Off to Scotland

Linda and I are off to Scotland in the morning.

I'm speaking at the graduation service of the Scottish Baptist College tomorrow evening. I'm really looking forward to it - though I am also gripped by entirely understandable panic!

Then we hope to see family, catch up with friends, see some sites and generally relax before pitching up at St Ninians church in Stirling on Sunday morning where I'm going to talk about new ways of being church in a sort of cafe-style, conversationally-based morning service.

So, no blogging until next week.

cafe church thoughts on baptism as relocation

It's good to know there's lots of people out there thinking about this issue. I've found all the contributions really helpful.

It was cafe church on Sunday and we did a very simple meditative evening on location, location, location. Taking Romans 6 as our spring board, we thought about our life of faith in terms of location and journey. We ended by signing a covenant, committing ourselves to being family to one another, helping each other walk in newness of life (the words came from Gathering for Worship). Of course, we didn't link signing the covenant with joining the church!

The interesting thing for me was the reaction of most of the worshippers - a mature crowd as most of our young adults were away at the wedding of one of their own. Many said it was the best cafe church we'd ever had. some talked of the profound way it helped them to think about their journey. One person said it took them back to their baptism and made them think about what it had meant then (a long time ago) and what it means now.

I think through the course of this conversation - both through this blog and with my team and others in church - I have become much more aware of how important baptism as a theological tool was to Paul as he explained the life of faith to his converts around the Eastern end of the empire.

Unpacking Romans 6 on Sunday evening, we looked at baptism as emigration - moving from one location (the land of sin and death) to another (the land of grace and resurrection). We looked at Jesus as the means of that emigration - the one able to pay the fare, get the exit visa, manage the crossing. We reflected on Paul's likening of baptism to the exodus (cf 1 Cor 10:2) and hence of the baptised being God's new pilgrim people, walking the journey of freedom from slavery to the promised land - in our case the redeemed world (Romans 4:13, 8:17).

All this being true, the obvious response was that we committed ourselves to journey together, watching over one another in love. I have been struck time and time again as I have read Paul over the past few weeks how close the link is between personal response in baptism and the group life of the followers of Jesus. There is no personal response to Jesus without equally personal commitment to his followers.

So, I left Sunday evening thinking that we must forge a closer link between baptism, discipleship and our life together and that the most obvious way of doing this was to link 'membership' to some kind of commitment to walk together as disciples.

For me this offers the opportunity to empty membership of all the stuff that associates it with status, being an insider over against outsiders, being more important to the church than attending non-members, while at the same time filling membership with helpful connotations of covenant commitment to God and one another, of active participation in the life of the church so that we are built up and help to build up others.

The only hurdle left is: how do you introduce such thinking into a pretty traditional baptist church that has at best an ambivalent attitude to embracing change?

Yet more on membership

Andy's comment about baptism making us ecclesial beings is quite helpful. I think baptists have tended to separate baptism and church membership to an unhealthy degree.

If that sounds odd, let me explain. In our church, ministers prepare candidates for baptism and carry out baptisms; membership is handled by the church meeting on the advice of interviewers appointed by the leaders. It means that while I can baptise someone into Christ, I can't at the same time declare that person by virtue of what's happened in the pool, to be a member of the local body of Christ where he or she has been baptised.

I think this is a nonsense and Andy has given the language with which to talk about it. Thanks.

His other comment and quote from Colin Gunton is also important. Joining a church is not another consumer choice we make between moving house and buying a three piece suite. It is important to realise that in joining a church, we are joining people we don't choose, people God says are our brothers and sisters. Part of our commitment in joining is that we're saying we are going to be family to and for and with these people we didn't choose. this is why I'm so keen on some kind of renewable covenant forming the basis of how we do membership.

Graham's point about there not being much distinction between members and non-members in terms of commitment or levels of discipleship is spot on. We have non-members who attend more frequently, give more sacrificially and volunteer more effectively and energetically than a good many of our members. And this raises a major issue about what 'membership' is and what it means.

I guess a parody of the traditional Baptist view suggests that membership is about belonging to a club of people like us which confers special privileges - most notably telling the minister how to do his job! This is probably why some churches have abandoned membership altogether; they feel it bears no relationship whatsoever to discipleship and just forms unhelpful fault lines in the church.

I hope that basing membership on an annually renewable covenant would help us deal with this issue. It says to everyone who's attending the church regularly that membership is about being committed to God, to one another and to the mission and ministry of the church; it says that the commitment being made is up-to-date - that is, it's not based on where I was with God 10, 20 or 30 years ago - which means that it's commitment to be in accountable and supportive relationships with the people who are currently gathering with this church.

It's probably not the whole answer. we'll probably still have members who rarely attend and active attenders who don't become members. But it could well lead to us having a membership that better reflects the current committed core of the church.

I'd be interested to know what people think.

I think Graham's point about our practice giving us ecumenical headaches is answered by Sean Winter's article on ambiguous genitives in Romans. I appreciate that this article is not yet in the public domain - but will be soon, I gather. One point he makes is that Baptists can't be part of ecumenical relationships while at the same time arguing that all forms of baptism that don't involve the total immersion of believers are invalid.

He argues from Romans 6 that we all need to pay greater attention to the relationship between grace and faith, laying more emphasis on God's prevenient grace. In Baptism we participate in what Christ has done for us rather than do something ourselves that has salvific significance. This means that we can acknowledge various forms of baptism administered at various stages in people's life of faith.

I think that works for me. What do others think?

More on baptism and membership

This has been a fascinating conversation so far - long may it continue cause I'm learning loads!

It seems clear to me that there are two broad groups of people who are in mind as we think about baptism and membership - and sometimes we get them confused. The first group are Christians who are looking to join our churches because they've moved into the area or have decided to move on from the church they've been attending for a while for a variety of reasons.

I feel it's obvious that we take seriously their journey with God over how ever long it's taken. This must include acknowledging the validity of whatever initiation they have undergone assuming that that initiation was accompanied along the way by faith on the part of the person. This an area that Baptists seem divided over. I'll return to it.

The second group are those who are finding faith through the activities of our churches. Regarding this group, I have long been influenced by the simple thought that belonging precedes believing. For me this has always meant that people need to be welcomed and feel accepted before they are likely to be able to sort out what they believe. This in itself raises all kinds of questions about membership (which I'll also return to - though probably not in this post)

For these folk, it seems to me, baptism is a crucial part of that journey and a creative approach to preparing them for that moment is essential.

This leads me to reflect on one point in Alan Kreider's stimulating essay in Remembering Our Future. He lays great emphasis on baptismal preparation - what he calls catechesis. Taking his cue from the patristic period - while eschewing charges of patristic fundamentalism (p177) - he argues strongly that 60 or even 90 weeks of baptismal preparation is essential.

His reason for this is that it has to undo a lot of the learning that our culture has forced on us; the billions of dollars spent on advertising, the hours spent in front of the TV - all this has to be undone and Christian learning put in its place.

I have two problems with this. The first is entirely practical - while it might say to people how seriously we take baptism and discipleship, it raises the bar so high that few people are likely to stick around to jump it. The second is that he seems casually dismissive of all the teaching efforts of churches: Sunday school, youth groups, camps, home groups, Sunday adult teaching, midweek Bible studies - all these are apparently dismissed as incapable of countering the impact of the world. And yet, surely, this is precisely what such programmes are geared to do. Our church's teaching programme aims to make disciples, aims to help those disciples navigate their way through a difficult world.

I've not had time to reflect on his twelve steps - I will and will blog about it - but my immediate reaction is that these steps describe what good churches teach week-in, week-out and to suggest that it all needs to be reiterated in detail as part of baptismal preparation seems redundant.

And would he argue that folk joining us from other traditions would need to go through a similar catechetical process? What would this say about our acceptance of their journey of faith? I can't help but think that it would send out negative and exclusivist vibes of the most unhelpful kind.

I'll reply to a couple of comments left earlier in the discussion in the next post

A musical footnote

One new album I forgot to mention yesterday is Bjork's Volta. I suspect that the Icelandic elf singer is like Marmite - you either love or loathe her. I fall into the former category (though I have to be in the mood)

I watched her performance on Later with Jools at lunchtime (the wonder of video tape and an empty home during the day) which was just wonderful - who else would have an all female brass band dressed in primary coloured crepe jump suits? The two songs - one off the new album - were cracking.

Volta opens with two blinders - Earth Intruders and Wanderlust - but every track is interesting, a fascinating blend of sounds, instruments, voices and good tunes. Reviewers have said that it's her angriest and most direct album lyrically but I have to admit that for the most part I haven't a clue what she's on about - but she does it beautifully.

This month's good listening

All good theological discussions should be fuelled by a variety of stimuli. As well as reading scripture, Sean Winter's stimulating Whitley lecture, Alan Kreider's essay on baptism in Remembering our Future (which I'll blog on later because although it's full of interesting things, I'm not sure I buy his argument) and a host of other good, solid theological tomes, I've also been listening some really good music.

Top of the pile is Modest Mouse's wonderfully titled new album, We were dead before the ship even sank. The American indie popsters are joined here by Johnny Marr, formerly of the Smiths and arguably Britain's best guitarist of the past generation. He adds wonderful subtlety to the heady and turbulent mix of the band.

Bonobo's new album Days to Come is an absolute delight. Si Green has made the transition from bedroom-based sampler to full band delivering up the perfect album to listen to in the garden on a warm summer evening with a chilled Chablis and loved one.

Laura Veirs' two albums Year of Meteors and Saltbreakers are worth checking out. She has a great voice, lovely turn of phrase and the playing is tight and immaculate.

And finally Richard Thompson's Sweet Warrior is an amazing collection of songs from the British troubadour, veteran of Fairport Convention and the English folk scene. Almost qualifying for his bus pass and casting his eye over our troubled world, he's turning out songs as good as any in his career.

Making the link between blogging and church

The great thing about blogging is the freedom one has to express thoughts and feelings about a subject and the free exchange of ideas with those who join in the conversation. At some stage for me, as a minister responsible for leading a similar conversation in my church and helping us all to discern where God's leading us as a particular community at a particular moment, the ideas generated in the freedom of blogging have to be earthed in actual church practice.

I've been pondering how this might happen in the light of the stimulating exchange that happened on this site in the past few days (thanks to all who've visited and posted both here and elsewhere. Those wanting to check out Andy's thoughts should go to http://andygoodliff.typepad.com/my_weblog/2007/06/plumbing_the_de.html )

The thing about bloggers is that we are keen to exchange ideas, explore theology and can be somewhat detached in our conversation. In churches these issues come with all kinds of baggage attached.

Some people feel that having the conversation at all is an assault on their deeply cherished and long-held feelings about church life. Others want a debate providing nothing substantial changes and still others are convinced that only the leadership want change for reasons best known to themselves.

Others, of course - perhaps a majority - just want to ensure that the way we do things according to our rules reflects the way things are in the world we actually live in. In the best possible sense, they don't really care what system we propose for membership and baptism providing it helps us be the community they think we need to be in order to be effective in mission and pastoral care.

So over the next few days my team and I will be drawing up a proposal for a way forward to share with the leadership and church next month with a view to easing change in our way of doing things that everyone will be able to live with.

I'll post the broad outline as I'd be interested in your views. After all, as a good baptist, I don't believe we have a monopoly of wisdom in our fellowship; the Lord can bring more light and truth to us out of the blogosphere. So, stick around...

Baptism revisted

I might be shot down as a heretic for saying this but I'm not sure that the idea of the universal church helps us much. I certainly don't think that the New Testament separates belonging to Christ (and hence the universal church) from relating to a local group of his followers.

All the great baptismal texts in Paul's letters - Galatians 3, 1 Corinthians 12, Romans 6, Colossians 2 - are rooted in local church experience even though they have a cosmic sweep to them.

But I agree with Marcus that we need to get rid of the rules that restrict our membership on any grounds other than discipleship.

I'm just reading Alan Kreider's chapter in Deep church and will comment in due course. I am grateful to Andy for reminding me of Stuart Blythe's description of baptism as a political act - that is something we have lost.

I'd be interested in Andy unpacking his thoughts on having a more theological understanding of membership in relation to covenant. I wonder if this is the category that helps us make the best sense of what membership is and how it works.

If that's the case, then I think what I'm suggesting is that we see membership as a covenant with one another in our churches. Furthermore I'd be interested in exploring ways of regularly renewing that covenant commitment - possibly through an annual covenant service or renewal period (say in January). I know there are one or baptist churches that practice this kind of thing - maybe someone out there can give us chapter and verse.

By bringing the covenant aspect of membership to the fore I think it offers us the chance to have a deeper and richer theology of membership, while at the same time removing some of the unhelpful hurdles we make prospective members jump through before we let them aboard.

Further baptism thoughts

Wulf's comment to the previous post on baptism is spot on. What matters is what happens after baptism - the months and years and lifetime that follows it.

And his likening it to marriage in some way helps to answer Graham's point. I agree that 'membership' is an extra-biblical idea. But relationship isn't. And it seems to me that Baptism in the New Testament always has an eye on our relationships with one another as well as with Christ. We are baptised into the body of Christ - always understood as a local community of followers of Jesus.

Membership - if it has any value at all (and I share Graham's scepticism about it as a thing in its own right) has value because it is our way of ordering those relationships.

In the New Testament churches functioned as households or as meal time symposia and thus operated according to a set of unspoken relational rules. People belonged to something and felt as though they belonged. And the NT adds to that advice on how to ensure those relationships function well.

So Philippians 2:1-18 tells us how we need to live together in a hostile environment in a way that will ensure mutual support and accountability and corporate, communal witness to the wider world. Or Ephesians 4:11ff talks about relating well within the household of God (outlined in chapter 2).

For me membership needs to function as our contemporary equivalent of those ordered relationships. if it doesn't we should scrap it. Membership is about us saying I want to be accountable to and supported by this group of people, I want to walk with them on my journey of discipleship, I desire their companionship and insight.

For this reason, I think membership should be something we opt into rather than get invited into (as in, 'do you want to join my club'); something that is focused on me agreeing to a way of life that enables me to walk with the brothers and sisters that I've met at this particular church. In other words, membership should be a covenant that we freely and regularly enter into.

I'm not sure that answers Graham's question. I'd be interested to hear how his church and others do this.

Marcus' comment about our rules flying in the face of what God is doing by calling people to be a part of our community is also spot on. He uses examples of Calvin, the wesleys and Jim Packer. I've used the example of John Stott. none of these people can join my church - or Marcus' by the sound of it - because they haven't got wet enough. I think it indicates a weakness of our position.

Two tribes in step

At our recent church conference, we concluded our conversations together thinking about how the two big tribes in our churches - the inheritors and the emergents - can walk together for the benefit of the future. I thought I'd share my thoughts with a wider audience. Be interested to know what you think...

Frankie (who remembers FGTH?) says ‘when two tribes go to war, a point is all that you can score’ How true! But if two tribes walk in step, think of what they could achieve…

We live in a world of constant and unpredictable change. Not a world where things develop – such as the world our parents and grand-parents grew up and handed on to us – but a world that lurches and jumps, where new ways of doing things are swept away by even newer ones for no reason other than they can be. This is a disorienting place to be for pretty much everyone – whatever age we are, whichever tribe we belong to.

There are two broad tribes in our churches – including this one. They respond to this whirlwind of change in two broad ways:

Tribe 1 – we’ll call them the inheritors – consists of people who’ve inherited, taken to heart and owned a way of doing church that seems to have been around forever (in fact it’s about 100-150 years old).

They like the inherited ways of doing things for a number of reasons: first, they have stood the test of time – at least for as long as their memory stretches back; second they provide a predictable and comfortable place in a world of uncomfortable and unpredictable change; and third it’s a way of doing things we have found beneficial in our development as Christians and thus we suppose others will as well

But change is provoking all kinds of uncomfortable feelings. The world they knew and loved is passing away, a new world seems constantly on the threshold of being born but we can’t see what shape it is yet – but we know we won’t really like it.

Tribe 2 – we’ll call them the emergents – consists of people who have not inherited the classical ways of doing things. Indeed, they find them to be unsatisfactory, unhelpful, a distraction from living faithful Christian lives in a world of rapid and unpredictable change

They are looking for new ways of doing things for a number of reasons: first, they have always lived in this world of unpredictable change and the old ways don’t help then to find a place in it; second, they have increasingly found the inherited ways difficult to access because their lives do not allow them the time or space to do things previous generations did; and third they find inherited ways of doing things no longer help them in their witness to their peers and neighbours

They are impatient to see the church change as the world around them has, so that it helps them to live their Christian lives and do mission in this world, not a world that has disappeared. They are looking for new ways of being church to emerge but it hasn’t happened yet and they aren’t entirely sure how to make it happen

Two tribes caught up in a world of rapid and unpredictable change. Two tribes with the same call – to live faithful Christian lives, create communities that embody Christian values and engage in mission to bring the life-giving message of Jesus to those around them lost and floundering in this world of rapid and unpredictable change.

Here are two suggestions about how these two tribes might engage with one another:

1) dialogue: if we talk to each other – and listen carefully to what each other is saying – we will quickly see that each tribe has insights that the other needs to live faithfully in today’s world: the inheritors will see that the emergents actually have to the tools to cope with the world as it is. They also have a holy restlessness to see the church rise to the challenge of making Jesus known in this world and the gifts of creativity to make it happen

The emergents will see that the inheritors’ have a history of faithfulness over the long-haul, traditions that have been handed down over generations of teaching and theology, the skills of organization, the commitment to stick at things over long periods of time – qualities that will be needed in whatever world is emerging.

2) diffusion: if we talk to each other, we’ll hopefully offer two things: first the grace of honouring each other’s ways of doing things. There is not one right way of being and doing church. The gospel can be earthed in any culture and will look different in every culture in which it is properly and faithfully earthed. Second the space to allow each tribe to do church in a way that meets their needs and that of their peer group outside the church. This means groups of various kinds meeting in various ways and at various times to be and do church in a way that builds their faith and equips them to reach out to the world. It might mean several things happening at once targeted at different groups – even on a Sunday morning.

Constant, rapid and unpredictable change is here to stay – at least for the foreseeable future – if we retreat into our tribes and defend our turf, the church will shrink, consumed in a swirl of irrelevance and infighting. If two tribes talk to each other, share their hopes and fears, the church that emerges will be strong and faithful to the gospel.

Plumbing the depths of baptism

Following April's church conference we are moving ahead on a number of fronts. And the big debate at our elders' gathering yesterday was the link between baptism and church membership.

At the moment only those baptised by immersion can be full members of the church and hence leaders. It means that those initiated in evangelical Anglican or Methodist traditions, for example, can only become associate members and never be leaders. This has led to a feeling that we have first and second class membership, with one or two not taking associate members as seriously as others.

So we talked about two possible alternative models. One is to recognise all forms of Christian initiation where it includes a step taken as a believer - so confirmation as a believing adult following infant baptism would count. The other is to allow anyone to become a member - to decouple membership and baptism - but to insist that leaders can only be selected from among those who have been baptised by immersion.

I am torn between the two options. And would like to find a third...

I am, however, more convinced than ever that baptism is an important marker for us. I have just reread Sean Winter's provocative paper 'Ambiguous Genitives, Pauline Baptism and Roman Insulae: exegetical resources from Romans for Pushing the Boundaries of Unity' written in response to the report produced by a group of Anglicans and Baptists which met over a number of years looking at issues that divide and unite us. Their report was published by Church House in 2005 under the title Pushing at the boundaries of unity.

Sean argues (I think) that the one baptism of Ephesians 4 is Jesus' baptism and that Paul's baptismal theology in Romans 6 is an outworking of his understanding that discipleship is based on the faith of Jesus - articulated most clearly and dramatically in Galatians 2:15-21 (though to see it you do need to note that three times - twice in v16 and again in v19 - Paul speaks not of our faith in Jesus but of Jesus' faith in which we participate by our faith. I've argued this at length in my Crossway Bible Guide on Galatians - this is one of the ambiguous genitives of Sean's title; the other is 'the righteousness of God').

This means that while we might argue that believers' baptism is the best picture of the drama of faith, all baptism is valid theologically because it takes its power from Jesus' baptism - understood not just as his initiation into ministry at the Jordan but his suffering, death and resurrection (the very things pictured in our baptism).

One thing that I am thinking about, in the context of membership as well as baptism, is that baptism marks a key stage in our life of discipleship but that maybe it marks neither the start nor the end of the beginning of it as some of us often emphasise as we prepare candidates for the pool. There is a tendency to see it as the beginning, something you need to do as a first step and then move on from.

Yet, I have been struck forcibly over the past few weeks by how often Paul calls his readers to remember their baptism as a significant picture of what happened to them as they chose to be disciples of Jesus, a picture that continues to shape their lives as disciples, especially within the community of believers.

So, for example, he talks of baptism in 1 Cor 12:13 (where I take him to be talking about baptism in water) ahead of his conversation about how we treat one another in the church. Because each of us has marked our determination to be a disciple by a baptism that is both a sharing of Jesus' and a picture of our desire to live a new life, we should therefore recognise one another in the church as equals - regardless of class, education, race or anything else that in the world would divide us. And hence we need to recognise one another's giftedness.

Or Galatians 3:26-29 where midway through the amazing Bible study that he is using to demonstrate the truth of his gospel against that of his rivals in Galatia, Paul takes his first hearers back to their baptism. Being clothed in Christ (a picture of sharing Jesus' baptism, life, death and resurrection? I think so), we are now one in the community of disciples. And through belonging to Christ in this way, we are heirs of the promise, Abraham's seed (as Jesus is - 3:16 - we can only be seed - singular - if we are 'in Christ' through baptism and living out of his faith) so we do not need to add anything to ensure that we either get in or stay in God's people (works of the Law, for example), neither do we need to impose such things on one another. We are one in Christ through faith and baptism - primarily that of Jesus and secondarily our own.

So, while I am more than ever convinced how important baptism is, I am less bothered about its administration - how wet people get and when. I am more concerned that we see baptism not only as a picture of how our Christian lives start but also of how they continue.

Am I missing something?

Reflecting on Galatians

Re-read Sean Winter's Galatians Bible study from the Baptist Assembly and began reading his Whitley lecture. The former is full of good stuff - as I said before - the latter looks really interesting.

We have begun preaching through Galatians at church and this week I was exploring identity through Paul's long autobiographical section (1:11-2:21 - the longest in any of Paul's letters).

Half way through talking about our identity in terms of call (by God) and community, I got a sense of just how vital Galatians 3:26-29 is in all this.

I believe Galatians to be Paul at his most apocalyptic 1:4 and 6:14-15 bookend the discussion with suitably apocalyptic tones; his discussion of the new life we enjoy in the Spirit is apocalyptic and thus so is his description of the new humanity we are in Christ, summarised in 3:26-29. It's almost as if this is the peak of the mountain whose low slopes are marked out by 1:4 and 6:14f.

If this is the case then it's crucial that we grasp who we are in Christ in terms of the new creation and not in terms of categories derived from this age - Law, ethnicity, social status, education, whatever (I agree with Sean that gender differences are still important because sexuality is a core part of what it means to be human and does so in the new age as well as the old one; but that gender domination has no place in the new age, for we are equal in Christ and equally called and gifted to participate, minister and lead in god's new community.)

A key point that I made this morning - I'm not sure entirely effectively - is that the distinction we sometimes make between 'human beings' and 'human doings', emphasising that we're the former, misses the point of who we are in Christ. Paul describes his identity and work in the same broad sweeping term - call (1:15). This emphasises the all-encompassing nature of the life of discipleship. After all, in the terms of his other strong image in the letter, we can't just be crucified with Christ on Sundays and at the mid-week bible study; we either are or we aren't. Being crucified with Christ defines our lifestyle 24hours a day, seven days a week, for it's no longer me that lives but Jesus who lives through me (2:20 - next week's topic - bring it on!).

So it matters not only what we do but also - and possibly more importantly - how we do it, because it is the way we live out our calling to be disciples in the world in a way that makes us part of God's renewing of creation.

How do you describe your church?

Excellent post by Andy Goodliffe (who's blog is increasingly unmissable, jammed full of essential stuff) on the language we use about church. Check it out at andygoodliff.typepad.com/my_weblog/

Stipe on doing something about it

Came across a nice quote from Michael Stipe (he of REM and the heavy blue eyeliner) on Faithnet. He was talking about his reactions to Katrina's devastation of New Orleans. He said:

The most godly way to respond to something like this is to put everything aside and say, "You are my brother and sister, and I am here. I have not forgotten. I have not turned my back. I've not allowed the news cycle to dictate whether I am paying attention to the circumstance you found yourself in or not. I am here."

He went on to speak warmly of his Methodist parents and the fact that he came from a long line of Methodist ministers. You can read it at www.beliefnet.com/story/187/story_18748_1.html. It puts Losing My Religion (one of the most incredible songs of the 1990s) into an interesting perspective. I just hope he and his band can capture the spirit that produced that song on their next album.

A final reflection on cafe church

Still picking over the scab of Sunday evening's gathering... I think, on mature reflection, that the major problem with it was that the Bible material wasn't clearly enough linked to the Paul Simon material.

So for future reference, I think if I do anything like this again, I will tie the album and the bible material much more closely together, possibly inviting the congregation in groups around the table to critique the selection of songs we're using with the text of scripture and vice versa.

I think I'd also have a quiz. I almost did a 'ten things you won't know about this album' quiz but decided not to because the service was already looking long enough. Quizzes are a great way of generating conversation around and between tables at cafe church and an excellent means of imparting information without giving a lecture.

The format has worked well with serious moral/ethical issues - stem cell research, international debt - and pop culture topics - the Da Vinci Code. A mixture of questions, some lighter than others, gets people thinking and talking together and generates an interest in knowing what the answer is when people discover they don't know. It's fairly important to pitch the quiz just above your audience's known ignorance level - it would be a disaster if one table romped home to an easy victory, leaving everyone else in their wake!

Loving the new Bjork album - challenging and beautiful as ever. I've also just finished C J Sansom's third Matthew Shardlake novel, Sovereign - it's the best yet, a deep, dark, intricate web of a mystery every bit as dazzling as the Name of the Rose. The characterisation of a bloated, paranoid Henry VIII, touring the North of England amid plots and doubts about the succession is superb. Shardlake is an extraordinary creation. I hope another one's in the pipeline.

Peter Oakes on Philippians

Finally got my own copy of Peter's excellent study on Philippians. Having read other people's and photocopies of a couple of chapter, I now have a brand spanking new paperback via the ever-efficient Amazon Marketplace.

Peter and I were at LBC together - but he was always a lot brighter! His book and related articles were what rekindled my interest in New Testament social history so I'm looking forward to reading it all over again in the light of all the things I've read since first encountering it - much of it at his recommendation.

reflecting on cafe church

Cafe church went ok yesterday - no technical hitches and we stuck pretty well to time. It was demanding and I think it took a lot of us quite a bit of effort and time to get into it and some didn't - though judging by participation in the zone time, I'd say lots of people were sufficiently touched by something to want to respond.

As promised, here's my closing monologue on the link between Paul Simon's Surprise and Romans 8:

'How can you live in the North east? A plea for a warring world to live together in peace, yet acknowledging that we wear our father’s old coat, we cling to the culture that made us, the language that shapes us, the gods that crave our allegiance...

So let’s abandon god altogether and watch the fourth of July fireworks – that beautiful image of being so small in vastness of space:

We watched the fireworks 'til they were fireflies.
Followed a path of stars over the endless skies.

This is something that haunts the album – but not as much as God does.

Who’s going to love us, he sings on outrageous

Who's gonna love you when your looks are gone?
God will,
Like he waters the flowers on your window sill.

And one thing he doesn’t believe is that

…a heart can be filled to the brim
Then vanish like mist as though life were a whim

And in war – when we’re overwhelmed by our inability to live together because we’re so prone to tear ourselves apart as families as much as nations – we wrap ourselves in prayer:

when the wounds are deep enough,
and it's all that we can bear,
We wrap ourselves in prayer

There’s an urgency about this praying that’s absent from the calm, private conversations we hold with our gods when we’re at peace. In war – as the fires come – we join in prayer in every language for all the world’s families scattered and broken…

And suddenly we’re in Romans 8, groaning with the groaning world, agnostics united in not knowing what to say but knowing someone is there in the depth of our agony and inability to articulate – and he’s groaning/she’s groaning in labour as in the shadows and the convulsions of creation, a new world takes shape.

And we’re invited to participate in its creation.

At its most basic it is – as Paul Simon sings on Everything about it is a love song –

But if I ever get back to the twentieth century
Guess I'll have to pay off some debts
Open the book of my vanishing memory
With its catalogue of regrets
Stand up for the deeds I did
And those I didn't do
Sit down, shut up, think about God
And wait for the hour of my rescue


And at its most wonderful, it’s God’s children, his heirs, flexing their muscles and playing their small part in the redemption of the world he loved so much he absorbed its agony and anguish on the cross to redeem it

And our response is….?'

Paul Simon at cafe church

In the end cafe church this coming Sunday is not quite like we did in prism - for one thing I don't have a whole day to cement broken tiles to an mdf cross (come to think of it, I don't have an mdf cross!)

I have, however, been reflecting on Paul Simon's lovely Surprise album and have cast a gathering around it and Romans 8 called 'Paul Simon and the groaning world'. Using three songs from the album - I don't believe, wartime prayers and how on earth can you live in the north-east? - we'll reflect on what the world is like and what our call is as God's heirs in the world in the light of some of Simon's observations.

I'll post my concluding monologue - about five minutes - after Sunday evening. I've found Simon's wrestling with the way of the world and his sense of being haunted by the divine very moving. it's an album of rich and deep meditations on the isolation of the human condition and the need to make some kind of connection with a power bigger than ourselves. He wonders on the opening track whether that might just be the nation we inhabit, that maybe if we rose above our cultures and religions, we might be able to live together. But those thoughts are shattered 9/11 and the subsequent war. It seems our cultures trap us in default responses - only prayer can rescue us.

And what do God's heirs have to say about this? I'll let you know...

I think Romans 8 is a rich resource for us as we dialogue with people like Paul Simon and the countless thousands on the planet he in some way speaks for. We are called to share the agony of the creation we're a part of and find the groaning God in our hearts whose presence strengthens us to play our part in bringing about redemption.

So if you're a fan of Paul Simon and live in Bromley, come and join the conversation. You can't miss us - on Sunday evening, we'll be the church playing the sweetest music!

Bringing Prism to Bromley

I shall be trying a version of Prism's take on Romans 8 this Sunday at our monthly cafe-style service. The three groans of the passage cry out out for a zone each that will help us express the agony of creation, the church and God in creative ways.

I'm pondering smashing a pile of tiles and fixing them to something (not sure what yet) and would quite like to fine a life-size Russian doll (do not willfully misunderstand that - I am, of course referring to a wooden construction consisting of a doll within a doll within a doll and nothing else that you can acquire over the Internet). I'm also going to do the coffee bean and chocolate ritual. Somehow in my mind this all seems to fit. We'll see.

We also kick off Galatians this week (in the mornings until the end of August), so I am finding Sean Winter's Bible study (available at his blog http://seanthebaptist.typepad.com/ along with a host of other good things) very helpful. I am going away to ponder what he says about baptism preparation - partly because it's a really good thought and mainly because I begin a series of baptismal preparation sessions with at least two people tomorrow evening (very exciting!).

What I am most struck by is Sean's suggestion that Galatians 3:26-29 offers those being baptised a theological vision of their identity and mission, the start of a new reality we are called to live in day-by-day. It's not only an individual identity, either, but an identity that is focused on joining a community of similarly renewed people who together are working for the redemption of creation (which, of course, takes me back to the bottomless theological lake that is Romans 8...)

So, thanks to Sean for giving my baptismal preparation classes a much-needed make over.

I'll probably also try to read Alan Kreider's essay in the new Andrew Walker/Luke Bretherton collection Remembering our Future: Explorations in Deep Church. Unfortunately, use of the word 'deep' in this context keeps reminding me of the jazz critic on the Fast Show! But I'm sure Alan's piece - 'Baptism and Catecheses as Spiritual Formation - will be stimulating and Godly as his stuff invariably is.

More Prism reflections

It seems like a good number of people enjoyed Prism - judging by the response I've had in various forms.

My mature reflections after a couple of days in rain-swept Devon relaxing with good friends are that I thought the Bible studies went well - the right mixture of input from the front (ten minutes of me - plenty for everyone!) and discussion with facilitators where people wrestled with how the text applies to some pressing issues facing us today; I thought the evening with the Newly accredited Ministers was just wonderful - it was great to see their faces as they came into applause and were sang over by our gospel singer; and the communion was pretty special - it was deeply moving to see friends and strangers offering each other bread and wine, sharing in the words of institution and in many locations, praying for one another.

The age mix was great. Lots of people see Prism as appealing to the under 40s (and I hope it does). But what we found was that at each session the retired and the student sat shoulder to shoulder. And a lot of the glowing comments I've had have come from people in their 50s and 60s for whom the format was a breath of fresh air. One such grabbed my hand at the end of one evening and thanked me, saying that it was the most 'authentic' thing he'd been to at the Assembly for years.

The two workshops we ran in the afternoons were also pretty special. The first was packed and full of ideas about how to do things more creatively in our churches; the second was more select and focused on the links between alt. worship and emerging church and asked really searching questions about where the church in the UK was going. They were supposed to be identical!

Over the next few weeks conversations will take place about whether and how it will happen when the Assembly caravan lands in Blackpool next year.

Assembly review

Suddenly Day one in the Baptist Assembly house became packing up and hitting the road for home...

It went really well - at least the bit I was in. As co-host of Prism, I hardly left Hall A except to sleep and eat curries with mates - it was fab.

Prism went really well - actually vastly better than I was anticipating. I was working with a great team - Ruth, Amie, James, Nick, Aiden, Ed and Sam with cameo appearances by Guido and Diwari, - excellent bible study facilitators - Juliet, James (again - he's so versatile), Gareth, Matt, Wale and Adam - and special guests on each evening. So thanks to them all for making it all go so well.

We had an average turn-out of 130 each morning and evening, except on Friday, the first night, which was less (though more than I'd expected - but then I tend to err a little on the gloomy side).

Every evening was different, full of bright ideas and God moments - everyone breaking bread for everyone and sharing with friend and stranger alike on the Friday, the intense prayer of Saturday evening when the Spirit was heavy on the shoulders of the saints and the glorious joy of diwari singing the Lord's calling over newly-accredited ministers; and so many more.

I wonder if it will happen next year...

Day one in the baptist assembly house...

(read in strong Newcastle accent) day one in the baptist assembly house and the housemates seem to have negotiated the first night without mishap and make a 7am breakfast with a smile on their faces.

Assembly day one (you can drop the accent now) and everything has gone well. Prism is set up - just the zones to build today and the only hitch so far is that I haven't got enough t-joints to put my prison cell together using plastic waste pipe so we'll need an outing to a plumbers' merchant this morning.

The team is assembling and in good heart. I think it's going to be a blast. If you're in Brighton, at a loose end, come and join us.

Having built the venue, I'll be spending some time this morning wrestling with Romans 8 for tomorrow morning's Bible Study. I have to put the whole chapter in context and give the delegates something to think about and apply to one of six issues in 8 minutes - no pressure there then.

Been listening to Blonde Redhead's latest album. Called 23 (pronounced: two three) it's a gem. Echoes of sixties powerpop, even a moment of Althea and Donna's Uptown topranking (anyone remember that 70s classic?!) but the band they reminded me most of is the British indie outfit from the mid-90s called Lush - the sweeping guitars and synths and delicate female vocals. Check it out, they're well worth it.

conference report (take 2)

One of the problems keeping the momentum going following our church conference is that we have so few opportunities for extended conversations in the normal run of church life. That, of course, is the reason we had the conference!

But we've identified a clutch of issues to raise at the next church meeting which will hopefully set the agenda for the two or three church meetings after that. I guess my hope is that by the end of the year - sooner preferably - we will have made refinements to the the way we do belonging, discipleship and leadership that will enable us to be more effective in our mission.

I'm off to Brighton at the weekend for the Baptist assembly - an important gathering of our clan which I'm looking forward to. I'm co-hosting Prism, the alternative strand, for the second and final time and am expecting it to be even better than last year.

I'm reading C J Sansom's third Matthew Shardlake novel - Sovereign - which is a wonderfully intricate tale of plots against the king at the fag end of Henry VIII's reign. I've also been reading some papers on meals in the ancient world from an SBL seminar hosted by Philip Harland. In particular two papers by Dennis E Smith have reminded how central the meal table was to the formation of Christian identity - and raised a stack more questions about the size and organisation of early Christian communities. Great stuff which you'll find on Philip Harland's website if you're interested: www.philipharland.com/meals/GrecoRomanMealsSeminar.htm.

Breakfast chat

I've just had breakfast with Les Issac - founder of Street Pastors, prolific traveller and one of those people who regularly sits with senior politicians and police officers and yet seems entirely untainted by it. I should add that I wasn't alone; there were 15 or so of us gathered at a regular inter-church breakfast.

He spoke briefly about a prayer event he's organising to seek God in relation to the recent spate of gun and knife crimes in south London. He asked whether anyone had a word from the Lord to share on that occasion. That always sets me thinking - is God going to say something new and startlingly original or is he going to remind us of our calling as his people in this great city?

I felt him reminding me that we are called to be a people of peace, shalom; in a world of violence we are to be a people who live together in peace and make peace in the communities in which we live.

Peace is an essential building block of community. At it's most basic, it's knowing that I will be safe in the company of my brothers and sisters in church, that if I share difficult things, I'll not be shouted at, bullied or put down. Sadly, of course, that isn't always the case. All too often churches are places where those with the loudest voices and biggest personalities get their way, wielding unhelpful influence over the lives of those around them.

So maybe our first calling in the light of these terrible events in our city is to recommit ourselves to living at peace with one another.

Peace, of course, in the bible is more than just the absence of conflict - though that's an essential first step - it's also about the presence of wholeness and well-being, right relationships with God and one another. And, most crucially, it's about seeking the blessing of that shalom for our neighbours, working for their good, for their shalom, ensuring that the widest numbers possible get a taste of God's agenda for them.

So in communities wracked by violence, it's about being a peace-making presence, a people who offer different options for young people, support for parents, a place of safety and belonging for all. It's also about using our resources to create social capital in our neighbourhoods through skills training, job creation, offering second, third and fourth chances to those who've messed up and want a shot at starting their lives over.

Where are the churches who are doing this?

Conference report (take 1)

Our church conference went really well yesterday. Pretty well everyone who signed up to come, turned up and one or two extras showed up as well. There was a good, constructive and cooperative spirit about our conversations.

Over the morning we talked about the changing face of our town and rather the static profile of the church. We looked at who lived in our immediate neighbourhood and how they compared to the average attender of church. We also looked at what God says about us - using the opening and closing of Romans as our launch pad. Around two short presentations, we had lots of small group work and just before lunch we spent a good chunk in plenary session feeding back conclusions and questions.

After lunch, we did workshops on belonging, discipleship and leadership where the ministry team floated a key new idea about each area and groups chewed them over. We rounded the day off with an exploration of emerging church and a suggestion about how inherited church and emerging church here could constructively and creatively dialogue together.

Most people went home with a smile on their faces.

I went home to prepare a sermon for this morning which, on the back of yesterday, went really well!

who in God's name are we?

John makes a couple of astute observations (as ever) in his comment on yesterday's post.

Yes, we're all bored with church - bored with the structures, the pussy-footing around people's sensibilities, the gathering to sing dull and pretty anodyne songs and especially the apparent lack of connection between people.

The trouble is, church is the way most Christians find any sense of who they are in God. John's second comment is true up to a point. Some Christians do look to me and the rest of ministry team for their take on God. Others look at what we're doing with a mixture of horror and contempt - but that just keeps us humble!

I think one of one of my main hopes for our conference tomorrow is that it helps generate a sense of identity for us a church that isn't based on having been around for a generation or more. If we have any identity as Christians - something we're exploring tomorrow sociologically and theologically - it's derived from our relationship with God.

I'll be sharing a few thoughts from the opening and closing of Romans that look at our identity in terms of being a holy people, called by God, adopted as his children and created family in his Spirit. But we remain tribal, people who have different tastes, interests, social places and cultural and educational backgrounds.

Paul wrote Romans to a very tribal church, made up of Jews and Gentiles, slaves and free people, a few rich and a lot of poor, folk who'd been Christians a long time, others who were recent converts, some who'd been Rome forever, others who'd just arrived or returned following the lifting the expulsion order Claudius issued in the late 40s.

So the letter has a lot to say to us. and the first thing is 'let's be honest about who we are, guys, so we can make an effort to get along and get to know each other - after all, we are brothers and sisters in Jesus.'

So as we ask the question tomorrow - who in God's name are we? - I'm looking forward to a spirited discussion and the drawing of some conclusions we can take into the future.

Leading from below

I don't know if others are having this trouble or whether it's a London thing or is unique to us, but we're having real difficulty recruiting and retaining 'leaders'.

I think a major part of the problem is that people aren't sure what's required of them when they are asked to consider it. There's an assumption by an older generation that everyone knows what's involved and an assumption by younger people that it's going to be dull and anyway they haven't got the time even to consider it.

The time thing is an issue - people have less of it because they work longer hours, commute further and have other things they need to attend to (cooking, eating, spending time with family, friends, work colleagues, keeping fit, getting entertained - all of which are important).

So, what to do? Answers on a postcard, please...

The idea I'm mulling over at the moment is turning the way we do leadership on its head (and perhaps bringing it more into line with the New Testament). Instead of looking for people who are not too busy in church and getting them to stand for general leadership roles (the diaconate) and then find them a specialism once they've got used to meeting every month with a bunch of strangers, let's look around the church and see where people are already exercising leadership.

There are lots of them in various areas of the church's life - home groups, kids work of all kinds, building maintenance, technical support on Sundays. There's a small army of people doing jobs and taking initiative in order to do those efficiently. Some of them are even organising small groups to get those jobs done. Now, if that's not leadership, then I'm not sure what is.

I know we want something terribly spiritual - to do with praying and discerning the voice of God and spending hours talking about deep and exalted things. Well, that can be somewhat over-rated. I assume that people doing any role in the church are praying, seeking to discover how God wants them to do it and learning with others about God and how to serve better in this particular role.

Sometimes I wonder if wanting to do something 'spiritual' is actually a cover for not wanting to do anything difficult that might involve relationships and hard work in partnership with others. I don't want to sound unduly cynical (why change the habit of a lifetime I hear you say...?!) but I wonder if we've made leadership harder than it needs to be just so we look desperately important. I wonder if it doesn't just make us look desperate.

So, I'm suggesting to the good folk of our church on Saturday that we do leadership from below. We look at where people are already exercising leadership, recognize what they're doing, get along side them to see if we can resource them in any way to do what they're doing better and then help them recruit others to work with them in a team - a group of experienced people and folk being discipled into a particular role.

I look forward to people's response.

Getting to grips with leadership

John asks in what way Kate was prophetic on Sunday evening. Quite simply she spoke directly into people's lives and addressed a couple of issues we're facing as a church with God's Word. That's as good a definition of prophetic as I know.

Meanwhile, getting ready for the conference, I've been lining up sandwiches for 180 - a great task to have!

I've also been reflecting on leadership - especially in the light of 1 Corinthians 3. More thoughts later but for now I'm pondering what leadership is about in the light of the three pictures of the church Paul uses in the chapter.

As God's field or garden or (better) agricultural enterprise, leaders are about creating the environment in which things can grow; as God's building project, leaders are about arranging materials for people to build with; and as God's temple, leaders are about keeping the community focused and holy.

I've just read a very good paper by Tom wright on the atonement. It's signposted from his web page (www.ntwrightpage.com). Called 'The Cross and the Caricatures', it engages with some recent discussion on the issue of penal substitution and draws some very sensible conclusions. The best of them is that many evangelicals fail to read the very Bible on which they claim to base their doctrines. As ever with Wright it's trenchantly written, tightly argued and by and large pretty convincing.

It hasn't helped me get ready for the conference, however.

Speaking to our hearts

We had a fantastic day yesterday rounded off by a visit of Kate Coleman, the current BUGB president, who was electrifying and prophetic.

This coming Saturday is our church conference at which we're aiming to conclude our conversations about belonging, discipleship and leadership and set the broad parameters of the course the church will be taking over the next couple of years.

Kate's visit was the perfect opener to our gathering. Boldly calling us to step up to another level, she showed us our lives through the life of Moses and spoke prophetically into our individual situations and our life together as God's people.

The day had kicked off with Gareth Wilde from BMS World Mission focusing on the need for courage to cross barriers in mission. Talking about his recent experiences in Lebanon, he showed how Christians of courage are engaged in reconstruction following the war, offering the love of God to people of all faiths and none.

It promises to be a busy week. I'll keep you posted...

Preach it Bono

There's a great youTube clip over on Sean Winter's blog (http://seanthebaptist.typepad.com/) featuring Bono's acceptance speech at the NAACP awards ceremony earlier this year.

It's vintage Bono.

'True religion will not let us fall asleep in the comfort of our freedom,' he says. 'Love your neighbour is not a piece of advice, it's a command. That means in the global village we're going to have to love a whole lot more people - that's what that means.'

Earlier, he'd described Martin Luther King as 'a man who refused to hate because he knew love would do a better job.'

Once he hits his stride, he says: 'the poor are where God lives...God is with the poor and he is with us if we are with them. This is not a burden, it's an adventure.' The words have a liturgical as well as rhetorical rhythm. And I love that last sentence. Our lives with God in mission among the poor, in sharing what we have, in pooling resources and energy, insights and hard labour is an adventure not a burden.

Check it out - it's great.

Prayer's strange ways

I'm now focusing on our church conference - in ten days time - and Prism - the alternative stream of the Baptist Assembly in Brighton over the May Bank Holiday Weekend that I am co-ordinating with others.

In fact, I've had a good day lining people up to be involved in various of the evening celebrations at Prism - as well as raising last minute queries about the layout of the venue.

Mostly today, though, I've been catching up with an old friend and talking about prayer. She's doing a project for the 24/7 prayer boiler room in Guildford and asked me about any really great times of prayer I could remember, times when I saw God move in a particular way. I mentioned one or two things and then told her a story that I nearly included in Building A Better Body, but couldn't find the words for at the time.

It concerns the time back in the mid-90s when Britain was swept by the so-called Toronto Blessing. Our church wanted some of whatever God was doing. So we had a week of meetings in the early autumn - it must have been September or October 1993 or 94. Each evening we met to pray and see what happened. We sang, looked at the Bible and waited on God. Some people fell over; others brought words of prophecy and insight; all of us felt God come close at various times through the week.

I'm not sure what we were expecting, but I don't think it happened (if that makes sense). But we ended the week feeling it had been worthwhile.

A couple of weeks later, a young woman, Ellie, expecting her first child, died and the church was rocked to its core. I tell this story in Building A Body. In many ways this story marks my time at that church and has shaped my ministry since more than I probably realise.

Looking back on those events, I see God working in that week of prayer to prepare us for the wave of grief that broke over us later that autumn. I don't think I'd have coped if we hadn't had those moments of closeness with God; I don't think the church would have come together in the wake of the tragedy but for our week of praying.

I wish I'd put the story in the book because in many ways it illustrates one of the things that church is about - being there for one another in the presence of our awesome, mysterious God.

Seminar at Spring Harvest

Spring Harvest went really well - including my seminar on the church. A good group turned up despite the sunshine and we talked a lot about why people struggle with church and how we can help them find a place.

In the course of the seminar we drew up an ecclesial minimum - a brief list of things a group has to have to be church. Here's what we came up with - see what you think:

The presence of Jesus
teaching and learning
sacraments - especially communion
relationships
catholicity - that is relationships with other groups of Christians (I think this one came up because it had been the aspect of the church that was the theme of the previous day!)
Able to face tough times as well as good ones

Worship did not appear because I ruled it out before I set them compiling their lists in small groups. I suggested that the early Christians didn't meet to worship because that was a 24/7 activity along the lines of Romans 12:1. My full argument about this is in chapter 2 of Building A Better Body.

What I was really impressed by was that no one suggested that any of these activities had to happen in a special building or involve large numbers of people.

That gives me hope for the future of the church.

Off to the seaside

Off to Spring Harvest in the morning for five days on the pastoral team.

The weather forecast for Skegness is sunny and warm - a first for us up there! So we're looking forward to a good week with a great team.

back blogging next week....

meeting Jesus

On the road to Emmaus this morning - a good place to be. We were definitely joined by Jesus who came to walk with us and share in our conversation as he did on that first Easter afternoon.

I was struck again by how gentle and unassuming Jesus was. I'd have bounced up behind Cleopas and his companion (almost certainly, I reckon, Mary his wife) and said 'ta! da! it's me!!' but Jesus didn't. He quietly joined them and listened in to their conversation.

Have you noticed the glorious irony in Luke 24:24 where they tell Jesus that though people have heard stories, no one has seen him alive!

I love the way Jesus handles this. He listens, allowing Cleopas and Mary to tell him how they feel and what they think the events of the past months and especially the past few days might mean. He doesn't leap in to correct but gives them space to tell him what they think is going on.

I wonder how we often we do this with people we're chatting to about faith. We evangelicals are so quick to get to the answers, we ride roughshod over the questions. People might 'get the gospel', but often they don't hear it because the people telling them obviously don't care enough about to listen to their concerns and struggles before leaping in with a spiritual band aid.

Jesus did.

When he'd heard, he shared his view of events. We know that his interpretation is the accurate one - but Cleopas and Mary would have had to weigh it up. Yes, some of it would have felt familiar; Jesus had indeed talked about death and resurrection - but they didn't really get what he was on about (we are all slow learners - patience is the key fruit evangelists need to manifest!).

Clearly, they wanted to hear more because they urged him to stay with them. It was at the meal table - so often in Luke the place of revelation - that Jesus completes his showing them the truth of what he's been sharing by showing them that it is Jesus - alive and eating - who is offering the explanations. Then he vanishes, leaving them to work out the implications and enormity of what's just happened.

That's why I love this story.

But I love it too because we're often on the Emmaus road, feeling unsure, battered, baffled by life, searching for the scraps of our hopes in the debris of our sins and failures. And Jesus joins us gently offering a listening ear and sharp observations about life, the world and everything. And our hearts begin to burn and we want him to stay. As he speaks, we know it's him - not just a vague presence, but the risen saviour and lord, come to our aid, come to show us his hands and side, come to point the way to the renewal of all things and invite us to be his partners in the adventure.

Good Friday thoughts

Here's a thought prompted by Jars of Clay Liquid, the Vigilantes of Love When you're blinded by the Light and 2 Corinthians 5:21...

No one noticed that first Good Friday – except a handful of angry priests, a rent-a-mob crowd and a few baffled soldiers on crucifixion detail. It was just an ordinary day in the Roman Empire, not written up in the annals of the Caesars and histories of the elites – no one pays attention to obscure corners and unimportant people.

Likewise, today so many are oblivious to its significance – the grace of God slips in under the radar; God reconciling the world to himself and no one notices; Jesus who knew no sin, quietly and resolutely becoming sin for us and the world so that we might have a shot at righteousness – and the world carries on shopping and gardening and planning BBQs if the weather holds

But for us who are paying attention, he invites us to come and see, to gaze in wonder at these events, to bring our fears, pretence and sorrows and find them melting away in his embrace.

This is the one thing, the one thing that I know – he didn’t die for nothing; he died for me and you; he died to put things right; to reverse the unravelling of creation caused by human sin and rebellion; he died for the small sins – our greed, bitterness and unkind words; he died for the big sins – the slave trade, the holocaust, the world system that means someone dies of poverty every three seconds.

Somehow – in a way only God can fathom and organise – in that obscure corner of the Roman empire, a man on a stick was God putting things right; Jesus became sin – with all its ugly consequences – so that we might become like Jesus – the righteousness of God and part of his wave for putting things right breaking across the world.

Easter thoughts

I love Easter; it gives us an opportunity to be creative in ways normal weekends don't. So over the next four days we're having a tanebrae, a reflective Good Friday gathering and two services on Sunday, one of which promises to be very different from anything we've done in previous years (though Jonathan is piloting that one...)

Thinking of fresh angles, looking for film clips and music helps one to appreciate the core Easter message in a new way.

Tomorrow at our lunch time service I'm reflecting on how much the gospels show us Jesus praying in the run up to his arrest and what a contrast that is with the disciples, especially Peter. Jesus is calm and focused, Peter is all over the place. Jesus is able to embrace the unfolding reality and achieve God's purpose in it; Peter is overwhelmed by events, taken by surprise and unable to get his act together. And it's all down to prayer. Simple and hugely difficult at the same time.

I've found some really good stuff in the Jonny Baker Doug Gay collection Alternative Worship and am using a great Vigilantes of Love Song - When you're blinded by the Light - as part of Good Friday's reflection. Having lamented how pear-shaped his love-life has gone, Bill Mallonee sings 'Lord, show to me your face/Lord, show to me your skin/Lord show to me the places/ where the nails went in/gonna crawl in there with all my fears/introduce them to my pretends/ introduce 'em to my sorrows/who've become the best of friends.' Wonderful.

I'm using Jars of Clay's Liquid as the call to worship and a Steve Stockman poem - so there's plenty to help people think about the cross from a variety of fresh angles. Let's hope they do.

I couldn't find a way of including anything from the new Arcade Fire album, however - maybe next year.

Introducing Roxburgh

Stuart's comment about Alan Roxburgh made me think an introduction is in order for those of you who haven't come across him.

Roxburgh is a Canadian Baptist and, I think, one of the key missional church thinkers working today. Author of a number of books - one of which, Crossing the Bridge, is available free, gratis and for nothing at the following website: http://www.percept.info/pacific/PDF/CrossingBridge.pdf and is well worth getting into.

The Misisonary Congregation, Leadership and Liminality (Trinity Press International 1997) is essential reading for understanding our calling as ministers who offer missional leadership. The book at just 70 pages is fabulously over-priced and yet curiously worth every penny.

The Sky is Falling: Leaders Lost in Transition (ACI Publishing 2005) is a perceptive and engaging discussion of the nature of the changes we face in culture and church and how leaders could be responding to them. It's available only from the missional website Allelon, where you'll also find a ton of his essays and articles by a range of other stimulating thinkers. You'll find it all at http://www.allelon.org/

He's also written - with colleague Fred Romanuk - The Missional Leader: Equipping your church to reach a changing world (Jossey-Bass, 2006 in the Leadership Network series) which I am working my way through at the moment.

There's lots to like about Roxburgh. He's widely and well-read - in particular, he analyses the changing nature of the world we inhabit through business books and sociology texts and not just theologians. He's as likely to cite Beck, Castells, Giddens and Handy as he is Gunton, Hauerwas and Willimon.

But I guess the reason I have warmed to him afresh over recent weeks is his emphasis that those who want the church to change completely and those who created the churches we're mostly all part of need to talk to each other. The church of the future will be an evolution from the church of the present because the church in all times needs to embody core and key Kingdom values.

And he also stresses the need for leaders to look at where God is at work in and on the edge of our congregations so that we might get behind what God's already doing. Often leaders spend their time trying to refocus the congregation, move folk away from what they're doing to things we want them to do. Roxburgh urges us to look and listen and recognise and support what's already happening. Our role becomes one of creating the environment for mission to happen rather than coming up with detailed blueprints for that mission.

Finally, he has an unnerving singularity of vision - something he shares with Michael Frost in his new book Exiles: Living Missionally in a Post-Christian Culture (Hendrickson/Strand 2006). He argues that the conversation about how we get from the old world to the new world is over because whether we like it or not we are living in that new world. Our task is to map its shape and work out how to be church in it. At the same, however, he stresses that the place we find we find ourselves in is not our final destination. this is why the metaphor of liminality recurs in his writings. We are truly people living between times, not just theologically, but also sociologically.

Do check him out.

It's good to talk

Just returned from recording a programme at Premier Christian Radio with Jeff Lucas and Ruth Dearnley which was fun. I was there to talk about - and frankly, rather mercilessly plug - my new book.

Called Building a Better Body: A Good Church Guide, it's published by Authentic and is in the shops next week. It's the third incarnation of a book that started life as Struggling to Belong in 1998, doubled in size to become Why Bother with Church at the turn of the millennium and has been mildly revised and updated and given a sparkly new cover for this outing.

I'm quite pleased with it and found myself warming to its central theme as I chatted with Jeff and Ruth. That theme is that leaders of churches must take those who struggle with church much more seriously, listen to their concerns, make room for their gifts and interests; and that strugglers must find ways to remain engaged with church.

The reason I'm sticking with this theme - much to my surprise, I have to say - is that Alan Roxburgh's The Sky is Falling: Leaders lost in Transition takes a similar line. Roxburgh has been hugely influential on my thinking over the past decade. His The Missionary Congregation, Leadership and Liminality is one of the books that has defined my understanding of my ministry and the call of the church. If you've not read it, I urge you to.

In the The Sky is Falling, Roxburgh talks about liminals and emergents - which he defines really helpfully - needing to work and walk together in order to create churches that work for all concerned. He argues everyone struggles with the world of discontinuous and perpetual change we are living in - but for different reasons. Only through dialogue with each other will we create churches that embody Kingdom values to our neighbours and colleagues at work.

As well as Arcade Fire, I've been listening to Josh Groban this week. He's an American singer that my younger daughter has introduced me to. He's intriguing, half his stuff is in Spanish but there are a couple of English songs that are absolute blinders. He sings big emotional ballads that pack a punch. I've also been reliving my youth - well, childhood actually! - listening to the Doors. What a band! And I've got tickets to see the Who in June - how cool is that?

stopping the traffik

We had an excellent Freedom Day yesterday. A group of us marched from Wilberforce's oak in Keston in chains to the High street in Bromley where another group of us were manning a stall highlighting the issue of children being traffiked into the cocoa harvest.

As well as selling fair trade chocolate, we were giving away free and getting people to sign the Stop the Traffik petition.

All in all, it went really well. But I am absolutely cream-crackered this morning (I also preached yesterday morning and led the worship at church yesterday evening, so it was a pretty full day).
Still finding Tobias Jones' book on Utopia's fascinating and jammed full of insights into community and the shape of contemporary culture. In particular his observations about Christians and Christian teaching are provocative (in a good way). I'll blog properly about it later in the week.

More from Acts

Continuing our journey in Acts, my student is meant to taking us to Thessalonica (17:1-9), but sadly he's taken to his bed with a heavy cold instead. So it falls to me to wrestle with this lovely story.

I have been greatly helped in this by an excellent article by a baptist NT scholar called Justin K Hardin who teaches at Oklahoma Baptist University. His essay 'Decrees and Drachmas at Thessalonica: An illegal assembly in Jason's house' (New Testament Studies 52, 2006 and available on-line at his page on his university's website) makes sense of this story in a way the commentaries up till now haven't.

His argument is that Jason and the other believers are the ones on trial in Acts 17:6-9, not Paul and Silas in absentia - which is kinda obvious if you read it but most of the commentaries suggest it's Paul and Silas who are being tried here. More importantly, Hardin argues that the law Jason has breached has to do with voluntary associations. Because associations were associated with political trouble-making, Julius Caesar and Augustus after him enacted decrees outlawing them unless they had dispensation from the senate in Rome.

Hardin suggests that Jason was prosecuted for holding an illegal voluntary association in his home and was fined and effectively bound over to keep the peace (i.e. don't do it again on pain of losing this sum of money). For this reason Paul and Silas - though notice not Timothy - left pretty sharpish, so as not to put Jason at more risk than he already faced.

It's the first article I've read that tackles this issue of Rome's antipathy to political associations head-on and it's full of good things (if anyone knows of any others, please let me know...).

I'm reminded of the situation in many parts of the world where the followers of Jesus meet in homes and face the wrath of civil authorities if they are discovered. I'm impressed by Jason's commitment, too. He puts his liberty and resources on the line for the travelling missionaries and his Lord, so that the work of spreading the good news of Jesus can continue.

Of course, what this story emphasises again to me is that the followers of Jesus were not seen as a religious movement by their contemporaries but rather as a political one. Jesus is seen as a rival king to Caesar by those who dragged Jason and his friends in front of the beak, suggesting that this had been part of Paul's preaching in the synagogues and elsewhere.

The other thing Hardin's paper does is help with assessing the length of Paul's stay in Thessalonica. Read quickly, Acts suggests that Paul stays barely a month. But in Philippians 4:16 and in 1 Thessalonians, Paul gives the impression that his stay was longer. It seems clear that there is a big time gap between 17:4 and 17:5. It must have taken some time for the jealousies described to form. So many weeks probably elapsed between the missionaries initial preaching, their growing success at attracting converts (the list hinted at in 17:4 wouldn't necessarily have come at once) and the head of steam that built up behind the opposition.

But even more interesting is that Jason is introduced very abruptly. It is clear that when he enters the story in the second half of v5, he is already hosting a gathering of Jesus followers and his neighbours knew it. indeed, he is seen as a key leader in the new movement - hence the raid on his home. Both Roger Gehring in his book on house church and mission and Rainer Riesner's tome on Pauline Chronology make the same case.

Now what angle do I take on Sunday....? There's a sermon in all that, somewhere.

Christian groups in Acts (part 2)

I'm back from church now....

I think Stuart is right to raise questions about how we should see the house gatherings in acts 2 and 4 - of course, I'd add that the Jerusalem community is odd because it continued meeting at the temple as well as in homes.

we can be very sloppy in our use of labels and i think we need to be really careful if we are going to learn useful lesson from Acts for us in our context as we try to create and maintain communities of people who want to follow Jesus.

This morning we were looking at Acts 16 and the arrival of the gospel in Philippi. The believers met in the home of the richest woman (Lydia) convert. is this a good model? It seemed to work well for Paul. he used it in many of the cities he evangelised. we, of course, wouldn't dream of adopting it as a model for us today - though I'm not really sure it's any worse than any of the models we do use!

There is a fluidity about the movement of Jesus followers at this time, any structure appears to have been contingent on what was needed at the time. so when the leaders of the groups in Jerusalem and Antioch met in 49AD(ish) as recorded in Acts 15, they were trying to thrash out the answer to a key question - did you need to be a Jew to be a fully-fledged Jesus follower? The answer they arrived at was 'no' - Jews and Gentiles were welcome on an equal footing.

I'm not sure what kind of contemporary gathering this meeting is like - a church meeting? an association gathering? BU council? It's often described as the first church council - but was it anything like the gathering at Nicea or Chalcedon? I don't think so.

So, Acts 15 contains useful principles for us in settling differences, in deciding issues that might divide us unnecessarily, in moving forward together, accepting one another as equals whatever our cultural or racial background. In terms of structure and organisation, I'm not sure it's any help to us at all.

Does any of this make sense? I'll return to it in the week - and I haven't forgotten some mature thoughts about Tobias Jones' fascinating book on utopia; they'll come this week, too

Christian groups in Acts

Stuart is right to raise the question of terminology in Acts (see the post 'Shoved into Action' and Stuart's comment). In particular, I am increasingly uncomfortable using the term 'church' to describe any of the groups we encounter there.

The reason for this is simple (though the explanation sometimes gets a bit convoluted). When we use the word 'church' we interpret it with 1500 years of Christian history in these Islands where 'church' has come to mean a pretty fixed community, with a structure of belonging and leadership, a geographical location and boundaries that mean it can be easily identified by friend and stranger alike.

None of these things were true of the groups of Jesus followers that we encounter in Acts. They didn't call themselves Christians (the Romans did that - look at E. A. Judge or Bruce Winter for the evidence there) and the term ekklesia which they settled on as a label for their gatherings was not a religious badge but a political or business one, a label drawn from the world of associations so prevalent in the Roman Empire.

This means, at the very least, when the outside world looked at the gatherings of the followers of Jesus, they weren't sure whether they were seeing something political, something like a network of like-minded business people or something religious. Of course, the likelihood is that they didn't make such neat separations in their thinking as we do.

So when we get to Acts 15 and the meeting that took place in Jerusalem, what are we seeing? And how would other folk in Jerusalem have seen it? I think what we're looking at is two very loose groups of Jesus followers - one more settled and more structured and resident in Jerusalem; the other more fluid but increasingly taking shape and resident in Antioch. I'm not sure anyone else is there; I'm not sure anyone else is invited.

It's not that others weren't interested. If I am right about Galatians (see the introduction and a couple of Digging Deeper sections of my Crossway Bible Guide for my view), then Paul wrote it ahead of the meeting in Jerusalem because the issue of whether Gentiles needed to be circumcised to be followers of Jesus was affecting the believers in Lystra, Derbe, Pisidian Antioch and the other places in Galatia where Paul and Barnabas had planted groups on their first missionary adventure (Acts 13:1-14:28). And Paul returns to those places - interestingly with Silas as part of his team; Silas, one of the prophets from Jerusalem sent to Antioch to explain the outcome of the conference - to report that what he'd said in his letter to them was what was agreed at the conference in Jerusalem.

So, I'm not sure that we can take our baptist local congregation and association language and place neatly over the Acts story and expect to see a fit that makes any sense.

I've got to go to church now, so I'll finish this later....

What's belief like?

Last night I started reading Tobias Jones' Utopian Dreams (the night before I'd finished Bruce Longenecker's excellent the Lost Letters of Pergamum)

Jones' book is a travelogue of his journey to a number of intentional communities in the UK and Italy - the two places he knows best - in a bid to see whether such alternative communities offer a way of living in today's world.

I've only read the introduction so far but it contained a sentence which I thought cast interesting light on our mission as intentional disciples in today's world.

Having said that he grew up at a time when there were micro-beliefs but no macroscopic, cosmic creed, he said: 'I was fascinated simply to find out what it feels like to believe in something, actually to believe that the world could get better rather than worse.'

That set me thinking. And will set me blogging once I've had time to see where my thinking leads. I share it as a thought for Sunday. have a good one.

Shoved into action

Have you noticed the frequency in Acts of God taking the initiative? This shouldn't surprise me really, but I confess it still does. It's why our current morning series is called shoved by the Spirit because I like those early followers of Jesus needed a good push from time to time to get on with the task at hand.

In the story of the conversion of Cornelius, Peter's still speaking when the Holy Spirit falls on the assembled company. In fact when Peter is reporting this to the leaders in Jerusalem, he says, 'as I began to speak, the Holy spirit came on them.' As a result of the Spirit's action, peter had no choice but to accept these Gentiles into the church.

It's the same at Antioch - people (probably Hellenistic Jews converted on the day of Pentecost, part of the group influenced by Stephen) shared the gospel with Gentiles and they believed. When Barnabas arrived possibly with instructions to calm the excesses, he sees the grace of God at work and gets stuck in (11:23).

So when we get to Acts 15 and the gathering in Jerusalem, experience tells them that the Gentiles are coming into God's people because they are responding to the Gospel and the Holy Spirit is bringing them alive entirely separately from the cultural boundary markers that have distinguished God's people from everyone else for a thousand years.

It was a momentous change

I can't help thinking that we facing a pretty momentous change at the moment - certainly in the relationship of the church to western culture. Christendom is decaying rapidly. The church is an increasingly marginal presence in our culture, jockeying for a place with a load of other beliefs and philosophies all clamouring for the attention of an increasingly apathetic populace.

Where's God? What's the Spirit up to? Which conversation is he going to rudely interrupt by falling on everyone in the room/pub/cafe/cinema/street corner/shop/whatever?

The other awkward issue for a baptist about Acts 15 is that it's the leaders of the church who gather to thrash out the response to this new situation they find themselves in. 15:2, 4, 6, 13, 22, 23 indicate that it's apostles and elders discerning God's leading and communicating that to the church. I guess it would be unrealistic to gather everyone together - you'd never find a time they could all make, not everyone would feel able to speak, not everyone who wanted to speak would get a hearing.

So, I guess this is a good model for us. Have the leaders thrash things out and then communicate it to the rest of the congregation. there's a hint in 15:22 that the decision was owned by the whole church in Jerusalem as they seem to endorse the sending of the letter and then the church at Antioch were over the moon at the outcome (15:31). It's interesting that we think of this as a council of the whole church but in fact it was a dispute between Jerusalem and Antioch - though as Paul's letter to the Galatians (written, I think, just before Paul sets off to the meeting - see my Crossway Bible Guide for justification of this) it affected every church that Paul planted.

Catching up

I'm becoming a once a week blogger - bad boy!

Listening to Arcade Fire's new album, Neon Bible. Can't decide whether I like it as much as Funeral, but it's got some storming tracks on it.

I've also been thinking about our church conference in April when our discussions about membership and belonging will reach some sort of conclusion. At the moment I can't really get my head round how this is going to work but I'm sure inspiration will strike.

I've been reading Bruce Longenecker's The Lost Letters of Pergamum which is surprisingly convincing and very informative and some stuff on the social position of early Christians, particularly poverty levels in Pauline communities. An article by Steve Friesen in JSNT is worth checking out if you're interested in these things - though I think he's a little too prone to reduce everything to economics and dismiss discussions of social status. He'd align himself more with Justin Meggitt than Wayne Meeks, I suspect. It's a fascinating area of NT study.

This Sunday we'll be looking at the Jerusalem Conference as told to us by Luke in Acts 15. I'll be suggesting to our people that we need to face the changing circumstances of our ministry and mission with the same boldness as everyone in Luke's story did. In particular, just as it was the Jewish Christians, the in-group, who had to change to accommodate the late-coming Gentiles, so too we have to change to welcome those outside the church into our communities. Often we expect new Christians to take on our culture - derived more from the 1950s than the bible - along with our version of the gospel.

I've also been putting together the Spring edition of Talk, the Mainstream magazine. This one is devoted to missional church - what is it? And it features an interview with Jonathan Edwards, an excellent piece of Baptist church planting by Stuart Murray Williams and great reflections on Christian youth work by Clare Hooper. A rich and heady mix!

Actually, I quite enjoy editing it - but the week when I put it together (three a year) get to be a bit fraught and hectic.

I'm also loving the new Kaiser Chief's album.

So, it's been a good, though somewhat busy week

Relations with the powers that be

As our group of churches staggers into a partnership with our local authority, I've been reflecting on Paul's relationship with power.

We're used to thinking of him being arrested for causing a breach of the peace - in Thessalonica, for example (Acts 17:1-9) - but what about him using a relationship with the powers-that-be to further his mission.

This Sunday I'm preaching on the first missionary journey in particular homing in on Paul and the proconsul Sergius Paullinus (Acts 13:4-12). It seems that there's good evidence that this Roman official had strong links not only on Cyprus where Paul meets him but more particularly in Pisidian Antioch and its environs. Certain inscriptions have been found that suggest a pretty firm and significant link over a number of generations (look at Rainer Riesner's thorough examination of the evidence in Paul's early Period: Chronology, Mission Strategy, Theology [Eerdmanns 1998] - I really hope he's working on a follow up on Paul's later period!)

So when we ask the question why did Paul go to Pisidian Antioch and the not the towns and cities nearer to Cyprus on his first missionary journey, one answer that many scholars suggest is that Sergius Paullus sent him on his way with letters of introduction from him to family members and others (including officials) in that city. It's possible that this accounts for the favourable reception from the Gentiles after Paul and Barnabas are rejected by the synagogue community.

It could account for why, when the Jewish community rejected them, Paul and Barnabas were not immediately arrested by the secular authorities for causing trouble, introducing foreign gods, disturbing the peace, etc. Does this and other experiences along the way also account for Paul's relatively sanguine attitude to the Empire in Romans 13? Though he believes unequivocally that Jesus is Lord, not Caesar, that the only empire that will last is Christ's not Nero's, he does seem to think that the secular authorities can hold the ring in a sinful world in a way that can be advantageous for the gospel.

So, can we find a model for our seeking partnership with local and national government in Paul? It's a nice thought. Perhaps all you biblical scholars can put me right!