making our mission and ministry Jesus-shaped

anonymous-blur-boy-572463… or, learning, through reading the Bible, how to serve others as Jesus did.

Since handing in my notice last week (I am about to move to pastures new), I have been reflecting, not only on what has been achieved through my ministry, but why and how.  To do so I have returned to a Bible passage I used for a piece of Ministerial Theological Reflection several years ago. It is the story of an encounter between Jesus and a man called Legion, and can be found at Mark 5.1-20. Below is a summary of four main features  of Jesus-shaped mission and ministry I have drawn from the passage:

Stepping out into the unfamiliar

  • Jesus and his disciples have crossed Lake Galilee to  “the country of the Gerasenes”. Not only is this unfamiliar geographical territory, it is Gentile, so the religious and cultural background of the people is very different to that of the Jesus and his disciples, who are Jewish.
  • Location and cultural identity is important. If we are to be the ‘Body of Christ’ in the world, it is not just for those to whom we comfortably relate to in our familiar day to day lives.  Venturing into the unfamiliar, among those who cultural identity and way of thinking are different to ours, is a necessary part of Christian witness.

Seeing Christ in everyone, and expecting to learn from our encounters with them

  • Legion, whom Jesus encounters when he first arrives, has significant mental health issues, such that he has been forced to live in the graveyard outside the village for the safety of himself and others.  There is not a less likely candidate for the accolade of ‘first person to identify the true identity of Jesus of Nazareth.’ Although there is no reason why he should know who Jesus is, Legion approaches and bows down before him, addressing him both by name and title: “Jesus, Son of the most High God.”
  • Sometimes we need to be challenged to see the world from  a different spiritual perspective. To be open to learning from, and being surprised by, such encounters are evidence of the Holy Spirit at work, and can be symbiotic – a process resulting in positive change on both sides.

Facilitating transformation with a commitment to the long term

  • As Jesus sets about healing Legion’s afflictions, Legion suddenly becomes afraid. He is unsure of his future identity without the accursed mental afflictions which have tortured him for so long.  And yet, when his fellow villagers arrive at the scene, they find him “clothed and in his right mind.”  Jesus entrusts him into the care of those who know him best and can support him longterm.
  • This is a process I have seen many times in my chaplaincy ministry. Change can be a slow business. Presented with the possibility of change, people who are so used to things the way things they are, face an unknown reality stretching into the future. It can be terrifying. Genuine transformative change is a lengthy process, and requires more than a single quick-fix solution. Ongoing support needs to be facilitated, not always under the auspices of the church community.

Trusting that God works beyond the bounds of church congregations

  • The villagers ask Jesus and his disciples to leave. We are not told whether it is because they are afraid of his healing power or annoyed because he has chased a perfectly good heard of pigs to their death in the lake.  One thing we do know is that, when Legion asks Jesus to take him with him, Jesus says, “No,” asking him instead to go and tell the people in his own village what Jesus has done.
  • Our ministry in the world doesn’t always result in new church members.  We cannot see into the future of those we serve, nor can we guarantee that those who cross our paths will continue along them with us.  All we can do is bless them as they go, asking that they tell their story of transformation as they do so.

What I call ‘Jesus-shaped mission and ministry’ is also known as ‘incarnational theology’. To read more about the scriptural background for my incarnational theology click here.

 

The reality of growing up English

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or, reflections on how we construct our understanding of the world (and our churches)

The Secret Scripture, a novel by Sebastian Barry (made into a 2015 film), tells the story of Roseanne McNulty, an old woman who has been in an Irish psychiatric institution for more than sixty years.

Through her diary entries, existent scraps of hospital records, reports from the parish priest and conversations between Roseanne and her psychiatrist, the reader is invited to piece together the story of Roseanne’s life. On several occasions Roseanne and the parish priest give very different accounts of the same event.

One might assume someone is lying; but who? The protagonist – an old woman who has been labelled mentally ill – or a respected man of God? In reality both parties are telling the truth as they remember it. It is simply that their memories – and perspectives – are so different.

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Everyone has their own story and lens through which they view the world. Our personal narrative is constructed from myriad events and experiences, things we have been taught and assumptions we have made; and it is no different when it comes to our sacred beliefs. The way we worship, pray, interpret the Bible and understand our spirituality are all flavoured by who we are, where we come from and the life we’ve lived.

I am a product of a culture still affected by Colonial Imperialism. Although we no longer promulgate the values reflected in the song Rule Britannia, there does still seem to be a subliminal assumption in the English psyche that our way is the ‘right’ way, even if that is not actually the same ‘way’ as our (English) neighbours.

Whether it is an aspect of our particular psyche, or simply human nature, I would like to suggest that this assumption, manifested most obviously in our political system, is just as prevalent in our churches, particularly in attitudes towards other church traditions. Throughout history these attitudes have caused division, even schism. Today we are left with a legacy of dualisms which might seem insurmountable: liberal/evangelical, Catholic/Protestant, Biblical fundamentalism/relativism, ‘high up the candle’/’so low down the candle I’ve fallen off’ (to do with worship traditions). The last one might sound ridiculous to someone not versed in Anglican phraseology – but I have heard it used often.

In whichever unnamed age we currently live (post-postmodernism?) such dualisms seem both dated and increasingly irrelevant. It is no longer necessary to adhere to all the views of one side or the other. We can accept that we construct our own narrative,  and as we do so we can affirm those whose way of worshipping, praying, interpreting the Bible and understanding spirituality don’t relate to our own.

The readers of The Secret Scripture never will find out the whole truth about what happened to Roseanne McNulty, because she is a fictional character. But people in churches of very different traditions (and none) are not. Perhaps there is a need to listen a bit harder to different narratives, trying to understand where they have come from. By doing this, those holding what might appear to be opposing views might find enough common ground to begin to appreciate difference rather than fearing it, and actually live out Paul’s words to the earliest Christians in Rome:

If God is for us, who is against us? He who did not withhold his own Son, but gave him up for all of us, will he not with him also give us everything else? Who will bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn?…
I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

An example of Living creatively with difference can be found in a previous blog.

The trouble with Baptism: Part One

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Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

…or, the dilemma of how to welcome non-practising Christians into church to have their Baby ‘Christened’.

In the year or so after giving birth to my daughter, it felt as though I had cornered the ‘Naming Ceremony’ market in my local area.  I got to know quite a few of the parents of babies born around the same time and, when they discovered my profession, asked if I was ‘licensed to do Christenings.’

The answer is that, as an ordained Minister of Word and Sacrament in the United Reformed Church, I am.  My call by God to preside at both adult and infant Baptisms (the ceremony at the heart of a child’s Christening service) has been recognised, and I have been formally trained.  At my previous church I baptised many babies, with the majority of the parents choosing to maintain or develop their relationship further with the congregation afterwards.

Not all did though, and there was a prevailing attitude that it was the fault of the parents – that they had somehow ‘used’ the church to get their baby ‘done’ under false pretences.

As a new parent myself, and as a minister in a role far away from the institutional norms of the church, I have come to the conclusion that this is not at all the case.  Generally speaking, parents love and want the best for their baby.  By having them ‘Christened’ they see the opportunity to mark an important rite of passage, celebrate the birth with family and friends, and do all they can to ensure their child is protected and cared for in the event that anything should happen to them.

Not all churches have the same tradition when it comes to the Sacraments (sacred ceremonies that mark God’s activity in human lives), but generally speaking, Baptism marks the candidate’s initiation into the Church. If they are adults they declare their faith and make promises to obey God and play their part in the life of the church.  For babies, unable to speak for themselves, the parents make the promises on their behalf, nominating Godparents who will assist them in the task.

I would like to suggest that the gap between the church’s formal understanding of the sacrament of Baptism, and the prevailing cultural understanding of ‘Christening’, is absolutely massive.  Parents who are not practising Christians, but have a sense that bringing their child for God’s blessing and protection, are not at fault.  They simply want to celebrate the new life they are miraculously holding in their arms, and receive God’s blessing on themselves and their child.

I do not blame church congregations for feeling used when their normally quiet Sunday morning services are invaded by a family they have barely even met before, hoards of noisy children, and inappropriately (in their eyes) dressed adults.  But I also do not hold it against those who are delighted to be in church, wearing their best new outfit, and anticipating a moving ceremony followed by a great big party.  Why shouldn’t they go to church? And why shouldn’t they be able to celebrate before God? Aren’t they God’s children just as much as those who have been attending week in, week out, for the best part of eighty years?

Sacraments are not an irrelevance. I should know, I’m in the middle of writing a book about them! But neither are they an excuse for those within the church to assume an air of scathing superiority.  ‘Christenings’ are a genuine opportunity to engage with people who may not have thought about faith before but who, on looking for the first time at that tiny bundle for which they are totally responsible, feel a stirring of something beyond themselves which might be vaguely recognised as ‘spiritual’.

The question is, how do we, within the church, help new parents harness that emotion and start to make the journey from vague spiritual stirrings to full-blown faith in Christ? If it is the first time in years (or ever) that they have thought about God, perhaps it is a bit much to expect them to be ready, within a few weeks and after a few ‘lessons’, to declare their own faith and promise to bring their child up in the life of the church.

I suspect that, in practical terms, Church baptismal traditions which have developed over centuries or, in some cases, millennia, are unlikely to be changed overnight because of one blog piece.

My experience is that, by setting the conversation about the ‘Baptism’ ceremony within the context of the ‘Christening’ event, it is possible to have conversations with new parents about what Baptism actually means and requires. They can then make an informed choice about the most appropriate way to celebrate the birth of, and ask God’s blessing on, their child.

They may well still choose Baptism (because culturally a ‘Christening’ does require ‘water’), but at least they will have a better understanding of what the water and sign of the cross on their child’s head signifies. And who knows, the ceremony which should really be a key marker on a journey of faith, might well, by the grace of God, become the initial signpost.

To read some background about the Sacrament of Baptism click here

Faith inspiring action through the power of touch

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… or, why the ministry of touch is about more than just hugging

Unsurprisingly, one of Hug Cullompton‘s main spiritual activities is hugging, a practice not without controversy.  When our delegation went to the Town Council to ask for sponsorship, it was suggested that we might be a safeguarding risk! The community police officer simply pointed out that we weren’t forcing anyone to do anything. The Town Council voted overwhelmingly to support Hug Cullompton, offering to part-fund the tabards we wear to show that we are official ‘huggers’.

What might seem a simple act – hugging others – is reflective of a deep theology we share. You can read more about it here. Human beings are bodily creations. We are made in the image of a God who is love, who loves unconditionally, and who chose to take on bodily form in the person of Jesus. As Paul the Apostle writes in the Bible, human bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit (1 Cor. 3.6),  “treasure in clay jars” (2 Cor. 4.7) to be respected and cherished.

This emphasis on physicality has inspired us to serve in three key ways

1. Providing positive, loving, unthreatening physical contact – or hugging!

A group of us regularly adorn tabards and attend town events, offering anyone who wants one a hug. Those who don’t are offered a card containing the slogan, ‘a free hug, just for you’, which they can keep or pass on to someone else.  Over the years we have become well known in the town, even sought out.  One widowed lady told us that, since her husband had died a few years before, she had gone from being hugged every day to no physical contact at all. The hug we gave her that day was priceless!

2. Caring for human bodies

On Wellbeing Wednesdays we open our room in the High Street for anyone to pop in for a hug, a chat, cuppa, prayer or treatment.  Our purpose is to offer wholeness – in body, mind and soul.  We have a variety of clients and volunteers, of differing ages and backgrounds, and we welcome each individual in their own right, making no assumptions about why they might be there or what they are seeking or offering.  Through the time given and complimentary treatments offered, our clients can begin to get to the root of what it is burdening them, whether it be emotional, spiritual or practical.  While leaving medical issues to medical professionals, we can offer an alternative way of viewing the journey to wholeness, enabling people to find peace, joy and a sense of their own worth.

3. Ministry of presence in the community

One stated objective – described sometimes as ‘Hugging Cullompton’ – is to make a transformative difference in the town,  Our pattern is to discern a need, find a way to address it then, when it is ready, give it autonomy, bless it, and let it go. Projects have included a community fair, festival venues, art exhibitions and, most recently, the establishment of A Culm Valley Men in Sheds organisation.

Our name, logo and activities are all the consequence of periods of shared prayer/reflection/meditation. We are touched by the ‘Divine Embrace’ of a God who is love, and can in turn reach out and embrace others.  As it says in the Bible:

Beloved, since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us. (1 John 4.11-12)

A theology of touch

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or, why Hug Cullompton hugs in the first place.

The Bible tells us that humankind is created in the image of God (Gen. 1.26-27) .  We are embodied, an immortal soul housed in a temporary shell (2 Cor.5.1-5).  Like Adam and Eve in Genesis chapter 2, we are meant not to be alone, but to live in relationship with others; and living in relationship with others – whether we like it or not – necessarily includes physical touch.

The importance of touch

That Jesus’ way of revealing his messianic identity runs contrary to accepted cultural norms, should be no surprise to those who know their Bible.  He is renowned for dining with sinners and befriending the lost.  But the most revealing encounters of all, those which flesh out the identity of Jesus as the most unconventional of saviours, invariably include touch:

  • He demonstrates his priestly identity by laying his hands on and blessing children (Matthew 9.13-15 //);
  • He is anointed by a woman whose hair is hanging lose (a sign of disrepute), and who wipes the perfume away with mix of her hair and her tears (Mark 14.3-9, John 12.3-8 //); and
  • On the night of the Last Supper, when he institutes the sacramental practice of sharing bread and wine in remembrance of him, he first washes the feet of the disciples – an activity usually carried out only by the most lowly (John 13.3-14). The man, who is God made human, turns Kingship on its head in a supreme act of servanthood.

And when, following the meal,  Jesus is arrested, the ultimate betrayal is committed through the most intimate of touches – a kiss (Mark 14.43-46 //).

After the resurrection Mary Magdalene reaches for him in the garden (John 20.15-18), Thomas is invited to touch his hands and his side (John 20.26-29), Jesus is bodily present as he walks alongside a couple on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24.13-35), conversing and sharing a meal with them, and soon afterwards he appears on the beach, cooking for, and sharing breakfast with, his disciples (John 21.4-14).

A whole host of scholars, including Ched Myers, NT Wright, James DG Dunn and Andrew Harvey, have explored at length the radical nature of Jesus’ ministry (see ‘Suggested Reading’ Below).  Bob Johnson, in his book When Heaven Invades Earth, suggests that the true greatness of Christ is revealed, not in messiahship as understood by his first century peers (they expected a revolutionary overthrower of the Imperial Roman Power), but in his solidarity with the poor, the disempowered, the lost and the alone. The most remarkable thing is Christ’s willingness to touch those considered untouchable – because, as sacred creations knitted together in their mother’s womb (Psalm 139), no-one is beyond God’s touch.

Healing through touch

A major part of Jesus’ ministry was healing – bringing wholeness to others.  He cured physical diseases, but also relieved mental infirmities and offered forgiveness to those who needed it. Despite a cultural hesitancy to allow physical contact with people who were considered ‘unclean’ (due to illness or lack of morality)  Jesus was never hesitant in touching anyone. Early in the book of Luke, Jesus “lays hands” on all those who come to him at sundown for healing.  To heal a deaf man with speech difficulties he puts his fingers in the man’s ears, and spits on his hands then touches his tongue. Later a man’s sight is restored after Jesus mingles mud with spittle and rubs it on his eyes.  When a woman who has been suffering from menstrual problems for 18 years touches his cloak, Jesus feels the power go out of him. Although he has not seen who she is, it is the sense of touch which is important. Her reaching for him, combined with her faith in his ability to perform miracles, results in her miraculous healing from a longterm illness which, according to the culture of the time, had made her unclean in the eyes of her peers.

There is something both intimate and earthy about these physical expressions of loving service.  Jesus isn’t afraid of getting stuck in; of allowing human beings to be physically touched by God.  Although Jesus’ healing power is not dependent on touch –  he is recorded as both raising men from the dead and healing two children close to death without needing to be alongside the bodies or even present – there is an expectation that, by the laying on of hands, Jesus heals.

In acknowledging the importance of laying hands on someone, Jesus is being recognised by his peers as having more than a coincidental healing talent. His actions are equated with anointing. They are holy acts – acts which bring physical, emotional and spiritual wholeness to the person on which they are laid.

This focus on wholeness has been explored at length by the members of Hug Cullompton.  The way we eat, pray, exercise, laugh, live and worship, both together and in our daily lives, are discussed regularly. Wellbeing Wednesdays is our opportunity to extend our theology of touch to anyone who is in need of help, whether they come for regular ‘sessions’ or just pop in on the off-chance. The member who started Wellbeing Wednesdays is herself a healer and life coach, practising a variety of disciplines in order to help people look beyond physical symptoms to the emotional or spiritual issues might be at the root of their discomfort.

We never suggest that people stop taking the advice, medication or treatment offered by their GP and other health professionals, and we will often give details of nutritionists, osteopaths or other professionally qualified practitioners who we think might be able to help. But while the NHS really only has only limited resources to address medical problems, at Hug Cullompton we can give the time needed for to a person to begin to explore finding wholeness.

The touch of the Holy Spirit

During his final evening with the disciples, Jesus promised them an advocate, the Holy Spirit (John 14.25-26, 15.26-27; Acts 1.6-8).  This is the aspect of God which came to the apostles on the day of Pentecost, and the person of the Trinity which remains present in the world to this day.  In the book of Acts the coming of the Holy Spirit is described as being like tongues of fire, touching each one on the believers (Acts 2.1-3).  Throughout history followers of Jesus have described a similar experience when they feel the power of the Holy Spirit. It may not be seen or heard, but it is certainly experienced as a tangible ‘thing’.

Bill Johnson’s theology of healing is a pneumatological one (meaning it is founded on an understanding of how the Holy Spirit works in the world). He argues that, in becoming fully human, Jesus emptied himself of his divinity (Phil 2.5-10), and became entirely dependent on the power of Holy Spirit to carry out his work in the world.  It is through the power of the Holy Spirit that Christ heals infirmities, feeds thousands, stills storms and walks on water. Johnson’s conclusion is that, by the power of the same Spirit, all humans can equal this – a rather far fetched assumption to say the least!  However, the presumption that human empowerment, in the name of Christ and fuelled by the Holy Spirit, can achieve immeasurably more than can initially be envisaged, is not (Eph 3.20-21). Miracles do happen, healing does take place. I have seen with my own eyes, and experienced for myself, the healing power of prayer.

The Body of Christ in reaching out

From very early on in their history, Christian communities described themselves as  the Body of Christ (1 Cor. 12).  This understanding of corporate embodiment is a fundamental aspect of the common Christian life, both in the way individual members feel a tangible sense of attachment to each other, and how they reach out together to the world around them.

Hug Cullompton has certainly adopted an attitude of corporate embodiment. We committed, from day one, to be there for ourselves, each other and out town.  We have initiated projects which address personal wholeness and healing, but also others which embrace and promulgate a holistic vision for residents. We have made tea, given hugs, prayed with and ministered to a multitude of people in the past five years. In addition we have promoted talent, encouraged people to explore the Arts, raised money for the local swimming pool campaign and started an organisation providing friendship and purpose, specifically for men.

Our name – Hug Cullompton – is no coincidence. Both the title and ministry attached to it are based on a great deal of prayer, reflection and mutual love.  As a body we reach out to touch others – both individuals and organisations.  In committing to bring about wholeness to our town and its residents, we practice what Jesus both preached and demonstrated:

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth. (John 1.14)

Suggested Reading:

Dunn, James DG, 2011, Jesus, Paul and the Gospels (Grand Rapids, Eerdmans)

Harvey, Andrew, 1999, Son of Man: The Mystical Path to Christ (New York, Putnam)

Johnson, Bill, 2003, When Heaven Invades Earth: A Practical Guide to a Life of Miracles (Shippensburg, PA, Destiny Image)

Myers, Ched, 2008, Binding the Strong Man: A Political Reading of Mark’s Story of Jesus (New York, Orbis)

Wright, NT, 2012, How God became King: The Forgotten Story of the Gospels (London, HarperOne)

 

 

 

 

Thinking again about ‘Worship and Mission’

fullsizeoutput_13fe…or, being realistic in churches about what can be achieved.

In Worship and Mission After Christendom (2011), Alan and Eleanor Kreider suggest that, until recently, the terms ‘Worship’ and ‘Mission’ were rarely used together as a single phrase. In Christendom times responsibility for ‘Worship’ was the job of professional clergy, created for a population who habitually attended once a week.  Meanwhile the task of ‘Mission’ was handed to a separate group of professionals, employed and commissioned by organisations such as the London Missionary Society, Church Mission Society and Baptist Missionary Society, who were sent overseas to convert non-Christians in far away lands. Meanwhile, the job of congregations in this country was to fund and pray for them. (pp.1-3)

In many churches the prevailing culture which separates worship from mission remains so utterly dominant it is hard to break.  Religion has, until recently, been the preserve of our personal lives. That is not to say individual Christians haven’t always lived out their own call to discipleship. It is simply that responsibility for a church’s corporate mission was seen as the responsibility of a small group of experts.

Those in the habit of ‘going to church’ have been used to listening to a sermon, the contents of which they can absorb and adopt privately, with no requirement to discuss what they have heard; not with the worshippers sitting next to them or – heaven help them – with someone they might encounter outside the church.

Even for those who know change is both necessary and inevitable, being the product of Christendom culture makes the challenge of becoming actively ‘missional’ uncomfortable.  The truth is that, for most members who are the product of Christendom Church, the transition from passive worshipper to full-on evangelist is terrifying – and utterly implausible.

What then, are we to do, if we who are passionate about the Church and want to see a future for it, actually find the prospect of ‘evangelism’ terrifying?

Changing Sunday Morning Worship (or not!)

Let us begin with the issue of worship.

Steve Aisthorpe, in his fascinating study The Invisible Church: Learning from the Experiences of Churchless Christians (2016), starts by debunking seven myths about why churches are in decline. One is “if congregations do the right things leavers will become returners.”

Although 30% of leavers surveyed in the 2015 Faith in Scotland study said they would consider returning to church if they were offered a different style of worship, the majority said they wouldn’t. While some non-attenders interviewed by Aisthorpe would consider joining a small group for discussion, the majority have found leaving the church liberating, enabling them to pursue what they believe to be their Christian vocation outside the bounds of institutional religion.

This implies that, while offering different opportunities for Christian worship and/or formation holds merit, simply changing services on Sunday mornings is not the answer. Adding the odd chorus or discussion section to a traditional service format is not going to attract anyone new – although it might appeal to some who are disillusioned but still attending.

The positive outcome of this myth-debunking is to relieve traditional congregations, who value their style of worship and are fed spiritually by it, from feeling they ought to change.  My suggestion is that, when it comes to Sunday mornings leave well alone, but get those who do attend to accept that, while it is right for them, their preferred method of spiritual succour is not  for everyone.

If Jesus is for everyone – and I sincerely hope every Christian believes that – then an alternative form of worship and/or Christian formation needs to be found – or at lest experimented with, at a different time and possibly in a different venue.  Sunday morning worshippers need not attend these new activities – but they should be advocating for, encouraging, praying for and blessing them. That in itself is a change in attitude, changing the focus of the church from inward to outward looking.

Changing the focus of the church

In their book The Permanent Revolution: Apostolic Imagination and Practice for the 21st Century Church (2012), Alan Hirsch and Tim Catchim suggest that, to create fertile ground for the church in the 21st century, a change in mindset is needed. They suggest that, rather than using time and energy maintaining the church as it is, Christians should be encouraged to think creatively how they might best contribute to the mission of God.  

In practice this means refocusing one’s efforts away from church activities, and concentrating on how to be ‘salt and light’ in the world.  Focussing the growth of the church on attracting people on Sunday mornings with the expectation that half the British population will wake up one morning with a sudden desire to ‘go to church’ is utterly unrealistic.

One of the benefits of this change in focus is that it releases members of churches which no longer provide huge numbers of activities, from toddler groups to tea dances, from a sense of failure and guilt.  “We used to..” and “We’ve already tried…” are rarely helpful ways to start a sentence when discerning what God is calling churches to next.

Instead members might consider their own life of discipleship – not necessarily the rotas they are on or church organisations they support – but their own day to day activities.  It might be that in their spare time they do the shopping for a neighbour or help out at a local charity shop. In their professional lives they might work in an office or provide a service for others.  As members of a family with friendships they will have a circle of relationships to which they are committed.

Hirsch and Catchim suggest that none of these things are divorced from the life of faith, just because they do not take place within the confines of a church building or context of a church family.  Discipleship is the act of living as a follower of Jesus; not just at church but during every hour of every day. Serving the Church – which is the body of Christ – is incorporated into all these things; and they are all aspects of building the Kingdom of God, regardless of their level of interaction with the institutional Church.

Church members will often display a sense of guilt because they can’t manage to take on yet another task for the church.  By transforming the way discipleship is defined, channels are opened up for people to continue their walk with Jesus guilt-free, liberated to enjoy life more, and become an example of Christianity that inspires and attracts people to want to know more about.  The London Institute of Contemporary Christianity has excellent resources to help churches think in this way. One course,  Fruitfulness on the Front Line, has been successfully used by churches. See here how it inspired members of Muddiford United Reformed Church.

Being Realistic about Who Can Achieve What

Despite what seems like a relentless desire by some within church traditions to equate discipleship with evangelism, they are not the same thing. Paul’s describes a multitude of gifts required to “build up” the Christian community (Ephesians 4.1-16). Only one of these is ‘evangelist’.  Discipleship can take on many forms, one of which is persuading others to follow Jesus, but not everyone has strong debating skills in their make-up.  Trying to make people what they’re not – for the sake of Christ – is not, I would suggest, very Biblical.

For those congregations without natural evangelists it is very depressing to keep hearing they must ‘make new disciples’ if ‘making new disciples’ is understood only to refer to evangelism. The truth is that few people come to faith through hearing a testimony and undergoing an instant radical conversion experience. For most it is a journey and, if current experts are to be believed, a longer one than it once was.

There are ways of helping people along without headlong evangelistic fervour. A more realistic way of doing it is accompaniment. Someone being accompanied on those first steps of faith might eventually be ready to attend a course such a Alpha or Essence, but equally, if not more important, is the gentle presence of someone alongside, who is open to questions, having been inspirational enough to make someone want to ask in the first place.

Attracting New Sunday Morning Worshippers

I am constantly amazed by those who are puzzled that no-one new comes to their church – when they have never invited anyone.  “Isn’t that the job of the minister?” asks a member of a congregation which hasn’t had its own minister for many years, and has no real prospect of obtaining one.

The evidence is that the majority of people who start to attend church do not do so in a vacuum. They are attracted by the example of a Christian known to them, are invited to church by them, are welcomed when they attend, and are accompanied as they are introduced to what ‘going to church’ is like.

For someone completely new to church culture, attending a Sunday service can be both intimidating and puzzling. Although the members of a church have emotional attachments both to their fellow worshippers and building, new people will not.  Troubling aspects of services such as poor preaching, problems with the music, inadequate heating or uncomfortable chairs will be overlooked by those emotionally attached; but if someone trying church for the first time is bored, cold or uncomfortable it is unlikely they will return.

Churches which do grow through worship services invest in creating a quality worship experience.  This is not to say everyone wants church to include a professional worship band and renowned preacher.  But acknowledging and committing to addressing issues which might be putting off current worshippers from inviting someone else to ‘come to church’ could be a start in transforming the quality of worship experience they offer.

This article has been an attempt to make a few tentative suggestions for those who desperately desire to see their church grow and thrive, but cannot see a way beyond the current decline. The changes I am suggesting are not expensive – except for churches who might decide to employ professionals to continue a traditional pattern of ‘Worship and Mission’. They are to do with realisation, a change in attitude, and a change in focus; simple ways to share a faith in Jesus which can be sustaining, challenging, and ultimately irresistible to others.

Suggested Reading:

Aisthorpe, S, 2016, The Invisible Church: Learning from the Experiences of Churchless Christians (Edinburgh, St Andrews Press)

Hirsch , A and Catchim, T, 2012, The Permanent Revolution: Apostolic Imagination and Practice for the 21st Century Church (San Francisco, Jossey Bass)

Kreider A. and Kreider E, 2011, Worship and Mission After Christendom (Milton Keynes, Paternoster)

Walking the journey from despair to hope…

beach-sea-coast-sand-ocean-horizon-531737-pxhere.com… or, facing the reality that the church needs change and working out how

I remember the day I first discovered that the church in Great Britain is in decline.  The year was 2007 and I was sitting in my first MA seminar.  The module was entitled Secularisation and the Church, and on the screen was a graph charting the decline of the different denominations. The United Reformed Church (URC) line was the steepest.

I remember feeling angry. I was a relatively newly ordained minister, with a church maintaining its numbers, despite a number of deaths among older congregation members. As a church we generally blamed our lack of substantial growth on the church down the road, attendance there being a prerequisite for admission to the  local church school.  As I stared at the line-of-decline I felt as though I had been deluding myself. Our failure to attract new attenders had less to do with church school policy and more to do with societal and cultural changes to which we, as the church, weren’t responding . It seemed I had dedicated years of my life, and my future, to a failing organisation.

For the next few years debate continued on whether or not Britain had become secularised  – as though denying a truth would make it go away.  The way I see it now, even if it wasn’t the case then, we are living in a secular age – if we mean, by the term ‘secular’, an age in which British people generally no longer understand the world through the lens of formal religion.  What the sociologist Peter Berger (1990) termed the ‘sacred canopy’, under which people make meaning in England, has indeed been seriously compromised, if not fractured.

Which raises a question: what is the Church to do about it?

A book which tackles this subject is Mark Ireland and Mike Booker’s Making New Disciples: Exploring the Paradoxes of Evangelism (2015).  It is a follow up to Evangelism: Which Way Now? published in 2003, which outlines and assesses a variety of evangelistic courses.

In Making New Disciples Ireland and Booker begin by acknowledging the societal and cultural changes which have impacted the church since the publication of their first book:

  • Increasing secularisation in Britain has resulted in the marginalisation of the church in public life;*
  • Britons claiming to identify as Christians are now a minority, and even fewer align themselves with any particular denomination;
  • People are less likely to join institutions of any kind, including the church;
  • Many of those who do not relate to Christianity see the Church as “repressive, sexist, homophobic and often associated with child abuse”;
  • Research has shown that Christians are less likely to attach importance to passing on their faith than teaching manners and a moral code.

*although sociologists such as Grace Davie and theologians such as Elaine Graham are arguing for the reverse of this – labelling it a ‘post-secular age’

They suggest that what they call ‘standard’ churches no longer appeal to the majority of British people.  Grace Davie suggests that, for those now into a third generation of non-participance in institutional religious life and hardly any understanding of the Christian narrative at all, Church as a concept holds virtually no relevance.

Despite all these negative facts about the state of the institutional church, my personal experience is that there is still an interest in, if not thirst for, that which is beyond human understanding.  Whether it manifests itself in going to church, performing occasional internet searches, or attending Mind, Body, Spirit fairs, I have found that the urge to identify with, and find some comfort in, a benevolent creative power and sense of an afterlife, is very much alive and well in Mid-Devon.

The question, then, is how do we harness this interest in a belief system among those who wouldn’t even consider ‘going to church’ to find the answers? An even more profound a question is, do we need to?

For Ireland and Booker the answer to the latter question is ‘yes’. They are, after all, committed members of the Church of England.  Their suggested method is what might be called a ‘blended economy’ of church – a variety of different expressions, united in a relationship of mutual prayer and support:

Fresh Expressions and inherited mode churches together, listening to one another and working to see what God is doing, have the potential to grasp a new understanding of the Church of God. It is less a case of ‘traditional’ and ‘fresh’ running in parallel but separate from each other, and more one of a changing, emerging shape, with both old and new being changed by mutual understanding, respect, listening and care. The future could be a new shape of church for all of us. (pp.152-153)

Ireland and Booker are realistic about the ability of evangelistic courses, so popular a decade ago, to bring people into encounter with the church for the first time.  They suggest that people who have no church background are more likely to be attracted through being invited by someone whose faith inspires them, than by seeing a service or course advertised and being enticed in.  They also argue for a richer variety of means of delivering worship, citing Messy Church, New Monastic communities and other forms of Fresh Expressions (experimental ways of worshiping),  as valid ways of doing this.

In a society which is increasingly secularised, there is a need for the church to respond to the variety of beliefs expressed by those around us, with openness and grace. Through reading the book I have identified four key influencers for someone considering exploring the Christian faith for the first time:

  • Example: many of those who come to faith do so because they have been inspired by someone known personally to them, and want to know more about that person’s motivation.
  • Invitation: it is an immense step for anyone to walk into a church or activity which is completely unfamiliar to them. If they are invited by someone who will accompany them throughout it is made much easier.
  • Welcome: there isn’t a Christian I know who hasn’t had one of  those bone-crunchingly awful experiences of going to a new church and being made to feel wholly unwelcome.  Being accepteded and valued from the start is key to a successful introduction to church.
  • Accompaniment: the journey to faith is often a long and complicated one, made much less confusing and challenging for someone if walked alongside someone who is there to love, support and pray for them.

Making New Disciples is a great resource for those looking for ideas and initiatives to attract new people to the church.  The authors highlight the importance of prayer and spiritual development, alongside committing to following Jesus day-by-day (discipleship), and developing the habit of sharing faith with others.  At the heart of it is their assertion that the future of the church lies, not in developing church-shaped-disciples, but a disciple-shaped-church.

Suggested Reading:

Ireland, M. and Booker, M., 2015, Making New Disciples: Exploring the Paradoxes of Evangelism (London, SPCK)

Brown, C, 2009 (2nd ed.), The Death of Christian Britain: Understanding Secularisation 1800-2000 (Abingdon, Routledge)

Berger, P, 1990 (2nd ed.), Sacred Canopy: Elements of a Sociological Theory of Religion (New York, Anchor)

Davie, Grace, “Religion in Public Life: Levelling the Ground” in Theos Think Tank, https://www.theosthinktank.co.uk/research/2017/10/28/religion-in-public-life-levelling-the-ground, accessed 31/07/2018

Graham, E, 2017, Apologetics without Apology: Speaking of God in a World Troubled by Religion (Eugene, OR, Wipf & Stock)

Church ‘in the thick of it’

action-administration-austria-258644.jpg..or, refocusing the core identity of the church

I recently attended a session entitled ‘Ministry on the Edge’, although I wasn’t sure what ‘on the edge’ meant. Was it working in ‘edgy’ roles, ministering to people ‘on the edge’ of the church or engaging with those on the margins of society?

I was reminded of a time I had accompanied an ex-offender to his first appointments on release from prison. I was a community chaplain at the prison, and it was my job to meet him at the gate.  During the forty minute bus journey to get to his home town, we talked.

He told about his family life. His mother was a heroin addict.  His father had left when he was three. He had been in and out of care throughout his childhood, and his oldest brother was a well-known local drug dealer.  Not visiting his brother was a condition of his release, due to the likelihood of him getting mixed up in criminal behaviour and re-offending.  Instead he was given a place in a hostel on the edge of town. When I saw it I was shocked. I wouldn’t have placed my worst enemy there, let alone someone struggling to go straight after a life of crime.  I knew he wouldn’t stay there, and I would be seeing him back at the prison in the very near future.

That piece of ministry might have been in an ‘edgy’ role with a person ‘on the margins of society’ and certainly on the fringes of the church; but, to him, that day was a pivotal moment in his life, and I was there alongside him.

One of the things I love about Christian ministry and service, in all its different forms, is the way God calls the unlikeliest of people to place those who might be considered ‘on the edge’ at the centre of their concern.  The media might represent the church as an institution preoccupied with processional activities and doctrinal wrangles, but in reality, day by day, people, motivated by their faith in Christ, are visiting the sick and lonely, feeding the hungry, supporting those who want to turn their backs on a life of crime; and bringing hope to the hopeless.

What might be considered ministry ‘on the edge’ is, in reality, ministry ‘in the thick of it’ – ‘being’ the hands of Christ.  All around the world, both within and outside the bounds of church, Christians evidence their faithfulness through faithful action.

Jesus said:

The Spirit of the Lord is on me,
    because he has anointed me
    to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners
    and recovery of sight for the blind,
to set the oppressed free,
    to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.   (Luke 4.18-19)

That’s what churches do.  That’s what Church is.  While processional activities and doctrinal wrangles are both part of the rich fabric of the church, that’s not what Jesus claimed it to be about. It is by locating its core right in the thick of it, alongside the impoverished, the imprisoned, those who suffer inequality and the oppressed, that I believe the church can best fulfil its calling. In that way, we will get a better glimpse of God’s future – and the future of the church.

For more on relocating the focus of the church, click here.

Relocating church into ‘the thick of it’

sand-wood-floor-garden-japan-material-580713-pxhere.com

Is there a difference between being ‘missional’ and ‘mission minded’?

When I first heard the term ‘missional’, I thought it was a made-up word; one of those pieces of jargon that would have its day then fade away, much like a lot of trends.

But the term is here to stay, and as time has gone on I have fallen in love with it.  One reason is that those I first heard using the term were those whose missiology (way of thinking about mission) I most respected, and whose ecclesiology (way of understanding the nature of church) resonated most with mine.

So what is it that makes a church ‘missional’, rather than just ‘mission minded’?  To my way of thinking it’s all to do with mindset. A ‘mission minded’ church understands itself fundamentally as a worshipping community, with a commitment to reaching out to others, serving them or inviting them to come and join. A ‘missional’ church is one which sets down  roots and creates identity within its cultural context; and it is developing from that context that members gather for worship and spiritual nurture.

One of the best books about being a ‘missional’ church is Michael Frost and Alan Hirsch’s The Shaping of Things to Come. First written in 2003, then re-edited and republished in 2013, the premise of the book is that, for a church to be fully ‘missional’, it needs to be ‘incarnational’.  In simple terms this means that it models itself on the identity and actions of Jesus.

Frost and Hirsch identity four features of the incarnation which, for them, are key to modelling a church fit for today’s world:

  1. Through the person of Jesus, God identifies with humanity, down to the smallest, seemingly most insignificant person;
  2. As fully human, Jesus’ identity was shaped, both by his context (first century Galilee) and his relationships (with Mary and Joseph, the people of Galilee, his disciples and those whom he encountered during his ministry);
  3. In Jesus, heaven and earth meet, opening up access to God for all, not just the educated or those in positions of power or authority; and
  4. In Jesus we see the human image of God – and therefore the ultimate example of whom we should follow and how we should live.

As a consequence they argue that, for a church to be missional, it should reflect these four features.  It should be:

  1. For everyone, regardless of age, social background or educational ability;
  2. Fully alongside the people with whom it minsters, engaging in, and being impacted by, their cultural context and life experiences;
  3. An experience of heaven meeting earth; where Christ is encountered in transformative, life-afirming ways; and
  4. Modelling itself on the actions and teachings of Jesus.

Frost and Hirsch are critical of many forms of church, suggesting that, all too often, they “make the gospel synonymous with a bland, middle-class conformity, and thereby alienate countless people from encountering Christ.”   They even go as far as suggesting that Jesus himself might struggle to fit in with the vast majority of congregations today.  (p.58)

Instead they call for churches to adopt a way of being which is formed through relationships rather than activities.  Gathering and worshipping become the organic consequence of a growing sense of relationship, with Jesus and between one another, rather than an activity to which people who might be interested are invited.  They describe their vision for the church thus:

An incarnational mode creates a church that is a dynamic set of relationships, friendships, and acquaintances. It enhances and “flavors” the host communities’ living social fabric rather than disaffirming it. It creates a medium of living relationships through which the gospel can travel… a group of Christians infiltrating a community, like salt and light, to make those creative connections with people where God-talk and shared experience allow for real cross cultural Christian mission to take place (p.62)

When they speak of ‘cross-cultural mission’, they do not mean working with ‘others’ in foreign countries. They are actually speaking about their own – in this case Australia. The mission, which they believe is called for by God, is needed within their own communities and with people they know – the majority of whom have no knowledge of, or encounter with, the Jesus whose gospel message they so desperately want to share.

The Shaping of Things to Come might make uncomfortable reading for those who love, and are immersed in, traditional church culture – in fact it does come with a health warning at the beginning.  It is a rare person who wishes to read a book so highly critical of that in which they are so heavily invested – and perhaps at times it is over-critical. However, it does have some important observations to make, and I challenge anyone who reads it not to see merit in the radical change for which they argue.

The question remains, what are we in the church to do?  As I said at the beginning of this article, I do believe that transforming from being ‘mission minded’ to ‘missional’ is chiefly about mindset.  The challenge to us is not dissimilar to the one issued by Jesus to the disciples who were present at the Transfiguration (Mark 9.2-8//).

When Peter discovered himself in the very presence of the Transfigured Christ, his instinct was to build a tabernacle – a dwelling place for Jesus and each of the prophets.  He wanted to stay there, keeping the experience where heaven and earth collided forever up a mountain.  But Jesus was having none of it. He insisted that the consequence of such a sacred experience was to go back down into the valley and to abide there, serving the poor, the dispossessed and those most in need of healing.

In the prologue to his Gospel, John writes that Jesus, God made human, dwelt (literally ‘pitched his tent’) among us (John 1.14). It was from that dwelling place that he sent out his disciples to be his hands in the world.  Again and again throughout Bible we read accounts of transformational encounters between individuals, about relationships forged and communities formed. They were not without issues – and at times Paul is scathing about the way some of the earliest believers treated others. But the earliest churches were, by and large, vibrant, egalitarian communities, sharing worship over meals in people’s homes; with believers and enquirers sharing something of their own, of themselves, with those to whom they were bound by faith.

It seems to me that, in The Shaping of Things to Come, Frost and Hirsch recapture some of the vision of the early church. Such visionary endeavour is not limited to their writing, nor to their methodology. But it is worth a read.  And it is worth reflecting on whether, in the future – or indeed in the present – we wish our churches to be ‘missional’ or ‘mission minded’.

Suggested Reading:

Frost, M. and Hirsch, A, 2015 (2nd ed.) The Shaping of Things to Come: Innovation and Mission for the 21st Century (Grand Rapids, Baker Books)

 

forming community through (a) prayer

lords-prayer-statueThe story of the ‘Hug Prayer’

A friend recently asked me, “Why do they keep changing what they put in the Bible?”

I was confused. As far as I was concerned the contents of the Bible were more or less fixed in the second century, give or take the odd section, and a bit of arguing over the ordering of it its contents.

The person with whom I was speaking was actually referring to the modern version of the Lord’s Prayer. She couldn’t understand why the ‘proper’ one was no longer used in her local parish church. I explained the history of the Lord’s Prayer, the words of which were originally spoken by Jesus, probably in Aramaic (a dialect from the first century CE),  then later recorded in Greek.  By about the fourth century most people who could read the Bible, read a Latin translation of it.  It wasn’t until the fifteenth century that the Bible began to be translated into the vernacular (national languages, including English), with what we now know as the Authorised, or King James version, being used from 1611. The version to which my friend was referring, using a modern translation from Greek into English, is the one formally adopted by the Church of England in 1989.

The Lord’s Prayer has played an important role within the life of Hug Cullompton.  In February, 2015, while we were starting to think of putting some of our values onto paper,   we decided that, rather than write a vision or values statement, we would compose a prayer, outlining our beliefs and motivations as a community.  One of the Huggers came across an interpretation of the Lord’s Prayer  online.  It is written by Mark Hathaway, who describes it as “something between a poetic translation and “midrash” based on the ancient roots of the Aramaic words of the prayer.” 

Mark Hathaway’s interpretation helped us think about our own understanding and response to the words of Jesus and, after much debate (including a three month email conversation making sure we were all happy with the terminology we used), we adopted our own ‘Hug Prayer’ in May, 2015.

The process we went through might sound simple and short-lived. The reality is that the prayer was three years in the making.  Until we had relaxed into a way of being and thinking together, respecting each others’ very different spiritual views, it would have been impossible, even to open up such a conversation, much less to write a prayer we could all agree on.  The issue of the way language is used to understand and communicate ideas about faith is a huge one, which is probably why I will return to it again and again. This was a mere example of the complexity.

I await permission to reproduce Mark Hathaway’s interpretation of the Lord’s Prayer, so in the meantime, here is The Hug Prayer without it:

Hug Prayer copy