on another day. Here it is. Hope others find it strengthening too.

"Over the years we have had hundreds of short-termers who want to get the picture immediately - if possible on video - so they can show it to their home church and have an inspired evening. I have begged them to love the people and stay, just like Sai Di did of me thirty years ago. The disadvantage of short term is a wrong perspective based on this generation's need for instant results. Many have stayed with us and lived in our new houses, now called St Stephen's which currently houses over three hundred men, women, teenagers and children all over HK.. Sometimes everything goes well and there are real conversions, healing and glorious glimpses of changed lives. The visitors leave and wonder why it does not work at home. They wonder why everything seems so easy in Hong Kong. At other times nothing goes right even here. The man who prophesied last night beats up a helper the next morning or the whole house runs away. They visitors leave disillusioned. "It is nothing like she wrote in her book, we had a hard time." The remarkable fact that after so long we still see most addicts who come to us believe in Jesus, pray in tongues and detoxify from drugs painlessly does not obscure the fact that they need a changed mind. So the voyeurs leave. They have their video clips but they never saw. It was either all too good or all too bad and neither was accurate. We love our people whether they turn out well or not and the successes do not vindicate our ministry nor the disappointments nullify it. What is important is whether we have loved in a real way - not preached in an impassioned way from the pulpit."

We press on. And despite the desperate foolishness, stubbornness, and 'swerve to rot' that seems to infect us all, grace will see us through. Maybe, when we arrive at our destination, we'll all sing a heavenly rendition of 'Amazing Grace' with unparalleled gusto (and maybe with some tears amid the joy - before they're wiped away forever...)

Double crossed?

I read this in The Times this morning:

'One Anglican bishop said that he did not believe in the survival of individual "souls" after death. The bishop did admit, however, to the possibility of a non-specific "life-force" energising everyone on earth.'

My boss pointed out that Anglican bishops' signatures have a cross after their name - and Archbishops sign with a double cross...

Communication's what you need

Friendship meal tonight. We usually have a fair number of youngsters around White Stone on such occasions. Before the meal we have a 15 minutish 'grace time' with a worship activity or some 'thought' to focus us. Tonight, I'm 'on' and I want to try and give people a few pointers about how to overcome in the spiritual battle. So I'm going to say a few things about deceit and openness and about the world, the flesh and the devil. Cheerful stuff!

But the main point of it all is that 'they may all know the Lord, from the least to the greatest of them' to quote the prophet Jeremiah. This is the key to overcoming any opposition - and the first tactic of the enemy is to break down, by whatever means, our communication with God.

I'm so thankful we have a God who we can know. Who wants to know us. Who died to know us.

Caption competition

Anyone out there who knows 'Kind' will love thinking of a caption for this pic. I thought of "Jedi 'Kind': moves boxes, he does"...

Agape

Tonight is Agape, which is the night of the week when the committed core members of White Stone get together for a meal and some quality time together. And we share the bread and wine.

Often, for us, it's a much-needed recharge for all the giving that goes on the rest of the week. Sometimes people joke that our 'weekend' is Monday and Tuesday...

Anyway, I'm leading tonight (not that 'leading' is really the right word for a meal with your best friends) and I want us to address some of the battles that are going on at the moment. So that will mean prayer. And it will mean encouraging each other, cheering each other on for the next round in the ring with the enemy. And it will mean drawing close to our God and enjoying His strength and peace together.

Can't wait...

Battle stations

We have to face the fact that we're in a battle. And the Enemy does not fight according to Queensbury Rules: he fights dirty, he plays on weaknesses, he picks off the weak. He's clever and he's more committed to winning than we are.

A few of our White Stone people - particularly (but not only) some of the newer ones - are "going through it", facing various trials. Old addictions flare up; relationships swerve to rot; this one disappears down a rabbit hole; that one stomps about like a bear with a sore head...

Now I don't want to get OTT and paranoid (seeing demons behind every item of furniture). But it strikes me that we are called Jesus Army. And we have determined to be a full on church of radical discipleship. And we've been seeing people finding saving faith in Christ and being filled with the Spirit... it's a red rag to a bull. We've got to be wise to the reality of the war.

Or as the Bible puts it:

Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. (1 Peter 5:8)

And so we leaders at White Stone face the challenge of teaching our new ones, our young disciples how to fend off an enemy they know barely anything about. But - they have a strong Big Brother and we can pray for them. Then it comes down to their choices and the quality of their hearts, if the parable of the sower is anything to go on...

Turner (gets the) prize

I'm leading an assembly at the school I used to work at on Friday. It's always a bit weird going back to the old stamping ground (not to mention the old ankle biters - most of whom are probably now 6 foot with beards... that's just the girls...)

Anyway, I've decided to recycle some of the stuff I talked about at our 'Solid Rock Cafe' gospel event from Sunday night. The theme was air/breath/Holy Spirit. Getting there involved Elmer the patchwork elephant taking parachute jumps and Ezekiel prophecy to music. But the particular thing I want to recycle is a poem called 'Air' which I believe is by a Christian poet called Steve Turner. I love his poems - crunchy, humourous, understated, profound.

I looked up 'Air' on the net and didn't find it. But I found some great poems by Turner nevertheless. Thought I'd post a couple... If anyone out there likes them, I may post a couple more.

How To Hide Jesus

There are people after Jesus.
They have seen the signs.
Quick, let's hide Him.
Let's think; carpenter,
fishermen's friend,
disturber of religious comfort.
Let's award Him a degree in theology,
a purple cassock
and a position of respect.
They'll never think of looking here.
Let's think;
His dialect may betray Him,
His tongue is of the masses.
Let's teach Him Latin
and seventeenth century English,
they'll never think of listening in.
Let's think;
humble,
Man of Sorrows,
nowhere to lay His head.
We'll build a house for Him,
somewhere away from the poor.
We'll fill it with brass and silence.
It's sure to throw them off.

There are people after Jesus.
Quick, let's hide Him.


The cast of Christmas Reassembles for
Easter

Take the wise men to the Emperor's palace.
Wash their hands in water.
Get them to say something about truth.
Does anyone know any good Jewish jokes?
The one about a carpenter
who thought he was a King?
The one about the Saviour
who couldn't save himself?
The shepherds should stand with the chorus.
They have a big production number -
'Barabbas, We Love You Baby'.
Mary? She can move to the front.
We have a special section reserved
for family and close friends.
Tell her that we had to cut the manger up.
We needed the wood for something else.
The star I'm afraid I can't use.
There are no stars in this show.
The sky turns black with sorrow.
The earth shakes with terror.
Hold on to the frankincense.
We'll need that for the garden scene.
Angels? He could do with some angels.
Avenging angels.
Merciful angels.
He could really do with some angels.
Baby Jesus.
Step this way please.
My! How you've grown!

Metaphorical pipe smoking

My White Stone housemate and I share a lift into work. In fact, we work in the same office - literally, 5 feet away from each other (I see more of him than my wife...)

Anyway, the point I'm getting to is that this morning we both felt a bit groggy and 'morninged-out'. But after a little while, he brought up a theological point about the nature of the Trinity (as you do). In a moment, we were launched into a deep and fairly complex chewing over of God which went on for the rest of the journey (about 20 minutes). We covered (not exhaustively, needless to say) the Trinity, Judaism, Hinduism, icons, Eastern Orthodoxy, the incarnation and finally wound back to the Trinity again. Then we arrived at work.

Why do I mention this? Just that both of us had been feeling a bit demotivated and tired and then came alive. And it wasn't because we put on some upbeat music or told each other jokes. We didn't even try to 'get spiritual'. We engaged our brains - on God, as it happened.

It reminds me of something C S Lewis once wrote:

"I believe that many who find that 'nothing happens' when they sit down, or kneel down, to a book of a devotion, would find that the heart sings unbidden while they are working their way through a tough bit of theology with a pipe in their teeth and a pencil in their hand." - C. S. Lewis

Now I've never been into pipe smoking myself, but I know what Lewis means: so I offer it as today's reflection. And I intend to try to fill some of those moments that come up when I sag in motivation with a little more tough thinking.

Now, where did I leave my copy of Plato?...

A river, a knight and ice cream with popping candy

Been feeling a bit under seige the last couple of days. A combination of tiredness, anxiety and murkiness of spirit. Poor old me, eh?

Someone gave me a 'picture' at our Tuesday night Agape meal. (I should explain for the uninitiated - this means that he had a revelation from the Spirit for me in picture form, not that he'd nipped to Woolies and bought me a print). It was about a river with a leaking bank. He had an interpretation which was encouraging and I was grateful, but I found God speaking to me about it along different lines.

It was a warning - combined with a call. I need to protect the banks which contain the life of the Spirit in me. I sensed again God's call to take me far into His purposes - but that this could be hindered or even squandered, Esau-like, if allow my banks to be breached through sin or dullness of spirit.

Right after this another brother spoke about how God was re-calling me (as 'His knight' was the expression he used).

So I'm grateful - and I need to heed the revelation.

Also (much more cheerful) we had ice cream at the Uni' cell last night - with popping candy! What could be better?

This is community

I was beginning to get mournful about the fact that no-one had left any comments on my blog (wondering if perhaps I had promoted Tschaka's too strenuously). Then a couple of people pointed out that only blog members were allowed to... so I've changed the settings now: comment away.

A truly historic sort of day yesterday as the elders of White Stone met with all other Jesus Army elders at Cornhill (one of our 'flagship' community houses). The thrust of the day was the 'rebirth of New Creation Christian Community': a launch into new enthusiasm and growth potential for our community. We've been growing as a church, but community has been static (stagnant?) - now's the time for a renaissance.

One of my fellow elders (and my dear friend - we sometimes joke that we share a single brain) and I had written a song about community some yearts before, but never finished it. As we heard our main apostolic leader speaking about community rebirth, we turned to each other and agreed that the day had come: the song was to be finished! So we got together that lunchtime, borrowed a guitar (in fact, it was none other than the 'lyre of Zion', a guitar belonging to 'Overcomer', a seasoned bard of the church...) and shut ourselves in a room to finish the song. It's based on New Testament scriptures on the community theme and a prayer that our community should grow to exceed a thousand people - or even three thousand (as happened on the day of Pentecost in a single day!)

Later that evening, we sang the song to the other elders and it was well received. Here's the words:

More than a thousand people in community (x3)
Oh, this is community

Jesus Has said 'Seek ye
first of all the kingdom - this is community
Greater love has no man than he
lay down his life for his brother - this is community
Oh, this is community

More than a thousand people in community (x3)
Oh, this is community

No man can be my disciple unless he
forsake all that he has - this is community
Come out from the world and be
set apart for the Lord - this is community
Oh, this is community

More than a thousand people in community (x3)
Oh, this is community

One in heart and soul, we agree
to share all things in common - this is community
The Lord our God is one in three
blessed holy Trinity - this is community
Oh, this is community

More than three thousand people in community (x3)
Oh, this is community

I'm a community enthusiast: there may be other ways to work out living out the teachings of Jesus and the apostles in the New Testament, but I know none better than living together, sharing everything we own and being 24/7 church for anyone and everyone to come to and find the reality of God in Christ.