The new Mercury rev album, snowflake midnight, is a strong late contender for record of the year. A decade after the band's sublime deserter's songs, snowflake midnight is an album of ambition and subtlety and wonderful tunes.
In many ways it shouldn't work. It's a sort of concept album, hanging around ideas of the transience of life in the enormity of the universe; it owes far too much to the prog rock of King Crimson and early Pink Floyd; and at times it meanders. Yet none of these things should put you off.
Mercury Rev have woven a load of disparate elements into one of the most affecting 41 minutes of music created this year. Check it out here. As ever the lyrics are intriguing and literate, a pile of images rather than a set of narratives. But they are embedded in gorgeous tunes and soaring melodies. it's genuinely an album to transport you to another place.
So album of the year has quite a strong and somewhat eclectic field this year - Yeasayer, Elbow, The Last Shadow Puppets, Potishead and Fleet Foxes are all in contention and there's still a couple of months to go.
Sunday, October 05, 2008
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
Lives in the balance
Stephen Sizer's blog has a posting of Jackson Browne's wonderful Lives in the Balance featuring the lyrics and a number of links of YouTube videos. it's here and well worth checking out.
Jackson Browne was an important voice during my university years. His album Late for the Sky was rarely off the turntable and still brings tears to the eyes thirty years later. He's an excellent lyricist and beautiful singer.
He seems to have undergone something of a renaissance in the mid to late 80s and turned out some good songs reflecting on the parlous state of the world and the need for a spirituality that works - Lives in the Balance, The Barricades of Heaven and Looking East are among the best.
Voices like his are rare. Neil Young - another seminal influence, still going strong - lamented recently that there are no young singers manning the barricades and calling the politicians to account, which is why he's out on the road again doing it!
More recent posts on Stephen Sizer's blog contain reviews of his book Christian Zionism by a range of good people, including Stephen Travis and Peter Walker. it looks really worth reading - I found the book really helpful (if a little scary).
Jackson Browne was an important voice during my university years. His album Late for the Sky was rarely off the turntable and still brings tears to the eyes thirty years later. He's an excellent lyricist and beautiful singer.
He seems to have undergone something of a renaissance in the mid to late 80s and turned out some good songs reflecting on the parlous state of the world and the need for a spirituality that works - Lives in the Balance, The Barricades of Heaven and Looking East are among the best.
Voices like his are rare. Neil Young - another seminal influence, still going strong - lamented recently that there are no young singers manning the barricades and calling the politicians to account, which is why he's out on the road again doing it!
More recent posts on Stephen Sizer's blog contain reviews of his book Christian Zionism by a range of good people, including Stephen Travis and Peter Walker. it looks really worth reading - I found the book really helpful (if a little scary).
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
So what - a classic of soul music
Just listening to Radio 4's Soul Music devoted to Miles Davis So What off the Kind of Blue album. Wow! What a piece of music. What a bunch of musicians - including John Coltrane on saxaphone, Bill evans on piano
If you missed the programme, go to the listen again feature on the radio 4 website. You'll not regret it.
Then, like me, you'll need to order the album...
If you missed the programme, go to the listen again feature on the radio 4 website. You'll not regret it.
Then, like me, you'll need to order the album...
The joys of the brief getaway
I struggled through Sunday with a sore throat, kept afloat by adrenalin I think, and crashed yesterday. So I was listening to the news through the day, drifting in and out of sleep, as US stock markets crashed and Congressmen failed to grasp reality.
Last Friday we went over to Amiens in Northern France with friends for a twenty-four hour getaway, ate by the river in the shadow of the cathedral, visited the market, sat in the sunshine enjoying bread, cheese, wine and good company. It was a world away from the shenanigans on world financial markets and the pressure of ministry.So, I'm trying to get my head in gear this morning for the challenges of the week (or maybe that should be weak as I don't feel too brilliant yet). I took delivery over the weekend of Jurgen Moltmann's The Coming of God, his exploration of Christian eschatology. I look forward to dipping into that today, along with Simon ponsonby's really rather good And the Lamb wins.
The series on hope is going fairly well. Reactions in church are positive and the questions I'm getting are helping to shape how we proceed. Having spent three sessions mapping the framework, next time we get much more personal looking at what happens when we die and how Christian hope helps us with our grief.
Our sermons are online now, so you can hear what I'm making of all this here - should you wish to (you'll need to click the downloads button on the right of the welcome screen and follow the links through).
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Keeping the rich to their promises
Well, as some of us feared, the credit crunch is beginning to affect how the rich world is acting towards the poor world. At meetings this week at the UN, France and Canada are wobbling on commitments they've made to helping fund the millennium development goals because of economic wobbles.
You can read about it here, sign the petition and sign up to receive alerts from this intriguing sounding organisation called Avaatz, a campaign and advocacy web portal seeking to empower ordinary people to act together to have their voices heard. It looks good.
It was deeply disheartening to hear Breakfast TV's 'typical' British family responding to Gordon Brown's conference speech by saying that they didn't care what happened in other countries, they just want help to cut their fuel and food bills. They didn't speak for me. I hope they don't speak for many. But it serves as a warning that a little economic gloom can make us inward-looking and more selfish than we normally are.
It's true that I spend more at Sainsbury's now than I did last year. But I've got a full fridge and an over-full stomach. The huge hikes in the cost of basics like rice and wheat, combined with the severe weather affecting many parts of the poor world, means that more people are dying for lack of food.
Now doesn't seem a good time to be turning our backs on those in need.
You can read about it here, sign the petition and sign up to receive alerts from this intriguing sounding organisation called Avaatz, a campaign and advocacy web portal seeking to empower ordinary people to act together to have their voices heard. It looks good.
It was deeply disheartening to hear Breakfast TV's 'typical' British family responding to Gordon Brown's conference speech by saying that they didn't care what happened in other countries, they just want help to cut their fuel and food bills. They didn't speak for me. I hope they don't speak for many. But it serves as a warning that a little economic gloom can make us inward-looking and more selfish than we normally are.
It's true that I spend more at Sainsbury's now than I did last year. But I've got a full fridge and an over-full stomach. The huge hikes in the cost of basics like rice and wheat, combined with the severe weather affecting many parts of the poor world, means that more people are dying for lack of food.
Now doesn't seem a good time to be turning our backs on those in need.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Play games and feed the world
Thanks to Janice who at our harvest service yesterday recommended a website called free rice (you can find it here) where you can play all kinds of games to improve your mental agility and for every answer you get right, twenty grains of rice are given to the world food programme to help eradicate hunger.
So this morning before breakfast I was playing a definitions game and donated 600 grains - not much, but imagine if we all did it!
So this morning before breakfast I was playing a definitions game and donated 600 grains - not much, but imagine if we all did it!
Thursday, September 18, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Market meltdown and the millennium development goals
Have others seen the irony in Barclays acquiring Lehman Brothers US operations for $1bn today but walking away from the opportunity to rescue the group on Saturday despite the chairman of Barclays trumpeting today that it was a great deal at any price?
I was a financial journalist in the early 1980s when Mrs Thatcher was presiding over a financial meltdown that caused similar headlines to the ones we're seeing now. Unemployment hit three million plus, interest rates were in double digits as was inflation. Manufacturers were queuing up to go to the wall. Whole towns were left wasted and broken. In those days, furrowed brows combed the public sector borrowing requirement numbers for evidence of who knows what... There was much chin rubbing and mutterings of 'the markets will correct'.
Now as we face a yet another serious correction in the financial markets and jitters like we've not known for a good while, we are nightly treated to ever younger reporters overdosing on hyperbole as they seek to tell us that things are even worse than they were yesterday. I find myself sounding like the classic grumpy old man, shouting at the TV screen 'how many recessions have you seen, sunny boy?' Of course, when I was pontificating on the state of the economy, I was a mature 25 year old! 'Twas ever thus...
I wonder how much of this might have been avoided by cooler, wiser heads suggesting no one panic, no one buy or sell anything, no one create yet another fictitious financial instrument to make it look as if our asset-base is bigger than it actually is and we are all richer than we really are. I remember an FT ad in the 80s that asked where the money goes in our crazy 24 hour, global securities trading system, asked 'does it even exist?' I wonder...
Soon, it seems, we'll all be banking at the single global financial services conglomerate left after the current meltdown. Funny how unfettered markets and rapacious competition reduces the number of players and the choice left to hapless and baffled consumers.
Nothing like a good rant.... It makes me feel better about my bank being taken over by the bank I left because I wasn't happy with its service. But it also leaves me with a broader question.
When the dust settles, what will have happened to the Millennium Development Goals? How much of the money that was earmarked for achieving those - you know the ones, free primary education for all children by 2015, rising levels of healthcare, access to clean water, action on HIV, TB and malaria - has been diverted into propping up the financial institutions that fuel the global economy that has kept the developing world on its knees for too long?
Bruce Cockburn got it right back in the 1980s when the seeds for this mess were being sown in the privatising policies of the Thatcher/Reagan governments and the IMF started intoning its free-market mantra. He sang: 'spend a buck to make a buck, you don't give a flying f... about the people in poverty.' Now that's high quality economic analysis and commentary from a seasoned hand!
I was a financial journalist in the early 1980s when Mrs Thatcher was presiding over a financial meltdown that caused similar headlines to the ones we're seeing now. Unemployment hit three million plus, interest rates were in double digits as was inflation. Manufacturers were queuing up to go to the wall. Whole towns were left wasted and broken. In those days, furrowed brows combed the public sector borrowing requirement numbers for evidence of who knows what... There was much chin rubbing and mutterings of 'the markets will correct'.
Now as we face a yet another serious correction in the financial markets and jitters like we've not known for a good while, we are nightly treated to ever younger reporters overdosing on hyperbole as they seek to tell us that things are even worse than they were yesterday. I find myself sounding like the classic grumpy old man, shouting at the TV screen 'how many recessions have you seen, sunny boy?' Of course, when I was pontificating on the state of the economy, I was a mature 25 year old! 'Twas ever thus...
I wonder how much of this might have been avoided by cooler, wiser heads suggesting no one panic, no one buy or sell anything, no one create yet another fictitious financial instrument to make it look as if our asset-base is bigger than it actually is and we are all richer than we really are. I remember an FT ad in the 80s that asked where the money goes in our crazy 24 hour, global securities trading system, asked 'does it even exist?' I wonder...
Soon, it seems, we'll all be banking at the single global financial services conglomerate left after the current meltdown. Funny how unfettered markets and rapacious competition reduces the number of players and the choice left to hapless and baffled consumers.
Nothing like a good rant.... It makes me feel better about my bank being taken over by the bank I left because I wasn't happy with its service. But it also leaves me with a broader question.
When the dust settles, what will have happened to the Millennium Development Goals? How much of the money that was earmarked for achieving those - you know the ones, free primary education for all children by 2015, rising levels of healthcare, access to clean water, action on HIV, TB and malaria - has been diverted into propping up the financial institutions that fuel the global economy that has kept the developing world on its knees for too long?
Bruce Cockburn got it right back in the 1980s when the seeds for this mess were being sown in the privatising policies of the Thatcher/Reagan governments and the IMF started intoning its free-market mantra. He sang: 'spend a buck to make a buck, you don't give a flying f... about the people in poverty.' Now that's high quality economic analysis and commentary from a seasoned hand!
hyperbole and market mayhem
It looks like the bank I used to bank with is taking over the bank I moved to to get a better service - the lengths some organisations will go to to keep customers!
LloydsTSB is taking over HBOS - or are they merging, consolidating to weather the chill winds of the worst downturn since hyperbole began?
I wonder if, when the dust settles after all the shenanigans going on in world financial markets, we'll still believe in the myth of unfettered free markets; or will we be able to admit that without governments the economy doesn't work and that the mixed economy of John Maynard Keynes is actually the way things are and that Milton Friedman's pipe dreams lead only to catastrophe - especially for the poor.
It is a curious irony that those who have telling government to leave well alone for the past twenty-five years are now blaming the government for everything that's gone wrong and insisting the government sorts out the mess. Northern Rock shareholders objecting that they weren't getting a fair return on their investment when the bank was nationalised seemed oblivious to the fact that market forces - in the form of their bank going to the wall - would have left them at the back of the queue of creditors and almost certainly with nothing. That's capitalism for you...
Ah well... Providing I can get my money from a hole in the wall, I'm happy (and frankly am not too fussed which combination of barrow boys actually manages it.)
LloydsTSB is taking over HBOS - or are they merging, consolidating to weather the chill winds of the worst downturn since hyperbole began?
I wonder if, when the dust settles after all the shenanigans going on in world financial markets, we'll still believe in the myth of unfettered free markets; or will we be able to admit that without governments the economy doesn't work and that the mixed economy of John Maynard Keynes is actually the way things are and that Milton Friedman's pipe dreams lead only to catastrophe - especially for the poor.
It is a curious irony that those who have telling government to leave well alone for the past twenty-five years are now blaming the government for everything that's gone wrong and insisting the government sorts out the mess. Northern Rock shareholders objecting that they weren't getting a fair return on their investment when the bank was nationalised seemed oblivious to the fact that market forces - in the form of their bank going to the wall - would have left them at the back of the queue of creditors and almost certainly with nothing. That's capitalism for you...
Ah well... Providing I can get my money from a hole in the wall, I'm happy (and frankly am not too fussed which combination of barrow boys actually manages it.)
Belief precedes believing
'To learn a belief without belief is to sing a song without a tune'
The quote is from novelist Ursula LeGuin and I came across it this morning while reading a paper by Joel Green on holiness in 1 Peter.
It stopped me in my tracks.
She goes on to say: 'A yielding, an obedience, a willingness to accept these notes as the right notes, this pattern as the right pattern, is the essential gesture of performance, translation and understanding.'
I find myself thinking something like this when I come across the debate between believing and unbelieving New Testament scholars over who is likely to be the more accurate. I found myself pondering it when watching a video of a debate recently staged in Sheffield between James Crossley and William Lane Craig about the historicity of the resurrection.
I guess the reason it stopped me in my tracks this morning is that it highlights an issue that ministers face on a regular basis. We can expound the content of our belief in a way that congregations understand on a semantic level. But unless they believe, they will not learn the belief we are expounding.
LeGuin goes on: 'the gesture need not be permanent, a lasting posture of the mind or heart; yet it is not false. It is more than the suspension of disbelief needed to watch a play, yet less than a conversion. It is a position, a posture in the dance.'
If we are going to read 1 Peter well, says Green, we need to put ourselves in the place where we adopt Peter's perspective on the world. Only there will we have any chance of seeing whether it makes sense or not; only if we believe what Peter is saying, will we be in a position to believe that it's true of us and that a posture can become a conversion.
The quote is from novelist Ursula LeGuin and I came across it this morning while reading a paper by Joel Green on holiness in 1 Peter.
It stopped me in my tracks.
She goes on to say: 'A yielding, an obedience, a willingness to accept these notes as the right notes, this pattern as the right pattern, is the essential gesture of performance, translation and understanding.'
I find myself thinking something like this when I come across the debate between believing and unbelieving New Testament scholars over who is likely to be the more accurate. I found myself pondering it when watching a video of a debate recently staged in Sheffield between James Crossley and William Lane Craig about the historicity of the resurrection.
I guess the reason it stopped me in my tracks this morning is that it highlights an issue that ministers face on a regular basis. We can expound the content of our belief in a way that congregations understand on a semantic level. But unless they believe, they will not learn the belief we are expounding.
LeGuin goes on: 'the gesture need not be permanent, a lasting posture of the mind or heart; yet it is not false. It is more than the suspension of disbelief needed to watch a play, yet less than a conversion. It is a position, a posture in the dance.'
If we are going to read 1 Peter well, says Green, we need to put ourselves in the place where we adopt Peter's perspective on the world. Only there will we have any chance of seeing whether it makes sense or not; only if we believe what Peter is saying, will we be in a position to believe that it's true of us and that a posture can become a conversion.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Reminded of Moltmann
Roger emailed yesterday to remind me of Jurgen Moltmann on hope. I hadn't forgotten but I hadn't consulted his wonderful Theology of Hope for the present series, thinking it was probably too demanding. But yesterday evening I found this:
'Christianity is eschatology, is hope, forward looking and forward moving, and therefore also revolutionising and transforming the present.' (Theology of Hope SCM 1967, p16).
That pretty much says it all, I think. And this:
'For Christian faith lives from the raising of the crucified Christ and strains after the promises of the universal future of Christ...the eschatological outlook is characteristic of all Christian proclamation, of every Christian existence and of the whole church.'.
Great stuff to ponder on a sunny Sunday morning.
'Christianity is eschatology, is hope, forward looking and forward moving, and therefore also revolutionising and transforming the present.' (Theology of Hope SCM 1967, p16).
That pretty much says it all, I think. And this:
'For Christian faith lives from the raising of the crucified Christ and strains after the promises of the universal future of Christ...the eschatological outlook is characteristic of all Christian proclamation, of every Christian existence and of the whole church.'.
Great stuff to ponder on a sunny Sunday morning.
Friday, September 12, 2008
The dark side of eschatology?
As I've been getting into our series on hope, I've been reading some of Stephen Sizer's material on Israel and Zionism. He is excellent - clear, concise, well-informed and spot-on in his treatment of the biblical material.
It is that last point that makes his contribution on the vexed issue of 'the Bible, Israel and the Church' (the subtitle of his book Zion's Christian Soldiers, IVP 2007) so helpful. Lots of his writing can be found on his website here.
As I've been working through the issues of hope, I am realising that I need to tackle the whole 'end times' industry and the issues it highlights. I'm just not sure how. In a couple of weeks I shall put a toe in the water by talking about millennialism.
My lecturer at LBC, as he outlined the various positions, described himself as pro-milennial - 'whenever it happens, if God wants it, I'm for it,' he says. Can't argue with that!
It is that last point that makes his contribution on the vexed issue of 'the Bible, Israel and the Church' (the subtitle of his book Zion's Christian Soldiers, IVP 2007) so helpful. Lots of his writing can be found on his website here.
As I've been working through the issues of hope, I am realising that I need to tackle the whole 'end times' industry and the issues it highlights. I'm just not sure how. In a couple of weeks I shall put a toe in the water by talking about millennialism.
My lecturer at LBC, as he outlined the various positions, described himself as pro-milennial - 'whenever it happens, if God wants it, I'm for it,' he says. Can't argue with that!
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Getting together in convivial surroundings
Sometimes the world gets what the church has forgotten it knows.
Good friends sent this link to a cafe/restaurant that seems to have grasped something about the social nature of eating.
They probably aren't the only ones - though they do seem to do it very nicely (I'll have to go and check it out).
As Leonard Sweet points out in his book, The Gospel According to Starbucks, that cafe chain is only partially interested in selling you a coffee. it's much more interested in enabling you to connect with friends and have an experience that is life-affirming.
Of course, it hopes that if it does that, it'll make more money, but let's not be too cynical because anything that helps people come together in a world that's falling apart has to be a good thing. maybe we should be in there helping it happen.
Good friends sent this link to a cafe/restaurant that seems to have grasped something about the social nature of eating.
They probably aren't the only ones - though they do seem to do it very nicely (I'll have to go and check it out).
As Leonard Sweet points out in his book, The Gospel According to Starbucks, that cafe chain is only partially interested in selling you a coffee. it's much more interested in enabling you to connect with friends and have an experience that is life-affirming.
Of course, it hopes that if it does that, it'll make more money, but let's not be too cynical because anything that helps people come together in a world that's falling apart has to be a good thing. maybe we should be in there helping it happen.
Three cheers for Elbow
Great to see Elbow picking up the Mercury Prize for their album The Seldom Seen Kid the day before yesterday. What a result!
Elbow are one of the best bands in Britain - great tunes, wonderfully arranged and fabulous song writing from the almost peerless Guy Garvey. The Seldom Seen Kid is the band's fourth album and probably their best - though each one is pretty brilliant. The previous effort, Leaders of the Free World is a stunning piece of work containing one of my favourite tracks of all time (The Everthere).
Should you not be a fan, you can check out the album here (the site's a work of art in itself) and more about the band here
Elbow are one of the best bands in Britain - great tunes, wonderfully arranged and fabulous song writing from the almost peerless Guy Garvey. The Seldom Seen Kid is the band's fourth album and probably their best - though each one is pretty brilliant. The previous effort, Leaders of the Free World is a stunning piece of work containing one of my favourite tracks of all time (The Everthere).
Should you not be a fan, you can check out the album here (the site's a work of art in itself) and more about the band here
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Getting excited with Isaiah
As I get into our series on hope, I'm scurrying around my study looking for resources that might contain answers to questions that are popping into my head. Well, today as I was reading Isaiah 65 I kept asking myself where I got the idea that Isaiah spoke about the nations bringing their wealth into Jerusalem and that this act was a key part of Isaiah's vision of the end times?
I found my old tattered copy of Richard Mouw's When the Kings Come Marching in: Isaiah and the New Jerusalem (Eerdmans 1983) and realised that this little book has shaped my understanding of eschatology probably more than any other text (apart from the Bible). It was republished in a revised and expanded form in 2002 (I've ordered that).
I read it the year it came out and remember being very excited about it. Since then, its message has insinuated itself into my thinking about the coming city of God, life after the eschaton, all that stuff. And today, as I read what Mouw has to say about Isaiah 60, an enigmatic chapter that John Goldingay suggests is 'the longest unstructured stream-of-consciousness prophecy in Isaiah', I found myself getting really excited all over again.
In particular Mouw points out that a number of characters - notably the ships of Tarshish - which are judged earlier in Isaiah, feature in chapter 60 coming laden with goods and gifts into the holy city to serve God. What's happening? Mouw suggests that earlier references to these players are about purification, not destruction and that what's happening in Isaiah 60 is a description of God redeeming culture, the fruits of human creativity.
Starting from Psalm 24:1 - 'the earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof' - Mouw takes us back to Genesis 2 and the mandate to subdue and fill the earth, arguing that the 'fillings' that humans make are our cultural artifacts, arts and crafts, political and economic systems, everything that makes life sustainable (and unsustainable - because of the Fall) on planet earth. All this is not written off by God. Rather it is redeemed, washed and brushed up for the great parade as His holy city is revealed to his rather stunned people.
More than that the politicians who have 'filled the earth' with governments that have instigated wars and campaigns for justice, empire building and grand initiatives to feed the hungry will march into the city to account for themselves before the people they ruled over. God will decide between them (Isaiah 2:4) as they bow before the king of kings (Phil 2:11) who has stripped them of their power (Col 2:15) and who exercises judgment on behalf of those who've suffered at their hands and cry out for a just accounting (Rev 6:9-11; 1 Pet 2:12, etc).
Whatever is going on in Isaiah 60 - and it is impressionistic and raises all sorts of questions about who remains in the city, for how long and what is the nature of the final judgement, of the settling of accounts and setting things straight - one thing is certain: the eschatological hope of the Bible - for this and other Isaianic texts sweep into the New Testament underpinning all its eschatological teaching - is absolutely rooted on planet earth; it is a physical, tangible hope with a recognisable shape. More than that, the way we live now, the things with which we fill the earth, shapes what we experience there.
In God's eschatological scheme our lives matter. How exciting is that?!
I found my old tattered copy of Richard Mouw's When the Kings Come Marching in: Isaiah and the New Jerusalem (Eerdmans 1983) and realised that this little book has shaped my understanding of eschatology probably more than any other text (apart from the Bible). It was republished in a revised and expanded form in 2002 (I've ordered that).
I read it the year it came out and remember being very excited about it. Since then, its message has insinuated itself into my thinking about the coming city of God, life after the eschaton, all that stuff. And today, as I read what Mouw has to say about Isaiah 60, an enigmatic chapter that John Goldingay suggests is 'the longest unstructured stream-of-consciousness prophecy in Isaiah', I found myself getting really excited all over again.
In particular Mouw points out that a number of characters - notably the ships of Tarshish - which are judged earlier in Isaiah, feature in chapter 60 coming laden with goods and gifts into the holy city to serve God. What's happening? Mouw suggests that earlier references to these players are about purification, not destruction and that what's happening in Isaiah 60 is a description of God redeeming culture, the fruits of human creativity.
Starting from Psalm 24:1 - 'the earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof' - Mouw takes us back to Genesis 2 and the mandate to subdue and fill the earth, arguing that the 'fillings' that humans make are our cultural artifacts, arts and crafts, political and economic systems, everything that makes life sustainable (and unsustainable - because of the Fall) on planet earth. All this is not written off by God. Rather it is redeemed, washed and brushed up for the great parade as His holy city is revealed to his rather stunned people.
More than that the politicians who have 'filled the earth' with governments that have instigated wars and campaigns for justice, empire building and grand initiatives to feed the hungry will march into the city to account for themselves before the people they ruled over. God will decide between them (Isaiah 2:4) as they bow before the king of kings (Phil 2:11) who has stripped them of their power (Col 2:15) and who exercises judgment on behalf of those who've suffered at their hands and cry out for a just accounting (Rev 6:9-11; 1 Pet 2:12, etc).
Whatever is going on in Isaiah 60 - and it is impressionistic and raises all sorts of questions about who remains in the city, for how long and what is the nature of the final judgement, of the settling of accounts and setting things straight - one thing is certain: the eschatological hope of the Bible - for this and other Isaianic texts sweep into the New Testament underpinning all its eschatological teaching - is absolutely rooted on planet earth; it is a physical, tangible hope with a recognisable shape. More than that, the way we live now, the things with which we fill the earth, shapes what we experience there.
In God's eschatological scheme our lives matter. How exciting is that?!
Monday, September 08, 2008
the excitement of preaching
One of the things I love about starting new teaching series (that's a plural, by the way, so read it accordingly...!) is the sense of wonder I get at discovering new things. I think this is probably a good thing. I think preachers should get excited about what they are learning so that they preach as those who are sharing new discoveries.
Of course, I'm not discovering things that I didn't know about or which are changing my core beliefs about God, the world and our place in both. Rather I am unearthing new links between familiar things, like seeing an old master painting from a new angle or with a fresh set of questions in mind.
I'm reminded of the statement that the great historian Christopher Hill makes at the beginning of his quite wonderful The World Turned Upside Down: 'history has to be rewritten in every generation, because although the past does not change, the present does; each generation asks new questions of the past, and finds new areas of sympathy as it relives different aspects of the experiences of his predecessors.'
I thinks that's true of every preaching series. We use our familiar text - the Bible - and our well-known beliefs and understandings of its message - variously known as our doctrines or theology. But each time we embark on a series, we ask a fresh set of questions, bring new experiences and seek to make new connections between different parts of the material and between the material and the audience. The result is that we see things in new ways and, for this preacher at least, make sometimes startling and exciting new patterns out of familiar words and images.
All this has me enthusiastically opening my commentaries and other resources and wrestling with the text of scripture with a smile on my face. It also helps when - as happened this past Sunday - people respond positively to the journey you've invited them to join you on.
Of course, I'm not discovering things that I didn't know about or which are changing my core beliefs about God, the world and our place in both. Rather I am unearthing new links between familiar things, like seeing an old master painting from a new angle or with a fresh set of questions in mind.
I'm reminded of the statement that the great historian Christopher Hill makes at the beginning of his quite wonderful The World Turned Upside Down: 'history has to be rewritten in every generation, because although the past does not change, the present does; each generation asks new questions of the past, and finds new areas of sympathy as it relives different aspects of the experiences of his predecessors.'
I thinks that's true of every preaching series. We use our familiar text - the Bible - and our well-known beliefs and understandings of its message - variously known as our doctrines or theology. But each time we embark on a series, we ask a fresh set of questions, bring new experiences and seek to make new connections between different parts of the material and between the material and the audience. The result is that we see things in new ways and, for this preacher at least, make sometimes startling and exciting new patterns out of familiar words and images.
All this has me enthusiastically opening my commentaries and other resources and wrestling with the text of scripture with a smile on my face. It also helps when - as happened this past Sunday - people respond positively to the journey you've invited them to join you on.
Friday, September 05, 2008
The Age of the Understatement
This week I've been listening to the wonderful album by the Last Shadow Puppets, the side project of Arctic Monkey's front man, Alex Turner and Rascals Miles Kane. It's a blinder.
I'm not familiar with the Rascals, but Turner is fast becoming the premier songsmith in Britain. The album, The Age of the Understatement, is a collection of exquisitely crafted songs that wouldn't be out of place on a mid-60s Walker Brothers album. It's full of lush strings and twangy guitars, tricksy key changes and fabulous harmonies.
Pretty much everything they try comes off and as well a clutch of great tunes, the lyrics are a master class in how to write bittersweet love songs.
Try it. you'll not be disappointed.
I'm not familiar with the Rascals, but Turner is fast becoming the premier songsmith in Britain. The album, The Age of the Understatement, is a collection of exquisitely crafted songs that wouldn't be out of place on a mid-60s Walker Brothers album. It's full of lush strings and twangy guitars, tricksy key changes and fabulous harmonies.
Pretty much everything they try comes off and as well a clutch of great tunes, the lyrics are a master class in how to write bittersweet love songs.
Try it. you'll not be disappointed.
Welcome to the blogosphere
I don't often do this, but I thought I'd welcome IBTS to the blogosphere. Various luminaries from that august institution are posting on a college blog. Good stuff so far, including a post on IBTS hero James McClendon by our very own Ian Randall - well worth a read.
The picture of Vanessa is priceless!
Hopefully Phil and Alex will be posting soon on the joys of cats...or is that CATs....?
You can get it here
The picture of Vanessa is priceless!
Hopefully Phil and Alex will be posting soon on the joys of cats...or is that CATs....?
You can get it here
More on why eating together matters
We entertained a couple for dinner yesterday and had a lovely time.
In many ways they exemplify one or two of the issues we wrestle with as a church. In a previous generation, they would probably be at the heart of the institutional life of the church, serving on the diaconate, heavily involved in fellowship and outreach meetings.
As it is, they struggle to get to home group and wonder what the point is of many of the things that church does.
This morning, as I was reflecting on our time together, I began to ask myself whether we stress too much the gathering of believers in large numbers for what we all know of as 'church' - singing, listening, praying, reading scripture, hearing sermons, sharing coffee afterwards.
Then I read 1 Samuel 12:23-24 where the aging prophet tells Israel what he's done - prayed for them and declared God's word - and reminds them what they must do - fear the Lord, serve him faithfully and remember all he's done for them.
Now, you could argue that that is as good a description of church as you'd ever find and yet it seems to me to be a minimalist understanding of it. Do we fret too much over programmes, getting everyone together, ensuring we're all on the same page, moving ahead at the same pace? Does this mean we sacrifice real learning of the faith, living out its implications and sharing one another's lives as we do it?
I'm not sure I have any answers... But yet again, interesting things were happening as we gathered to share food around a table and enjoy one another's company. I feel a theme coming on!
In many ways they exemplify one or two of the issues we wrestle with as a church. In a previous generation, they would probably be at the heart of the institutional life of the church, serving on the diaconate, heavily involved in fellowship and outreach meetings.
As it is, they struggle to get to home group and wonder what the point is of many of the things that church does.
This morning, as I was reflecting on our time together, I began to ask myself whether we stress too much the gathering of believers in large numbers for what we all know of as 'church' - singing, listening, praying, reading scripture, hearing sermons, sharing coffee afterwards.
Then I read 1 Samuel 12:23-24 where the aging prophet tells Israel what he's done - prayed for them and declared God's word - and reminds them what they must do - fear the Lord, serve him faithfully and remember all he's done for them.
Now, you could argue that that is as good a description of church as you'd ever find and yet it seems to me to be a minimalist understanding of it. Do we fret too much over programmes, getting everyone together, ensuring we're all on the same page, moving ahead at the same pace? Does this mean we sacrifice real learning of the faith, living out its implications and sharing one another's lives as we do it?
I'm not sure I have any answers... But yet again, interesting things were happening as we gathered to share food around a table and enjoy one another's company. I feel a theme coming on!
Monday, September 01, 2008
In praise of slowing down
We said a tearful farewell to Jonathan yesterday as he moves on to pastures new in Wolverhampton. Although he's only been with us for a couple of years, it felt like the end of an era. It's been great to have him, things have happened as a result of his being with us that wouldn't have happened otherwise; we're grateful for his input.
But life goes on. Out with the old, in with the new. In the relentless treadmill of church, we start new teaching programmes next Sunday. As Jonathan himself pointed out yesterday, September is always the start of things - new terms, new seasons and, for him, new adventures in ministry.
It would be wonderful to build a certain calmness into the church's programme. It has a sense of relentlessly marching on, reaching ever higher and further, demanding ever increasing amounts of creativity and resourcefulness. Sometimes I wonder whether it's healthy.
Someone reminded me of Juan Carlos Ortiz last week - in particular his approach to discipleship - and I remember him talking once about his approach to treaching. He'd preach on the same subject for a number of weeks until he was sure that his people had not only got it but also started to live it. Done the right way that would offer lots of time and space for reflection and discussion, teasing out the implications of a word before it needed to be filed away as the next one came along.
I am hoping (sorry) that our series on hope will enable us to slow the pace a little. We will be emphasising certain core truths of our faith and reflecting on how they stimulate good living in God's people. Hopefully (sorry again) there will be a sense of each week building on and unpacking what we discovered in previous weeks, helping us grow in understanding and application of wonderful words from God about our future.
Maybe the same will happen as we look at identity from 1 Peter. There's a danger when doing an expository series on a book that you get caught up in detail and a desire to expound and explain and unpack a vast amount of information. I'm hoping that our focus on what Peter says about who we are, will enable us to spend a few weeks thinking about a few select things, allowing them to soak into us.
I guess in short I'd like us to be marinaded in a selection of truth over the coming weeks so that our lives take on the flavour of it.
But life goes on. Out with the old, in with the new. In the relentless treadmill of church, we start new teaching programmes next Sunday. As Jonathan himself pointed out yesterday, September is always the start of things - new terms, new seasons and, for him, new adventures in ministry.
It would be wonderful to build a certain calmness into the church's programme. It has a sense of relentlessly marching on, reaching ever higher and further, demanding ever increasing amounts of creativity and resourcefulness. Sometimes I wonder whether it's healthy.
Someone reminded me of Juan Carlos Ortiz last week - in particular his approach to discipleship - and I remember him talking once about his approach to treaching. He'd preach on the same subject for a number of weeks until he was sure that his people had not only got it but also started to live it. Done the right way that would offer lots of time and space for reflection and discussion, teasing out the implications of a word before it needed to be filed away as the next one came along.
I am hoping (sorry) that our series on hope will enable us to slow the pace a little. We will be emphasising certain core truths of our faith and reflecting on how they stimulate good living in God's people. Hopefully (sorry again) there will be a sense of each week building on and unpacking what we discovered in previous weeks, helping us grow in understanding and application of wonderful words from God about our future.
Maybe the same will happen as we look at identity from 1 Peter. There's a danger when doing an expository series on a book that you get caught up in detail and a desire to expound and explain and unpack a vast amount of information. I'm hoping that our focus on what Peter says about who we are, will enable us to spend a few weeks thinking about a few select things, allowing them to soak into us.
I guess in short I'd like us to be marinaded in a selection of truth over the coming weeks so that our lives take on the flavour of it.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
What hospitality does
We had a fabulous evening last night in the convivial surroundings of the home of good friends at our church. The food was gorgeous, the conversation refreshing, the attention to detail of our host and hostess - from the way the table was laid to ensuring our glasses were filled as necessary - was perfect. It was one of those truly refreshing occasions - just what I needed at the end of a busy week.
It was a reminder, if I needed it, of what hospitality does and how essential it is. If only the church could bottle this spirit and pour it over its gatherings.
So many of Jesus' significant encounters happened at the table, in the extended, time-rich surroundings of a meal. Conversation cannot be hurried, real issues cannot be buried in agendas, no one can hide behind their job title. Here is where humans touch and life and grace, love and mercy are exchanged. This is where people find themselves and each other - and in the course of the meal, God (whether they were expecting him or not).
In the story of Zacchaeus, Jesus came to dinner and salvation came to the house. If only that happened more often in our neighbourhoods
It was a reminder, if I needed it, of what hospitality does and how essential it is. If only the church could bottle this spirit and pour it over its gatherings.
So many of Jesus' significant encounters happened at the table, in the extended, time-rich surroundings of a meal. Conversation cannot be hurried, real issues cannot be buried in agendas, no one can hide behind their job title. Here is where humans touch and life and grace, love and mercy are exchanged. This is where people find themselves and each other - and in the course of the meal, God (whether they were expecting him or not).
In the story of Zacchaeus, Jesus came to dinner and salvation came to the house. If only that happened more often in our neighbourhoods
Friday, August 29, 2008
The dark art of sermon preparation
Finished preparing for Sunday - and strangely it was like pulling teeth. This morning I felt really muddled-headed and unable to concentrate. But the grey matter started to clear after lunch.
I have focused on three aspects of the story of Zacchaeus that are Lucan favourites - finance, family and faith (remember I still carry the DNA of an unreconstructed evangelical baptist about my person!) - and I think it works ok.
Sermon preparation is still something of a mystery to me. Earlier in the week, I was feeling pretty chilled, on top of the passage and knowing generally what I wanted to say. Today, I looked at a blank screen and wondered if the passage would ever reveal its treasures.
Then suddenly it takes shape - first in my mind and then, through my fingers, on the screen. And it seems to come in a flash. One moment there's nothing, then there's a page of relatively coherent notes, then there's a worksheet and an edited version of the notes. And before I know it, I'm having a cup of tea, putting the finishing touches to the PowerPoint wondering where it all comes from.
Of course, a sermon's not really finished until it's been preached because, after all, this is an oral art form not a written one. So I don't know whether it's any good yet... But then, when are we are able to assess that - as we deliver it? As people comment immediately afterwards? Weeks later when an echo of what was said turns up in conversation or a question or an email?
I have focused on three aspects of the story of Zacchaeus that are Lucan favourites - finance, family and faith (remember I still carry the DNA of an unreconstructed evangelical baptist about my person!) - and I think it works ok.
Sermon preparation is still something of a mystery to me. Earlier in the week, I was feeling pretty chilled, on top of the passage and knowing generally what I wanted to say. Today, I looked at a blank screen and wondered if the passage would ever reveal its treasures.
Then suddenly it takes shape - first in my mind and then, through my fingers, on the screen. And it seems to come in a flash. One moment there's nothing, then there's a page of relatively coherent notes, then there's a worksheet and an edited version of the notes. And before I know it, I'm having a cup of tea, putting the finishing touches to the PowerPoint wondering where it all comes from.
Of course, a sermon's not really finished until it's been preached because, after all, this is an oral art form not a written one. So I don't know whether it's any good yet... But then, when are we are able to assess that - as we deliver it? As people comment immediately afterwards? Weeks later when an echo of what was said turns up in conversation or a question or an email?
Thursday, August 28, 2008
The beauty and brilliance of Bailey
While preparing for Sunday's teaching on Luke, I have been reminded just what a wonderful scholar Ken Bailey is.
We're looking at the story of Zacchaeus and Bailey begins his reading with the simple observation that both this story and the one before it (the healing of the blind man) take place in Jericho (a fact obscured by our chapter divisions!).
So what we have is a single story in two acts of how Jesus offers the same unconditional love to both oppressed and oppressor alike. From this flows the fact that the crowd is a key character in both stories with their affections swaying one way, then the other as the narrative unfolds - and of course, it's the crowd in which we are located.
Bailey also shows how his understanding of repentance as 'the acceptance of being found' works itself out in both halves of the story. It's great stuff. And it's beautifully written as well - unusual in New testament scholarship.
You really ought to own (as well as consult regularly) Kenneth E Bailey Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes: Cultural Studies in the Gospels (IVP 2008). Alongside this Jacob & the Prodigal: How Jesus retold Israel's Story (BRF 2003) and the combined volume Poet & Peasant and Through Peasant Eyes: A literary-cultural approach to the parables in Luke (Eerdmans 1983) are also essential reading.
We're looking at the story of Zacchaeus and Bailey begins his reading with the simple observation that both this story and the one before it (the healing of the blind man) take place in Jericho (a fact obscured by our chapter divisions!).
So what we have is a single story in two acts of how Jesus offers the same unconditional love to both oppressed and oppressor alike. From this flows the fact that the crowd is a key character in both stories with their affections swaying one way, then the other as the narrative unfolds - and of course, it's the crowd in which we are located.
Bailey also shows how his understanding of repentance as 'the acceptance of being found' works itself out in both halves of the story. It's great stuff. And it's beautifully written as well - unusual in New testament scholarship.
You really ought to own (as well as consult regularly) Kenneth E Bailey Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes: Cultural Studies in the Gospels (IVP 2008). Alongside this Jacob & the Prodigal: How Jesus retold Israel's Story (BRF 2003) and the combined volume Poet & Peasant and Through Peasant Eyes: A literary-cultural approach to the parables in Luke (Eerdmans 1983) are also essential reading.
Our series on hope
Well, having ruminated on big words, here's an outline for our forthcoming series on hope. The titles are suitably vague, allowing us to respond to issues as they arise in the minds of those listening and interacting with the teaching.
Having begun by asking what aspects of hope Peter expects us to be talking about both to each other and the wider, watching world - taking 1 Peter 2:14-16 as our spring board - we will tackle the subject under eight broad headings:
hope and creation (Isaiah 65:17-25 - just what did Israel's prophets expect of the future?)
hope and new creation (1 Corinthians 2:9 - how did the coming of Jesus affect that?)
hope and grief (1 Thessalonians 4 - where is hope in a world of pain and loss?)
hope and my future (1 Corinthians 15 - what's my destiny in Christ?)
hope and our future (Hebrews 13:14 - God's plans are for his people, not just individuals)
hope and my present (1 John 3:3 - the future affects my lifestyle here and now)
hope and our present (Colossians 1:24-29 - the church is a community modelled on the future)
hope and my journey (Philippians 3:20 - hope calls us on to the future God has for us)
Hopefully (sorry!), this outline is flexible enough for us to be responsive to people's concerns and questions as we make our way through the series. I have high hopes (sorry again!!) that God has a lot to say to us as we take this journey together. That's my prayer.
Having begun by asking what aspects of hope Peter expects us to be talking about both to each other and the wider, watching world - taking 1 Peter 2:14-16 as our spring board - we will tackle the subject under eight broad headings:
hope and creation (Isaiah 65:17-25 - just what did Israel's prophets expect of the future?)
hope and new creation (1 Corinthians 2:9 - how did the coming of Jesus affect that?)
hope and grief (1 Thessalonians 4 - where is hope in a world of pain and loss?)
hope and my future (1 Corinthians 15 - what's my destiny in Christ?)
hope and our future (Hebrews 13:14 - God's plans are for his people, not just individuals)
hope and my present (1 John 3:3 - the future affects my lifestyle here and now)
hope and our present (Colossians 1:24-29 - the church is a community modelled on the future)
hope and my journey (Philippians 3:20 - hope calls us on to the future God has for us)
Hopefully (sorry!), this outline is flexible enough for us to be responsive to people's concerns and questions as we make our way through the series. I have high hopes (sorry again!!) that God has a lot to say to us as we take this journey together. That's my prayer.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Books on hope
The Goldingay quote in my previous posting is from a very helpful collection of essays called What are We Waiting for? Christian Hope and Contemporary Culture edited by Stephen Holmes and Russell Rook (Paternoster 2008), published to compliment Spring Harvest's theme this year.
It's a collection of biblical, historical and theological studies on hope by some top people. I'd say it was essential reading on the subject.
Also worth reading are, of course, Tom Wright's Surprised by Hope (SPCK 2007) and his grove booklet New Heavens, New earth: The Biblical Picture of Christian Hope (Grove Biblical Series number 11 1999), an expansion of his Drew Lecture delivered at Spurgeon's College in 1993.
David Lawrence Heaven...it's not the end of the world (SU 1995 - though it might have been republished by someone else more recently) is also really good - a genuine entry-level guide to all things eschatological.
Krish and Miriam Kandiah's Spring Harvest study guide Finding an Unshakeable Hope (Authentic 2008) is also worth checking out, though to my mind it only covers half the field; the half it covers, however, it covers very well.
It's a collection of biblical, historical and theological studies on hope by some top people. I'd say it was essential reading on the subject.
Also worth reading are, of course, Tom Wright's Surprised by Hope (SPCK 2007) and his grove booklet New Heavens, New earth: The Biblical Picture of Christian Hope (Grove Biblical Series number 11 1999), an expansion of his Drew Lecture delivered at Spurgeon's College in 1993.
David Lawrence Heaven...it's not the end of the world (SU 1995 - though it might have been republished by someone else more recently) is also really good - a genuine entry-level guide to all things eschatological.
Krish and Miriam Kandiah's Spring Harvest study guide Finding an Unshakeable Hope (Authentic 2008) is also worth checking out, though to my mind it only covers half the field; the half it covers, however, it covers very well.
Apocalypse now...
I said I'd blog on whether apocalyptic is a better word than eschatology for talking about how Christians think about the future.
Since posting last on this issue, I came across this quote from John Goldingay: 'I tell students that whenever they use the word eschatology they should was their mouths out with soap, because it sounds like a technical term with a defined meaning, but actually means different things to different people.' Astute as ever.
And he could substitute the word apocalyptic where he uses eschatology. For while there is broad agreement on what constitutes apocalyptic writing, there are a range of views on what apocalyptic thinking is and more particularly how it impacts on early Christian thinking about what God has achieved through Jesus and how that affects the future of creation.
So, most agree that apocalyptic writing is concerned with the future of God's people, that it generally features an angel revealing to a prophet/author what is about to happen and what the signs of it will be. For that reason, apocalyptic writing is often lurid and complex - just ask most Christians to explain the message of Revelation (from where the word apocalypse as a type of literature comes) in a couple of sentences!
The reason why the adjective could be a useful substitute for eschatology is that the literature gave rise to a a series of key ideas in the emerging Christian faith. The great New Testament scholar, J Louis Martyn, argues that Paul's theology is apocalyptic through and through. His argument is pretty convincing (at least as far as I'm concerned).
It is from apocalyptic that the early Christians got their understanding of justification, the coming of the Holy Spirit, the certainty of resurrection, the defeat of the forces of evil and the re-patterning of the created order once that defeat had happened.
However, the biggest contribution that apocalyptic thinking makes on a Christian understanding of the world has to do with the relationship between the present age and the age to come. In most apocalyptic writing there is a contrast between the age in which we live - which is evil and, in particular, one where God's people are persecuted - and the age to come - where justice and peace, prosperity and wholeness are the order of the day. Separating these two ages is a single moment when God intervenes to end the old age and bring in the new one.
Jesus came teaching that the new age was dawning in his ministry and yet the old age was still running. Early Christian teachers argued that Jesus decisively defeated the powers of the old age on the cross and ushered in the new age - of justification, peace with God, new creation, the presence of the Holy Spirit, etc - and that new age runs alongside the old one.
What this does is to make what Christians hope for accessible to some extent in the present. Our hope of a new world inspires our action to make this world better, for example. Apocalyptic is hugely important for our understanding of Christian hope and Christian lifestyle in our present fallen world as we follow Jesus in anticipation of the new age that is dawning through his life, death and resurrection.
But, it takes a bit of explaining and I'm fairly sure that talking about hope and how that affects our lives here are now does the job just as well. So, no doubt occasionally we'll make fleeting reference to these technical terms but generally we'll be talking about hope - what we hope for and how that hope affects how we live in today's world.
Since posting last on this issue, I came across this quote from John Goldingay: 'I tell students that whenever they use the word eschatology they should was their mouths out with soap, because it sounds like a technical term with a defined meaning, but actually means different things to different people.' Astute as ever.
And he could substitute the word apocalyptic where he uses eschatology. For while there is broad agreement on what constitutes apocalyptic writing, there are a range of views on what apocalyptic thinking is and more particularly how it impacts on early Christian thinking about what God has achieved through Jesus and how that affects the future of creation.
So, most agree that apocalyptic writing is concerned with the future of God's people, that it generally features an angel revealing to a prophet/author what is about to happen and what the signs of it will be. For that reason, apocalyptic writing is often lurid and complex - just ask most Christians to explain the message of Revelation (from where the word apocalypse as a type of literature comes) in a couple of sentences!
The reason why the adjective could be a useful substitute for eschatology is that the literature gave rise to a a series of key ideas in the emerging Christian faith. The great New Testament scholar, J Louis Martyn, argues that Paul's theology is apocalyptic through and through. His argument is pretty convincing (at least as far as I'm concerned).
It is from apocalyptic that the early Christians got their understanding of justification, the coming of the Holy Spirit, the certainty of resurrection, the defeat of the forces of evil and the re-patterning of the created order once that defeat had happened.
However, the biggest contribution that apocalyptic thinking makes on a Christian understanding of the world has to do with the relationship between the present age and the age to come. In most apocalyptic writing there is a contrast between the age in which we live - which is evil and, in particular, one where God's people are persecuted - and the age to come - where justice and peace, prosperity and wholeness are the order of the day. Separating these two ages is a single moment when God intervenes to end the old age and bring in the new one.
Jesus came teaching that the new age was dawning in his ministry and yet the old age was still running. Early Christian teachers argued that Jesus decisively defeated the powers of the old age on the cross and ushered in the new age - of justification, peace with God, new creation, the presence of the Holy Spirit, etc - and that new age runs alongside the old one.
What this does is to make what Christians hope for accessible to some extent in the present. Our hope of a new world inspires our action to make this world better, for example. Apocalyptic is hugely important for our understanding of Christian hope and Christian lifestyle in our present fallen world as we follow Jesus in anticipation of the new age that is dawning through his life, death and resurrection.
But, it takes a bit of explaining and I'm fairly sure that talking about hope and how that affects our lives here are now does the job just as well. So, no doubt occasionally we'll make fleeting reference to these technical terms but generally we'll be talking about hope - what we hope for and how that hope affects how we live in today's world.
Monday, August 25, 2008
...and the winner is...
What can I say, I have been honoured by Catriona with a blog award - and here's the award logo (left) to prove it. I haven't prepared a speech but I'd just like to thank my parents, neighbours, wife, children, countless church members too numerous to mention, every family pet and the man with the beard who keeps coming to my house claiming to work with me. I couldn't have blogged without them...
Of course, I know have to nominate 7 other worthy bloggers. Worse, I have to work out to put their blog names as a hyperlink so that people can just run their mouse over the name and be taken straight to their wonderful, insightful and entertaining sites.
What's more, I can't nominate those already named by Catriona - who has excellent taste in blogs!
So here goes...
Christendom - Chris Tilling's anarchic NT blog about to relocate from Germany to London
Euangelion - Michael Bird and Joel Willetts always excellent and informative NT blog
the red pill - Jonathan Somerville's richly entertaining and prescient blog that I will be following more closely in the coming weeks
The Stuff of the Earth - Michael Pahl's NT blog
the word at the barricades - Stuart Blythe's witty and trenchant blog
simply simon - an Australian blog by a theologian-cook - there aren't enough of those in the world!
tall skinny kiwi - the original blog by Andrew Jones, great thinker and communicator on the fringe of the emerging community of followers of Jesus. Still crazy after all these years. Still essential reading.
Have fun with all of these. Hopefully they'll nominate a few in their turn...
Thursday, August 21, 2008
More on the 'E' word
Well, we fell at the first hurdle with the 'E' word.
Eschatology is a word derived from the Greek word eschaton which means 'the end' and eschata meaning 'the things of the end' with ology derived from the Greek word logos meaning 'the study of' or 'words about' tagged on the end.
So, strictly speaking eschatology is the study of the end or things about the end and in Christian theology was traditionally associated with the end of the world and the second coming of Christ, the last judgement and the new heavens and the new earth.
Simon makes a good point that it's all very well to use the 'E' word in lectures but in a series at church, where you might define it in week 1, people will have forgotten what it means by week 2 or 3 and the preacher will forget to keep defining it.
Even at Spring Harvest this year, where I gather it was being regularly used in all the morning seminars, there were still baffled folk in various places asking what it actually meant.
When I was writing my Bible guide on Galatians and my Discovering the New Testament, I tended to use the word apocalyptic to describe similar ideas because the word apocalypse is at least in general use and so is not an entirely unfamiliar term.
Indeed I remember having a robust exchange of views with my then editor over whether people in church should know and understand what a word like eschatology means. Fortunately for all my readers, she prevailed and we didn't use it.
So, the 'E' word will probably not feature as we look at reasons to be hopeful. I will blog soon on why apocalyptic is a good word and whether we might use that one. I'd be interested in your views.
Eschatology is a word derived from the Greek word eschaton which means 'the end' and eschata meaning 'the things of the end' with ology derived from the Greek word logos meaning 'the study of' or 'words about' tagged on the end.
So, strictly speaking eschatology is the study of the end or things about the end and in Christian theology was traditionally associated with the end of the world and the second coming of Christ, the last judgement and the new heavens and the new earth.
Simon makes a good point that it's all very well to use the 'E' word in lectures but in a series at church, where you might define it in week 1, people will have forgotten what it means by week 2 or 3 and the preacher will forget to keep defining it.
Even at Spring Harvest this year, where I gather it was being regularly used in all the morning seminars, there were still baffled folk in various places asking what it actually meant.
When I was writing my Bible guide on Galatians and my Discovering the New Testament, I tended to use the word apocalyptic to describe similar ideas because the word apocalypse is at least in general use and so is not an entirely unfamiliar term.
Indeed I remember having a robust exchange of views with my then editor over whether people in church should know and understand what a word like eschatology means. Fortunately for all my readers, she prevailed and we didn't use it.
So, the 'E' word will probably not feature as we look at reasons to be hopeful. I will blog soon on why apocalyptic is a good word and whether we might use that one. I'd be interested in your views.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Shall I use the 'E' word?
So, I've been thinking a bit about our forthcoming series on hope, trying to give it some shape and find Bible passages that illustrate different aspects of the theme.
And I've hit my first issue: do I use the 'E' word?
They used it at Spring Harvest and it was marvellous to see all kinds of, I assume, Charismatic Christians talking earnestly over their Butlins' carry outs about 'Eschatology'. I imagine this doesn't happen in most churches across the UK on an average Sunday.
Did it help people? Well, you'll have to ask them. But the ones I talked to did find the word quite useful for labelling the full extent of Christian hope. It enabled them to see that hope is about more than the second coming and whether that's to be expected before, during or after the tribulation/millennium/rapture. Indeed it enabled most of them to realise that they could jettison the theology of the Left Behind series and still remain perfectly sound Bible believing Christians.
So, shall I be using the 'E' word?
I am tempted to because it will enable us to set the series - reasons to be hopeful - in the context of a full-orbed grasp of Christian thinking about the future and how it affects our lives in the present. What do you think?
And I've hit my first issue: do I use the 'E' word?
They used it at Spring Harvest and it was marvellous to see all kinds of, I assume, Charismatic Christians talking earnestly over their Butlins' carry outs about 'Eschatology'. I imagine this doesn't happen in most churches across the UK on an average Sunday.
Did it help people? Well, you'll have to ask them. But the ones I talked to did find the word quite useful for labelling the full extent of Christian hope. It enabled them to see that hope is about more than the second coming and whether that's to be expected before, during or after the tribulation/millennium/rapture. Indeed it enabled most of them to realise that they could jettison the theology of the Left Behind series and still remain perfectly sound Bible believing Christians.
So, shall I be using the 'E' word?
I am tempted to because it will enable us to set the series - reasons to be hopeful - in the context of a full-orbed grasp of Christian thinking about the future and how it affects our lives in the present. What do you think?
cunning and conviction in David's life
I came back from sabbatical to a teaching programme on the life of David that was in its final stages. I've had the joy of preaching on the succession narrative, that part of the story that runs from 2 Samuel 9 to 1 Kings 2 and answers the simple question 'who will sit on Israel's throne after David'?
Of course, the question is not that simple at all. There is no rule that David's son should succeed to Israel's throne as David was only the second king and he wasn't a relative of Saul. There are a number of contenders - Saul's descendants (only Mephibosheth is in the frame and his claim is dealt with in 2 Samuel 9, though he reappears in 16 and 19) and David's already grown-up sons, Amnon and Absalom. In the end Solomon is the choice and the story explains how.
I've loved this section of OT narrative since Bible college. And preaching it over the past two Sundays has reminded me why. It's a wonderfully written, subtly contrived story of political, theological and emotional depth. Having looked at the story of Mephiboseth - maybe David's high point in the account - and Bathsheba and Uriah - undoubtedly the lowest point to which David sinks; this week I'm looking at the coup of Absalom and its fallout.
I'm using the text to explore the nature of the life of faith when lived in the real world. I will be focusing on two aspects of David - his cunning and his convictions. There is no doubt that David could teach Machiavelli a thing or two about how to get your way in political life, how to survive and certainly how to outmanoeuvre your enemies. At the same time, there is no doubt that his every action is driven by core convictions derived from his faith in God.
The text shows how David's cunning and convictions enabled him to triumph and leave his throne to Solomon. The author of 2 Samuel clearly approves of how David navigated his way through events. What is less clear is what God thinks - and therein lies the brilliance of the story and the wonder of its telling.
It is also where the bear-traps await the unwary preacher. There is a danger that we flatten the story and assume that what happened must be right - must be what God wants - and therefore a few simple lessons of the pious life can be derived from how David lived. It's not that simple or bland - thank God.
Of course, the question is not that simple at all. There is no rule that David's son should succeed to Israel's throne as David was only the second king and he wasn't a relative of Saul. There are a number of contenders - Saul's descendants (only Mephibosheth is in the frame and his claim is dealt with in 2 Samuel 9, though he reappears in 16 and 19) and David's already grown-up sons, Amnon and Absalom. In the end Solomon is the choice and the story explains how.
I've loved this section of OT narrative since Bible college. And preaching it over the past two Sundays has reminded me why. It's a wonderfully written, subtly contrived story of political, theological and emotional depth. Having looked at the story of Mephiboseth - maybe David's high point in the account - and Bathsheba and Uriah - undoubtedly the lowest point to which David sinks; this week I'm looking at the coup of Absalom and its fallout.
I'm using the text to explore the nature of the life of faith when lived in the real world. I will be focusing on two aspects of David - his cunning and his convictions. There is no doubt that David could teach Machiavelli a thing or two about how to get your way in political life, how to survive and certainly how to outmanoeuvre your enemies. At the same time, there is no doubt that his every action is driven by core convictions derived from his faith in God.
The text shows how David's cunning and convictions enabled him to triumph and leave his throne to Solomon. The author of 2 Samuel clearly approves of how David navigated his way through events. What is less clear is what God thinks - and therein lies the brilliance of the story and the wonder of its telling.
It is also where the bear-traps await the unwary preacher. There is a danger that we flatten the story and assume that what happened must be right - must be what God wants - and therefore a few simple lessons of the pious life can be derived from how David lived. It's not that simple or bland - thank God.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Spending an evening with the Dark Knight
I finally got to see Batman last night - in a half-full cinema that we could walk to.
It's quite an experience. I felt hungry at the end as if I'd done a pretty stiff workout! But I'm not entirely sure what I made of it - I think partly because you leave the cinema feeling slightly numb.
It is truly spectacular - some of the set piece scenes do really have you on the edge of your seat and out of breath - and the performances are all first rate.
There's been lots of talk about whether Heath Ledger deserves a posthumous Oscar for his portrayal of the Joker. He is certainly chilling at times, playing the Joker as a bringer of chaos with no master plan whatsoever. There is a casual cruelty about him, an unrelenting darkness; he is a character with no redeeming features and there's no attempt to explain why he is as he is - it's as if director, Christopher Nolan, is suggesting that the Joker is just evil.
Part of the numbness I felt at the end, I think, was due to a slight raggedness in the story. I wonder if Ledger's death meant that Nolan couldn't do cuts and retakes to smooth the flow as he was editing. I felt that the movie needed tightening up - though if that had ratcheted up the tension, it might have made parts of it unbearable! But there were subplots and half-hinted story lines that could have been jettisoned with no loss of narrative integrity.
At its heart the film asks serious questions about terrorism and what lengths we are prepared to go to to defeat it. The Joker is repeatedly referred to as a terrorist rather than a criminal. Indeed, he is distanced from the criminal fraternity in Gotham by the simple fact that he is equally hated and feared by them as by the good citizens.
And in the midst of that exploration, we are forced to ask ourselves what is the darkness at the heart of the dark knight? Is defence of law and order and a certain way of life a reason to commit acts that might be seen as questionable? What do our actions in seeking to defeat terrorism tell us about what kind of society we are?
All these questions face us every time we open a newspaper but maybe we need a movie as well-made as this one to actually ask them.
It's quite an experience. I felt hungry at the end as if I'd done a pretty stiff workout! But I'm not entirely sure what I made of it - I think partly because you leave the cinema feeling slightly numb.
It is truly spectacular - some of the set piece scenes do really have you on the edge of your seat and out of breath - and the performances are all first rate.
There's been lots of talk about whether Heath Ledger deserves a posthumous Oscar for his portrayal of the Joker. He is certainly chilling at times, playing the Joker as a bringer of chaos with no master plan whatsoever. There is a casual cruelty about him, an unrelenting darkness; he is a character with no redeeming features and there's no attempt to explain why he is as he is - it's as if director, Christopher Nolan, is suggesting that the Joker is just evil.
Part of the numbness I felt at the end, I think, was due to a slight raggedness in the story. I wonder if Ledger's death meant that Nolan couldn't do cuts and retakes to smooth the flow as he was editing. I felt that the movie needed tightening up - though if that had ratcheted up the tension, it might have made parts of it unbearable! But there were subplots and half-hinted story lines that could have been jettisoned with no loss of narrative integrity.
At its heart the film asks serious questions about terrorism and what lengths we are prepared to go to to defeat it. The Joker is repeatedly referred to as a terrorist rather than a criminal. Indeed, he is distanced from the criminal fraternity in Gotham by the simple fact that he is equally hated and feared by them as by the good citizens.
And in the midst of that exploration, we are forced to ask ourselves what is the darkness at the heart of the dark knight? Is defence of law and order and a certain way of life a reason to commit acts that might be seen as questionable? What do our actions in seeking to defeat terrorism tell us about what kind of society we are?
All these questions face us every time we open a newspaper but maybe we need a movie as well-made as this one to actually ask them.
Monday, August 18, 2008
The great haul of China
It's great to see our sailors, rowers, swimmers and cyclists doing so well at the Olympics - and no doubt one or two track athletes will surprise us. It's a tribute to their hard work, dedication, commitment and sacrifice - all the qualities needed for sporting excellence.
It's also a tribute to the infrastructure that has been put in place over recent years in terms of facilities and coaching. I hope our great haul in China leads to a little humility among those pundits who have written off our chances of hosting a good games in 2012.
Not only do we have athletes performing at the top of their respective games, but we also have others who are competing in Beijing but who will not hit the peak of their potential until 2012. This is an exciting prospect.
We may question the amount of money being spent - and seek assurances that there'll be a lasting legacy not just in terms of sport but also local regeneration - but hosting the games offers us a chance to excel in other areas than arms sales and war fighting (and that has to be a good thing).
I still stand by my opening ceremony idea, however, perhaps with the modification of having four people representing the four nations of the UK (suitably dressed) coming into the middle of the packed arena and simply welcoming all the athletes before saying 'let the games begin' and spending the rest of the budget on feeding and immunising children in villages across Africa and Asia.
It's also a tribute to the infrastructure that has been put in place over recent years in terms of facilities and coaching. I hope our great haul in China leads to a little humility among those pundits who have written off our chances of hosting a good games in 2012.
Not only do we have athletes performing at the top of their respective games, but we also have others who are competing in Beijing but who will not hit the peak of their potential until 2012. This is an exciting prospect.
We may question the amount of money being spent - and seek assurances that there'll be a lasting legacy not just in terms of sport but also local regeneration - but hosting the games offers us a chance to excel in other areas than arms sales and war fighting (and that has to be a good thing).
I still stand by my opening ceremony idea, however, perhaps with the modification of having four people representing the four nations of the UK (suitably dressed) coming into the middle of the packed arena and simply welcoming all the athletes before saying 'let the games begin' and spending the rest of the budget on feeding and immunising children in villages across Africa and Asia.
Meeting the demands
I came across this in my morning reading today:
'The demands made upon us are only possible to meet if matched by openness to the Spirit.'
It comes from Norman Motley - someone I'm not familiar with - and seems to get to the heart of the matter with a rare succinctness.
There are lots of demands made on us as we seek to follow Jesus, as we plan for ministry and mission, as we respond to the many needs of a busy church. And it's not beyond our wit to devise a cunning plan to get the job done.
But the demands go beyond merely getting the job done. The demands are about faithfully working for the Kingdom of God. And for that we need more than planning guile. We need the Spirit of God inspiring our thinking and energising our working. More than that, we need him calling us into the work itself, showing us where he is already doing things in people's lives and getting alongside him.
'The demands made upon us are only possible to meet if matched by openness to the Spirit.'
It comes from Norman Motley - someone I'm not familiar with - and seems to get to the heart of the matter with a rare succinctness.
There are lots of demands made on us as we seek to follow Jesus, as we plan for ministry and mission, as we respond to the many needs of a busy church. And it's not beyond our wit to devise a cunning plan to get the job done.
But the demands go beyond merely getting the job done. The demands are about faithfully working for the Kingdom of God. And for that we need more than planning guile. We need the Spirit of God inspiring our thinking and energising our working. More than that, we need him calling us into the work itself, showing us where he is already doing things in people's lives and getting alongside him.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Getting to grips with the text
I'm preaching on the story of David and Bathsheba this morning. This is one of those stories we know so well and yet it is one of the preacher's equivalents of climbing Everest.
It's very familiarity make it a challenge to preach. But more than that, it's a text with such breadth and depth that encapsulating it in a twenty minute monologue is an impossibility.
So we find ourselves reaching for generalities: what is the 'key' point of the text? What is the 'major lesson' of the story? Such questions diminish the Biblical text whenever we ask them as they seek to reduce the infinite complexity of the human and divine drama to a couple of easily-grasped maxims.
And yet... In twenty minutes we cannot hope to convey, to unravel, let alone explain the intricacies of the story. So maybe all we can do is offer signposts to help people's readings; ask them to notice things along the way through the narrative, things that might help them as they reflect on the story, its characters, their reactions, the consequences of their actions, etc.
One of the questions I'm always asking people to bear in mind is 'where do they think God is in this story?' It's never as easy to answer as some think. God is in the story of David and Bathsheba but he doesn't appear as a character until the final verse of chapter 11 and then it's not him as such but the narrator's spin on what God's attitude might be. It's only chapter 12 that reveals God's heart and mind (and then it's through Nathan and our reading of the story).
So, I'm praying that as I speak this morning, people's eyes will be opened to read the story and encounter the God of grace in its unfolding drama.
It's very familiarity make it a challenge to preach. But more than that, it's a text with such breadth and depth that encapsulating it in a twenty minute monologue is an impossibility.
So we find ourselves reaching for generalities: what is the 'key' point of the text? What is the 'major lesson' of the story? Such questions diminish the Biblical text whenever we ask them as they seek to reduce the infinite complexity of the human and divine drama to a couple of easily-grasped maxims.
And yet... In twenty minutes we cannot hope to convey, to unravel, let alone explain the intricacies of the story. So maybe all we can do is offer signposts to help people's readings; ask them to notice things along the way through the narrative, things that might help them as they reflect on the story, its characters, their reactions, the consequences of their actions, etc.
One of the questions I'm always asking people to bear in mind is 'where do they think God is in this story?' It's never as easy to answer as some think. God is in the story of David and Bathsheba but he doesn't appear as a character until the final verse of chapter 11 and then it's not him as such but the narrator's spin on what God's attitude might be. It's only chapter 12 that reveals God's heart and mind (and then it's through Nathan and our reading of the story).
So, I'm praying that as I speak this morning, people's eyes will be opened to read the story and encounter the God of grace in its unfolding drama.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
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...
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...
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Sharing the cafe church experience
We had a really good cafe church last night. Costa was heaving with people, there was a great atmosphere and we had an interesting conversation about fair trade and why it's spiritual as well as an economic issue.
But I did come away with some questions. The fact that we were heaving with only 35 or so people means there's not a lot of room for growth or making the project economically viable on the current model. And the fact that the venue was so full - not usually a problem - meant that it wasn't quite as chilled as we was would have liked.
I also wondered how we could use it to reach those not normally in church. We had one or two people come in off the street wanting a coffee, which was fine. But they didn't join in the 'event'. Rather they went downstairs or got a take-away.
One way forward would be to encourage church folk to bring a friend, even to the extent of not allowing church folk in unless they've got a friend. This would ensure that getting on for half the participants were non-church people. But it would exclude enthusiastic supporters and pray-ers for the project and that would be a great pity.
I think it's worth persevering with it because I'm convinced that it could be a way of reaching people who are interested in exploring spirituality but wouldn't darken the doors of a church. But we have to look at the model we are using with a view to giving it a more missional edge.
I'd be interested to know what people who've been to ours think and what experience others have had who are doing similar things in other places. Feel free to comment...
But I did come away with some questions. The fact that we were heaving with only 35 or so people means there's not a lot of room for growth or making the project economically viable on the current model. And the fact that the venue was so full - not usually a problem - meant that it wasn't quite as chilled as we was would have liked.
I also wondered how we could use it to reach those not normally in church. We had one or two people come in off the street wanting a coffee, which was fine. But they didn't join in the 'event'. Rather they went downstairs or got a take-away.
One way forward would be to encourage church folk to bring a friend, even to the extent of not allowing church folk in unless they've got a friend. This would ensure that getting on for half the participants were non-church people. But it would exclude enthusiastic supporters and pray-ers for the project and that would be a great pity.
I think it's worth persevering with it because I'm convinced that it could be a way of reaching people who are interested in exploring spirituality but wouldn't darken the doors of a church. But we have to look at the model we are using with a view to giving it a more missional edge.
I'd be interested to know what people who've been to ours think and what experience others have had who are doing similar things in other places. Feel free to comment...
Monday, August 11, 2008
A good first Sunday
It was good to be back in church yesterday. It was a busy day - two sermons plus the teaching slot in the later service (that seemed to go particularly well) - but an enjoyable one.
It was good to see lots of people I've not seen for three months and catch up with what's been going on in their lives. August is a slightly odd month in churches as the usual programmes are on hold and people are coming and going. And there is a nice relaxed, slightly laid-back atmosphere. So that makes it a good month for re-entry, I reckon.
One of the things that is still running is our cafe church at Costa Coffee in the Market Square. This Tuesday is the third of our three month experiment. We're focusing on fair trade and the programme looks interesting. I'm looking forward to being involved and seeing how it goes.
I hope we'll be able to continue this new way of being church into the autumn - but we need numbers to pick up. So, if you're in Bromley's Market Square at 7pm on Tuesday evening and fancy a coffee, a conversation and a chance to explore life with God.
It was good to see lots of people I've not seen for three months and catch up with what's been going on in their lives. August is a slightly odd month in churches as the usual programmes are on hold and people are coming and going. And there is a nice relaxed, slightly laid-back atmosphere. So that makes it a good month for re-entry, I reckon.
One of the things that is still running is our cafe church at Costa Coffee in the Market Square. This Tuesday is the third of our three month experiment. We're focusing on fair trade and the programme looks interesting. I'm looking forward to being involved and seeing how it goes.
I hope we'll be able to continue this new way of being church into the autumn - but we need numbers to pick up. So, if you're in Bromley's Market Square at 7pm on Tuesday evening and fancy a coffee, a conversation and a chance to explore life with God.
Friday, August 08, 2008
Watching the Olympics
The Olympics have started with what appeared to be the longest opening ceremony in history!
Whatever I say about it will sound churlish, I guess, but I do have to say that I felt a little queasy watching the opening 20 minutes of the extravaganza (it was all i could stomach - and I had work to get back to). it seemed to me that China showed us what we know already - that totalitarian regimes do spectacle!
The bill for Beijing is £20billion - twice the budget for London 2012 - so no wonder some of the venues look spectacular. The hidden cost, of course, is in the millions of displaced people, the dissidents who've been removed to other cities or prison. Some 1,000 troops are on the streets ensuring everyone smiles and is polite.
So here's my idea for the opening ceremony at our games in 2012. We invite the world, have a parade of athletes and then a single figure dressed in a bowler hat walks to the middle of the stadium and declares the 30th Olympiad open. The rest of the budget is used to feed and immunise children across the developing world. I wonder if it's a goer?! What do you think Tessa?
Whatever I say about it will sound churlish, I guess, but I do have to say that I felt a little queasy watching the opening 20 minutes of the extravaganza (it was all i could stomach - and I had work to get back to). it seemed to me that China showed us what we know already - that totalitarian regimes do spectacle!
The bill for Beijing is £20billion - twice the budget for London 2012 - so no wonder some of the venues look spectacular. The hidden cost, of course, is in the millions of displaced people, the dissidents who've been removed to other cities or prison. Some 1,000 troops are on the streets ensuring everyone smiles and is polite.
So here's my idea for the opening ceremony at our games in 2012. We invite the world, have a parade of athletes and then a single figure dressed in a bowler hat walks to the middle of the stadium and declares the 30th Olympiad open. The rest of the budget is used to feed and immunise children across the developing world. I wonder if it's a goer?! What do you think Tessa?
Surviving my first week
I've survived my first week back at work!
Having not been in the habit of preparing sermons, getting three ready was a bit of a challenge. but I think we're there.
I delivered the first yesterday - a short (though not short enough!) reflection on Jesus the light of the world from John 9 (what a wonderful story that is - full of wit and irony). The other two are for Sunday - David and Mephibosheth in the morning; Jesus, Simon the Pharisee and a woman of dubious morals in the evening.
I've also been catching up with people and getting up to speed on what's been happening while I've been away. it's been good to see people again.
One of my other projects - now I've got a lovely new guitar - has been getting a collection of songs together to record. I now have 32 (written over a period of 32 years - coincidence or what?!) dusted off, tidied up and ready to roll. A mate has all the gear needed, so in my spare moments (hopefully there'll be some) over the next couple of months, I'll see what they sound like and select a a dozen to put on a CD. I've been promising myself that I'd do this for the last three years; now it seems I have the chance.
Having not been in the habit of preparing sermons, getting three ready was a bit of a challenge. but I think we're there.
I delivered the first yesterday - a short (though not short enough!) reflection on Jesus the light of the world from John 9 (what a wonderful story that is - full of wit and irony). The other two are for Sunday - David and Mephibosheth in the morning; Jesus, Simon the Pharisee and a woman of dubious morals in the evening.
I've also been catching up with people and getting up to speed on what's been happening while I've been away. it's been good to see people again.
One of my other projects - now I've got a lovely new guitar - has been getting a collection of songs together to record. I now have 32 (written over a period of 32 years - coincidence or what?!) dusted off, tidied up and ready to roll. A mate has all the gear needed, so in my spare moments (hopefully there'll be some) over the next couple of months, I'll see what they sound like and select a a dozen to put on a CD. I've been promising myself that I'd do this for the last three years; now it seems I have the chance.
Monday, August 04, 2008
Back in the office...
Back at work!
After three wonderful months in Prague, France and the UK with nothing to do except meet people, read books, listen to music and generally chill and enjoy myself, I am back at work. And I'm still looking forward to getting back into it - despite the challenges that I know lie ahead.
We had a great last sabbatical weekend in Devon catching up with friends and catching some waves - both excellent. It was the first time this year we've been in the sea - hopefully not the last!
Now my desk is strewn is paper and thoughts and the beginnings of an autumn teaching series. We'll be looking at Reasons to be hopeful in the mornings and who on earth are we? in the evenings (the latter loosely based on 1 Peter).
I am keen to have a more flexible, less buttoned-down approach to the teaching programme so that we can be responsive to people's questions and comments (so, hopefully, lots of those will be forthcoming!) and also the leading of God's Spirit as we work our way through the material.
Above all things, the church needs to be hearing from God. How else can we hopeful people, confident of our identity in a world of pain and laughter, chaos and order?
After three wonderful months in Prague, France and the UK with nothing to do except meet people, read books, listen to music and generally chill and enjoy myself, I am back at work. And I'm still looking forward to getting back into it - despite the challenges that I know lie ahead.
We had a great last sabbatical weekend in Devon catching up with friends and catching some waves - both excellent. It was the first time this year we've been in the sea - hopefully not the last!
Now my desk is strewn is paper and thoughts and the beginnings of an autumn teaching series. We'll be looking at Reasons to be hopeful in the mornings and who on earth are we? in the evenings (the latter loosely based on 1 Peter).
I am keen to have a more flexible, less buttoned-down approach to the teaching programme so that we can be responsive to people's questions and comments (so, hopefully, lots of those will be forthcoming!) and also the leading of God's Spirit as we work our way through the material.
Above all things, the church needs to be hearing from God. How else can we hopeful people, confident of our identity in a world of pain and laughter, chaos and order?
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Waiting for the man to come
I love the Finan readings in July (from Celtic Daily Prayer). Not only do they contain lots of good things from Henry Drummond, but also the thought I shared yesterday and this one today by William Griffin:
'Those who do not believe in Jesus laugh at the prophecies he made but did not keep; but those who do believe, wait. Some, in the first few centuries of the Christian era, fled into the deserts of Egypt, there to weave mats one day, unweave them the next, waiting prayerfully for Jesus to come again. Others, realising that Jesus will come when he will, and not a moment before, set about the market the mats woven in the desert and to witness to their faith in the marketplace.'
That's about as wonderful a definition of what it means to wait on God as I've read in a long while. But it's also a terrific reflection on what the Christian community is for. Do we hide away praying that God's Kingdom would come or do we mix it in the market place with our neighbours, showing by our lives and our words that the Kingdom is both here and coming?
'Those who do not believe in Jesus laugh at the prophecies he made but did not keep; but those who do believe, wait. Some, in the first few centuries of the Christian era, fled into the deserts of Egypt, there to weave mats one day, unweave them the next, waiting prayerfully for Jesus to come again. Others, realising that Jesus will come when he will, and not a moment before, set about the market the mats woven in the desert and to witness to their faith in the marketplace.'
That's about as wonderful a definition of what it means to wait on God as I've read in a long while. But it's also a terrific reflection on what the Christian community is for. Do we hide away praying that God's Kingdom would come or do we mix it in the market place with our neighbours, showing by our lives and our words that the Kingdom is both here and coming?
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Where the worship is
I've often said that church services are where we get the resources to worship in our daily lives rather than where we actually worship; you know, Romans 12:1 in action.
This morning I cam across this wonderful quote from Colin Morris (in the Finan Readings from Celtic Daily Prayer) that says it so much better than I ever have; reflect on this (he is, of course, referring to what people do when they come to church):
'The worship of men and women spending themselves in compassionate action would have an air more of desperation than formality. They would stagger into church utterly drained of goodness, unable to face another day unless their numbed spirits were re-sensitised and their strength renewed. They would be too hoarse to sing, too stiff to kneel, and too dog-tired to take away any long exhortations from the pulpit. They would await the reading of the lesson with something akin to dread as God presented them with yet more impossible demands. Every false word in the service would stand out like a sore thumb and pretentiously ornate language would be heard no more. Instead, they would gasp out a single litany exposing the horror and pain and misery they had shared, asking God to show them Jesus in it.'
There's living!
This morning I cam across this wonderful quote from Colin Morris (in the Finan Readings from Celtic Daily Prayer) that says it so much better than I ever have; reflect on this (he is, of course, referring to what people do when they come to church):
'The worship of men and women spending themselves in compassionate action would have an air more of desperation than formality. They would stagger into church utterly drained of goodness, unable to face another day unless their numbed spirits were re-sensitised and their strength renewed. They would be too hoarse to sing, too stiff to kneel, and too dog-tired to take away any long exhortations from the pulpit. They would await the reading of the lesson with something akin to dread as God presented them with yet more impossible demands. Every false word in the service would stand out like a sore thumb and pretentiously ornate language would be heard no more. Instead, they would gasp out a single litany exposing the horror and pain and misery they had shared, asking God to show them Jesus in it.'
There's living!
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
The Plain man's pathway to heaven...
I've just finished Chris Haigh's The Plain Man's Pathways to Heaven: Kinds of Christianity in Post-Reformation England (Oxford 2007). And what a fabulous book it is.
Ok, I'm slightly biased as Chris was my tutor on my special subject at university back in the 1970s, and reading his prose is like hearing him speak - the more so in this volume as it started life as the Wiles Lectures at Queen's University, Belfast.
He sets out to explore the nature of faith in England between the 1560s and 1630s by seeing what kinds of cases were coming up before the church courts. In doing so, he paints a rich and varied portrait of the beliefs of ordinary people in the years of upheaval in religion from the accession of Elizabeth 1 to the outbreak of the English Civil war.
In many ways he makes the case - something I have believed for a long time - that the Revolution of the 1640s and 1650s was a continuation of the Reformation that had started with Henry's desire to divorce in 1529.
Along the way, Haigh uncovers marvellous anecdotes and tales of people's beliefs and disagreements over how church should be run. It's refreshing for a preacher or minister, for example, to read of the number of cases brought before the courts of 'gadding to other places to hear preachers'. It appears that even 400 years ago consumerism was alive and well in the church as people travelled some distance to hear a particular preacher or avoided their parish church in favour of another down the road because the minister was more to their liking.
I guess one of the major findings of his reading is that people disagreed over religion - sometimes pretty vehemently - but generally speaking they got on with each other. They continued to work together, share harvesting together, be neighbourly to one another. Only occasionally did religious differences spill over into hostility and then only for short periods - until the Bishops' War of 1639 showed that such differences could actually tear the world apart (and maybe indicates that tolerance was only ever skin-deep).
One thing that is absent from Chris' account - though I'm not sure how much you'd expect it to show up in the records he so carefully analysed - was any reference to separatist congregations or even to those who might be so non-conformist that they were labelled not just 'puritan' but 'baptist' or 'independent'. I wonder if there is any trace of early baptist life in the court records Chris looked at.
Anyone with an interest in Reformation history, the history of Christian churches in England, or just generally in fascinating history brilliantly told and brought to life, should read this book.
Ok, I'm slightly biased as Chris was my tutor on my special subject at university back in the 1970s, and reading his prose is like hearing him speak - the more so in this volume as it started life as the Wiles Lectures at Queen's University, Belfast.
He sets out to explore the nature of faith in England between the 1560s and 1630s by seeing what kinds of cases were coming up before the church courts. In doing so, he paints a rich and varied portrait of the beliefs of ordinary people in the years of upheaval in religion from the accession of Elizabeth 1 to the outbreak of the English Civil war.
In many ways he makes the case - something I have believed for a long time - that the Revolution of the 1640s and 1650s was a continuation of the Reformation that had started with Henry's desire to divorce in 1529.
Along the way, Haigh uncovers marvellous anecdotes and tales of people's beliefs and disagreements over how church should be run. It's refreshing for a preacher or minister, for example, to read of the number of cases brought before the courts of 'gadding to other places to hear preachers'. It appears that even 400 years ago consumerism was alive and well in the church as people travelled some distance to hear a particular preacher or avoided their parish church in favour of another down the road because the minister was more to their liking.
I guess one of the major findings of his reading is that people disagreed over religion - sometimes pretty vehemently - but generally speaking they got on with each other. They continued to work together, share harvesting together, be neighbourly to one another. Only occasionally did religious differences spill over into hostility and then only for short periods - until the Bishops' War of 1639 showed that such differences could actually tear the world apart (and maybe indicates that tolerance was only ever skin-deep).
One thing that is absent from Chris' account - though I'm not sure how much you'd expect it to show up in the records he so carefully analysed - was any reference to separatist congregations or even to those who might be so non-conformist that they were labelled not just 'puritan' but 'baptist' or 'independent'. I wonder if there is any trace of early baptist life in the court records Chris looked at.
Anyone with an interest in Reformation history, the history of Christian churches in England, or just generally in fascinating history brilliantly told and brought to life, should read this book.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Hearing and doing the Word together
A while ago I blogged on an essay I was reading by Walter Brueggemann (it's here with a couple of helpful comments attached).
In particular Tim asks about metanarratives and individualism. I'm always a bit suspicious of questions about metanarratives (partly because I'm not 100% sure I know one when I step on one!). Brueggemann is probably suspicious of metanarratives understood as overarching stories that give the tellers of those stories power over their listeners.
And it's for that reason that I suspect Brueggemann is more communitarian in his understanding of how preaching works than my previous post might have suggested. It's always the problem of commenting on one essay in a collection. But it is fair to say that the focus of the essays is on preaching which is a solo activity in almost all its incarnations - I know that Alan and Eleanor Kreider have pioneered dialogue-style preaching (and I've even done it once with a colleague) - but overwhelmingly, preaching is an individual act.
Listening has the potential to be a collective act. In most of our churches, however, it seems to be equally individualistic. People come and hear and leave and process the content of a sermon on their own.
One of the things I'd like to explore - which is, I think, part of the process of trying to make preaching more of a dialogue - is how congregations can be helped to listen to sermons together. How can we make the hearing, weighing and applying of the Word an act that we do as a community.
As a Baptist, I think I believe that hearing, understanding and doing the Word of God is the most collective thing that we can do. It's our whole reason for gathering. All theology, says James McClendon, is biography - the story of God and the story of his people. Preaching is one of the components of that biography.
As my sabbatical draws to a close and I think about teaching programmes at church through this autumn, one of my concerns is how do we make this a reality. How do we preach, teach, listen, learn and live as a community of God's people?
In particular Tim asks about metanarratives and individualism. I'm always a bit suspicious of questions about metanarratives (partly because I'm not 100% sure I know one when I step on one!). Brueggemann is probably suspicious of metanarratives understood as overarching stories that give the tellers of those stories power over their listeners.
And it's for that reason that I suspect Brueggemann is more communitarian in his understanding of how preaching works than my previous post might have suggested. It's always the problem of commenting on one essay in a collection. But it is fair to say that the focus of the essays is on preaching which is a solo activity in almost all its incarnations - I know that Alan and Eleanor Kreider have pioneered dialogue-style preaching (and I've even done it once with a colleague) - but overwhelmingly, preaching is an individual act.
Listening has the potential to be a collective act. In most of our churches, however, it seems to be equally individualistic. People come and hear and leave and process the content of a sermon on their own.
One of the things I'd like to explore - which is, I think, part of the process of trying to make preaching more of a dialogue - is how congregations can be helped to listen to sermons together. How can we make the hearing, weighing and applying of the Word an act that we do as a community.
As a Baptist, I think I believe that hearing, understanding and doing the Word of God is the most collective thing that we can do. It's our whole reason for gathering. All theology, says James McClendon, is biography - the story of God and the story of his people. Preaching is one of the components of that biography.
As my sabbatical draws to a close and I think about teaching programmes at church through this autumn, one of my concerns is how do we make this a reality. How do we preach, teach, listen, learn and live as a community of God's people?
Friday, July 25, 2008
Reasons to be hopeful..?
I'm not back at work yet - another week to go (yay!!!) But tomorrow I'm speaking at the final session of the current Street Pastors' training course in Brixton, so I've been doing some thinking not only about that but also what might be in store for us at church in the autumn.
This year's Spring Harvest tackled the subject of hope and one or two people came back from that wanting to explore the issues it raised further. At the same time I've been thinking about Christian identity as it's unpacked in 1 Peter.
So, this morning I mused on whether it would be good to do a Little reflecting as a church on Christian hope, using 1 Peter 3:15 as a springboard: '..in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect.' (TNIV)
What reasons do we have to be hopeful? In the midst of the credit crunch, rising food prices, international threats and instability, where's the hope? Clearly Peter's first readers had it and their neighbours noticed. Do we? Does anybody see it? Does anyone ask us about it? And most importantly, are we able to tell them anything useful.
It's clear that Spring Harvest opened up a way of talking about Christian hope that was unusual, unsettling but attractive to a lot of people. I think that's probably worth exploring in the autumn. But what should I be thinking of including in a such a series? Answers on a postcard...
This year's Spring Harvest tackled the subject of hope and one or two people came back from that wanting to explore the issues it raised further. At the same time I've been thinking about Christian identity as it's unpacked in 1 Peter.
So, this morning I mused on whether it would be good to do a Little reflecting as a church on Christian hope, using 1 Peter 3:15 as a springboard: '..in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect.' (TNIV)
What reasons do we have to be hopeful? In the midst of the credit crunch, rising food prices, international threats and instability, where's the hope? Clearly Peter's first readers had it and their neighbours noticed. Do we? Does anybody see it? Does anyone ask us about it? And most importantly, are we able to tell them anything useful.
It's clear that Spring Harvest opened up a way of talking about Christian hope that was unusual, unsettling but attractive to a lot of people. I think that's probably worth exploring in the autumn. But what should I be thinking of including in a such a series? Answers on a postcard...
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Seeking the welfare of the city
I've been reading Henry Drummond's The City without a Church. I do this every July because the Northumbria Community's readings for the month come from it. I love it. It never fails to move, inspire and challenge me.
Drummond is almost forgotten Victorian Scot who worked with Moody and explored the frontier between science and faith. He died in his late 40s and left a substantial body of work on science, faith and spirituality. You can check out his work here. The Northumbria Community has produced The City Without a Church as part of its How shall we then live? series of booklets. Check out the community website here for details.
The City without a Church is a meditation on verses from Revelation 21 & 22 and is a call for Christians to live their faith in the grubby realities of our city rather than hide away in our churches. It's written in a simple and direct style that continually asks us 'why not?' Here's a flavour:
'I make this, then, in all seriousness as a definite practical proposal. You wish, you say, to be a religious man. Well, be one. There is your City; begin. But what are you to believe? Believe in your City. What else? In Jesus Christ. What about Him? That He wants to make your City better; that that is what He would be doing if He lived there. What else? Believe in yourself—that you, even you, can do some of the work which He would like done, and that unless you do it, it will remain undone. How are you to begin? As Christ did. First He looked at the City; then He wept over it; then He died for it.' (booklet p11)
There is a glorious, down-to-earth optimism about his writing that sits uncomfortably in our slightly cynical, ironic times. I'd say that he's a pioneer missional thinker. He repays careful and reflective reading. So why not read it with a friend or a home group and ask how you might put it into practice in your own communities?
Drummond is almost forgotten Victorian Scot who worked with Moody and explored the frontier between science and faith. He died in his late 40s and left a substantial body of work on science, faith and spirituality. You can check out his work here. The Northumbria Community has produced The City Without a Church as part of its How shall we then live? series of booklets. Check out the community website here for details.
The City without a Church is a meditation on verses from Revelation 21 & 22 and is a call for Christians to live their faith in the grubby realities of our city rather than hide away in our churches. It's written in a simple and direct style that continually asks us 'why not?' Here's a flavour:
'I make this, then, in all seriousness as a definite practical proposal. You wish, you say, to be a religious man. Well, be one. There is your City; begin. But what are you to believe? Believe in your City. What else? In Jesus Christ. What about Him? That He wants to make your City better; that that is what He would be doing if He lived there. What else? Believe in yourself—that you, even you, can do some of the work which He would like done, and that unless you do it, it will remain undone. How are you to begin? As Christ did. First He looked at the City; then He wept over it; then He died for it.' (booklet p11)
There is a glorious, down-to-earth optimism about his writing that sits uncomfortably in our slightly cynical, ironic times. I'd say that he's a pioneer missional thinker. He repays careful and reflective reading. So why not read it with a friend or a home group and ask how you might put it into practice in your own communities?
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Result!!!!
So, I bit the bullet and bought the guitar - the lovely Simon & Patrick guitar - from the shop down the road. Not only did I save myself a couple of hundred quid, but I also supported my local economy - so I feel doubly good.
I've now done nearly everything I wanted to do with my sabbatical - and I need a rest!
Next week I'm hoping to record some songs on Clifford's set-up so I can see what they sound like.
I will also be revising my book outline for the publisher - a promising first meeting has led to a second meeting where some revisions in what I'm proposing and some fleshing out of things is required. I think it's looking good but it'll be a month before I know for sure.
I'll also be thinking about going back to work. Curiously, I am looking forward to this!
I've now done nearly everything I wanted to do with my sabbatical - and I need a rest!
Next week I'm hoping to record some songs on Clifford's set-up so I can see what they sound like.
I will also be revising my book outline for the publisher - a promising first meeting has led to a second meeting where some revisions in what I'm proposing and some fleshing out of things is required. I think it's looking good but it'll be a month before I know for sure.
I'll also be thinking about going back to work. Curiously, I am looking forward to this!
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
O how I love shopping....!
I'm trying to buy a guitar at the moment. Not a difficult thing to do, you'd have thought - given the ubiquitous nature of the rock and roll industry. And in one sense it isn't.
I want to buy a Simon & Patrick Flame Maple electro-accoustic - lovely tone, hard-wearing and excellent electronics (so everyone tells me). I duly pitched at the guitar dealer nearest to me who had half a dozen in stock. The prices were not too eye-watering and the tone was sublime, the action a little high (though the dealer said he'll sort that out for me free of charge) and the electrics - ie when it was plugged in to an amp - were indeed excellent.
So I could have bought it. But I felt I ought to shop around, so I went off to Tin Pan Alley just off London's Charing Cross Road to trawl the guitar shops and see what was on offer. Well, you'd never guess there was a recession on. Despite being the only customer in most of the shops, no one offered to sell me a guitar. When I did speak to a member of staff, I was told that either they did not stock S&P guitars but the ones they did stock were better or that I could play anything I wanted. no one offered to assess what my guitar needs were or to set instruments up for me to try out.
Not surprisingly, I left empty-handed.
So, I went back on line. I've already trawled a number of websites checking out S&P - reviews mainly (universally positive except for one guy who lived in Arizona and found his S&P fell apart in the dry heat). But this time I looked for offers, deals, even prices and was surprised at the number of sites that don't post prices but invite you to enquire by email - what's that about?!
I finally found a Belgian site with a good range of S&P guitars only to find that the one my local retailer had in stock was available at over £200 more than he was selling it for - and I'd have to entrust it to the vaguaries of a courier.
So, looks like I'll be driving down the road and buying locally after all. What do I learn from this?
I want to buy a Simon & Patrick Flame Maple electro-accoustic - lovely tone, hard-wearing and excellent electronics (so everyone tells me). I duly pitched at the guitar dealer nearest to me who had half a dozen in stock. The prices were not too eye-watering and the tone was sublime, the action a little high (though the dealer said he'll sort that out for me free of charge) and the electrics - ie when it was plugged in to an amp - were indeed excellent.
So I could have bought it. But I felt I ought to shop around, so I went off to Tin Pan Alley just off London's Charing Cross Road to trawl the guitar shops and see what was on offer. Well, you'd never guess there was a recession on. Despite being the only customer in most of the shops, no one offered to sell me a guitar. When I did speak to a member of staff, I was told that either they did not stock S&P guitars but the ones they did stock were better or that I could play anything I wanted. no one offered to assess what my guitar needs were or to set instruments up for me to try out.
Not surprisingly, I left empty-handed.
So, I went back on line. I've already trawled a number of websites checking out S&P - reviews mainly (universally positive except for one guy who lived in Arizona and found his S&P fell apart in the dry heat). But this time I looked for offers, deals, even prices and was surprised at the number of sites that don't post prices but invite you to enquire by email - what's that about?!
I finally found a Belgian site with a good range of S&P guitars only to find that the one my local retailer had in stock was available at over £200 more than he was selling it for - and I'd have to entrust it to the vaguaries of a courier.
So, looks like I'll be driving down the road and buying locally after all. What do I learn from this?
Monday, July 07, 2008
Redefining power and greatness
Thanks Bob for drawing our attention to Job 38-41. I'm not sure the contrast I was making is between God's moral greatness and the extent of God's powers; rather I think my point is that the way that God uses his power - extensive and out of this world as they are - is in love and grace.
I think Job's response in chapter 42 is awe at the 'otherness' of God, at the breadth of God's grasp of detail and the big picture and at the fact that his (Job's) story is only one of the billions God is constantly focused on. I think God's response to Job's repentance is interesting. He first tells Job's very sound friends that they haven't been speaking for him when they've been offering Job advice. Then he restores Job.
The heart of the story is that in the mystery of suffering, God is at work - though we haven't a clue where or how or why (and while we're in the midst of it, we're in the dark and often our friends aren't as helpful as they think they're being!).
But I think this is a different issue from the one I was thinking about in my previous post.
I guess I start from the place that God's power is seen supremely seen in Jesus on the cross (1 Corinthians 1:18-2:5) and that expression of power redefines the meaning of the word (hence Colossians 2:15 - disarming power through suffering so we can be forgiven and the world remade).
I'm not sure I'm expressing myself entirely clearly, so I need to think about it some more. Once again thanks, Bob, for your comment.
I think Job's response in chapter 42 is awe at the 'otherness' of God, at the breadth of God's grasp of detail and the big picture and at the fact that his (Job's) story is only one of the billions God is constantly focused on. I think God's response to Job's repentance is interesting. He first tells Job's very sound friends that they haven't been speaking for him when they've been offering Job advice. Then he restores Job.
The heart of the story is that in the mystery of suffering, God is at work - though we haven't a clue where or how or why (and while we're in the midst of it, we're in the dark and often our friends aren't as helpful as they think they're being!).
But I think this is a different issue from the one I was thinking about in my previous post.
I guess I start from the place that God's power is seen supremely seen in Jesus on the cross (1 Corinthians 1:18-2:5) and that expression of power redefines the meaning of the word (hence Colossians 2:15 - disarming power through suffering so we can be forgiven and the world remade).
I'm not sure I'm expressing myself entirely clearly, so I need to think about it some more. Once again thanks, Bob, for your comment.
Sunday, July 06, 2008
God's greatness and grace
Has anyone else noticed how often people pray along the following lines: 'we thank you that despite your greatness (outlined in terms of creativity, power, etc), you still love us'? Is anyone else uneasy about it?
This has troubled me for a while. Surely it's because of God's greatness that he loves us, it's an outworking of his greatness, a sign of his greatness; indeed surely his greatness is grace-shaped, he is only great because grace shapes everything he is and does. In short, he loves what he has made. After all, doesn't John remind us that God is love...?
My disquiet about the language of 'despite' is that it defines greatness in the way fallen humans exercise it. The great men (and women) of history are men of power, military prowess, the iron fist that creates the context for the odd velvet touch; people to whom acts of mercy are a condescension not their default position.
Mercifully this is not how God expresses his greatness. He expresses his greatness by raising the poor from the ash heap, pouring his grace into sinful people so that they might choose to follow the way of his Son. Hence Psalm 72 models human kingship on this divine way of handling power and not vice versa.
Perhaps if we got our picture of God right, we'd get our ethics as the followers of Jesus sorted.
This has troubled me for a while. Surely it's because of God's greatness that he loves us, it's an outworking of his greatness, a sign of his greatness; indeed surely his greatness is grace-shaped, he is only great because grace shapes everything he is and does. In short, he loves what he has made. After all, doesn't John remind us that God is love...?
My disquiet about the language of 'despite' is that it defines greatness in the way fallen humans exercise it. The great men (and women) of history are men of power, military prowess, the iron fist that creates the context for the odd velvet touch; people to whom acts of mercy are a condescension not their default position.
Mercifully this is not how God expresses his greatness. He expresses his greatness by raising the poor from the ash heap, pouring his grace into sinful people so that they might choose to follow the way of his Son. Hence Psalm 72 models human kingship on this divine way of handling power and not vice versa.
Perhaps if we got our picture of God right, we'd get our ethics as the followers of Jesus sorted.
Friday, July 04, 2008
Lessons in preaching with Walter
As part of my sabbatical reading, I've been tackling Walter Brueggemann's new book The Word Militant: Preaching a Decentering Word. I thought I ought to read at least one text that will help me in my day job.
In fact, I'm also reading Chris Haigh's new book The Plain Man's Pathway to Heaven, an investigation of the nature of belief in post-Reformation England, which as well as being fascinating (and beautifully written) is also offering considerable insight into the formation of disciples in our context (not sure this could possibly be Chris' intention!)
This afternoon I read Brueggemann's essay 'Preaching as Reimagination' which consists of 16 theses about where preaching currently finds itself. It's truly stimulating stuff.
In particular, I really appreciated his insistence that we need to preach the text that's given and not our theology (and how the text informs it). I was always taught at college that we need to preach what the text says (a pretty obvious lesson) rather than what we want to say. And we need to avoid at all costs makiing the text fit our systematic theology by bringing in caveats from elsewhere that flatten the meaning of a text or lesson its impact.
Brueggemann offers an even more nuanced take on this. 'the preacher, if taking the text seriously, does not sound the whole of "biblical truth" in preaching but focuses on one detailed text to see what it yields.' This is crucial, in his view, because the text constantly questions our theology, what he calls 'the long term stabilization of a larger reading.' I agree.
The essay as a whole suggests that preaching should be helping listeners to reimagine the world in the light of a particular text. Such reimagining happens as listeners are taken into the narrative world of the text being read, encounter God as a character in that story (and respond to him in one way or another) and then reflect on how encountering God as that character in our story in the context we live it out would change the way we see - and even construct - our world as followers of Jesus.
I wonder if this would work? I wonder how you do it? I'll have to see when I get back in the saddle...
In the meantime, I'm loving the Fleet Foxes eponymous first album - a sort of Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young meet Fairport Convention in post-grunge Seattle. It's quite lovely - though I haven't got a clue what any of the songs are about (I'm just marvelling at the wonderful harmonies they achieve).
In fact, I'm also reading Chris Haigh's new book The Plain Man's Pathway to Heaven, an investigation of the nature of belief in post-Reformation England, which as well as being fascinating (and beautifully written) is also offering considerable insight into the formation of disciples in our context (not sure this could possibly be Chris' intention!)
This afternoon I read Brueggemann's essay 'Preaching as Reimagination' which consists of 16 theses about where preaching currently finds itself. It's truly stimulating stuff.
In particular, I really appreciated his insistence that we need to preach the text that's given and not our theology (and how the text informs it). I was always taught at college that we need to preach what the text says (a pretty obvious lesson) rather than what we want to say. And we need to avoid at all costs makiing the text fit our systematic theology by bringing in caveats from elsewhere that flatten the meaning of a text or lesson its impact.
Brueggemann offers an even more nuanced take on this. 'the preacher, if taking the text seriously, does not sound the whole of "biblical truth" in preaching but focuses on one detailed text to see what it yields.' This is crucial, in his view, because the text constantly questions our theology, what he calls 'the long term stabilization of a larger reading.' I agree.
The essay as a whole suggests that preaching should be helping listeners to reimagine the world in the light of a particular text. Such reimagining happens as listeners are taken into the narrative world of the text being read, encounter God as a character in that story (and respond to him in one way or another) and then reflect on how encountering God as that character in our story in the context we live it out would change the way we see - and even construct - our world as followers of Jesus.
I wonder if this would work? I wonder how you do it? I'll have to see when I get back in the saddle...
In the meantime, I'm loving the Fleet Foxes eponymous first album - a sort of Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young meet Fairport Convention in post-grunge Seattle. It's quite lovely - though I haven't got a clue what any of the songs are about (I'm just marvelling at the wonderful harmonies they achieve).
Thursday, July 03, 2008
the trials of car buying
Well, we've just bought ourselves a (nearly)new car! It happened quicker than I expected but it's good to get it over and done with.
Having agonised about what type of car to go for - Focus C-max, Citroen C4 Picasso, Volkswagen golf - we decided this morning that we really wanted a more comfortable version of the car we've got - a Renault scenic.
So, off we went to the dealer, having checked websites for used car values, talked to him about what we wanted, test drove a vehicle that's only six months old and done just under 9,000 miles and was on their books at a very competitive price. And we decided to buy it! Well, it's something we only do once every six or seven years, so why not?
Apart from having everything we were looking for - a wheel at each corner, low C02 emissions, power steering, central locking, you know the kind of thing... - this one has a six CD changer located under the front passenger seat and a good beefy sound system (how sad am I to think these things matter)
We get it next week...
Now we're having a cup of tea wondering what we've done!
Having agonised about what type of car to go for - Focus C-max, Citroen C4 Picasso, Volkswagen golf - we decided this morning that we really wanted a more comfortable version of the car we've got - a Renault scenic.
So, off we went to the dealer, having checked websites for used car values, talked to him about what we wanted, test drove a vehicle that's only six months old and done just under 9,000 miles and was on their books at a very competitive price. And we decided to buy it! Well, it's something we only do once every six or seven years, so why not?
Apart from having everything we were looking for - a wheel at each corner, low C02 emissions, power steering, central locking, you know the kind of thing... - this one has a six CD changer located under the front passenger seat and a good beefy sound system (how sad am I to think these things matter)
We get it next week...
Now we're having a cup of tea wondering what we've done!
Monday, June 30, 2008
Life returning to normal
Hanging on for the dvla this morning, the phone system played me David Gray's Sail Away, not the best song in the world, but a considerable step up from a tinny electronic Greensleeves! And once through, a lovely Welsh lady was very helpful. Thanks, Swansea.
This week, our last before Linda starts her new job, will be spent sorting stuff out at home and in the garden and visiting folk. We have to buy a new car as ours is on its last legs - though it did a trouble-free 1600 miles in France (not bad for a ten year old Renault that's done 93,000 miles!) - so I'm trawling websites and dealers looking for bargains on the greenest car we can afford.
I am also getting my thoughts together ahead of a meeting next week with a publisher for what would be the biggest book I've written. More on that later.
I have another month of sabbatical left, so I'll be doing some thinking, some writing, some planning - and a lot more chilling...
This week, our last before Linda starts her new job, will be spent sorting stuff out at home and in the garden and visiting folk. We have to buy a new car as ours is on its last legs - though it did a trouble-free 1600 miles in France (not bad for a ten year old Renault that's done 93,000 miles!) - so I'm trawling websites and dealers looking for bargains on the greenest car we can afford.
I am also getting my thoughts together ahead of a meeting next week with a publisher for what would be the biggest book I've written. More on that later.
I have another month of sabbatical left, so I'll be doing some thinking, some writing, some planning - and a lot more chilling...
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Tudor London's lessons for today
While in France, I read the latest installment in C J Sansom's increasingly brilliant series of Tudor crime novels featuring the lawyer/sleuth Matthew Shardlake and his reliable assistant Jack Barak. Called Revelation, in many ways this is the best so far, not so much for the plot - which is a clever serial killer conceit - but for the creation of a compelling atmosphere of fear. Set in the days after Thomas Cronwell's fall, in the run up to Henry's last marriage to Catherine Parr, Sansom catches the ugly mood of uncertainty on London's streets.
The plot concerns a series of murders perpetrated to fulfil the seven vials prophecy in Revelation. All the victims were once gung-ho for reform and had cooled in their ardour. This allows Sansom to get under the skin of opinion in the early 1540s, a time when the first flush of reform in England was being rowed back by an increasingly conservative king and Privy Council led by London's Bishop Bonner and Winchester's Stephen Gardiner. A beleaguered Thomas Cranmer, still archbishop of Canterbury and enjoying Henry's love and support, is under attack from conservatives in and out of the court. London's streets are awash with suspicion and fear as reformers are increasingly arrested for holding views that only a few years previously were mainstream.
In the course of creating a totally believable Tudor London, Sansom throws sidelights on our own uncertain times, where different fundamentalisms - Christian, Islamic and secular - clash and create victims all round. The war on/of terror is nothing new - it was fought in Tudor London against different enemies and, then as now, pretty much the only victims were innocent folk from both sides.
It's a great and moving novel that left me wanting to read all four of them again. I can't wait for the next!
The plot concerns a series of murders perpetrated to fulfil the seven vials prophecy in Revelation. All the victims were once gung-ho for reform and had cooled in their ardour. This allows Sansom to get under the skin of opinion in the early 1540s, a time when the first flush of reform in England was being rowed back by an increasingly conservative king and Privy Council led by London's Bishop Bonner and Winchester's Stephen Gardiner. A beleaguered Thomas Cranmer, still archbishop of Canterbury and enjoying Henry's love and support, is under attack from conservatives in and out of the court. London's streets are awash with suspicion and fear as reformers are increasingly arrested for holding views that only a few years previously were mainstream.
In the course of creating a totally believable Tudor London, Sansom throws sidelights on our own uncertain times, where different fundamentalisms - Christian, Islamic and secular - clash and create victims all round. The war on/of terror is nothing new - it was fought in Tudor London against different enemies and, then as now, pretty much the only victims were innocent folk from both sides.
It's a great and moving novel that left me wanting to read all four of them again. I can't wait for the next!
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Final evening in la belle France
It's our penultimate day in France and we're in a Premiere Classe hotel room (sounds better than it is!) with free Internet, so I thought I'd bring you up to speed on our travels.
We're in Amiens, having come from Rouen this morning. We left the Charante on Monday morning after a really chilled break. The gite was great, the pool in particular was fab and the region offered interesting site-seeing opps.
I especially liked Saintes which has lots of Roman remains, including a really well-preserved late first century amphitheatre. The sun shone the second time we went there which was lovely.
I've finished Len Sweet's Gospel According to Starbucks and think it's one of the best things he's written - concise and thoroughly enjoyable. I'm also reading Mark Everett's autobiography, he of the Eels. It's really well-written and entertaining, as well as extremely poignant - he's been through a lot and come through with a really mature take on life.
Started dipping into Walter Brueggemann's latest on preaching - stimulating but hard-going for a holiday!
As far as listening is concerned, I've been loving Yeasayer, Joe Jackson's latest (Rain), Elbow's Seldom Seen Kid and The Cinematic Orchestra Live at the Albert Hall.
Back to blighty tomorrow and my sabbatical travels come to an end. It'll be time to take stock and think about what the future in Bromley holds (at least the autumn...)
We're in Amiens, having come from Rouen this morning. We left the Charante on Monday morning after a really chilled break. The gite was great, the pool in particular was fab and the region offered interesting site-seeing opps.
I especially liked Saintes which has lots of Roman remains, including a really well-preserved late first century amphitheatre. The sun shone the second time we went there which was lovely.
I've finished Len Sweet's Gospel According to Starbucks and think it's one of the best things he's written - concise and thoroughly enjoyable. I'm also reading Mark Everett's autobiography, he of the Eels. It's really well-written and entertaining, as well as extremely poignant - he's been through a lot and come through with a really mature take on life.
Started dipping into Walter Brueggemann's latest on preaching - stimulating but hard-going for a holiday!
As far as listening is concerned, I've been loving Yeasayer, Joe Jackson's latest (Rain), Elbow's Seldom Seen Kid and The Cinematic Orchestra Live at the Albert Hall.
Back to blighty tomorrow and my sabbatical travels come to an end. It'll be time to take stock and think about what the future in Bromley holds (at least the autumn...)
Monday, June 16, 2008
A rainy day in France...
Greetings from La Belle France! I wasn't expecting to have internet access here but I have for the moment. And it's raining, so I thought I'd blog a bit.
I finished John Gray's Black Mass: Apocalyptic Religion and the Death of Utopia yesterday. What a fantastic book! I've been an admirer of Gray's since hearing him at the London institute for Contemprary Christianity soon after his Straw Dogs was published. He was provocative and very interesting.
Well, Black Mass doesn't disappoint. It's a surgical strike against the secularist myth, against the notion that any kind of utopia - such as the neo-con dream of democracy for all - can be achieved. More than that, it is a startling and brilliant analysis of the roots of all such utopian thinking in the Christian story. His assertion that secularism is a product of Christian eschatology minus God is rather wonderful. And he demolishes the arguments of secularism's heroes with panache and gusto.
It should be said that he is no particular friend of religion. But he is astute enough to see that religion answers an innate and deep human need and therefore has to be accommodated in whatever society we try to create.
I found the book wonderfully stimulating and provocative. I shall blog about it further when I've had time to process it.
I'm also reading Leonard Sweet's The Gospel According to Starbucks which is a terrfiic restatement of his EPIC theory of living in relation to coffee. As well as offering a truly attractive picture of how the followers of Jesus should live, he offers all sorts of fascinating facts about coffee. What more could you ask?
I finished John Gray's Black Mass: Apocalyptic Religion and the Death of Utopia yesterday. What a fantastic book! I've been an admirer of Gray's since hearing him at the London institute for Contemprary Christianity soon after his Straw Dogs was published. He was provocative and very interesting.
Well, Black Mass doesn't disappoint. It's a surgical strike against the secularist myth, against the notion that any kind of utopia - such as the neo-con dream of democracy for all - can be achieved. More than that, it is a startling and brilliant analysis of the roots of all such utopian thinking in the Christian story. His assertion that secularism is a product of Christian eschatology minus God is rather wonderful. And he demolishes the arguments of secularism's heroes with panache and gusto.
It should be said that he is no particular friend of religion. But he is astute enough to see that religion answers an innate and deep human need and therefore has to be accommodated in whatever society we try to create.
I found the book wonderfully stimulating and provocative. I shall blog about it further when I've had time to process it.
I'm also reading Leonard Sweet's The Gospel According to Starbucks which is a terrfiic restatement of his EPIC theory of living in relation to coffee. As well as offering a truly attractive picture of how the followers of Jesus should live, he offers all sorts of fascinating facts about coffee. What more could you ask?
Thursday, June 12, 2008
The journey goes on
It's been all go since returning from Prague, so I haven't had a chance to sort pictures or reflect on the experience.
I've been reading a manuscript for a publisher which is good and sorting things out for going to France tomorrow.
I also had a chance to catch up with a few friends - always excellent.
So, I'll not be blogging for a couple of weeks. lots of updates when I return.
I've been reading a manuscript for a publisher which is good and sorting things out for going to France tomorrow.
I also had a chance to catch up with a few friends - always excellent.
So, I'll not be blogging for a couple of weeks. lots of updates when I return.
Friday, June 06, 2008
Waiting for our ride to the airport
We're all packed up and waiting for our ride to the airport. It's been fabulous in Prague and we're sorry to be going home after a month (I could have stayed for another at least!)
We had a great evening yesterday - dinner with Phil and Alex (a lovely young couple working here for another year; Alex is looking for a church in the UK from next autumn - she'll be a considerable catch!) Then on to Ungelt to hear Chicken soup a wonderful jazz-fusion band.
We'll be leaving with lots of good memories - I'll post some pix once we're home and have sorted outthe 400 or so I took(!) - and having made a bunch of good friends. I hope some of them will be our doorstep in the UK at some stage - we'll certainly be back on theirs.
So, now it's a week at home and then off to France for a fortnight to recover. Sabbaticals - they're tough and not everyone can keep up!
We had a great evening yesterday - dinner with Phil and Alex (a lovely young couple working here for another year; Alex is looking for a church in the UK from next autumn - she'll be a considerable catch!) Then on to Ungelt to hear Chicken soup a wonderful jazz-fusion band.
We'll be leaving with lots of good memories - I'll post some pix once we're home and have sorted outthe 400 or so I took(!) - and having made a bunch of good friends. I hope some of them will be our doorstep in the UK at some stage - we'll certainly be back on theirs.
So, now it's a week at home and then off to France for a fortnight to recover. Sabbaticals - they're tough and not everyone can keep up!
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Our earthy identity - and why it matters
We had a lovely communion this morning, gathered in a circle and saying a liturgy influenced by central european baptists and the Northumbria community.
It was simple and profound. The community here is a bit special. It's also unreal and unreproduceable elsewhere. But it gives hints and pointers to ways of being church elswhere that are very attractive.
One of the reasons for this is its conscious striving to be a baptist community. Here our identity as baptists is taken really seriously. I've just had a conversation with a serbian who has has a masters in Anabaptist and Baptist studies, about who we are. Again McClendon was named, Dayan pointing out that theology as biography has to be the place where we start to create baptist community. Everyone's story matters, everyone's story has something to teach everyone else about what it means to live by the one story at the heart of our gathering, the story of man from Nazareth who is the Lord of glory.
Again, I was struck as we broke bread and shared wine this morning, how vital it is that Jesus was fleshy, sweaty and earthy (no decetism here!); and how our stories with all their pain and laughter are caught up in his.
This is the kind of place that makes you look at things in fresh, appealing and suggestive ways. I'm sorry our time here is almost over...
It was simple and profound. The community here is a bit special. It's also unreal and unreproduceable elsewhere. But it gives hints and pointers to ways of being church elswhere that are very attractive.
One of the reasons for this is its conscious striving to be a baptist community. Here our identity as baptists is taken really seriously. I've just had a conversation with a serbian who has has a masters in Anabaptist and Baptist studies, about who we are. Again McClendon was named, Dayan pointing out that theology as biography has to be the place where we start to create baptist community. Everyone's story matters, everyone's story has something to teach everyone else about what it means to live by the one story at the heart of our gathering, the story of man from Nazareth who is the Lord of glory.
Again, I was struck as we broke bread and shared wine this morning, how vital it is that Jesus was fleshy, sweaty and earthy (no decetism here!); and how our stories with all their pain and laughter are caught up in his.
This is the kind of place that makes you look at things in fresh, appealing and suggestive ways. I'm sorry our time here is almost over...
Meandering in Europe's loveliest city...
It's raining this morning. Hopefully it'll brighten up after morning chapel (which includes communion).
Steve and Val are leaving today. It's been great to spend this month with them. They are a great couple and have been a real laugh to be with as well as a source of insight and wisdom on a whole range of issues.
I think we'll do a gallery today. I still haven't seen the El Greco in the Sternberg Palace. A couple of days ago we went to Vysehrad, the other castle and cathedral that overlooks the city on the opposite bank of the river from St Vitas and the royal palace. It's starker but still impressive. it's also the place where the Czech Republic's great and good are buried in a fabulously crowded grave yard.
Prague continues to be a delight. Last night we went out to eat with Steve and Val and Tima and Iulia (a super Russian couple who are seeking settlement in the UK and who'd be an asset to any church that called them). We walked in the Old Town Square and drank coffee at the art decco concert hall, having eaten at our favourite Architcture Club restaurant. Blissful...
Steve and Val are leaving today. It's been great to spend this month with them. They are a great couple and have been a real laugh to be with as well as a source of insight and wisdom on a whole range of issues.
I think we'll do a gallery today. I still haven't seen the El Greco in the Sternberg Palace. A couple of days ago we went to Vysehrad, the other castle and cathedral that overlooks the city on the opposite bank of the river from St Vitas and the royal palace. It's starker but still impressive. it's also the place where the Czech Republic's great and good are buried in a fabulously crowded grave yard.
Prague continues to be a delight. Last night we went out to eat with Steve and Val and Tima and Iulia (a super Russian couple who are seeking settlement in the UK and who'd be an asset to any church that called them). We walked in the Old Town Square and drank coffee at the art decco concert hall, having eaten at our favourite Architcture Club restaurant. Blissful...
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Offering a tangible welcome
Also this morning, we had one of the most moving infant dedications I've been to for a while.
The couple had a daughter of about four and a son who'd been born very prematurely and struggled for a while. But now at just over a year was a strapping lad and they'd come to give thanks.
As part of the service, various members of the church bought the child gifts that symbolised hopes and dreams for him - a book for his learning the story of the world and God, a toy for him to develop a sense of adventure and playfulness, anticeptic cream in thankfulness that he had come through the dark valley of ill health into a place of relative vitality, and so on
It was very moving to see the church symbolise its hopes for and welcome of this new arrival in this very tangible way. So this is another thing I'll be thinkiing of introducing back home.
The couple had a daughter of about four and a son who'd been born very prematurely and struggled for a while. But now at just over a year was a strapping lad and they'd come to give thanks.
As part of the service, various members of the church bought the child gifts that symbolised hopes and dreams for him - a book for his learning the story of the world and God, a toy for him to develop a sense of adventure and playfulness, anticeptic cream in thankfulness that he had come through the dark valley of ill health into a place of relative vitality, and so on
It was very moving to see the church symbolise its hopes for and welcome of this new arrival in this very tangible way. So this is another thing I'll be thinkiing of introducing back home.
Sharing our common life
We had a lovely agape following the morning service at Sarka Valley Community Church. I think with adaptation, the model would work back home. So we'll probably try it.
It was a church lunch that began and ended with a communion liturgy - breaking bread at the start and sharing a common cup at the end. It was really cool to share wine with people you were laughing and chatting with and dropping the words of institution into the conversation as the cup reached us.
We also sang three great songs - all influenced by Iona's John Bell in some way - this morning. Again, these are works that will make their way back home.
Here's a flavour of one of them (an excellent communion hymn):
As once you served a waiting crowd
when someone shared their bread
so still, through freely offered life,
your hungry world is fed
For, having planted seed corn deep
in every human heart,
there, quickened by affirming grace,
your kingdom's work can start
The final verse says:
Then break me with the hands of grace
that living, I may prove
a generous bread of kingdom life,
of healing, peace and love.
(words by Pat Bennett/music by John Bell)
There were lots of goodbyes to say today as many of the students who've lived here for the last year are heading home. Many tears were shed and email addresses exchanged, a sign that deep relationships form over an academic year; students were valedicted and sent back to their churches to fulfil the ministries that God has prepared them for over the past year.
We also welcomed a group from Baylor University in Texas who are here for a few days as part of a six week tour of europe.
It was a church lunch that began and ended with a communion liturgy - breaking bread at the start and sharing a common cup at the end. It was really cool to share wine with people you were laughing and chatting with and dropping the words of institution into the conversation as the cup reached us.
We also sang three great songs - all influenced by Iona's John Bell in some way - this morning. Again, these are works that will make their way back home.
Here's a flavour of one of them (an excellent communion hymn):
As once you served a waiting crowd
when someone shared their bread
so still, through freely offered life,
your hungry world is fed
For, having planted seed corn deep
in every human heart,
there, quickened by affirming grace,
your kingdom's work can start
The final verse says:
Then break me with the hands of grace
that living, I may prove
a generous bread of kingdom life,
of healing, peace and love.
(words by Pat Bennett/music by John Bell)
There were lots of goodbyes to say today as many of the students who've lived here for the last year are heading home. Many tears were shed and email addresses exchanged, a sign that deep relationships form over an academic year; students were valedicted and sent back to their churches to fulfil the ministries that God has prepared them for over the past year.
We also welcomed a group from Baylor University in Texas who are here for a few days as part of a six week tour of europe.
Catching up with life in Prague
I've been so busy chilling that I've forgotten to blog the past couple of days. So here's a catch-up.
We had the IBTS graduation ceremony on Friday - students in the certificate and masters programmes were awarded and valedicted. It was great to see young (and not so young) people from across central and eastern Europe (and the UK) get their awards. IBTS does a unique job in offering training opportunities at what seems to be a good standard at a good price.
We've had lots of music over the past couple of days as well. Undoubtedly the highlight was seeing the National Saxaphone choir of Great Britain at the fringe festival yesterday evening. They are an ensemble of 18 sax players doing things with the instrument that you wouldn't have thought possible. It was a great show. They'll be touring England soon and are well worth catching.
Then we went on to Agharta to catch some modern jazz in a wonderful club (one of Prague's best). It was a quartet of piano (a very dextrous guest player from new York), a veteran but nimble-fingered upright bass player, a soprano sax player and a drummer (again, long in the tooth but amazingly subtle and energetic). They were really good, playing their way through a set of improvisations around well-known jazz standards.
The low point musically was the Moody Chorale! We went to see them on Thursday evening with our new friends and Ian and Janice (older friends) and it was like falling into a time-warp. Tuxedo'd men and evening gown'd girls singing their way through a light classical and spiritual repetoire that had a high point and a very low one. The high point was a sublime latin anthem about Jesus as the light of the world. They also did a good version of John Rutter's The Lord Bless you. The low point was a gospel song with two soloists who really couldn't cut it as ike and Tina Turner. Ah well.
I have also been reading. I've made two interesting discoveries. The first is Andrew Das, a New testament scholar from Elmhurst College Illinois who's written a lot about Paul and the Law and Judaism. His latest book is a detailed defence of the proposition that Romans was written to an exclusively gentile audience. This is not a new idea - Stowers, Munck and others have suggested it recently - but Das is the first person to write a book-length defence of the view, taking full account of the new perspective and recent work on the social history of Pauline communities. I'm reading it with some interest.
My other discovery is James McClendon. Round here his name is uttered in hushed tones as though he were the fourth member of the Trinity. Having talked about him with Jim Purcell - visiting from Scotland for graduation - I can see why. He is a baptist, narrative systematic theologian and I've heard enough about him to bury all my prejudices against systematic theology and read his trilogy - a volume each on Ethics, Doctrine and Witness. It's interesting that he begins with ethics - how Christians live - before talking doctrine (what they believe). What excites people most about him is that he is truly communitarian (as Jim puts it) in his approach.
The weather has been wonderful - hot and sunny - except that last night we got caught in the promised thunderstorm on our way home from Agharta. Such is life...
We had the IBTS graduation ceremony on Friday - students in the certificate and masters programmes were awarded and valedicted. It was great to see young (and not so young) people from across central and eastern Europe (and the UK) get their awards. IBTS does a unique job in offering training opportunities at what seems to be a good standard at a good price.
We've had lots of music over the past couple of days as well. Undoubtedly the highlight was seeing the National Saxaphone choir of Great Britain at the fringe festival yesterday evening. They are an ensemble of 18 sax players doing things with the instrument that you wouldn't have thought possible. It was a great show. They'll be touring England soon and are well worth catching.
Then we went on to Agharta to catch some modern jazz in a wonderful club (one of Prague's best). It was a quartet of piano (a very dextrous guest player from new York), a veteran but nimble-fingered upright bass player, a soprano sax player and a drummer (again, long in the tooth but amazingly subtle and energetic). They were really good, playing their way through a set of improvisations around well-known jazz standards.
The low point musically was the Moody Chorale! We went to see them on Thursday evening with our new friends and Ian and Janice (older friends) and it was like falling into a time-warp. Tuxedo'd men and evening gown'd girls singing their way through a light classical and spiritual repetoire that had a high point and a very low one. The high point was a sublime latin anthem about Jesus as the light of the world. They also did a good version of John Rutter's The Lord Bless you. The low point was a gospel song with two soloists who really couldn't cut it as ike and Tina Turner. Ah well.
I have also been reading. I've made two interesting discoveries. The first is Andrew Das, a New testament scholar from Elmhurst College Illinois who's written a lot about Paul and the Law and Judaism. His latest book is a detailed defence of the proposition that Romans was written to an exclusively gentile audience. This is not a new idea - Stowers, Munck and others have suggested it recently - but Das is the first person to write a book-length defence of the view, taking full account of the new perspective and recent work on the social history of Pauline communities. I'm reading it with some interest.
My other discovery is James McClendon. Round here his name is uttered in hushed tones as though he were the fourth member of the Trinity. Having talked about him with Jim Purcell - visiting from Scotland for graduation - I can see why. He is a baptist, narrative systematic theologian and I've heard enough about him to bury all my prejudices against systematic theology and read his trilogy - a volume each on Ethics, Doctrine and Witness. It's interesting that he begins with ethics - how Christians live - before talking doctrine (what they believe). What excites people most about him is that he is truly communitarian (as Jim puts it) in his approach.
The weather has been wonderful - hot and sunny - except that last night we got caught in the promised thunderstorm on our way home from Agharta. Such is life...
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