Exhilarating reading

So I am continuing to read Alan Roxburgh's Missional: Joining God in the Neighbourhood with a smile on my face and sense of anticipation in my spirit. It's not that I agree with everything he says but that he provides a way of thinking about the mission God calls us to that is rich and plausible and rooted in scripture in a way that so much missional thinking isn't.

He argues - as I've already noted - that we need to base our call to mission in texts other than Matthew 28. It's not that Matthew's account of the Great commission should be ditched, just that it should be heard alongside other texts that similarly call Jesus' followers to mission. Roxburgh chooses Luke 10 (the subject of my next post on the book and, coincidentally, the subject of next Sunday morning's sermon) and seeks to place Luke's writing in a plausible historical context to answer the question why he recounts this story of the mission of the 70 at all.

Following Bosch and Green, Roxburgh dates Luke to the second Christian generation, a time when the first wave of apostolic leaders have quit the scene. He also notes that Luke isn't just interested in recounting history; he is writing to help his first audience of small, scattered gentile churches see what God is up to in their world as well as the world of Jesus and the first apostles. Luke chose to tell his story in a way that would resonate with and offer help to his first hearers. He is also right to highlight the sense of disillusion some of these churches would be feeling. Many would have expected the second coming to have happened by now, instead of which, the power of Rome is growing and the claims of Caesar for quasi-religious allegiance ever stronger. With the first generation of eye witnesses now dead and gone, the small gentile communities of Jesus followers were asking questions about what God was really up to. I certainly agree with him on Rome, I'm not sure about expectations of the second coming being so strong in the late first century - but it's a minor quibble.

Roxburgh argues that Luke attempts to address these concerns by compiling a two-volume story that aims to locate his first hearers in a new narrative understanding of God's actions in the world. Luke shows that God took a Jewish renewal movement and grew it into a vehicle for bringing his reign to the whole world. Roxburgh uses this insight - commonly held among scholars - to question our western (he's writing for a North American audience) reliance on the Euro-centric Reformation reading of our faith. This is a vital insight. It comes at a time when New Testament scholars are questioning some of the Reformation's emphases in its reading of Paul and the nature of the gospel; in particular the intense, almost exclusive, focus on justification by faith being the be-all-and-end-all of it.

So Roxburgh retells the narrative of Acts as the story of how God breaks boundaries between peoples so that everyone can share in the good news of Jesus. He points out that this involved the conversion of the earliest Christians as they came face-to-face with the Spirit of God pushing them into mission among people they thought were not included in God's plans. This otherwise excellent chapter contains an uncharacteristic clanger referring to James, the Lord's brother, being killed in Acts 12 when it is James, the brother of John, who is executed by Herod (p111). But that doesn't in any way detract from the force of Roxburgh's argument.

Drawing a parallel between the situation of Luke's first hearers and we who live in a Reformation settlement, Roxbugh articulates the question many church leaders think, even if they don't ask out loud: what's gone wrong? How come when we are faithfully proclaiming the gospel that has come down to us from our European forefathers, is the church declining like there's no tomorrow? Roxburgh's answer is that nothing's gone wrong, the Spirit is breaking out the box in which we have confined him for countless generations and that is both scary and exhilarating.

Passing another milestone

Last week I heard from Lambeth Palace that I had been awarded the Archbishop's Degree of Master of Arts (MA) by Thesis for my dissertation A Church in Every Workshop? The Economic, Physical and Social Location of the Early Pauline Communities. I will be graduating on Monday 6 June at Lambeth Palace at an event hosted by the Archbishop himself (very exciting!)

I am naturally delighted that the 50,000 words I produced was deemed worthy of the award, delighted too that I do not need to make any major revisions to the dissertation ahead of getting bound and lodged in the Lambeth Palace library! It will, however, be interesting to see what my examiners have made of the argument.

In many ways, it is the academic underpinning of the book that came out last month, The World of the Early Church (Lion Hudson), though it takes a slightly more definite line on the presence of wealthier members of Roman society (they were few and far between) and argues that the typical Pauline community - probably the overwhelming majority of the groups he planted around the empire - met in workshops or the living spaces behind or above them.

Rooting mission in the right texts

Alan Roxburgh's challenge to our missional thinking goes deep. As he introduces his reflections on Luke's gospel, he paints a picture of churches in the west in thrall to a reformation settlement that has placed Matthew 28:18-20 in the driving seat as the key missional text. These are the verses people think of when we speak of the 'great commission'; these are the verses that jump-started the western missionary expansion in the late eighteenth century, that continued to fire delegates at the Edinburgh conference in 1910.

But as Roxburgh points out - as many have done before him - this text is also associated with empire (something Matthew would find richly ironic!). The missionary movement associated with this text was one that went to the world with a package of answers framed in western thought forms, geared to answer the questions western culture had been asking and assuming that this package would suit everyone; it was the classic one-size-fits-all approach to Christian mission.

Roxburgh's discussion of all this is compelling and challenging. His remedy is not to ditch to Matthew 28 but to recognise that there are other powerful mission texts within the gospels that need to be heard. He favours letting Luke 10 shape the way we approach the task God has given the followers of Jesus for reasons we'll explore after we've reflected on Roxburgh's overall approach to the setting of Luke-Acts (that's for the next post).

For now, I want to reflect on another comment he makes about how we as church leaders think about missional texts - indeed many biblical passages. He argues that 'Just as Luke does not offer the gentile Christians forms of adjustment, so our crisis of meaning as Christians will not be addressed with one more set of tactics.' This is sentence well worth pausing at and pondering long and hard. There are so many 'tactics' on offer to help churches in the UK turn the corner and step into growth again. Some are good short-term fixes - like Alpha, cafe church, even Messy Church. But the danger of them is that they assume rearranging the furniture on the Titanic will stop us hitting the iceberg.

Rather, 'we need to allow the story of what God is doing in the world to reform us all over again in a different way. Asking questions and developing new "missional" church tactics will not address this.' (p89). I argued this case in Building a Better Body (chapter 7) but not at such depth as Roxburgh does here.

Perilous steps on the journey home

I thought I'd post my piece from our church magazine this month (as I do from time-to-time) because it has a bearing on my continuing reflections on Alan Roxburgh's book.

I was talking to some friends recently about their summer holiday plans. Well, it’s the time of year for it, isn’t it? The days getting longer and warmer, we’ve found our summer clothes at the back of the wardrobe and begun to daydream about sun, sea and sangria.

Our conversation was actually more about travelling to and from our summer break destination because, we agreed, that that was one of the best parts of the holiday. Journeys are often times of discovery, finding new places, seeing things we’ve never seen before, even meeting people in hotels and restaurants who pass on tips about what to go and look at.

Journeys are like this because we are away from the familiar surroundings of home, exposed to new experiences, invited to take a fresh look at our lives. As a church we are on a journey from what we were to what God wants to be. This is a permanent feature of Christian living. We only stop travelling when we reach our destination in God’s completed Kingdom.

Some people like travelling and others would rather stay put. For some the open road is a place of adventure and discovery; for others it’s a place of uncertainty and discomfort. The temptation for the latter group is to book into the nearest inn and say ‘this far and no further.’ The trouble with this is that we are in neither the familiar surroundings of home nor the promised comfort of our final destination.

It was for nervous, even unwilling travellers that Luke wrote the central section of his gospel. Uniquely among the gospel writers, Luke has a long section that is known as the ‘travel narrative’ that tells the story of Jesus’ journey from Galilee in the north down to Jerusalem in the south and his final confrontation with the powers-that-be.

He seems to have had two reasons for compiling his account the way he did. The first is that it gave him a good place to put all the material that no other gospel writer used – the parable of the prodigal son and the good Samaritan, the meetings at Mary and Martha’s home and with Zacchaeus, for example. The second is that he enabled him to spell out what following Jesus is all about. The travel narrative is a handbook on discipleship written for small groups of Christians scattered across the Roman empire in the second half of the first century, wondering how to live as followers of Jesus in a somewhat hostile and fast-changing world.

Luke 9:51-19:27 is about being a disciple of Jesus. The focus of these chapters is on the folk who are on the road with Jesus: how does he expect them to live as his followers, what will their life together be like, what kind of values will they embody in their relationships with neighbours and work colleagues?

Through this spring we will be making this journey with Jesus and his friends hoping to learn what it means to be a disciple in Bromley in 2011. We will be thinking about the nature of our life together and how we can make Jesus known to our friends and neighbours. It is a crucial journey for us to make because we live in a fast-changing and at times confusing world where the old certainties of home have been swept away and not replaced by anything so solid and sure.

Just before Easter, I was sitting outside a café in Victoria, warmed by the sun, watching office workers scurry in and out getting lunch to take back to their desks. He was with one of them, a young man, successful at work, happily married with a growing family. They had recently left their church and we were talking through the steps that had led up to that decision.

Neither he nor his wife loved Jesus any less; both wanted to continue serving him in the way they lived their life; both were keen to explore what being a disciple of Jesus meant with other followers. But neither of them could do church any more. He spoke of the decaying formality of it all, the superficial relationships, the tedious round of singing and sermons. He had been going to a lively, charismatic fellowship, and yet…

They had launched out on a somewhat perilous journey to discover Jesus on the road. They are looking for connection with a like-minded group of travellers who take Jesus seriously and want to live by the values of his Kingdom as they travel to their final destination. They also want to share what they’ve discovered about Jesus with people along the way.

In many ways they are living in Luke’s travel narrative, hearing the call of Jesus to follow and being prepared to leave the security of home to meet him and know him better. Are we prepared to make the same journey together?

Doing what we're put here for

Finally managed to read last month's Q magazine, featuring some great British song writers.

Guy Garvey from Elbow is fascinating on his native Bury and the inspiration for the excellent build a rocket boys album. He says that he's started thinking about songs for the next album too, showing no sign of resting on his laurels.

And PJ Harvey confirms her status as current best song writer in England with wonderfully simple and insightful reflections on her craft. Maybe it's because it's Good Friday and I've been thinking about the job that had to be done on behalf of all of us (as so wonderfully captured by Stanley Spencer in his painting Christ carrying the cross), but this comment caught my imagination:

Asked if she'll be taking six months off to do what rock stars do, she said: 'no, because there's too much work to do. And because this is my job. This is the thing that I can do best, why I'm here on planet earth. I therefore feel that I need to keep concentrating on doing as well I can. There's a lot to be said yet. A lot to do.'

Maybe we could all take a leaf out of her book.

Travelling in Yorkshire

So here we are in sunny Huddersfield after three days in a very sunny York. We're here for a friend's wedding tomorrow, so we're catching up with a load of old friends this evening over dinner.

Spring Harvest was manic - especially for the two men on the team - but worthwhile. There have been big changes at the top of the Spring Harvest tree which will probably take some time to bed down. The preaching was ok but nothing to get excited about and all a bit safe and predictable - yes, I know Spring Harvest is safe and predictable but in most years there's a surprise or two. This year felt a bit bland - despite the fact that the theme was the Bible!

York was lovely - probably helped by the sunshine and heat. We walked along the walls, checked out the shops and chilled in a selection of very acceptable tea shops and eateries. The art gallery had a show featuring David Hockney's recently painted bigger trees near Warter which is wonderful. I went to look at it every day (the gallery serves excellent coffee). The enormous work (15ft by 40ft) was painted on 50 canvases over a six week period in 2007 and then hung together to make a single large study of a group of trees. It's a rich and satisfying work.

This morning we went to the Good Friday service at the Minster. We only got to half of it due to a mix up over timings but it was a moving and effective way of remembering the passion while the shoppers and the tourists bustled round the minster much like they would have done in Jerusalem 2000 years ago when Jesus was condemned and crucified.

Another highlight of the trip was Barbican Books (part of Wesley Owen) that has a fantastic selection of second-hand theology books. I spent a most enjoyable hour in there yesterday!

Off on our travels

We're off to Spring Harvest in the morning. We'll be making our annual pilgrimage to Skegness and joining somewhat diminished pastoral team for a week. It's always a blast and hopefully we do some good in the lives of those who cross our paths.

I shall be picking up my thoughts on Alan Roxborough's book while I'm there and hopefully posting them as I write them.

After Spring Harvest, we're looking forward to a few days in York chilling, and then a friend's wedding in Huddersfield (which offers the chance to catch up with a load of people we've not seen for ages). It should be a really good few days.

An arresting case for Christian faithfulness

I caught last Friday's repeat of Desert Island Disc's which featured Martin Sheen and cam across the most intriguing definition of Christian faithfulness I've heard for a while. It was a very moving programme as Sheen spoke of his struggles with alcohol - and the pain of seeing his son, Charlie, succumb in a similar but more spectacular way - and his forty+ year marriage to a woman that he describes as the love of his life.

But the most moving section was where he spoke about re-embracing his catholic faith in the early 1980s. It is that more than anything that has given his life strength and focus. And it was here that he offered an intriguing view of christian faithfulness: how many times have you been arrested because of what your faith has led you into? Sheen has been arrested a load of times on demonstrations about a variety of causes that his faith has compelled him to embrace. And he speaks of it as a consequence of following Jesus that he is prepared to put up with.

I was moved and set thinking about what my faith has cost me...

Sinking into Rothko

On Monday, the last day of our first mini-heatwave of the year, I went to London's South Bank to stroll among the tourists and drop into Tate Modern. I was delighted to find that the Rothko room has made a welcome return. This low-lit space houses seven enormous canvases of sombre maroons and blacks by the great abstract expressionist.

This is one of my favourite spaces in London. I spent a good hour looking deeply into and through these window shapes. Now, in one sense, these paintings are just slabs of colour. Up close you can see that Rothko took great care in how he applied the paint, going over parts of the canvas with different shades of the dominant colour which, as you step back from it, gives the painting enormous depth.

The 'windows frames' seem solid and so as you look, you are invited to fall through them into whatever lies beyond. In the swirling pale maroon of the canvas illustrated, there is the suggestion of light, as if the sun is shining behind gossamer clouds. It's also possible to feel that the light is edging towards the centre of the painting where the viewer stands as it were by the open window.

In many ways, the Rothko room is a sacred space; it's a place where people, if they've the patience to sit and look intently through one of the windows, are asked questions about where they sit in the world, the universe beyond, about whether the light approaching them will illuminate their lives. Great art gently evokes big questions and has the good grace not to provide clunking great answers.

If I were running Tate Modern, there's only one thing I'd do to make the Rothko room perfect: I'd only let people in on the understanding that they would not leave for an hour. This would prevent one's meditation being interrupted by parties of people catching the greatest collection of modern art on their cell phone cameras between elevenses and lunch!

The stories we live by

Early on in part 2 of Alan Roxburgh's Missional: Joining God in the Neighbourhood which is about Luke-Acts, described as 'a narrative for shaping our time of missional formation' (p63), is this arresting statement:

Scripture is filled with amazing stories that go to the heart of the issues we're facing in our crazy, pluralist, consumer-driven cultures focused on self-actualising individuals living in instrumental relationships (in which people relate to each other out of roles or what each can get from the other. (p68)

It's not so much the idea that scripture is relevant to our context that grabbed my attention, but Roxburgh's description of that context. It's about as succinct and brilliant a snapshot of where I live as I have read in the past year! It's worth pausing to ponder.

He takes Luke as his biblical story teller because he sees Luke writing at a time when the early Christian movement was beginning to lose confidence in its story. Things hadn't turned out as these young believers thought they would and Luke writes to create a new language house that takes the context in which people live as seriously as the message they live by. So Luke is a story teller for our times too.

Roxburgh comments: 'We don't encounter this God through universal principles, formulas, visions and values but through concrete, grounded stories of God's life in the ordinary' (p72), adding that 'Luke is determined to convince them [his first hearers] that in the midst of a world of competing narratives, this is the one about Jesus and the good news of God that is worth giving their lives to because it is God's' (p73).

Our trouble is that we have turned the biblical story into a self-help guide, a handbook for making our lives work better. 'I'm aware how this orphanization of the Christian narrative has turned us ever more quickly into anxiety-laden, functional atheists needing ways to use God to make our lives work.' (p73-4) Ouch! Ponder that too...

I've always thought that Luke focuses as much on the disciples as on Jesus and mainly on their inability to let Jesus into their story in a way that would have rewritten and recast it along the lines that God intended. Being caught up in God's story and discovering where that story is being written and told in our neighbourhoods, so we can get involved, seems to me to be a hugely exciting prospect. If only we can shake off the strait jacket of our churches!

The high art of collapsing into now

It's been a busy but productive week. I've been listening to the rather fine new long player from REM. Collapse into Now is one of the best records of the year, I reckon. It's certainly kept me sane

I also think that the reviews have been somewhat churlish. They tend to say that it's a good record but it's not as good as REM in their heyday. Poor REM, it seems, have to write tunes that are not only good as Losing my Religion, Night Swimming, Everyone Hurts, etc for every record but they also have to make reviewers feel as they did when they first heard those songs 15 or more years ago. This is too heavy a load to bear for any band - even one as exceptional as REM.

On its own merits Collapse into Now is a fine record, lively tunes, fabulously jangly guitars (even Peter Buck's mandolin) and intriguing lyrics. I'd say that in Blue - an extraordinary half-slurred, half sung duet with Patti Smith - Oh My Heart and It Happened Today, it boasts songs that would not be out of place on a greatest hits compilation that features the vintage tracks mentioned above.

In short it's good, so listen without prejudice (as some other singer once said).

Tweeting with Montaigne and Qohelet

I had an interesting time at Eltham College this morning. I tweeted that I was spending a few minutes with South East London's young elite and I have to say that I was impressed by the politeness of all the pupils (only boys in my lower group group as the girls don't join until sixth form).

I was given a good hearing and very polite round of applause at the end as I swept out in the wake of the gowned teachers (slightly surreal that!) I did roughly the same as I'd done a month ago at a fee-paying girls school. I'd say it went down better with the boys than the girls!

So, here's what I said....

It was a bit of a rush this morning….but I updated my facebook status: doing assembly at Eltham College……made sure my blog was prominently promoting my new book……and tweeted where I was going…off to Eltham College. (actually I tweeted from the college reception as I was a bit early). I am just so new, up-to-date and original! Just like the lovely Stephen Fry here, tweeter extraordinaire. But actually, you know, we’re not so modern….

Meet Michel de Montaigne. Last month he celebrated his 478 birthday – He’s not looking bad for his age is he? In 1572 he began writing essays – like many of you will have to do today! But unlike the philosophers who came before him, they were all about himself. They were status updates; accounts of what he’d been doing that day, what he was thinking about and maybe some useful tips for others about how to live.

But even Montaigne was not original. Not really…2000 years before him another philosopher put down his status updates on how he was trying to make sense of life. We don’t know his name but he was known as ‘the teacher’ and his thoughts are recorded in the book of Ecclesiastes that you can find somewhere in the middle of the Hebrew Bible, what we often call the Old Testament.

He looked at the world and his life in it and drew a lot of conclusions. Like this one – there’s time to do all that we need to do. So if we run out of time, maybe we’re trying to do too much? And this one… ‘what do workers get from all their toil?’ which probably boils down to ‘is what I’m doing worthwhile?’ Hopefully, you’ll gain good grades and a better understanding of the subjects you’re studying as a result of your hard work today.

And he also said this: ‘get in touch with your creator while you’re still young’ because he came to see after all his looking and trying things out that the world made a whole lot better sense when he was in touch with God than when he wasn’t. So looking back as an older man, his advice to the young – those he was teaching – was to look for God in what you’re doing and then what you’re doing will be so much more rewarding and fulfilling

It seems updating our status, tweeting our thoughts, blogging isn’t really as new as we think it is. And, as was true for Michel de Montaigne and for the teacher who wrote Ecclesiastes, it’s so much better to put finger to keyboard when we’ve got something to say that is really worth saying. So, let’s live well today; let’s get in touch with God, be a good friend, help out those who need it and then at the end of the day, when all our chores are done, we’ll have something worth tweeting and facebooking about…

It's in the shops

Tomorrow is the official release date for The world of the Early Church but I have it on good authority that at least one eager customer has got his hands on a copy already and is looking for a smart coffee table on which to display it.

Grab one from wesley Owen in Bromley and if you really can't travel, you don't need to go to Amazon because wesley owen's website is giving 25% off all academic titles (mine included) with free shipping on orders over £5.

You know it makes sense!

The stories we tell and live by

'We have not shed what others call a Christendom imagination where the church is basically the centre of activity and conversation. Church questions are at the forefront of our thinking, so we default to questions about what the church should be doing and what the church should look like.' (p54).

Alan Roxburgh argues that he isn't church bashing; rather he is trying to free us from a picture that has held us captive for too long. Between parts 1 and 2 of Missional, there's a fascinating intermezzo called 'the Language House' that reflects on the stories we tell to make sense of our lives. Drawing on the ideas of Charles Taylor who speaks of 'social imaginaries', the 'unstructured and inarticulate understanding' that we have of our lives, Roxburgh explores what it means to live in a 'language house'.

The term comes from Mark Lau Branson, a teaching colleague of Roxburgh on a course at Fuller, and grew out of reflections his congregation had on seeking to be community. They realised that while they thought they were being shaped by the Bible's story and teaching on how to be disciples in the modern world, they were actually being shaped by other stories.

Branson says we were 'formed during late modern consumerism...shaped by such priorities as individual choice, personal affectivity, and expectations (imaginations) that emphasised the pursuit of careers that should supply meaning and resources for our lives.' In the west we are all to a large measure shaped by this story of individualism, consumerism and careerism; that is the language house in which we live.

I found this idea richly explanatory for some of the things that have long puzzled about church in the UK, not just my current church but to a large extent, every church I've been involved with. And it's this: we are able to say one thing and believe it and yet find ourselves living as though we had said and believe a different thing. Roxburgh suggests, for instance, that we talk about community and how important it is that our churches are expressions of community while at the same time living lives that are shaped by the story of individualism that we have grown up with.

So, he suggests that we need to move. He argues that there is another language house that offers a different, better understanding of who we are and what stories should shape our lives. That language house is scripture, particularly in this book, Luke-Acts, which is where part 2 of Missional takes us (more to follow).

Learning to ask the right question

Yesterday I started reading Alan Roxburgh's new book Missional: Joining God in the Neighbourhood. I've been a big fan of Roxburgh's since reading The Missionary Congregation, Leadership and Liminality - the book that more than any other has given shape to my ministry. Everything he writes is excellent. But, 60 pages in, this new one is by far the best thing he has written.

If you've not read much on missional thinking or anything by Roxburgh, start here. For one thing the writing is really clear, the story telling is punchy and well focused and the story he tells is ruthlessly honest and richly informative.

And the clearest insight that I've got so far is that I've really been asking the wrong question over the past few years. I've been asking questions about how to do church better, about how to make my congregation more missional. Roxburgh has helped me ask this question. But in this book he points out that it's the wrong question. It's not that the book or his thinking is anti-church - far from it - it's just that church is not the place to start thinking missionally.

Contemporary missional thinking grew out of the ministry and searing insights of Lesslie Newbigin and going back to the source has helped Roxbugh see that Newbigin's concern was to investigate the matrix of gospel, scripture and culture. The church only entered Newbigin's thinking once he had thoroughly and fully explored how the gospel and culture informed and interacted with one another.

Church - or congregation in Newbigin's terminology - comes as a result of mission that has itself been born of the interaction of gospel and culture. So the key questions that Roxburgh begins to ask at the start of his book are ones such as 'what is the gospel?' not in general, but specifically for the community he is walking through on a given Sunday morning, discovering that most people are not in church. He does not ask - indeed he has stopped asking - 'how do we create the kind of spaces where people who are not in church on Sunday morning might feel safe to explore the Christian faith'? Such a question seems irrelevant. These people are not in church and are never likely to be given what they seem to enjoy doing on a Sunday morning. So the question is 'what is the gospel for them?' A supplementary question might be 'how will they see and hear that gospel'? but that is a little way down the track...

As I started reading this ahead of a leaders away day on Saturday, I have been given plenty to think and pray about. Indeed, one consequence of yesterday's reading is that I went walking in my neighbourhood prayerfully watching and asking 'what is the gospel for this place at this time?' And I came home with aching feet!

Feeling the warmth of radiohead

Having been listening to it on and off for the past couple of weeks, I am really loving the new Radiohead album. Quite a few reviewers have described King of Limbs as chilly and inaccessible, but I am finding it lush and involving, full of quirky, edgy rhythms and great melodies.

I agree, though, with those who have asked why Thom Yorke sings since it is very difficult to make out what he is singing when you do, the lyrics are just fragments of ideas - a bit like T S Eliot (and I know that's probably the point) but without the structure!

But it's a really fine album.

I am looking forward to getting into the new Elbow record which at first blush seems to be more of what we expect from Elbow - finely crafted, poignant songs about something that matters.

Protesting the big society

I got an email from the Evangelical Alliance just as I was finishing preparing for Sunday evening. The email concerned the big society and how it was a great opportunity for churches - and asking for money to help make their version of the big society a reality. The sermon I'd just finished is about spurring one another in to love and good works and focuses on the fact that our faith is for the world and not just us. So, I should be putting two and two together and saying let's all leap on the big society bandwagon...

Well, no, I'm not doing that. I'm actually working on an email to send to Christians in the area asking if they'll support the youth charity I chair because local authority spending cuts have put its future in grave doubt. And that's the big society dilemma for me.

In good years, when government spending was available to forge real partnership between the statutory and voluntary sector, I'd have been pretty supportive of much of the thinking embodied by big society propaganda. I think local groups are better at shaping the services to be offered to their locality; I think voluntary sector organisations offer the flexibility and fleetness of foot that's needed to meet the real needs of people as they change over time. But that can only happen if there's statutory support in the form of funding, not to mention the flow of funds of grant making trusts. Sadly the savagery of the spending cuts means that not only is there no local authority grants but bids to grant making trusts - themselves seeing reduced assets because of the shenanigans of the bankers - outstripping supply of money.

A sensible government would have put the big society transition arrangements in place before local authorities took the ax to support of the voluntary sector. A sensible government would have established the big society bank on a sound financial footing - probably using the proceeds of a robin hood tax on the banks that would see £10bn+ a year flowing into its coffers - so it could fund the transformation of our communities. But it didn't. So we will see many good voluntary sector groups go to the wall as the funding dries up.

So the church has a dilemma. Government says join us in the big society and we want to say this is what we've always done, so of course we'll join you. And like the good Samaritan, we will bind up the wounds of those damaged by life, mugged by misfortune. The church has always done this. it will continue to do so. But in the coming months it might find itself expected to do vastly than its meagre resources will allow. Can we provide care for the vulnerable, training for NEETs, support for struggling families, food for the hungry, utilities to those priced out of the market, care for those struggling to live in the community with mental health problems...? In short, can we make good the effect of the most savage spending cuts ever envisaged in a single spending round? I doubt it.

Paul says that we should pay our taxes as a sign of love for our neighbours. This implies that government has a responsibility to the vulnerable. It implies that one of the ways in which we order the big society is through the election and action of good government, charged with gathering and distributing tax revenue fairly. So, yes, Mr Osbourne, close the VAT loophole on goods brought in from the Channel Islands (I will willingly pay the correct price for my Cd's and DVDs from Play or wherever), but also do something to claw back the £25bn lost each year to tax 'avoidance'.

So, I think we should help out where we can by bringing aid to the vulnerable and protest the fact that we have left in the mess we're in by a financial system that is still out of control (how can a bank that makes £1 in losses be paying out just shy of £1bn in bonuses to the incompetent?). I think a few occupations of the places that are still part of the problem would be a good way of churches showing that they are part of the solution. If the EA is raising money for such a campaign of protests, I'll donate to that.

Learning to break bread in the city

I had lunch at Le Pain Quotidien yesterday and it was wonderful. Bread and cheese to die for! Good company too.

The company's website (here) says this about its communal table: Friends and strangers alike come together around our communal table to break bread and linger for a while...Take a seat next to a neighbor, share the Brunette and be reminded that, even in the big city, we are a community.

Isn't that what we want church to be? Good food, a welcome for all, breaking bread together... Of course, we want to break bread and remember Jesus, so our eating and drinking together becomes a conscious reflection of his values and lifestyle. But it seems to me that we could a thing or two about our gatherings from a lunch or two at Le Pain Quotidien.

Taking the new perspective out of the classroom into the church

I've just finished preparing for tomorrow's Romans session at Spurgeon's tomorrow. We're looking at the new perspective and how we understand the term 'the righteousness of God'. The new perspective has now been around for so long that it really needs a different name. Yesterday evening I reread Krister Stendhal's essay 'The apostle Paul and the introspective conscience of the west' which first appeared in 1963. In many ways this was the spark that ignited the new perspective's fire - and it's still wonderfully fresh.

But it's Ed Sanders, whose book Paul and Palestinian Judaism, really opened a radical new way of reading Paul, dubbed 'the new perspective' by James Dunn in 1982. In fact, it wasn't so much a new way of reading Paul as a rereading of his Jewish context. If the Judaism in which Paul grew up was not the religion of works righteousness that Luther thought it was, then everything he says at the beginning of Romans needs to be reassessed. If Paul was not wracked with guilt as the young Luther was, then our understanding of justification needs to be rethought. That's basically what the new perspective is about.

It seems to me that it is a much more fruitful approach to Paul and, especially, to Romans, particularly in the way that it has been refined and fleshed out by Dunn, Tom Wright and even Francis Watson, whose Paul, Judaism and the Gentiles is the best book I've read on the New Testament this year.

But it leaves me with a huge question: if this approach is correct, how will we teach it in our churches? If it's correct, it calls into question a lot of what has been taught in evangelical and reformation tradition churches, in particular, because it shifts the focus of Paul's teaching from individual salvation to being the people of God.

As I've been tackling Romans in our church Bible studies over the past few months, I've lost count of the number of times that people have said 'this is so different from what I grew up with' and even 'am I supposed to regard all those teachers whose ministry I valued as wrong in the light of what you are saying?' I guess this applies to a lot of what is taught in theological colleges. there is always the temptation to leave the allegedly 'difficult' stuff behind and do what's always been done, say what's always been said. But are we robbing our people of the opportunity of hearing the fresh light and truth that God wants to bring forth from his word (something baptists have always thought important)? Answers on a post card, please...!

A good accompaniment to these musings has been Laura Veirs' Carbon Glacier album from 2004. Lovely stuff - like pretty much everything she's done.

Celebrating the generations

Lily (now 2) holds her new cousin, Sophia (now 2 weeks), with a little help from grandma. It's been a lovely weekend.

Comforting one another

We've been doing a series at our evening services on the 'one another' sayings in the New Testament, those places where God's people are urged to do something for one another in order to build their communal life. It's helping us to explore what shape Christian community might have.

Last Sunday we were thinking about comforting one another, reflecting on Paul's great statement in 2 Corinthians 1:3-5. One of the issues that particularly resonated with people was the need to help one another cope with the times of rapid social change through which we are living.

Some people find the dizzying pace of change profoundly unsettling. Those of us who are gleefully adopting new technology, facebooking and tweeting at every opportunity, are in danger of leaving behind those who struggle to make sense of what's going on. They feel it as a profound loss of a way of being and doing things that was familiar to them, that they felt in control of. In many ways they are grieving a lost way of life with the same intense emotions with which people grieve the loss of a loved one.

Generally when people are bereaved we know what to do. We rally round, bring a comforting presence that is accompanied by few words, we cook meals, do a bit of shopping, create the space people need to work through their grief. Why can't we do the same with people who are struggling to come to terms with the loss of old familiar ways of doing things. We know that the 1950s are not returning; rapid social change, increasingly driven by the revolution in communications technology, is here to stay.

The question for us is how will we comfort one another through these changes. Comfort is about bringing strength, the strength to face changes that unsettle and upset us, to see them accurately and speak about them honestly. Without such seeing and speaking, all we do is live in denial of the effect of change on our lives and the pain continues. Comfort is about facing the things that cause us pain and bringing the strength that comes through knowing the support of a loving community.

And behind all this is God, the one who comforts us through his grace and strengthens us to face events that unsettle us, so that we in turn can be the means of bringing comfort to those around us.

Album of the year - yes, already!

I've been listening to what will undoubtedly be the album of the year; undoubtedly because I cannot imagine it being bettered. It is Let England Shake by PJ Harvey.

I came late to Polly Jean's oeuvre but have loved Stories from the city, Stories from the Sea and the more recent White Chalk. She writes beautiful, intelligent, edgy songs. But nothing prepared us for Let England Shake.

The album is full of fabulous tunes. Some of them arrive on the gossamer wings of a mayfly, things of fragile beauty; others come with an almost industrial groove, played with a wonderfully light touch. And all of them are made more enticing, ethereal, stranger by the instrumentation and use of samples - bugles, reggae hits, etc. Polly Jean has even triumphantly made the autoharp a rock n' roll instrument.

Then there's her voice. She's noted for being a bit strident, though I've always loved its slightly west country timbre. But here, her voice seems to come from a different dimension altogether, strong and yet delicate, angelic and earthy.

The music and the voice on their own would make this my album of the year. But the songs are amazing. This is record about something that matters - and how often can you say that these days? Gone are the introspective songs about love and relationships. Instead Polly Jean tackles war - what bigger subject is there? - but even more importantly, why England, the land she adores with a passion, has been shaped and is still being shaped by war.

The album is a meditation on what has made England the country it is, what has shaped our psyche, our national character. She achieves it by musing on the first world war, especially the Gallipoli fiasco, using first hand accounts filtered through her subtle and fertile imagination.

The result is an unsettling spiritual masterpiece, an album that makes you think and feel; a suite of songs that forces the listener to ask why things are this way and what have I contributed? For instance, In the Dark Places suggests a link between our war record and young men who use guns to settle their differences on our streets. On England, she describes the land as 'a withered vine' - a potent and powerful biblical image of a land and its people - and speaks of her longing to find the springs that might renew it; and yet she sings 'undaunted, never failing love for you, England, is all, to which I cling.'

When she sings 'cruel nature has won again' on On Battleship Hill, which begins with an almost disembodied vocal singing that the scent of thyme stings you into remembering that nature has won again (a hopeful, even beautiful image - especially so due to to her voice), as the song's final line, you realise that she is talking about our nature, human nature. Even after all this time, the innocent scent of thyme brings back the horror and futility of a battle that cost so many lives.

It sounds like a heavy brew, yet it is also awash with wonderful light, even humorous moments, like the sampling of the line from Eddie Cochran's song Summertime Blues at the end of The Words that Maketh Murder: Polly and her band sing 'what if I take my problems to the united nations..?' It makes you laugh and weep in equal measure.

In short, buy it, listen to it, talk about it, reflect on it: this is what rock n' roll was always meant to be - music that might just change the world.

The light dawns over the Nile

Great news from Egypt this evening. As one of the demonstrators in Tahrir Square said 'Pharoah has let his people go'. Let's pray that in the wake of Mubarak's departure, the forces of democracy, justice and freedom are stronger than the forces of chaos and authoritarianism.

One of the things that has been striking over recent days is how president Mubarak has gone from being a key western ally in the search for middle eastern peace to being an obstacle to modernisation and the transition to democracy. I should applaud conversions, however late, but it is a bit rich for those who have kept Mubarak in power to side with his people only when those people seemed likely to get rid of him.

We bang on a lot about democracy but we really do have to be more consistent in our determination to see democracy flourish everywhere. Our selective support for unpleasant regimes does our interests in the world no good in the long term.

But maybe our relationships with the world should always be founded on something more noble than what is in our interest. I know Robin Cook's notion of an ethical foreign policy was somewhat tarnished by the government within which he served, but it seems to me that at the very least we should not expect the people of another nation to put up with a regime that we would not live under just because it's in our 'national interest' defined as militarily expedient or necessary for our economic well-being.

And the Middle East peace process ought to be aided by Arab democracy rather than hindered by it. Israel is always trumpeting its democratic credentials in a region of authoritarian governments. It should rejoice that Egyptians could soon share the same rights. 80 millions Egyptians could be voting alongside 7.5 million Israelis and 10.5 million Tunisians. Who knows, that common experience might help them to listen to and live at peace with one another in the coming years.

And this is one of the great pictures of hope to have come out of the Egyptian uprising. Last thursday as demonstrators were being attacked by pro-Mubarak factions, Christian Egyptians linked arms and protected Muslim Egyptians as they prayed.

It's pictures like this that give me hope that young Egyptians - the overwhelming majority of the population - will be able to live together in peace and harmony despite their religious and cultural differences.

It's a picture that inspires prayer - and joy.

The shrinking big society

More big society waffle this morning - especially from the minister for civil society (what kind of job is that? If ever there was a quangocrat who needs to be culled he was it!) - nailed by Dame Elisabeth Hoodless. She makes the simple link between the voluntary sector and money that few have been willing to make.

The simple fact is that as statutory funds available for the voluntary sector reduce, voluntary sector organisations will go to the wall. It's not enough for there to be good will about volunteering or for there to be a review of the red tape affecting charities (very welcome) or even that there be a campaign to recruit more volunteers (excellent).

What the big society waffle fails to comprehend is that voluntary organisations need money to function. I am chair of a relatively small youth charity that works with more than 500 young people in various settings over the course of a year, operated by 8 staff and 50+ volunteers. We need £150,000 a year to run - a big sum until you compare it with the cost of keeping a single young offender at Feltham (and many of the young people we work with are at risk of ending up there or somewhere similar).

Our funding hangs on a delicate web of cash that relies on the statutory sector being a player. It works like this. Grant making trusts will often make grants only to organisations who are endorsed by their locality through attracting local authority funding. Remove the latter and the former is often less forthcoming. At the same time, the economic circumstances - especially the collapse of investment returns over the past couple of years - means that those grant making trusts have less money. It also means that there are fewer individuals prepared to make significant donations to charities - especially those working in difficult areas (animals attract cash but young people don't).

So Dame Elisabeth is quite right when she warns "there are a lot of very worthwhile programmes - for example volunteers working in child protection as promoted by the minister for children - which are now under threat of closure."

The World of the Early Church

Well, I am holding and leafing through the first advance copy of The World of the Early Church and it looks and feels really good. It's hard to believe that all that typing a year or so ago has become this lovely artifact. That's credit to the team at Lion who've done a fabulous job putting it together. It'll be in the shops in March, so feel free to buy a copy for yourself and at least one for a friend!

It's up on the Amazon website (who have, at last, given me the correct middle initial!) to pre-order. But you really ought to support your local book shop, especially your local Christian retailer. It will be cheaper from Wesley Owen if you are a member of their scheme than it is from Amazon.

The book offers a social history of the world in which the church was born, looking at city life, where people lived, what they did for work, what they ate and how and where they found entertainment; and it looks at the social pecking order, family life, the economy and religion.

And it's got lots of lovely pictures in it so it won't look out of place on your coffee table!

Praying for Egypt

I've been watching the events in Egypt with a mixture of hope and fear. I have been praying that freedom and justice will come to this great country as a result of this uprising of ordinary people crying 'enough is enough'.

I have been struck by how the media here keeps playing up the fear of chaos and uncertainty, as if the options are dictatorship or anarchy. But surely democracy is messy; surely it's about the interplay of ideas and debates about what kind of country people want to live in.

Of course there is not a single leader who could replace Mubarak because that's not how democracy works; that's how autocratic regimes carry on. Democracy is about people deciding what ideas and policies they want enacted and then looking for people who'll best represent them. That's what we enjoy in the UK, why shouldn't the Egyptians enjoy the same?

It's also noticeable that much of the coverage is about what's in our interest, as though our interests are best served by dictators abroad, even though we enjoy democracy at home. It's the old argument, of course; but isn't time it was replaced? If we genuinely believe that democracy is good for people, then let's support democracy for all people and stop shoring up unpleasant regimes because they buy our goods or serve our interests.

It's possible that we won't be able to sell democrats as many guns as dictators buy but that's no bad thing. Likewise, our banks might not benefit from the strong men salting away billions in their retirement funds in tax havens, but that's no bad things either since it might mean that the cash would be used for the benefit of their people.

So, I'm praying that Egypt makes a peaceful transition to a genuine democracy and maybe serves as a model for Yemen and Jordan, Algeria and Libya...

Real good for free

Joni Mitchell once sang of a sax player who was playing real good for free. Well, I want to sing the praises of noisetrade, an excellent music portal that is offering really high quality free music by some really excellent singer/songwriter types.

Last week I downloaded Kelley McRae's sublime Highrises in Brooklyn and this afternoon I have acquired the really promising The Ladder by Andrew Belle. Before Christmas I downloaded a load of tracks of reworked Christmas songs, some of which is really excellent - in particular a set of songs by high street hymns.

So, it's a site really worth checking out and signing up to. Just go to Noisetrade for the Andrew Belle link which is only there until Friday. Sign up for email alerts and you'll get a load of invitations to share free music. You know it makes sense!

The end of a great adventure

I have just put the last full stop at the end of the last sentence of my MA dissertation (well, it was actually a sentence halfway down page 13 but it's the last one I intend to write!). It is done; complete; finished. Coming in at 47,625 words (a shade under the maximum), A Church in Every Worskhop? The Economic, Physical and Social Location of the Early Pauline Communities will be winging its way to the examiners tomorrow. Hopefully, they will give it the thumbs up and I will get my prize from the Archbishop of Canterbury in June.

I feel like a pearl diver who at the end of extended sojourn in deep ocean is coming to the surface. In a moment the sun will strike my skin, I will squint in its brightness and I will take in lungs-full of fresh air. And then...? I'm not sure. I will suddenly have time and brain space for other things - which is good because there are lots of other things to requiring time and brain space. But I think as the idea of completion settles in, it will feel good.

Coming up for air

Wiped out by flu last week - two-and-a-half days in bed; the rest of the time vegging on the sofa - but I was able to watch of season 1 of my Dr Who box set (cracking!).

Back to church yesterday with our first Messy Talk, a follow-up to Messy Church using the Table Talk conversational card game. And it went really well. Three families stayed on after the Messy church mayhem for coffee and conversation. Their kids were looked after by the team and we talked about work/life balance. A good time was had by all and all said they'd back next month for part two.

It was a notable first for the church because for the first time we had two 'services' running simultaneously on our premises. The friends of Messy church were very excited about this and everyone else graciously let us get on with it.

Today I finished my first semester teaching a single NT course at Spurgeon's (introduction to Paul via 1 Corinthians). It's been a great experience and I think the students enjoyed it too. Next semester, I'll be teaching Romans to a similar group which I am also looking forward to.

This week, I have a pretty clear run at getting the corrections and rewrites done on the dissertation ahead of submission at the end of the month.

Listening to LCD Sound system and Hurts - the latter a Manchester electronic band who sound like the secret love child of Tears for Fears and the Human League (crazy but it works).

The art of grabbing people's attention

This morning I'm reflecting Jesus' so-called sermon on the plain, starting with the words that appear in my previous post.Here's how things kick off...

You can imagine the crowd turning up – a right mixed bag:

poor folk and rich ones;
people in fine clothes who have breakfasted well
and people in work-wear who haven’t eaten yet today;
people able to take a morning off,
others who risk not earning what they need to eat today…

They’ve all come because they’re interested; they’re keen to know what this Jesus is all about; perhaps they even crave a spiritual experience – some might even have received one already.

Jesus’ words would have left each of them spluttering, like they do us – if we’re paying attention:

     blessed are you when your benefits are cut
     and the damp’s rising in the wall of your temporary accommodation…
     blessed are you when you can’t afford your five-a-day
     and the payday loan is due…
     blessed are you when people call you scrounger and cheat…

     woe to you if your salary is 80 times that of your workers
     and your table’s heaving with enough food
     to feed a small Malian village…
     woe to you when people say how well you’re doing…

The lucky people are not the healed and healthy, the well-healed and wealthy, but those who know they’re bankrupt and busted and only God can help them.

I imagine that by v26 he either had their attention or could see them turning and walking away – which was his intention. This is not Robbie Williams saying ‘let me entertain you…’ This is God’s Son grabbing his audience’s attention; calling us to a life of discipleship: do we stay or do we go?

For those with nothing, the choice is easier than it is for those laden with stuff; but for both there’s a sense of disbelief to overcome – does he mean it?

• Is there good news for the likes of us; those the world looks down on; those who feel their poverty and ill-health to be God’s punishment? It sounds like there is…shall we hang around to hear more?

• Is there good news for the likes of us; we who’ve worked hard and saved, got an education, bought a stake in the race and are reaping the rewards? Sounds like there isn’t… Should we hang around to hear more?

Yes: Jesus is speaking to disciples (17b, 20a), to those who are listening (27; 7:1): this is good news for everyone: a radical shake-up that changes everything and from which everyone emerges a winner… No wonder there’s singing at the back!

Weighing rewards

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

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

Jesus said:

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

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

Is faith the product of fear or aspiration for something better?

Over the Christmas lay-off, I finished Cole Moreton's Is God Still an Englishman? It's a lively read that suggests that adherence to the Christian faith in England really collapsed in the 1980s and 90s. In this he is following in the footsteps of Callum Brown.

The collapse was finally brought about by a loss of faith in the institution of the Church of England largely as a result of financial mismanagement and rows over women and gay priests. As such, as a thesis, it is neither original nor particularly accurate.

But the book is a lively and, in places, compelling account. It is particularly good when Moreton is narrating his own ebbing and flowing faith. Clearly a fully-paid up member of charismatic evangelicalism in the 1980s, he charts his disenchantment with the movement in a way that every person concerned with the future of the church in the UK should take note of. He is an example of what Alan Jamieson charted in A Churchless faith a decade ago.

There are lots of things to pick up from the book (and I might do that over coming weeks if there's time) but one thing struck me and stayed with me and I wonder whether it might account for some of the losses that the church as whole has suffered in recent years. He talks about his conversion starting 'because I was afraid. The end of the world was nigh' (p64).

He had begun this particular chapter by suggesting that the ratcheting up of Cold war rhetoric in the early 1980s, the siting of cruise missiles at Greenham Common and the re-showings of the controversial BBC film, the War Game, all led to mounting fear which in turn drew 'surprising numbers of young people...to churches of all kinds' (p63 - is this true?)

I wonder how many people are converted to Christianity because of fear - fear for the future, fear of judgement. I'm old enough to remember Hal Lindsey selling fire insurance at the end of the movie of his book Late Great Planet Earth. But even then I thought that this was a pretty silly reason to believe in something.

I had become a Christian in the early 1970s because I wanted to change the world. I was outraged by Biafra, Apartheid, the Vietnam War, poverty and hunger and I wanted a different world. I was drawn to the Christian faith through Alan Billings, curate of my local church, who offered me a Jesus who shared my desire for a new world, one that started now as well as came in the hereafter. It wasn't fear of the future but the recognition that Jesus offered a way to the kind of world I was looking for that brought me to faith.

And it's kept me in the faith. Yes, I grew up in the shadow of nuclear annihilation; I watched the War Game in the 70s and was appalled that our government along with others could be planning to inflict this scale of suffering on people. But with the waning of the Cold War and the coming of the 'unending war of terror', I still look at Jesus and see another way of living in the world and working for a future of justice, peace and equality.

I wonder if the church would capture people's imagination rather more if, instead of offering sophisticated fire insurance to the fearful, it showed people that following Jesus leads to the kind of life that most of neighbours really aspire to with the possibility of the kind of world they dream of living in. It certainly keeps me stumbling after my Lord and saviour.

A new year brimming with opportunities

Happy New Year! 2011 dawn with a heat wave - well it's above freezing for the first time in a couple of weeks - and a rush of opportunities. We had a great Christmas, catching up with family, celebrating with friends and generally chilling.

I'm looking forward to watching the complete seasons 1-4 of Dr Who and Inception, reading Michael Wood and playing the CSI board game (all found in this year's stocking).

I shall be spending the first month of the year tidying up my dissertation for submission by the end of the month and then pondering life out of the first century for a while. My Lion book - on the same topic as my research - will be hitting the shops in March. It will be interesting to see how that is received. I've done a couple of presentations using material from the book in churches and they have gone really well, suggesting an appetite for a bit of ancient history/New Testament context among ordinary church goers which is very encouraging.

Anyway here's the cover to look out for in your local Wesley Owen or Waterstones.

2011 promises to be a year of challenges on many fronts. On one front, it'll be the year when we see whether the Big Society is just hollow rhetoric or can rise to be a cushion to those dashed on the rocks of austerity. So, here's a thought from Basil of Caesarea to sustain you through the year's ups and downs: 'when someone steals a person's clothes, we call him a thief. Should we not give the same name to the one who could clothe the naked and does not? The bread in your cupboard belongs to the hungry; the coat hanging unused in your closet belongs to those who need it; the shoes rotting in your closet to the one who has no shoes. The money which you hoard up belongs to the poor.'

Finding meaning in Advent

Blogging at Hopeful Imagination this morning (here)

The BBC's nativity got off to a good start last night. Available on iPlayer for those who missed it.

Christmas is about changing the world

'What has always frightened the rich and powerful has been the appearance from among the oppressed of self-confident leaders who prove their strength by organising in a way that could alter the balance of power.' (p39)

With that Tony Benn gets to the heart of Herod's panic. As we saw so well and wittily portrayed on this evening's first episode of the BBC's promising new Christmas drama, The Nativity, Jesus was born into a oppressed majority, ruled over by a greedy and paranoid client king.

'You must always ask yourselves whether it is possible to change the world in which you live,' Benn says. 'by accepting the world as it is you legitimise it and thereby become responsible in part for its iniquities.' (p38). What is noticeable about Benn is the way he stresses personal responsibility. He is not the kind of socialist who lazily attributes everything bad that happens to the mechanised forces of global capitalism. We each play our part, he says, in accepting injustice or battling to overcome it.

Jesus similarly calls each one of us to own our part in making the world what it is and to commit ourselves to his movement in changing it according to his agenda. Advent is the season when we get ready for this; when we examine ourselves, repent, receive forgiveness and immerse ourselves in the prophets whose vision of the coming Kingdom of Justice, joy, peace and equality is fulfilled in Jesus and passed on to us.

Tomorrow I'm blogging over at Hopeful Imagination and will be reflecting on Isaiah and the manger

Journalism's loss is ours too

Today's a bad day for journalism as the deaths of two of its towering figures have been announced. Anthony Howard and Brian Hanrahan have died relatively young and both at the height of their powers.

They represented all the best qualities of the noble art of journalism at a time when there's so much mediocrity in print and TV news. Both were masters of brevity and sound judgement; both knew how to hold the powerful to account for their actions.

Along with Hugo Young, Tony Howard was one of the greatest post-war political commentators, whose encyclopedic knowledge of the men (mostly) and women who have held the great offices of state since 1945, enabled him to put today's politicians in their proper context.

I will miss his clipped tones on the Today programme bringing sanity, wit and wisdom to the morning brawl.

Hanrahan is known for his 'I counted them all out and I counted them all back' report during the Falklands War. But his reporting from Tienanmen Square, Berlin as the wall came down, Russia in the Gorbachev years, offered huge insight into these world-changing events.

Even latterly presenting the World at One as a stand-in for the regulars, he brought insight and incision to interviews that most of his peers could only dream of.

It would be good to think that there are young reporters modelling their approach to their craft on these greats.

Lessons in nail care from a master

James Taylor has long been one of my favourite singer/songwriters. He's written some classic songs and this year or late last year released an album of some of them recorded live with Carole King at the Troubadour in LA which is a lovely record.

I love his voice but I also love the way he plays guitar. He has a unique style that seems effortless in its brilliance. Well, I was overjoyed to receive a mailing from James Taylor's website this morning announcing that he is offering video guitar lessons, the first two of which are posted on line now. It will be interesting to see if I can pick some tips on playing better.

The second film shows him strengthening his nails using glass fibre tape and nail glue. Strong nails are a key to being able to finger pick consistently and well. It is the nail on the string - not the fleshy part of the finger which tends to be how I do it - that makes the string sing and resonate. It's great to see a man of his stature providing basic lessons in nail care!

You can check it all out at his website here - as well as listen to some classic music!

Advent fireworks

I am loving Tony Benn's Letters to My Grandchildren. He writes about things that matter with a disarming simplicity. And in advent it's good to be reminded of the things that really matter.

Benn says: 'Christianity provided me with a set of moral values and a series of comforting rituals.' (p34). While he has in mind hatching, matching and dispatching, it's clear from other places that those rituals include the seasons of the church, times when we reflect on aspects of our lives in relation to God.

He goes on, 'Christianity helped me answer some of the mysteries of life and death and provided me with the reassurance that there was someone who loved me despite my faults.' (p34).

As we await the birth of Jesus, it's good to reflect on the fact that God loves us despite our many faults; indeed that he sent his Son into the world to redeem us from those faults and to give us the power to overcome them and rise above them through his teaching and Spirit.

'If someone I love is in danger, I will naturally pray for them,' he says, 'in the hope and belief that it will be of some help in their trials.' (p35)

Benn has never slotted comfortably into institutional religion - he doesn't really do institutions of any kind, as the some in the Labour Party would no doubt happily tell you! But he does offer this wonderful insight into Jesus, the teacher, the one to follow, while being sceptical about those in authority in the church!

'Religious and political leaders shine a torch on the path they wish us to follow but teachers explode fireworks into the sky so that for a moment we can see the whole landscape, learn where we have come from, where we are and the paths ahead.' (p36-37)

That's a great description of what we are waiting for. As Jesus arrives, there is an explosion of fireworks, a lighting up of the landscape of our lives. We see ourselves as we are and as we could be. And we see Jesus as the one who has come to make the difference, come to lead us into God's future by showing us its landscape and the paths that we must travel together to get there.

Hope, humility and holding on to Jesus - grandfatherly advice from Tony Benn

I've been on the look out for something to read during Advent. I know, I should have been doing this two months ago and been already to go when the season started. But nothing seemed to strike the right chord with me until yesterday when I came across Tony Benn's Letters to My Grandchildren: Thoughts on the Future.

It's an unlikely choice, I know; yet it's a book full of advent themes - hope, justice, peace, a new world order where people are free and there's equality. I was also drawn to it because I wondered what kind of letters would I write to my grandchildren - one already here and another arriving in the New Year.

Benn gets off to a belting start: 'people have always dreamed of a world of peace and plenty but it was beyond man's capacity to secure it,' he says (p2), adding 'I have made many mistakes, and I have also become aware as I have got older how little I know. I am much less sure than I was in my youth that I am right about anything and for these reasons I am reluctant to give advice to you.' (p3).

Hope and humility - those are two great advent themes; recognising our need for a world better than the one we have, but realising that we don't have the resources in and of ourselves to make it happen.

He continues by suggesting that advances in technology raise fundamental moral issues that we have to face, adding that 'the teachings of Jesus are more relevant now because the stakes are higher, and the violent anti-Christian atheists who denounce those who follow Jesus completely fail to appreciate that science and technology offer no moral guidance as to what should be done with them.'

Hope, humility and holding on to the values we find in Jesus - now those are great advent themes worth hearing again.

I'm beginning to wish Tony Benn was my granddad.

the festive fifteen

It's that time of year again when I ponder what new music I've listened to this year and why - and which album should sit at the top of my Christmas tree. Unlike previous years, there's a clear, runaway winner this; and for the first time, more of this year's entries were acquired by download only than bought on CD.

The clear winner is Arcade Fire's The suburbs, an album of sublime tunes and lyrical brilliance. It's probably the album of the decade and seals Arcade Fire as the hottest band of the moment, worthy successors to Talking Heads in their ability to put a finger on what's happening and what it might add up to.

The rest of year's crop, in no particular order, are:

Tracey Thorn Love and its Opposites, a great collection of songs reflecting on growing up, even growing older, of being with same person for an adult life time and having kids who are growing up and flying the nest.

Laura Veirs July, a wonderful, lyrical, celebration of life

Laura Marling I speak because I can is clearly a good record by a hugely talented song writer. I reckon in a decade or so, she will produce a true masterpiece. When you listen to her songs against the likes of Veirs or Thorn, there's a sense of something lacking which I suspect is life experience. it's not surprising as Marling is only 20! It's a fine album none-the-less with great tunes and quirky instrumentation.

The Smoke Fairies debut album finally arrived in the autumn, after a couple of storming EPs. Through Low Light and Trees is full of heavenly harmonies, delta blues guitars and great tunes.

It's been a good year for women singers and in the late autumn the peerless Mavis Staples produced an album to get you marching for justice and worshipping Jesus. You are Not Alone is a stunning mixture of old gospel and new protest songs which doesn't put a foot wrong.

Cherry Ghost followed up 2007's Thirst for Romance with darker fare. Beneath this Burning Shoreline is full of chilly brilliance; great tunes and opaque lyrics that is technically wonderful but hasn't grabbed the emotions like the debut did. Maybe it will. It's definitely worth repeated listens, however.

Gorillaz Plastic Beach, the third outing from Damon Albarn's cartoon group is full of quirky, wonderfully realised pop. I'd love to see it live.

Delphic's Acolyte flowed out of Manchester on a wave of good will. Feeling like Soul Savers lite, it bounces along very tunefully. They sound like a youthful New Order.

This year's great find is undoubtedly the National. Their album High Violet is a fabulous concoction, though having snapped that up on its release, I then got Boxer having heard them on Glastonbury TV. Their music is dense and multi-layered, often in several time signatures simultaneously with Matt Berninger's rich baritone vocal musing on life and loss (mainly loss). I think Boxer has the slight edge over the new one but both are truly gorgeous.

Two bands that I discovered on line this year are Gungor whose Beautiful Things is the best worship music I have heard for years; and Evils that Never Came, a band that I know next to nothing about except that they have followed up their debut, 2004's June, with this year's Northerly Winds. They play what can best be described as indie power pop, waves of organ and choppy guitars over driving rhythms. And both albums are available free form their website.

And finally, Mr E (Eels) came storming back this year with not one but two wonderfully tuneful and thought-provoking albums. The spring brought us End Times, fourteen heartbreaking and witty songs about the end of a relationship and the autumn delivered Tomorrow Morning, fourteen life-affirming songs about the start of a new relationship and fresh starts generally. I'm not sure which album I prefer, though the latter has two of the best songs E has ever written, Oh So Lovely and That's Not Her Way

And at number 15 is a reissue which contains a first official release. It's David Bowie's Station to Station, in my opinion the grand dame's best ever record, released at the start of a flurry of creativity that included Low, Heroes, Lodger and Scary Monsters. But Station to Station with its stumbling after faith and geometric rhythms sees him at the peak of his form. This analogue mix - so much better than the remastered version that came out a few years ago - is packaged along with his storming 1976 gig at The Nassau Coliseum in New York. This has been available as a bootleg for years but this is its first kosher release and very welcome it is too: Bowie is fronting the best touring band he ever put together. They play tight and loud and his vocal performance is peerless. One of the truly great gigs of all time.

So, there you are, fifteen Christmas present ideas for you to give or ask for, each one a gem.

Faith in the City and losing my religion....

I'm reading a fascinating account of faith in England at the moment. Called Is God Still an Englishman: How we lost our faith (but found new soul), it's author Cole Moreton, tells the story of the last twenty to thirty years of English church life, trying to account to the collapse in attendance and emergence of a new English identity (Thanks to Glen Marshall for the tip about this book sometime ago).

Moreton writes as a player in these events, not just an observer. A self-confessed teenage fundamentalist, he marched for Jesus in the 1980s, working for a US-based youth organisation that sends young missionaries across the world to share their faith. He was evangelical, charismatic, committed, passionate. Now he is a sceptic.

Part of his book is an attempt to account to himself - and anyone else who's interested - what happened and why, and whether it matters. There are profoundly moving bits of this story and much to think about.

Last night I was reading his account of the publication of Faith in the City. I remember as a young journalist, buying my copy of the report from the book shop in Liberty's on Regent Street on my way to work. I remember talking about it with my editor, partly because we were wondering if there was a story in it for us (I was business editor on Marketing Week at the time, so it seemed unlikely) and partly because he was intrigued with the idea that the church still had something to say about the world we all lived in.

Last night this quote from the report stood out: 'it is the poor who have borne the brunt of the recession, yet it is the poor who are seen by some as "social security scroungers" or a burden on the country preventing economic recovery.' Plus ca change, hey?!

Faith in the City helped to cement my call to ministry - a year after its publication, I was beginning study at London Bible College, en route to ministry in Peckham, a community savaged by the 1980s recession and still suffering its effects when I arrived there in 1989.

Later, in the mid-1990s, I had the huge privilege and joy of working with David Sheppard, the Bishop of Liverpool, one of Faith in the City's authors, on the Churches' Enquiry into Unemployment and the Future of Work (I was representing the BUGB on the steering group of that investigation).

Faith in the City helped to shape my understanding of the relationship between the Christian faith and the world in which we live. it wasn't a perfect piece of work by any means. But it was a challenge to the followers of Jesus to take seriously their call to be a transforming presence in their communities.

For Moreton, it was one more fault line indicating that the church was losing its place as the moral conscience of our country. Its publication co-incided with Live Aid, a clear demonstration that you didn't have to faith to change the world. It was evidence that England's God was losing his grip on the English - in particular on him.

Football isn't coming home

So we're all gutted that England didn't succeed in its bid to host the world cup. Well, while I am gutted for football fans, I have to say that I didn't have a strong view either way about the merits of the bid - though it does raise an eyebrow or three that a country with a world class football infrastructure didn't get a chosen, while a country with a lot of sand and not much else was selected to host in 2022.

This morning it has emerged that FIFA shied away from England because of the media. If that is the reason that two only delegates voted for our bid, then it says everything we need to know about FIFA and nothing about the our ability to stage a world class football event. Here we have a hugely secretive, unaccountable body that is responsible for spending billions of dollars on sport choosing to stage its competitions in places where the media will not ask any awkward questions.

If we did lose the bid because of investigations by the Sunday Times and BBC, then let's raise a glass to a free media that is not afraid to lift the lid on murky goings on. It has to be better to lose than to win when there is a strong possibility that we would have won for reasons other than the quality of our bid. Media investigations of the IOC led to that body reforming itself and allowing the light in. FIFA needs to do the same and maybe we shouldn't be bidding to host anything it organises until it is so reformed.

Fire amid the winter snow

The big freeze did not keep us away from the O2 last night where we were treated to a magisterial set by the peerless Arcade Fire. Not only have they produced the best album of the year by far - the Suburbs - but they are a live act of such phenomenal energy and creativity.

There were some empty around us at the sold-out gig, suggesting the weather had defeated some fans, but there was still a great atmosphere. We were sitting up in the gods to the left of arena as you look from the stage and yet there was still a buzz as the band exploded into Ready to Start - Win having invited everyone (even those of us in seats) to get up and dance.

Dressed in the most amazingly sparkling gold dress, Regine stole the show, moving from drums to keys to accordion to hurdy-gurdy, dancing and fizzing with energy. Although Win sings the songs, she drives the band along.

There was an incredible moment as the band finished their set before coming back for an encore. As they were beginning to leave the stage, the audience all-but stopped clapping and sang back the chant chorus of the track the band had just played. They stopped, listened and started clapping back before leaving the stage. it was a moment of genuine connection you don't usually get at such a large gig.

They duly came back and did a storming encore and we all left singing.