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.

By their fruit...

I’m reading two books at the moment.

They’re rather a contrast.

One is The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins, the avowed atheist Oxford professor. It’s a very smart, pacy, well-written book, full of wit and drive; incisive, witty, cutting, and very, very clever. And it knows it. Dawkins delights in every point he scores against poor ‘theists’ (those who insist on stupidly clinging to belief in their ‘highly improbable’ deity). It’s a book written by a strong mind, persuading his reader that he must be right – and mocking the reader who may disagree.

The other is Becoming Human by Jean Vanier, the Roman Catholic founder of L’Arche, communities in which people deliberately live together – some being severely ‘intellectually disabled’ (in Vanier’s endearing phrase) – and love and learn from each other. It is simple, humble, straight-forward – and profound. Vanier shows how what we perceive as ‘weakness’ (particularly, in this case, disability) can teach ‘the strong’ what, on the deepest level, it means to be truly human; that is, to love.

I can’t help but think of something Jesus said (Dawkins, by the way, would allow me to believe that Jesus existed, but not allow me to be so certain that He said anything. But, hey).

By their fruit you will recognize them. Do people pick grapes from thornbushes, or figs from thistles? Likewise every good tree bears good fruit, but a bad tree bears bad fruit. A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, and a bad tree cannot bear good fruit. (Matthew 7:16-18)

The fruit of Dawkins’ philosophy? Cleverness; scorn. And, ultimately, the fruit of Darwinist atheism can only be to disregard the weak. They are simply not ‘naturally selected’. What counts is strength.

The fruit of Vanier’s philosophy? Love; humility. Ultimately the fruit of his faith embraces the weak, and not merely to ‘help’ them, but to learn from them, to learn what humanity truly is. What counts is humanity.

Judge for yourself: if we disregard God as a ‘delusion’ does it help us to ‘become human’?

I'm sick and tired, thank God!

Don't worry, I haven't taken leave of my senses. It's just that something a little out of the ordinary happened last night at our household Agape meal.

I’d been talking about “rejoicing always” (Philip.4:4) –both in battles and in blessings.

Afterwards, we were praying about various trials some of us are going through – sickness, weariness, that sort of thing – when suddenly one of our elders began to thank God for them.

“Thank you that my wife has been ill with this bug for weeks and that even though we prayed for her tonight there’s no sign of improvement. Thank you for the migraine that my sister has. Thank you for the fact my head’s been all over the place today.” And so on.

The household was neatly divided into two.

There were those who caught on and started enthusiastically to thank God for other difficulties. “Thank you that that promising young disciple is in a real mess at the moment, getting tangled up with drugs.” “Thank you that my work partner is often in such a bad mood.” “Thank you for my anxieties”...

The other half were obviously rather bewildered. Surely this wasn’t right? Surely we should be asking God to intervene in such circumstances, to change them. Not thanking God for things which weren’t – well – right!

After a little while I stopped things, and commented with a chuckle how odd we find it to do what the New Testament actually tells us to do:

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds” (James 1:2)

“Rejoice in our sufferings” (Romans 5:3a)

We can easily read such verses and give them lip-service; but when you think about it – considering trials “pure joy” is not generally our mindset at all! The reason that James and Paul give is identical:

“...because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance” (James 1:3)

“...because we know that suffering produces perseverance” (Romans 5:3b)

We should rejoice in trials and hardships – yes, even thank God for them – because they develop our character, cause us to grow and mature (as James puts it, to “mature and complete, not lacking anything”).

The more you think about it, the more it seems that such an approach is all over the New Testament. “I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation”, “All things work together for good for those who love God”, “Through many trials we enter the kingdom”, “In everything give thanks”...

Not that there isn’t also plenty about asking God to change things, to intervene, to heal, to deliver, to turn things around. But we should thank God and rejoice all the way through, however He “answers”.

This morning, I got an email from a sister in the household. I think it sums things up quite well:

“I really enjoyed last night thanking God for trials. I think I had not done it very much lately but it is such a powerful thing to do because it confuses the devil no end and it encourages us. It helps us to rely on God more again. God said all things work together for good for those who love him but we find it quite hard to believe that, don't we? Anyway, bless you for bringing that word. Don't give up on teaching us to rejoice. We will get better at it and it will become more normal for us.”

Money talk

Jesus taught that if you wanted His kingdom you’d have to get rid of everything else first (Matthew 13:44, Luke 14:33). Paul warns us that the love of money is the root of all kinds of evil (1 Timothy 6:10).

Scandalously, Paul’s words are often quoted by Christians for the wrong reasons. They use Paul to defend themselves against Jesus. “We mustn’t love money” they say (“but we’ll still have plenty. Phew! That got Jesus out of the way”).

Jesus, hammer-like, put it like this: “You’ll either love God and hate money, or the other way around. You choose” (a paraphrase of Matthew 6:24). Jesus says that if you love God you will hate money! (This is less often quoted by Christians.)

Joe Average wouldn’t deny that he loves money. At least he’s honest. Most Christians guiltily deny that they love their cash and make up pretty excuses: “It’s all right to possess money, just don’t let it possess you”. Rather weak, this, compared with Jesus’ line on money which amounted to: “Get rid of it”.

Money keeps two thirds of the world in poverty for a fat minority. Money causes murder, divorce, slander, selfishness. Money drives people to an early grave, promising happiness it never gives. Money brings out the ugly in people. Money kills. (And you love it, don’t you?)

Stop ignoring Jesus. Why sing songs which decorate Him with titles while ignoring large sections of what he taught?

The church in Acts, with its sharing of money, shows us the teachings of Jesus in practice (Acts 4:32-34). Money is channelled into the apostolic work and the justice of providing for the needy in the community. It is surrendered “for the sake of the gospel” (Mark 10:29).

There was an old nun who was asked to explain her vow of poverty, chastity and obedience. She replied, with a twinkle in her eye: “Got no money, got no man, do as I’m told!” I imagine she could look Jesus in the eye.

Fear in the fog

“...in the night, imagining some fear,
How easy is a bush supposed a bear!”
- William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream

I had a strange experience last night.

It was late - after 10pm. I went for my customary walk and pray through the large park behind the roads where I live. It’s my time to close one week and open another one: something of a lifeline. I listen to my thoughts, to the silence, and to God.

Last night, was a dark night and misty.

I got to the park and could only see three or four steps in front of me as I walked, so thickly was I surrounded by fog. I quickly got lost, even though I know the park well. Trees loomed up out of the darkness. Unexpected hills and dips in the ground took me by surprise. It was surreal. Strange. Uncanny.

Suddenly I heard a footstep behind me; I froze. It might not sound very scary now, but believe me, my heart was hammering. Then more footsteps, not far off. But I was completely blind to who it was. I began to walk away. The footsteps followed, unevenly. Pad, pad... pad, pad pad...

I headed out to the open green, away from the path and the footsteps didn't follow. I walked on through the pale sea on my three foot round island of grass, blindly.

Unexpectedly, oddly (I thought I'd walked in a straight line), some time later I found myself back at the same tree-lined path. I decided to follow it out of the park. Then I heard them again. Footsteps. Not far off. Uneven. Pad, pad... pad, pad, pad. They'd waited for me, at the path...

I quickened my pace, then slowed right down. Pad, pad... pad, pad, pad... pad. The footsteps were following me, but keeping out of sight. I was frightened.

Then – suddenly – I realised. It wasn't footsteps: it was leaves.

Leaves, big horse chestnut leaves, loosened by the damp air, were dropping off the trees and landing on the ground near me, in the fog. Pad, pad... pad.

I had to laugh at myself. Man of God? Leader? Radical Christian? Afraid of falling leaves just like Mr Jelly!

I walked on down the path and it was then that God spoke, in my heart.

“What were you afraid of?”

“Er,” (feeling foolish in the presence of the Almighty) “ - leaves, Lord.”

“No, what were you actually afraid of?”

“Well, that someone was following me.”

“Why were you afraid of that?”

“Well, they might have been a mugger; they might have attacked me or stabbed me, here in this big, foggy park...”

Then, in that moment, I realised (God didn’t even have to say it as such): how wonky, how back-to-front our fears are. We fear those who may hurt the body; but how often we run pell-mell into the sin which can damn the soul.

We’re afraid of leaves. The real enemy – the sins which cut us off from life – we’re old familiar friends with.

I walked on, humbled till I came to part of the park which was lit by a beacon light high up on a war memorial.

There, I asked God last night to give me a healthy fear of sin, and – in the right sense – of Him.

"Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell." (Jesus, in Matthew 10:28)

Read all about it on the buses

A little incident last night, recounted to me by a friend:

Last night Shaun and I were walking up toward Broadgate past bus stops and giving people Streetpapers. A bus pulled up and people started getting on, but the driver opened his cab door, held them up and called out to Shaun 'Hey Jesus man, can I have a paper?' he did it twice before Shaun cottoned on and reached through with a paper. The driver received it and then shut his cab and dealt with his passengers.

Encouraging this - not just because I edit the Streetpaper (the 'good news' paper of the Jesus Army)... some people out there want to know.

Jesus is always relevant and we want to spread His fame.

The lawyer didn't like us... (sounds familiar)

We’re a church of the poor, a working class, underclass church. That’s not to say there aren’t people in our ranks who come from ‘privileged’ backgrounds, but they, like the rest of us, have embraced a lifestyle of deliberate equality: brotherhood for real.

One of my friends (son of a wealthy lawyer, now living in Christian community in the same town as me), had an email from an old university friend recently. In it she describes two very different reactions to the Jesus Army.

I recently experienced some strong reactions to JA when I mentioned to a friend from my church (well sort of from my church – he has actually stopped going ‘cause he gets very cross with the vicar) that I’d met up with a uni friend in the JA and some of my thoughts on that. He went off on one about it being controlling and manipulative – and I was a bit like “Whoa – have you actually ever met anyone or talked to anyone in the JA?!”
Anyway – it was an eye opener as to some of the reactions you lot must inspire! To counter this I was also chatting to a homeless guy outside Harrods who was from Coventry and who knew the JA and said you were all great; in his words “not like the skinny girls who go to HTB!”...
Think its probably telling that it’s the homeless guy and not the middle class lawyer who is positive about your work.

When the teachers of the law who were Pharisees saw him eating with the “sinners” and tax collectors, they asked his disciples: “Why does he eat with tax collectors and ‘sinners’?” On hearing this, Jesus said to them, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.” (Mark 2:16-17)

The Party to end all Parties

We had a large whole church bash last weekend in Sheffield. A kind of all-singing, all-dancing, lights, camera, action kind of affair. (The Jesus Army's good at making enthusiatic noise.)

One of the items we mounted in the evening was a kind of poetic drama I wrote "for four voices" called The Party to end all Parties.

It went down fairly well, so I thought I'd post it here and you can tell me what you think.

The party to end all parties (a drama for four voices)

Dear Sir,
At the end of time,
in the garden of delights,
in the city of peace,
in the newly-made earth,
God
is throwing the party to end all parties.
You are invited.
RSVP.

Voice 2:
Dear God,
I haven’t the time
for your garden of delights, no offence.
I have a field of my own to attend to,
I’m leading the way in my field.
Making it big, as it goes, very busy,
fielding all opposition.
My apologies, hope it goes well.

Voice 3:
Dear God,
Just the wrong time for me,
your city of peace, worse luck.
I’m sure you’ve heard of my breakthrough in business,
Oxen Inc. is on the brink of cornering the market.
So, sorry, pass on my regards,
to the angels.

Voice 4:
Dear God,
Such unfortunate timing
for your fantastic newly-made earth!
See, I’m rather attached to the old one!
After quite a chase, I finally caught her
in matrimonial embrace.
(We’ll be honeymooning in Nice.)
Much regret, but I’ll bet
you’ll have a great time without us.

Voice 1:
Dear sixteen year-old homeless girl,
You’ve continued with prostitution
and you’re trapped in it.
Selling your body in order to survive,
life allowed you no other option.
You are invited
at the end of time,
in the garden of delights,
in the city of peace,
in the newly-made earth,
to the party to end all parties.

Voice 2:
Dear Rwandan asylum seeker,
You suffered from bowel cancer
and had a colostomy bag
and were refused treatment by
Great Britain’s NHS
because you could not register with a doctor.
You are invited
at the end of time,
in the garden of delights,
in the city of peace,
in the newly-made earth,
to the party to end all parties.

Voice 3:
Dear 9,853 ASBOs in England and Wales,
You’re widely regarded as scum,
hopeless and dangerous delinquents,
you’re bored and convinced life is worthless.
You are invited
at the end of time,
in the garden of delights,
in the city of peace,
in the newly-made earth,
to the party to end all parties.

Voice 4:
Dear gay teenager,
You’re terrified that they might find out
and bully you like that queer in your maths class.
They put pictures of him on the internet
and trashed his young life.
You have wet dreams about lads
and wake up feeling desperate.
You are invited
at the end of time,
in the garden of delights,
in the city of peace,
in the newly-made earth,
to the party to end all parties.

Voice 1:
Dear Goth
Voice 2:
dear tramp
Voice 3:
dear autistic kid
Voice 4:
dear crack addict
Voice 1:
dear porn actor
Voice 2:
dear street sweeper
Voice 3:
dear single dad
Voice 4:
dear blind woman
Voice 1:
dear broke father
Voice 2:
dear depressed man
Voice 3:
dear self-harming girl
Voice 4:
dear punk
Voice 1:
dear busker
Voice 2:
dear pensioner
Voice 3:
dear person who isn’t too busy
Voice 4:
dear you.

All voices:
You are invited
at the end of time,
in the garden of delights,
in the city of peace,
in the newly-made earth,
to the party to end all parties.