How much do you think you are worth, boy?

Janice Turner has a great piece in yesterday's Times reflecting on recent discussions about the latest government workfare scheme. Ads appeared last week - quickly withdrawn - offering a permanent Tesco shelf stacking job paying only job seekers allowance (£53) + travel expenses. It is not an isolated incident.

Many have questioned whether the tax payer ought to be subsidising some of Britain's most profitable companies by offering 'work experience' employees who cost these companies nothing. As Turner points out the tax payer has already gifted Tesco - net profits last year £3.7bn - 168,000 hours of virtually free labour. That's the equivalent of 420 full time jobs at the supermarket.

Other retailers have similarly benefited, though some have withdrawn from the scheme. Some of the most profitable companies in the land are having their bottom lines significantly boosted by the hard-pressed taxpayer (isn't that George Osborne's favourite way of describing us?). Some of these - notably the Arcadia Group - are already embroiled in rows about the avoidance of shed-loads of tax.

Turner's point is that our young people - and it's mostly young unemployed who are sent on these worthless programmes - are worth better than this. One, a graduate called Cait Reilly, is suing the government for breach of her human rights. As Turner astutely observes, amid all the vilification of this young woman, one vital point has been missed: she would happily have done all that was expected of her by Poundland and more if they would only give her a job and pay her for it.

There are hundreds of thousands of young people desperate for work, keen to get into retailing, and this half-baked scheme is keeping them out of the labour market; it is preventing them from becoming tax paying citizens contributing to the national cake, helping to pay off the deficit. As a policy for tackling unemployment, it beggars belief.

Turner also notes that a recent report on supermarket workers pointed to the fact that pay levels in the industry were so low that thousands with permanent jobs were not able to make ends meet without state help in the form of in-work top-up benefits. And this in an industry making tens of billions in profits every year, profits heavily subsidised by the tax payer.

It's time to ask, in the words an old and almost forgotten Graham Kendrick song, 'how much do you think you are worth, boy?' Well, most young unemployed think they are worth a shot at a permanent job (and most of them are). They think they are worth a place in the labour force earning enough to live on and to make a contribution to the society that has given them an education and a reasonable start in life. And in the spirit of the song, I'd suggests that God thinks they're worth that as well for we are made in his image to work and contribute to the community of which we are a part.

The question is, do we think they are worth that? Or are we prepared to go along with a scheme where retailers - already making hefty profits - are further subsidised by us tax payers (from who they earn their profits as we shop in their stores) through these half-baked workfare schemes?

We could all, of course, take a leaf out of Janice Turner's book and refuse to shop at any of the stores taking part in this scheme. She has printed the list of those firms - McDonald's, Boots, Primark, Asda, the Arcadia Group, TK Maxx (though I heard that it might have withdrawn), Matalan - 'because I will not give these firms a penny until they stop exploiting young people - and my tax bill.'

Would St Paul the Tentmaker have camped with Occupy?

As promised, here's the full version of my presentation at the Bank of Ideas this afternoon. We had an excellent time with some lively and imaginative thinkers who were keen to explore whether Paul the tent maker had any wisdom to share relating to changing the world. None of them were church-goers but all found Paul more interesting than they were expecting!

Anyway, here's what I said:

If St Paul walked into the building in the churchyard that bears his name, he’d struggle to make the connection between it and the movement he belonged to. So maybe he’d make a tent and pitch it alongside the others outside the Cathedral and pondered the paradox.

Paul was a craftworker who lived by making tents, shop awnings and other canvas and leather goods. He was never a religious professional; if he didn’t make and sell his goods, he didn’t eat and couldn’t pay his rent.

He lived like other craftworkers in the empire in a rented workshop, sleeping on a mezzanine floor above his bench, tools and canvas or in a room behind his workspace. He bought his food at a street café – a popina – if he’d made a sale and shared it with fellow craftworkers as they talked about Jesus and how they might embody his values in their lives.

Paul lived in a world where an elite 1-3% owned pretty much everything, called the shots and lived lives of hitherto unknown luxury. The other 97-99% got by as best they could. A few earned enough to enjoy a modest surplus – maybe a week’s cushion, a month’s in boom times; most scraped by a day at a time – if they got work today, they ate and kept the landlord happy til tomorrow.

So everything Paul says about money, he says against this background – a context that has a curiously modern ring to it.

Paul also joined a movement that already had some firm views about how the economy ought to be organised – certainly the economy over which they had a measure of control, namely their own churches. There were two abiding principles that seem to have been at work among those early followers of Jesus – mutualism and equality (the former arising from the latter).

In the opening scene of his story of the Jesus community in Acts, Luke twice tells us that the believers had everything in common and distributed to those who were in need (2:44f; 4:32, 34f). This form of social organisation is sometimes called 'love communalism', a community of shared or pooled resources motivated by love between its members. It is mutualism in practice, ‘the implicit or explicit belief that individual and collective well-being is attainable above all by mutual interdependence’ (as Justin Meggitt puts it)

Some scholars suggest that this was a social experiment that failed. Their argument hinges on the fact that when famine came to the region in the mid-40s, the Jerusalem and Judean believers did not have the resources to cope and were therefore dependent on support from elsewhere.

But such a view completely misunderstands the precarious nature of life in the first century. Few people had the resources to be able to cope with food shortages – the result of the prices of staple foods going up beyond their reach – let alone famines. The majority of Jesus followers were middling to poor people who lived at or just a little above subsistence and who were vulnerable to economic downturns.

It also fails to grasp the consistent teaching of the Bible, taken up and reinforced by Jesus and sitting at the heart of the movement that bears his name.

Economic justice, in the form of frequent acts of redistribution to ensure equality among his people – was at the heart of God’s agenda for his people from the earliest days on.

The Sabbath cycle ensured that the poor were not neglected. Every harvest was to be taken in such a way that the crops at the edge of the fields were to be left for the poor to glean. Every seven years, the land was to be left fallow, allowing anything that grew on them to be picked by those without fields to work (Exodus 23:10-11; Leviticus 25:2-7). On top of that, slaves were to be released (Exodus 23:10-11; Deuteronomy 15:12-18). And debts were to be cancelled (Deuteronomy 15:1-6). God’s idea seems to have been that no one, regardless of whether they’d brought it on themselves or not, was to be left in unsustainable debt and everlasting slavery. Grace was built into the economy.

Then every 50 years, everything was to return to how it was when the people entered the land. All the families would return to their portion of Israel. It was a reminder to the nation that the land belonged to God and they only worked it as tenants or stewards, managing it for their landlord, God (Leviticus 25:10-16).

The prophets emphasised the importance of the jubilee in the future God plans for his people (Isaiah 58, 61; Ezekiel 45:7-9; 46:16-18). At the heart of the prophetic critique of the people’s life was the fact that they had neglected justice in the land. For example, Ezekiel 16:48-50 likens Judah to Sodom, a city marked by greed and neglect of the poor; and Isaiah calls the leaders of Judah ‘Sodom’ (1:10) because they have neglected justice (1:17; 3:13-15 and especially 5:1-7).

Much of Jesus’ teaching about money and life in the Kingdom of God is rooted in the jubilee notions of release and restoration – especially his first sermon at Nazareth and the model prayer he taught his disciples with the line ‘forgive us our debts as we have already forgiven our debtors’.

Paul absorbed these radical economic values and they became the bedrock of his understanding of how the Christian community should work. And while he outlines how the principles of mutuality and equality should work within the Christian community, he does so because he believes this to be God’s blueprint for human society everywhere.

It’s interesting that Steve Keen, professor of economics and finance at the university of Western Sydney, has suggested total debt cancellation as a way of getting the global economy out of the mess it’s been pitched into by an over-reliance on debt-financing of everything! He argues that a debt jubilee is politically improbable because it would cause the failure of many banks. But the alternative is a decade of economic stagnation with the poor picking up the tab for the rich world over-dosing on debt.

I can see Paul nodding in the door of his tent…

When Paul talks about the mutualism of the small churches he wrote to, he has in mind the release from oppression at the heart of Old Testament jubilee ideas. In Galatians 2:10, 5:13-14 and 6:7-10 he outlines an ethic based on mutual sharing and seeking the good of others – especially those in the household of faith. In Philippians 2:1-4 he argues that we should seek one another’s interests rather than our own, since through Jesus we have been freed from sin and competition and he offers his own life as an example of being content with our economic circumstances because God will provide all that we need to live in the context of thanking them for sharing economically with him while he was in need (4:10-20).

And in 2 Corinthians 8:1-15 we have an outline of the heart of his thinking about money and mutualism that is based on the key jubilee principles of release and restoration. By the grace of God, the Macedonians have been released from the prevailing greed of the culture, freed to share their surplus with those in need, so that they in turn might have a measure of prosperity restored to them.

And at the heart of this vision is equality. Mutualism – which aims for those in surplus to share with those in need – is based on a fundamental principle that there should be equality between people. He says:

¹³Our desire is not that others might be relieved while you are hard pressed, but that there might be equality. ¹⁴At the present time your plenty will supply what they need, so that in turn their plenty will supply what you need. The goal is equality, ¹⁵as it is written: “The one who gathered much did not have too much, and the one who gathered little did not have too little.” (Ex 16:18)

For Paul the simple principle that everyone should have what they need and share what is left over with those who are in need determines our economic relationships. He was gathering support for believers in Judea because they were hammered by hunger and a crashing economy.

His model is that everyone should work to have something to share. So when he writes to a small group of believers in Thessalonica, he urges them to work with their hands rather than be dependent on hand-outs from wealthy patrons, so that they will have something to share. Indeed, his aim appears to be that everyone would want to be a benefactor, using their surplus for the good of those who were in need around them.

Paul’s economics are probably not directly transferable from his world to ours. But his was a world where government was weak and a wealthy minority called the shots; his was a world where the have-nots were hung out to dry by those who amassed wealth for themselves; and his was a world where the poor were squeezed by rising prices, high taxes and a lack of opportunity.

So perhaps his economic principles of mutualism and equality have something to say to our world. Perhaps he’d have spoken about this as he sat outside his tent in Paternoster Square.

Comments very welcome...

Would Paul join Occupy?

I am doing a gig with Juliet and Rob at the Bank of Ideas on Thursday at 1pm. Details here.

I'll be reflecting on what we can learn from Paul's ideas of equality and mutuality. He was keen to 'remember the poor' (Galatians 2:10), seen particularly in his raising a redistributive collection among his churches for the hard-pressed Judean believers.

If you work in the City, please come along, bring your lunch and join in the debate; if you know people who do, invite them along. It'd be good to have an audience!

I'll post what I say after the event.

Why paying our dues is a sign of love

Richard Murphy is an interesting accountant. That's a sentence I don't write very often! Murphy has been quietly gaining a reputation as a commentator on what is happening in our economy and wider society from the perspective of taxation. Now, this doesn't sound riveting but just consider these two observations.

First, the Greek financial crisis is partly - if not mainly - a crisis of the non-payment of tax by the rich, by businesses and, by example, of anyone who can get away with it. If government coffers are denied income, spending will inevitably lead to problems.

Second, that the £50bn evaded or avoided by UK tax payers - corporate and individual - would go quite a long way to solving our own deficit problems without punishing the poor for the sins of the wealthy.

I believe that paying tax is a sign that we love our neighbours - as Paul says in Romans 13:6-7 as he reflects on what it means to love one another. So, I confess that I read the  article and commentary by Nick Cohen in yesterday's Observer with my jaw in my breakfast cereal this morning (you can read it here and here).

In short, he is reporting a pretty significant spat in the House of Commons over the behaviour of the head of the Inland Revenue. MPs on the Public Accounts Select Committee have accused Dave Hartnett of lying to them and called on Gus O'Donnell, the cabinet secretary, to sack him. Why? Because he has cut deals enabling some of the richest institutions in the UK so they can avoid paying billions of pounds worth of tax. The list of beneficiaries includes Goldman Sachs and Vodafone. The fact that he has enjoyed 107 lunches over the past two years with large corporations, the big four accountancy firms and countless merchant and investment adds to the picture of a somewhat cosy relationship between Britain's tax collector-in-chief and many of the groups who pay little or no tax.

This at a time when a number of PAYE customers of HMRC are being hounded for underpaid tax because the Revenue seems incapable of doing something as simple as programming its computers correctly. We should not be surprised if people lose faith in the tax system because they feel they are paying their due while those with influence and sharp-suited accountants are robbing us blind. Isn't this what has happened in Greece?

Which brings us back to Richard Murphy, a man who thinks that we need to bring capitalism back under democratic control. We need to note that he's not anti-capitalist (a term that is so devoid of meaning as to be completely useless in describing anything or anyone). He thinks that this begins (though doesn't end) with a just, accountable and transparent tax system where people and corporations pay what they owe. He blogs here and anyone interested in charting a way to a saner, more just society ought to read his stuff.

Voting for Robin Hood

The day after 50 economists call for a cut in the 50p tax rate, 1,000 economists are urging the G20 to adopt the Robin Hood Tax, a 0.05% levy on every financial transaction.

Also known as the Tobin tax, it's estimated that it would raise 20bn a year in the UK alone. such money could be used to create jobs, invest in the health service and youth work across the nation.

It's good to see that there are some economists committed to the public good. A recent poll carried out by Oxfam suggests that 51% of the UK population think this is a good idea. And the even the IMF, which has reservations about it, has published a report suggesting that it could raise significant sums without unduly affecting the health of the financial services sector.

Let's vote for Robin Hood, I say....

Another day, another remedy

Ken Clarke's analysis of the riots is a broken penal system (today's Guardian). He bases this observation on the fact that three quarters of those charged already had a criminal record. He calls for a rehabilitation revolution. Amen to that.

Of course, it's hard to rehabilitate offenders if the economy is broken because a key factor in successful rehabilitation is being able to find ex-offenders jobs on their release. As the economy flatlines and recession returns to most of our overseas markets, and unemployment rises, there are few jobs for those coming out of prison and young offender institutions, so very little hope of a rehabilitation revolution.

The trouble with Clarke's analysis - as with that of Cameron's broken Britain rhetoric - is that it is strong on blaming the poor and weak on helping to put things right. Rhetoric is not what's needed. What is needed is something that addresses the issue of worklessness and the only remedy to that is creating more jobs. And as Keynes demonstrated in the 1930s, when the private sector is incapable or unwilling to do this, the public sector has to step in.

In the medium term, this is cheaper than public support for the long-term unemployed. So the issue is not do we spend public money in this area but how. We can spend vast amounts tackling a problem or we can spend sensibly to prevent it. Creating economic growth and jobs for all seems to be a better way of spending that money than on more prisons and endless mean benefits.

We need more than Ken Clarke's remedy: 'Addressing unemployment means making progress on the economy by getting the deficit under control and pressing ahead with welfare reform and work programmes.' Because his remedy lacks any reference to how jobs might be created.

Weighing rewards

'We're all in this together' is the often-heard mantra in these straightened times. But this morning's figures from Incomes Data Services suggests that some of us are more in it in than others. The 'it' in question is the pay trough: boardroom pay has risen on average by 55% while ordinary workers pay is lagging inflation (as measured by the RPI); public sector pay is rising on average by 0.7% with prices rising at over 4% (you do the maths).

For some reason we still seem to believe that the rich need to be incentivised by money while the poor are incentivised by austerity. And we seem to think that this is fair.

Jesus said:

      Blessed are you who are poor,
      for yours is the kingdom of God.
      Blessed are you who hunger now,
      for you will be satisfied.
      Blessed are you who weep now,
      for you will laugh.
      Blessed are you when people hate you,
      when they exclude you and insult you
      and reject your name as evil,
      because of the Son of Man.
      Rejoice in that day and leap for joy,
      because great is your reward in heaven.
      For that is how their ancestors treated the prophets.
      But woe to you who are rich,
      for you have already received your comfort.
      Woe to you who are well fed now,
      for you will go hungry.
      Woe to you who laugh now,
      for you will mourn and weep.
      Woe to you when everyone speaks well of you,
      for that is how their ancestors treated the false prophets.
                                      (Luke 6:20-26)

So, I wonder what he makes of these numbers...

Does common language really lead to integration?

Radio 4 broadcast a very moving documentary in its 9:00am slot this morning about twin sisters who have converted to religious faith from an agnostic upbringing - one to Christianity, the other to Islam. The programme followed their journey over the course of a year when their mother was diagnosed with cancer and they were each expecting their second children.

The dialogue between the sisters was fascinating and the eventual awakening of their terminally ill mother to the possibility of God was amazing. It's well worth checking out on iplayer if you haven't heard it before.

It followed a report on the Today programme about the integration of Muslims into German society following the publication of a controversial book arguing that the wave of Islamic immigration into Germany has not brought any benefits and Angela Merkel's recent speech announcing that multi-culturalism had failed.

I was left scratching my head at the end of it. Didn't the Germans invite Turkish 'guest workers' to their country to take the plethora of factory jobs being created in the sixties and seventies by the then West Germany's economic boom?

One of the points being made was that migrants were slow to learn German or in some cases were not learning German at all. It's an example of the tendency to judge the success or failure of integration purely on the language issue. We think that if people learn our language, they integrate. I think what the Radio 4 documentary this morning suggested was that sisters with a common language and common upbringing were not 'integrated' in the sense that they saw eye-to-eye on some pretty fundamental issues arising from their different faiths.

Common language helps but it is not the touchstone of integration. I note the fact that the early Christians spoke Greek which was OK in the Greek speaking parts of the Roman empire - Greece, Asia minor (though even there Greek was not the native language, it was an imperial imposition); but what about in Rome? Rome was a Latin-speaking city yet when Paul wrote to the churches there, he wrote in Greek. He was writing to a migrant cult that had taken hold in the slums where the 'guest workers' lived, those who had come seeking a better life in the imperial capital.

Paul didn't tell the Roman followers of Jesus that the key to success in mission was learning Latin. It would probably have helped. If Robert Jewett is right, one of the reasons Paul wrote to the churches in the city was get support for his mission to Spain that was being funded by Phoebe. The support in question could well have Latin speakers who would have helped smooth Paul's passage into that part of the empire.

Clearly speaking the host language helps integration at the some pretty basic levels - shopping, accessing health care and education. So maybe the Germans should have been welcoming their guest workers with help to acquire the necessary language skills; basic hospitality would suggest that.

But I'm not sure that lack of common language is the reason for opposition to migration across Europe, a continent whose history has been made by wave after wave of migration. We need to look elsewhere to find that.

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.

Spend a little, live a lot

After the weekend's lacklustre G20 and G8 meetings, it takes an economist to cut through the cant and tell it like it is. Paul Krugman does that in today's Guardian (a piece that first appeared in the New York Times.

The Nobel laureate is one of the world's leading economic thinkers. He has been consistently accurate in his analysis of recent events - often before they actually happened - so his is a voice worth heeding.

He argues we're on the verge of the third depression (the first being in the years after 1873 and the second in the 1930s following the Wall Street Crash. The first was long and the second was deep). And he lays the blame squarely at the door of policy makers and governments obsessed with cutting deficits.

He argues that the G20 is looking at and therefore treating the wrong symptoms. They are fearful of inflation when deflation is the biggest risk facing the world economy and they are tightening their belts (meaning, our belts) at a time when the world is massively underspending and therefore demand is too weak to secure a recovery. In the words of Aldi, we should rather 'spend a little, live a lot...'

This isn't just academic number-crunching, however. This is about the lives of millions of people across the globe as well as in our neighbourhoods who, as a result of government policy here and in the other G8 nations (especially in Europe), might never work again.

And he suggests that such policies don't really even satisfy the financial markets, even though governments (especially our hysterical chancellor) are constantly talking about fiscal rectitude being needed or the credit agencies and bond markets will give us the thumbs down. In fact, Krugman argues, the markets appear to be telling us that long-term fiscal rectitude is good but slashing spending in the short term, weakening demand and raising unemployment is not a recovery strategy that they want to invest in - hence the continued weakness of stock markets around the world, driven by fears for corporate profits.

And this comes on the day when Frank Field - for the second time called in  by a government to think the unthinkable about welfare reform - suggested that young men should have their benefits removed completely if they don't accept a job offer. The trouble is Frank, there aren't any jobs for these young men to be offered that would not result in them becoming homeless and indebted.

Welfare reform is vital but it has to go hand-in-hand with economic recovery ands the creation of jobs that pay wages sufficient to support a family - and minimum wage jobs in most of the UK do not come close to that when housing, travel and living costs are factored in.

However, it was heartening to hear Frank say that the new Government's decision to scrap the jobs fund (which guaranteed work to young unemployed people) wasn't very clever. It looks like unemployment is going to be the touchstone in the next few years as it was in the 1980s and early 90s. Plus ca change, hey?!

So, who speaks up for the poor?

When I was a financial journalist, Budget week was a time of frenetic activity and excitement. I and my colleagues would pore over the red book and talk to city analysts and economists about what the measures announced in an invariably dull speech actually amounted to.

Budgets are always full of bogus statistics, massaged numbers and big claims. This one was is no different. The specious Office for Budget Responsibility, run by one of Mrs T's favourite economists, hardly offers a fig leaf for George Osborne's voodoo numbers.

It's a bad week for the poor. Even on the government's own figures the poorest 10% of the country are the second hardest hit group after the richest 10%. As John Humphries asked Nick Clegg this morning 'why should this group be paying anything?'

We're in a global recession that has been caused by two things. One was a failure of international financial regulatory systems - the IMF, G20, and national governments (including the one that left office here in May). The major cause was free-wheeling banks creating ways of making money for their shareholders on the backs of the world's poor. The rich - for they are still making huge profits and paying enormous bonuses - plunged us into a recession that the poor are now being asked to pay to get us all out of.

The banks were in receipt of getting on for £140bn of direct support plus some £800bn+ of indirect support in the financial markets to keep them from going under - and still they are not lending to small and medium-sized business in anything like the way needed to get us out of the mess we're in.

The cost to them is a paltry £2bn levy announced in this budget. A Robin Hood Tax would have raised £20bn a year, something like a fair contribution from the banking sector for the deficit it's caused.

With VAT rises, a freeze on child benefit, the linking of other benefits to the consistently lower inflation measure, caps on housing benefit (coupled with the disappearance of any target for building affordable homes) and swingeing cuts coming in the public services that the prosperous never have to rely, this was a bad budget day for the poor.

Are we good news to anyone?

At the end of our cafe church on Sunday, a man walked in looking for the pastor. He was looking for help, any help we could give him. He'd been a bike messenger in the City - carrying documents between some of the leading financial services companies in the country - and had a flat. But six weeks ago he'd lost his job and a month ago, lost his flat. He'd slept rough in Bromley the night before. What could we do to help him?

He's the tip of a vast iceberg; people who clung to a life through the boom who've been washed up on the rocks as the wave has broken.

As we phoned round the usual agencies, we discovered that there's virtually no help for such homeless people. Nearly all the hostels only take referrals from their respective local authority and have waiting lists as long as your arm; everyone tells you to call Shelter - wonderful organisation - but their helpline isn't available at 9pm on a Sunday.

We found him a hostel place - somewhere he'd stayed before but couldn't afford to to anymore - and booked him a couple of nights and wished him well. I'll call him at the end of the week to see how he's doing.

But is that it?

Sometimes in the face of need, I feel so impotent. More than that, I feel fearful; afraid that acting, doing something will lead to a situation where I am not in control. And so, I hesitate...

Over on thinking mission, David Kerrigan has mused on what it means to be radical. It's good stuff; go and read it. In particular, he's asked us 'why, if we are good news, do so few recognise us as such?' And he adds: 'I am pleading that we have the humility to look at how we live, how we gather, and how we express our Christian faith in a world riddled with injustice, where power is used and abused in a way that has little in common with the way Jesus encouraged his followers to live.'

London faces a housing crisis that if current projections are to be believed will get much worse over the next ten years because we are just not building enough homes for everyone who needs one. For those of us on the property ladder already, this is probably good news because it means rising property values. 

But for those in poor, inadequate, over-crowded housing and those sleeping on a mate's sofa or in a box in the park, this is really bad news. Their plight will get worse. Again, the poor land at the bottom of the heap. And who will lift them up?

It's trite to ask 'what would Jesus do?' But I think it is worth asking, as David does, because I think we need to look into our collective hearts and ask ourselves 'what kind of people do we want to be?' and 'what kind of people do we think Jesus wants us to be?'

Cutting the future to pay for the past

So the first round of spending cuts were announced yesterday and it looks like they'll do exactly what many feared they would. With Russell Crowe filling our screens as the latest incarnation of Robin Hood, maybe it's time to see his tax ideas enacted across the globe.

Owen Tudor, a spokesperson from the Robin Hood Tax campaign, put his finger on the issue when he said: “The spending cuts spelled out by George Osborne represent a profound sign of injustice. Those who bear no responsibility for the global recession will have to pay the price, while the financial sector, whose reckless behaviour has largely contributed to the mess which we are in, can continue business as usual.

The banks in the UK have been bailed out to the tune of £850bn and yet it is probably young people in my neighbourhood who will pay the price for their casino activities. Bonuses show no sign of abating but local authority spending had been slashed by more than £1bn. This means that a lot of projects offering front line support to some of our society's most vulnerable young and old people will be axed.

Something feels wrong about that. It's hard to see how a slash and burn approach to public finances fits with all the talk of a big society. The thing about a big society is that communities and churches can rise to the challenge of meeting real social need more efficiently than government can. But they can't do it for nothing. They rely on statutory funding as well as charitable giving to pay for their activities. Perhaps Goldman Sachs executives could make a start by donating their entire bonus pot (a smidgen over $16bn) to projects working with the poor and vulnerable in our communities.

“Cuts will not only affect a significant portion of public sector workers who will lose their jobs or see their pay frozen,' says Tudor, 'but also the general public who will no longer be able to rely on essential public services. One way of avoiding these large-scale cuts would be to introduce a Robin Hood Tax on the financial sector, which would raise at least £20 billion a year in the UK alone. Such a tax would be fair as it would target a sector that played a pivotal role in the economic crisis and that has the financial resources to cope with a levy.”

Robin Hood Tax campaigners say that the revenue raised would help reduce the public deficit, protect public service jobs, tackle poverty at home and abroad, as well as fight climate change. You can find out more about Robin Hood here

health, wealth and the credit crunch

I'm on the train testing out my new dongle (they can't touch you for it), on my way to Didcot for an Assembly Project Team meeting (less exciting than it sounds).

Yesterday I was preparing for the final leg in our look at what the Bible says about money and how that informs how we live. I'm doing some stuff on prosperity teachiung and the jubilee (building on what we last time).

I came across a great piece in the Atlantic, a US political and cultural monthly magazine. It's headline says it all really: 'did Christianity cause the crash?'

It shows that many churches promoting prosperity doctrine are in US sub-prime hotspots. On top of that, many of their ministers or senior leaders were loan oifficers at banks at the forefront of the sub-prime boom. Who is prospering whom? cherck it out here.

Lessons from the widow at the temple

One of the stories in this evening's chunk of Mark (12:18-44) is the one about the widow in the temple.

I've always found this a complex and fascinating episode. Traditionally, she's seen simply as a model of self-sacrificing generosity. And that's how Jesus commends her to us. But just a couple of sentences before, he's drawn our attention to the scribes getting rich because 'they devour widows' houses' (12:40), leaving them in the state exemplified by the widow in this scene.

So, here's a picture of this devout woman dropping her last two coins into the treasury to pay for the upkeep of the scribes' power base and relieve the poor of Jerusalem. It's a somewhat more nuanced scene than we often see.

I think it serves both a negative and positive example.

She is an example of a widow being ripped by a system built on religious hucksterism. She's the victim of the worst kind of telly evangelist-style exploitation; the sort that says if you send a dollar, God will bless and heal you; a victim of the devouring of widow's houses that Jesus has just condemned.

But she is also an example of self-sacrifice, a picture of Jesus in giving her all for the good of others - even others who do not deserve it. Jesus is about to offer his body as a sacrifice on behalf of sinners - like the scribes, like the temple authorities who hound him to death, like this widow, like you and me.

We assume the audience of the teaching in v38-44 is primarily the disciples. Jesus is telling his friends not to be like the scribes, motivated by money, using religion as a means of making a fast buck at the expense of the vulnerable. Sadly it's a lesson we need to learn in each generation.

The lesson probably ripples wider to those in any kind of public service. After all, the scribes were among the political elite and rulers in Jerusalem. The widow is a lesson for all who enter politics - that it's about serving not being served.

And it's a lesson for us who are privileged to live in a system where we're allowed a say in who governs in our country. Are we looking for people who live lives of self sacrifice, seeking the welfare of their communities, paying particular attention to the poorest, the most vulnerable, the marginalised and weak?

Judging by the results of our recent round of elections, that doesn't seem to be the case. we still vote only for those who offer us the best deal, promise to protect our standard of living. We who have enough ought to be looking at the poor widows giving everything they have to keep their communities alive, get alongside them and share our fortune

Spare a dime for a poor rich kid

No doubt about it - the budget confirms we're in a big mess. The superlatives that have littered our front pages ram the point home: life's going to be tough and tough for a good while.

But in the midst of all the hand-ringing and talk of going to hell in a handbasket, I have found myself with an uneasy feeling. All the commentary has been about how we, we who have lived beyond our means for the past generation, we who have believed free markets hold the keys to the Kingdom for 30 years, we who have watched our asset values mushroom beyond the dreams of Ozymandias, are going to have to tighten our belts a notch - and it's not fair and someone must be blamed (providing it isn't us).

We are even being asked to feel sorry for those on £150,000 a year or more who will have to pay a touch more tax. Apparently, Kate Moss' tax bill could rise by half a million and Wayne Rooney's by £450,000. I don't begrudge these undoubtedly talented and beautiful people their wedge. But I do wonder what planet some editors and commentators inhabit.

While the super-rich struggle by on £410 a day (if they earn £150,000 a year), a billion people every bit as talented, beautiful and hardworking as Moss and Rooney luxuriate on the princely sum of $1 (about 68p at today's exchange rate).

One had hoped that the credit crunch might function as a wake-up call to us all to take a fresh look at what we value and how we value it. Perhaps it might have prompted us to ask whether there's a better, fairer, more just and equitable, more sustainable way to run the world than we've tried in the past 30 years.

But apparently not. All the talk is about how we get out of this as quickly and as unscathed as possible so we can resume business as normal. and certainly we should do nothing to disturb the fragile rich who apparently will be scared away from our shores if they are asked to contribute just a tiny bit more to the general well-being of everyone.

Yes, the budget was a missed opportunity. But the commentary on it has been as morally vacuous and empty as the statement itself.

The challenges of the New Year

It's snowing! Looking out on my street pavements are white and snow flakes are sticking to the branches of trees. it's lovely.

Finished my Ministry Today article - it should be in the next issue (which is nice) and launched our first new series of 2009 - a six month journey through Mark's Gospel. Our other new series kicks off next Sunday.

I've reached the first working Monday in January - apparently the worst day of the year (but then BBC Breakfast was in hyper-panic mode this morning!) - feeling in need of a holiday!

I think 2009 is going to prove challenging in a number of ways. Over the weekend I had my first conversation with a church member who is beginning to struggle as a result of the economic downturn. I'm sure there will be many more as January unfolds.

Our family service yesterday asked us to get into groups and talk about the kind of church we think God wants us to be this year. it was interesting talking to people afterwards to hear how many groups talked about pooling resources to help people through difficult times. We need to find ways of not only keeping such ideas alive, but also making them a reality in practical ways.

Recession, singing and being church

It's been good to have anonymous as a dialogue partner. Really got the grey matter going. And hopefully, the thinking will lead to action.

The recession adds a whole new dimension to this discussion, as anonymous suggests by way of a tangent (the whole comment on the last post repays careful reading). I do have all sorts of fears that cash will drain away from much of the good work that is being supported by Christians as they tighten their belts and that Christians might become more self-absorbed as they see their incomes falling.

But I think the recession - we can use that word now as the governor of the Bank of England used it last night(!) - does afford us an opportunity to assess our values as individuals and communities. We will suffer mild discomfort as bills rise - though already food and fuel costs are coming off the peaks they hit in the summer - but the poor around the world will suffer greatly.

The difficulty with recessions is that they are so uneven in their impact on people. Some sail through them relatively unscathed and others find their lives shattered by them. And often those people can live on the same streets, exercise in the same gym, shop in the same malls. My prayer is that our eyes are opened to see how people are being affected.

One of the interesting features of this recession, however, is that it could affect the middle class in the south much more severely than others - unlike the downturns in the early 1980s and 1990s. It is people working in financial services - and those trades dependent on them in London - and those who've relied on debt, especially tied up in property, to fuel their lifestyle who are at the eye of this storm. And these people are my neighbours.

Inevitably, as they are affected, there will be knock-ons in the wider economy affecting other sectors. But we have such a tiny manufacturing sector these days that it's unlikely we'll be seeing factory closures on the scale we saw in the 1980s.

So it's maybe not a time to focus on singing but on sharing, on being honest about how we're doing and how we can support one another and those who could well be in need around us. In short, we have an opportunity to be church in a significantly deeper, more Christ-focused way.

Of course, some would say that a sing-song in a crisis is just the medicine we need, but I'm not sure I want to go there...

Bringing a historical persepctive

Thanks to Iain for his comment on the last post - always good to see sensible baptist ministers at work!

There was an excellent documentary on Radio 4 this morning looking at the context of the current economic woes. It was by Jeff Randall, someone I don't always agree with. But I thought his analysis was spot on, especially in terms of the effects of the big bang (October 1986) on the way money markets work. You'll be able to listen to it again for a week at the BBC website.

What was great was hearing the latest member of Hoare family suggesting that markets crash from time-to-time and we all get on with life. His family bank has weathered many storms since it was founded in the 1690s. You could almost hear his eyebrows rising as he spoke.

Also good to hear Brian Winterflood's perspective. He's been a city dealer for more than 50 years. I used to talk to him occasionally when he was a stock jobber. He lived through the market meltdown of the early 1970s and said it was worse than this one - people lost trust in the banking system altogether and were taking home bags full of Kruger rands to bury in their gardens!

A bit of perspective never hurt anyone - perhaps someone could tell the Today presenters.

Batman and the downturn

We went to see Batman - The Dark Knight last night at Bluewater. Well, we went, but we couldn't get in because the cinema was heaving with people and all the performances were sold out.

Now, I thought we were suffering a downturn, straitened economic circumstances, etc. I have to say that Bluewater was humming when we arrived at 7:45pm last night, shoppers and cinema goers milling about in their thousands.

As we couldn't see the film, we went to one of the bars for a drink. Again the eateries we passed through were doing good business with people queuing for tables.

As ever when the headlines scream that we've never had it so bad, the picture on the ground is always more mixed. Some people are undoubtedly struggling because of rising fuel and food prices. But most people are not. we're paying more for basic commodities, but those items account for small amounts of our total spending (less than 15% according to a recent analysis by David Smith in the Sunday Times) and so the majority of us still have cash left over for entertainment as I saw at Bluewater last night.

Hopefully, I'll get to see Batman at the weekend...