Musical battle in urban sunshine

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

Noel Stanton

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Noel – we salute you.

Root cause

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Same old story? A preacherman's dilemma

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lord of the things

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In the teeth of a dilemma

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

I thought this delightfully surreal entry deserved sharing:

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

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

Clichés aside, love changes everything

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Getting the word out

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

So, the mJa it is.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Greed Creed

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

Thought I'd share it:
Greed Creed

On the front foot

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

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

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

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

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

Proud of Coventry Jesus Centre

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

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

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

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

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

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

The BBC covered it in their Midlands Today news programme.

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

Jesus is in the centre of the Jesus Centre.

More humbled

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

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

Humbled

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stranger than fiction

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

I mean it.

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

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

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

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

What's in a name?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So we named him Samuel Ben Piers.

May God bless you, son.

New Monasticism - fad or future?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Happy celibate martyrs day!

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

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

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

Empty vessels make the most noise

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

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

I liked this...

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

Got it from here.

Thoughts on two chapters of Matthew's Gospel

Chapter 26 of Matthew is certainly action-packed.

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

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

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

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