Looking to God for the next leap forward

Today is a significant one for us at church. We are electing trustees for the next phase of the church's life. We have 11 good candidates and I hope they are all elected. Such a team will give us the depth and breadth of leadership we need for the next leap forward.

So we'll all be praying that we have a good meeting - lots of conversation and laughter, lots of sharing of wisdom and discerning of the mind of Christ - that will set the platform for where God wants to take us over the next few years.

A welcome focus on what ministry is about

There's as good a defence of Christian ministry as you're ever likely to read on the Daily Mail's website (yeah, I know, unlike me to think anything good could find its way there...!) It's by my friend George Pitcher and arises out of the killing of a parish priest in Gloucestershire recently. You can read it here.

Reflecting on the murder of John Studdards, George says: 'Christian ministry is about taking risks. The gospels demand it. Jesus Christ moved among the lowest of the low during his ministry, befriending and healing the mad, bad and dangerous to know. He spelled out that whatever his disciples did for the least in the world around them, they did for the Christ. And that’s true of today’s disciples, whether in lay or ordained ministry.'

And then he adds 'the dividing line between holiness and foolhardiness is so narrow as to be invisible'. That is a wonderful description of the nature of faith, the motive for mission, and a summary of our calling as witnesses for Christ. This is not about about taking risks because of bravado or because it gets us a reputation in the Christian ghetto. It's about walking faithfully alongside our Lord in the places he calls us to, with the people he draws alongside us. 

George also calls us to focus on what matters and not be sidetracked by debates about women bishops and sexuality - or whatever our particular denomination or stream is tearing itself apart over - or by noises off generated at the shallow end of society by noisy atheists. 

Our calling is to look at what Jesus did and do likewise. Full stop. It's advice worth heeding.

Keeping the rumour of God alive

Peter Oborne has a timely and wide-ranging piece in the Telegraph (here), charting a rise in church attendance in recent months.He suggests 'Their Christian values stand at an angle to the brash, thrill-seeking, instant consumer culture that has become dominant in Britain over the last half-century.' I hope so.

Oborne tells stories of churches attracting large numbers in the capital but admits that the picture elsewhere in the country is less buoyant. For me the most encouraging part of his story is that there is some evidence that locally rooted churches are seeing an increase in numbers as people seek something more than shopping as a source of purpose and values in life.

He argues that one reason why London might be bucking the trend is that there are fewer churches sharing ministers, so a minister or ministry team is able to focus on a single gathered community, able to create a welcoming and stimulating environment for people of all kinds. There could be something in this.

He acknowledges that a little upturn in numbers over recent months does not assuage the haemorrhage of people the church has suffered over the past generation. He cites the statistics, well known from Peter Brierley and Callum Brown, that show the scale of the collapse in church attendance since the 60s.

But it is encouraging that in the midst of austerity and consumerism the rumour of God is being kept alive and is drawing people who are seeking something deeper. And that something is not just a desire for a 'spiritual hour' on a Sunday morning. One and a half million people are engaged in volunteering activity through their local church; this is an army of people seeking to model different values in our me-first culture - and that has to be good thing.

Sniffing out influence

I've been chuckling today because I have appeared on the dessert menu or coffee course of a list of influential baptists. You can check it out here at Neil Brighton's blog (I don't appear until the comments kick in!). It's a good list - the dinner one, that is. But I share Paul Lavender's concern and would want to ask a broader question.

What do we mean by influence and where is that influence best felt? To be fair, Neil's post has come out of conversations about where the Baptist family in England (particularly) is going. We face times of austerity like everyone else and have to make choices about the use of resources. We also face declining numbers - not everywhere, but overall. There are also exciting things happening but these tend to be on the margins, in places where the centre of Baptist life isn't really looking. And they tend to be happenings that defy easy definition and corralling into tidy pigeon holes.

As a movement, we have tended to struggle with pioneers. How do we train them, how do we resource them and how do we give them time to explore and find new maps for our mission? Our current list of ministerial competencies doesn't seem to have much space for anything that doesn't look like church as we've done it for the past century. That clearly won't help us chart a way to mission for the current situation we face, let alone the future.

Our current models are all resource intensive - costly buildings, costly ministers, costly initiatives to attract people, costly technical specs for our outreach. Now, I am one of those costs - a minister who gets paid for it in a church that spends a small third world country's debt on our buildings. But I see the writing on the wall for us and all like us and we have got to find better, more organic ways of engaging with people in our communities; a way that puts the Kingdom before the empire (our empire that is).

So I have a feeling that influence is something that is going to emerge at the margins, probably from those margins that we're not paying any attention to. I have a feeling that what emerges that will be influential will, in the first instance, be very difficult to see or understand. The move of the Spirit and the emergence of the Kingdom tend to be somewhat shadowy and hard to pin down at first. They certainly do not lend themselves to easy measurement or categorisation. A bit like Jesus, really.

So, if I was going to name influential baptists, I'd begin with Peter Dominey and Ivan King and church from scratch precisely because it is so difficult to get a handle on what it is and yet it has the reek of authenticity, the aroma of the Kingdom. That'd be a good place to go an sniff.

Bursting at the seams at Messy Church

We had a wonderful messy church today. It was our third birthday, so we threw a party and nearly a hundred people turned up. This is the most we've had and is probably the most the hall can hold. There was a great party atmosphere, lots of good conversations and the sense that we were really connecting with a number of families for whom this is their only church.

Afterwards one mum who's not been coming for long, came and told us that it had been wonderful and that church should always be like this.

Then we had a good messy talk, using some DVD material from the Ugly Duckling company that seemed to work pretty well.

I think I'm learning through messy church that it is possible to do serious things in an all-age context and that we shouldn't be afraid to mix activities aimed at children and conversation between adults (which is what happens at a regular children's party, after all).

It bodes well for our continued thinking about neighbourhood groups and refocusing church on smaller units built around families.

I also discovered some blindingly good new music yesterday. it's by a band called afterlife parade, the brain child of singer-songwriter Quinn Erwin. They've released two EPs this year called respectively death and rebirth ans they are both really beautiful. The song, simple on the Death EP is one of the best songs I've heard all year. Both EPs are a collection of thoughtful, faith-questing songs. You can check them out here and download both EPs for under a tenner. That's got to be good.

Getting to grips with the vision thing to turn the world upside down

Here's the piece from our church magazine that hits the racks this Sunday - for those not given to read print media or not able to pick up a copy because of distance from the building (forgive the parochial nature of some of the references....)

George Bush senior famously intimated during an election campaign that he didn’t get the vision thing. The Queen on a visit to the London School of Economics in the autumn of 2008, as the credit crunch was sending global markets into free-fall, asked ‘why did no one see it coming?’ Both those issues came to the fore in responses to the disturbances on London’s streets in August. Why did no one see it coming and who has the vision to lead us to a better place for all our citizens? Such questions will rumble on through the coming months.

They were questions that were probably being asked, though in different terms, in Jesus’ day as people responded to economic injustice and occupation. They were certainly in the mind of Luke as he told the story not only of Jesus but also of his earliest followers. It’s that latter part of the story that we are going to pick up in the autumn to see what it might be saying to us at this time in our city.

In particular, we will be looking at the subject of vision. The Acts of the Apostles is built around a number of stories where God’s people saw, heard and responded to vision. Indeed, the story that Luke tells in this second volume is not the story of a well-drilled army of people working from a plan to take over the empire. Rather it is the story of how a ramshackle band of people who loved Jesus were led by a vision from heaven to share the good news about him across the world, to found communities shaped by his values and welcome any and everyone who came to explore what the life of God’s Kingdom might be like. So, this autumn we’re going to be exploring these vision passages in Acts because we too want to be people led by a vision from heaven.

Which brings us back to this summer on the streets of London and other cities around the UK. The Queen’s question is a good one and lots of people have been trying to answer it and will no doubt continue to do so. But for God’s people it’s the vision thing that matters. We are not called in the first instance to respond to a set of circumstances on the ground. We are called to respond to and live by a vision.

As Paul told Agrippa ‘I was not disobedient to the vision from heaven.’ That vision showed Paul who Jesus was and is and sent him on a life-long mission to share that Jesus with the Roman world. It led him to plant churches and proclaim the gospel in every city he visited. It led him to take up a great collection among the nations to take to the followers of Jesus living in poverty in Judea. And it led him to his death in Rome having first preached the gospel in that city for at last two years. Paul would not have been the man he became but for the vision from heaven.

And so it is with us: as we seek to be faithful disciples of Jesus in Bromley in 2011 and beyond we too need to see and hear and respond to the vision from heaven. All that we do as a church in seeking to embody the good news of Jesus in our lives and our activities needs to grow out of the vision from heaven.

The vision with which Acts opens is a vision of the risen Jesus telling his followers that the Kingdom will be restored through their lives of witness beginning at home and stretching to the ends of the earth. It’s the vision that holds good for us here and now.

If we want to respond well to the events in our city over the summer, we will be fired by this vision to make Jesus known in word and work in our community. It will mean that our programme as a church will be focussed on embodying and imparting the values of God’s Kingdom on the streets where we live and the places where we work.

Our neighbourhoods need to see that there is a way of living where all people are valued, where we can work together for the common good, where the weak can be supported, the fallen set back on their feet, the poor helped and the love of Christ shed abroad in all our hearts by the Holy Spirit working in, with and alongside us.

For this reason, we’ll be continuing to deepen our links with JusB and Street Pastors; and we’ll continue to explore the possibility of setting up a debt project with CAP, a foodbank with Trussell Trust and neighbourhood groups that will share the good news of Jesus with those around them through parties and practical action.

Paul lived in obedience to the vision from heaven and was accused by people in Thessalonica of having turned the world upside down. We too have the opportunity to be accused of doing the same if we too are obedient to the vision from heaven. Are we up for it?

The passing of a great saint

News has come through that the great John Stott died this afternoon. He was a stalwart defender of the faith and an all round lovely Christian man. There are tributes here; I'm sure lots more will follow.

Apocalypse postponed

So the apocalypse is postponed and the after rapture parties are still in full swing across the US. And it's all a good laugh and we can roll our eyes in disbelief and mutter 'only in America'.

Harold Camping should, of course, take the Bible more seriously and see that when Jesus says that about that day or hour no one knows, not even angels or Jesus himself (Mark 13:32), he means that no one knows, not even clever people using dubious maths to find underlying patterns in the text.

Perhaps the lesson from all this is two-fold. First let's learn to listen to and trust what Jesus actually said. And second let's be careful spouting nonsense in his name that brings the gospel into disrepute

Being church in a harsh economic climate

One of the things the church has a chance to be is a community that models a different approach to life. For many years it's been popular to describe this as 'counter-cultural'. The trouble is that this term has been frustratingly vague and often informed as much by cultural factors as by Biblical thinking.

Trevor, commenting on a previous post about social solidarity, lamented the fact that churches aren't really talking about what's happening in our country. Part of the reason for this, I guess (rather obviously), is that within our churches are people who voted for most of the options on offer in May's election; there are people who want to pay less tax and so support public spending cuts and those who think the state has a responsibility to protect the poorest in our community. Because of these divisions of opinion, we tend to steer clear of talking about these issues in church.

Trevor reminds us of Jeremiah 29 - a text that called me into ministry 30 years ago - and suggests that 'our churches aren’t going to be able to prosper if the communities around them are being ravaged by cutbacks and redundancies.' That's food for thought, isn't it?

What does it mean, in the context of impending spending cuts and the general fragility of our economy, the squeeze on household incomes and general gloom about our economic prospects following years of boom, to 'seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile.'? How will we 'pray to the Lord for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper'?

The word rendered 'peace and prosperity' is the Hebrew word shalom that offers a picture of wholeness, well-being, the welfare of everyone in the community. Church, according to Jeremiah, is a gathering, a collection, a community of people who embody the values pre-supposed by this rich Hebrew word. What does that look like?

Peter reflects on this passage in Jeremiah in his first letter and one of his observations is that 'as foreigners and exiles, [we] abstain from sinful desires, which war against your soul. Live such good lives among the pagans that, though they accuse you of doing wrong, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day he visits us.' (1 Peter 2:11-12).

Perhaps if we see sinful desires as referring less to sex and more to our economic lives (greed, for example; the use of our cash only to satisfy our wants and desires and not the needs of those around us), we could begin to reflect on how this call to godly living might resource counter-communal living in today's harsh economic reality.

Building on the Big Welcome

We had a good morning yesterday. I had a very interesting and overwhelmingly positive reaction to my musings on Bowie and Nathanael (see my previous post) and the church had a large number of visitors. Intriguingly, many of those were visitors from overseas, including Lithuania and Holland. It says something significant about the way Bromley is changing.

It was, of course, the Big Welcome (or Back to Church Sunday as others call it), so it was great to have a number of visitors in our congregation (though I'm not sure many of them were there because of the efforts of the church inviting them!) I suspect the visitors pitched up because of our location - in the town centre, close to bus routes and recognisably ecclesiastical - and, I'd like to think, because of the welcome we offer once those people come close.

We've been having a conversation about welcome recently, pondering how we can capitalise on what we're already doing, how we make people feel at home among us.

A key part of this has been how we can help people to belong at the level they want to. We have tended to operate a 'one-size fits all' policy: everyone coming to church is looking to be actively involved in the church's programme, certainly wants to join a home group and is probably keen to volunteer in Sunday School, youth work or the women's meeting.

But recent experience suggests that this is not the case. we have a number of people who 'belong' to our church - in that they attend weekly without fail (often more regularly than long-standing committed members) but do not want to become members and certainly don't see volunteering in the church's programme as the path to fulfilment. They are even pretty iffy about the hone groups as they are currently constituted.

I suspect other churches are facing these issues. I'd be interested to know how others tackle it. Our conversations continue. I'll keep you posted.

Lessons from the workshops of Corinth

So, I'm pondering the second half of my chapter on the social location of the Pauline communities (while listening to Chacago Transit Authority) and formulating a thesis (as you do when writing a dissertation - though some might think I should have formulated a thesis already, but let's not go there!) and it strikes me that it might have implications for how we understand church today.

The thesis is simple (and not very original - but I'm doing a review dissertation, so originality is not expected): Paul was a craft worker - a tentmaker, probably a worker in leather rather than a weaver of cloth - who worked from sunrise to sunset in a workshop with others in the same trade. He probably slept at the back of the workshop or on a mezzanine floor above his bench; maybe in a first floor room. He would have eaten there or in the popina (the Roman equivalent of a fast food outlet) on the corner of the street, where for a few pennies he'd have picked a chunck of bread and vegetable stew.

So, where did church and mission happen? In the workshop. As he worked, he talked; his audience was his fellow workers, customers, passers-by drawn by a vigorous conversation. Nearly everyone who heard him speak would have been craft workers or slaves from customers houses come to place or collect orders. This explains why the Pauline communities were dominated by artisans and why there's such a stress on working for a living and sharing what you've made with those who haven't had such a good day or week as you.

It possibly has implications for how we read 1 Corinthians 11-14. Scholars generally agree that this teaching refers to the gathering of believers around a meal for what we now call 'worship' (Paul wouldn't have called it that, however). The apostle envisages prayer and prophecy, teaching and learning all in the context of a meal, at the heart of which was a remembering of Jesus and the cross. Many reckon it was loosely based on the Graeco-Roman symposium (and they are probably right).

But what if, instead of taking place in a family home or appartment, Paul envisages the Corinthians gathered in a workshop, eating together at the end of the working day? In fact, it wouldn't have been like this for all the communities in Corinth because it's clear that one of the problems in some gatherings was that some started eating before others arrived. This implies that some didn't need to work until sunset, suggesting a degree of wealth (though not at all suggesting membership of the tiny social elite as some have argued). But it would almost certainly have been like this in Thessalonica where, from Paul's letters, we get the flavout of a small gathering that is very workshop-based.

It all leads me to the conclusion that Paul's communities were socially located in craft workers shops and appartments and therefore consisted overwhelmingly of poor to moderately ok working people. The typical member of a Pauline community was someone who had to work each day to ensure they got to eat, who worked long hours with their hands, who lived in a space not much bigger than a modern British garage and who were drawn to the faith of Paul by his stress on grace and forgiveness, sharing and economic mutuality.

And what does it tell us about church today? Possibly that it needs few of the trappings that we think are essential. Where a small group of people meet to eat, remember Jesus, pray for and support one another, there is church. So, why can't it be happening in pubs and restaurants, cafes and workplace meeting areas?

I've changed the music to Bowie's Station to Station as I return to dissertation writing wondering what this picture of the chruch says about the role of full-time paid ministers...

More thoughts on weddings

Giles Fraser was on fine form on yesterday's Thought for the Day (available now on the BBC website), waxing lyrical about the absurdity of some modern weddings. With a price tag for the couple averaging £20,000, he pointed out that even attending a wedding these days could cost a guest - if you include the present (usually from some overpriced store list), travel, overnight accommodation and an outfit - upwards of £500.

He added: 'And yes, I blame the media here, not the happy couple. For the pervasive influence of the media on the look and feel of weddings - not least those weddings that are featured in celebrity magazines - has encouraged an atmosphere of narcissism and self-promotion to work its way into the very fabric of the modern wedding celebration. Little wonder that, at their worst, some weddings can feel like an overblown vanity project, all justified by foot-stomping references to "my special day"'.

And today, as if to prove Fraser right, the editor of one of the wedding magazines was on the programme defending the amount spent on the day because it was so important for the bride to feel special on her special day.

Since when did feeling special have anything to do with the price tag? Surely feeling special is about knowing that today you are committing yourself to the man you've chosen to spend the rest of your life with because you're head over heels in love with him, in the presence of those people who have made you the person you are - your family and friends - and who will stand with you, supporting this choice you have made through all the ups and downs of married life.

This is what we saw on Saturday at David and Ruth's wedding where family and friends came together to create a truly memorable day for a couple they loved dearly. And it really was a special day despite the bill being a fraction of the twenty grand average; special because at the heart of it was the commitment of two people in love, pledging themselves to one another in the presence of those who love and support them.

What church is really all about

We were at a great wedding yesterday that showed us once again what church can be like.

David and Ruth tied the knot at a service of real emotion and joy and then had a reception in our church hall transformed into a Bedouin tent and catered with love and expertise by their home group.

It was evidence of what happens when take seriously the idea that church is a community of folk who are there for each other, to enable them to achieve things they couldn't have achieved on their own.

The home group had dedicated themselves to weeks of planning and long days in the run up to yesterday of hard work and commitment. The result was a day of joy and celebration where the presence of God in both the service and reception was palpable.

It was yet more proof that church is best when it's small, when a group no bigger than can fit around a large dining table commit themselves to each other, to share their lives with one another and encounter the risen Jesus in their midst as a result.

So a big thank you to everyone involved in making it happen. Thank you for showing me the potential there is when a group of disciples take seriously the idea that church is a family.

Meaning in the mayhem?

For our first foray of the summer into the Old Testament, we doing a short series on Ecclesiastes, five Sundays beginning the week after next. The idea is to tackle some issues that people talk about around the water cooler and at BBQs, when they're not talking about the world cup; things like 'why do I work so many hours?' 'where does all the time go?' 'Why aren't we having any fun?' 'Why's the government so incompetent?' Why's family life so demanding?' You know the kind of thing...

So, in preparation for this I have been been dusting off commentaries and looking for angles. Of all the things I've read, Greame Goldsworthy's Gospel & Wisdom is still the best. This book, which covers more than Ecclesiastes, helped me form my view of the wisdom material while I was at college. A close second is Robert Davidson's The Courage to Doubt. Eugene Peterson also has good thoughts in Five Smooth Stones for Pastoral Work. Of the commentaries, Murphy and Longman are exhaustive and Kidner is full of insight. Finally, Robert K Johnston's Useless Beauty: Ecclesiastes through the lens of contemporary film is a feast of good things.

All I've got to do now is create a series, brief my preaching team, tell the church what we're doing so they can invite friends along and launch it. Happy days!

The heart of communion

It was communion at the Later Service yesterday, so we did a version of the communion we'd used at Prism this year (HT to James), namely, we had cake and wine to remember the partying Jesus and bread nailed to a plank to help us reflect on the suffering Jesus. I think it worked well.

Communion as we practice it in our churches (certainly Baptist ones) can be a strange affair. A couple of days ago, David Kerrigan blogged about the vicar of Soham offering communion to everyone attending church in the wake of the killings there and describing it as a moving expression of mission. I'm sure he's right.

But wasn't it also the most natural thing to do. Isn't communion a picture of Jesus inviting us all to sit and eat and chat with him? And isn't it entirely right that the group sitting round the table with him will be a mixed bunch? Certainly every meal, banquet, feast and party Jesus attended contained a pretty mixed bag of guests - pompous religious folk, hookers, local crime bosses, ordinary working people trying to make sense of the economy and where God had gone.

We've turned communion in our churches into a solemn recollection of how Jesus died for me. Our habit of taking a morsel of bread and sip of wine reinforces this: just enough to tickle the taste buds with the thought that this is all about me and my salvation.

But when Jesus came to the aid of the bride groom at Cana, he made enough wine to keep party going for a month because the whole point of eating and drinking together is not the eating and drinking but the conversation that happens between mouth-fulls.

When Paul condemned the table manners of the Corinthians, it wasn't because they were eating and drinking with the unsaved or allowing those who didn't know who Jesus was to eat with them. It was because some were eating and drinking their fill, while others - mainly manual workers - arrived at the end of the working day to find only scraps left.

The point of communion, says Paul, is that poor and rich are equally catered for and that in sitting and sharing together around the meal table in a way that stresses the equality of people in Christ makes that meal a memorial of Jesus.

Blessing everyone, saving some

Last night at our leaders gathering we used part of an excellent new resource from Girls Brigade. Called bridge the gap, it's a DVD and group study resource on how to be missional people. On episode 1 Ruth Gilson, GB's national director, says that GB is about blessing everyone and saving many (or something like that). In other words, GB exists to bless all who come to it whether they find faith in Jesus or not.

This statement jumped out at a number of our leaders. One asked if as a church we would ever do something that was not intended to bless people. And of course, when phrased that way, the answer is obviously 'no.' Sadly, though, we inadvertently or carelessly do all sorts of things that don't bless people.

Churches can be places of petty vindictiveness and long-running feuds between members that render its witness anything but a blessing to those coming in off the street. Such visitors catch a whiff of cordite on the air and twig that they have wondered into a war zone and need to beat a hasty retreat. As Paul says in 2 Corinthians 3, everywhere we go we kick up a stink; the trouble is that sometimes it is anything but the aroma of Christ.

It means that we have to work at being good news on two fronts simultaneously. The first is the obvious one of what we do to reach out and embrace people of all kinds, offer to bless them and bring good into their lives. It's the ministry that Jeremiah urged on the exiles in 29:7: 'seek the shalom (the well-being, peace, wholeness) of the city where I've sent you into exile and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its shalom you will find your shalom'. Everything we do should be good news, aiming to bless people regardless of how they respond to us.

The second is less obvious but equally essential: the community we build must be a place of wholeness and acceptance, a place where the barriers between people come down, where there is genuine forgiveness, where past hurts are not allowed to fester or ossify into stumbling blocks to one another. I think this is why Paul spends so much time in his letters talking about our relationships with one another. Time and again I come back to Philippians 2:1-5, 11-18 and see that this is key to being a missional people.

We will not be able to be good news to the world unless we can be good news to and for one another.

From the Assembly to the real world

Back from the Assembly and beginning to recover. I had to hurry off yesterday morning to get back from Plymouth to chair an election hustings meeting last night (200+ people on bank holiday Monday evening, not bad!).

I can only comment on Prism at the Assembly because it's all I got to - five sessions plus a double seminar slot. I gather from the blogs that the Assembly overall was better than it's been in recent years which is good to hear.

Prism went really well. The final session on Sunday evening where we welcomed the ministers about to have their hands shaken on the stage in the other place, looked at how we communicate the good news, interacting with Billy Graham, Rob Bell and Where the hell is Matt? The fact that we shared deeply with one another and ended up dancing probably means that something gelled!

The team were great and worked really hard to make the whole event go really well. It almost makes me want to do it all again, but....

Meanwhile, back in the real world, I have a leaders meeting tonight that I'm really looking forward to. With our newly elected team of nine trustees, we will be starting the journey into the future that God is inviting us on. Let's hope we catch the right wave!

And the spell checker button has reappeared - thank you blogger!

Poised for the great leap forward

We're back from the best Spring Harvest for a number of years. The main sessions in the big top were consistently excellent with Ruth Dearnley, Dave Steell, Steve Holmes, Gerard Kelly, Steve Chalke and Gill Rowe each preaching on Esther.

Although our pastoral was half the size of last year's, we still saw the same number of people - so we were very busy. But it is a huge privilege to be able to walk with people through a whole range of issues. I had the joy of helping a 15 year old boy become a Christian which was great.

Yesterday our week got off to a great start with the election of nine trustee leaders, including a number of younger people - the average of the leadership is probably around 40, which is fantatstic. I've been telling people that this is year zero - not because we're planning a cull of the uncooperative - but because I believe that we have come through a long transition time and are now genuinely poised for a great leap forward.

This week will be mainly taken up with Baptist Assembly planning, catching up with people in church, preparing for the weekend and having our bathroom completely refurbished (fortunately, we've got experts coming to do that for us!)

Purifying the temple with Nehemiah and Jesus

The trouble with the new blogger editing suite is that I can't find the spell checker. So if there are spelling infelicities in this it's down to me not being able to spell. Ah well.

We've had a good weekend. It's been lovely having our grand daughter staying with us for the past week - we went for a walk in Knole Park on Saturday which was full of deer and beginning to emerge from the winter with buds and leaves breaking out all over.

And yesterday evening we finished Nehemiah (hallelujah!). It's been a challenges 12 weeks. I think some good things have come from our wrestling with this text, but I can't escape the feeling that Nehemiah was the world's first spin doctor (as David Clines suggests in a fascinating essay on the book) and that it would be great to have Sanballat's autobiography on the same events!

But yesterday we pondered what we might learn from the two cleansings of the temple - one in Nehemiah 13, the other in the gospels; one by the outsider Jesus, the other by the insider Nehemiah. And we wondered what these events might have to teach us regarding creating missional communities (the subject of our journey through Nehemiah).

My reflection was that Nehemiah and Jesus, while superficially poles apart, are on the same continuum, with Jesus (as you'd expect) fulfilling and completing what Nehemiah was involved in progressing. In particular I drew two conclusions about being a missional community from all this.

The first is that to be a missional community we need to have a firm centre. A key lesson from Nehemiah is that at the heart of the community he was seeking to build was a covenant, the scriptures and prayer. These are the key to knowing who we are; these give shape to the values and lifestyle that creates the community that can truly be a city within a city.

The second is that a missional community needs to have fuzzy edges: We learn this from Jesus and the way he allowed any and everyone who wanted to to attach themselves to the band of disciples, to listen in and ask questions, to come along for the journey to see what it was all about.

It is in this way that Isaiah 2:2-4; Micah 4:1-4 (key Old Testament prophecies about the calling of God's people); Isaiah 61; Acts 3:17-21; Ephesians 3:5-7 (see the temple imagery in 2:20-21) will be fulfilled in little groups of Jesus followers; groups where people are moving from the edge to the centre, drawn by the possibility of becoming aware of who they are in Jesus and through that of discovering life in all its fulness.

It seems to me that that’s mission, that’s our calling; this is what it means to be a missional people.And if this is what Nehemiah has taught us, then it's been twelve weeks well spent - especially if we have actually learned it!

Thoughts about sermons

'We no longer seem to expect our ministers to spend hours (literally hours) every week, thinking, reading, praying: so that when the hungry sheep look up they may be fed.... '

So said Davis McCaughey, the first president of Australia's Uniting Church, in 1979.

It's quoted in blog piece lamenting the decline of the denomination over the past thirty years. I don't know enough about church life in Australia to comment on the main argument of the piece (here), but it caught my eye because it seemed to have something important to say about the issue I was thinking about earlier in the week.

Perhaps people in our churches would be better equipped to live and share their faith, if they were better taught by ministers who took greater care and time over preparation for Sunday.

I find myself somewhat conflicted about this. Having been challenged on Sunday evening about how fragile some people feel in the face of attacks on their faith in the wider world, McCaughey's comments suggest a way that ministers can be the key to encouraging muscle growth among members of our congregations.

McCaughey is not a lone voice, of course. Eugene Peterson has always aregued that the primary calling of the minister is to listen and speak, to pray, study scripture and offer spiritual direction through Sunday teaching and one-to-ones.

I'm not sure the sermon can carry such baggage, however, in our media and information saturated world. But I do think churches - and ministers especially - need to think about what they teach and how they teach it (I've said this before), so that individual Christians feel better able to face the challenges of the world they live in.

The question is how will this best happen? Answers on a post card, please.