Thursday 29 October 2009

My churches part 2

My worshipping life changed a lot when I moved to York to go to university.  After trying out one or two places I settles into the 7pm congregation at St Michael le Belfry, and have been there ever since.  What I think I liked about St Mike's was how different it was to my previous experience of church.  There were many people my age, teaching that was relevant to me, the worship was different- not just in style but in how it felt.  Sermons were longer, around 30 minutes, and the worship was much more modern- and the worship band were louder!  Oddly perhaps, there was also slightly more liturgy.  There was something different at work in St Mike's that I hadn't felt- or only very occasionally- at Downham Methodist.  People there were welcoming to the Holy Spirit, something I'd barely heard about before.

I love St Mike's.  I've learnt a lot through being part of it and it has certainly changed the way I worship and helped me in many ways.  But that doesn't mean I can't see flaws, or don't sometimes get frustrated with it.  For a start, the church is so big that nobody can know everyone who is part of it.  Even after I've been there six years, people frequently ask if I'm new.  Not that that in itself is a problem.  But it can be hard to get to know people- since my uni friends have all left I sometimes feel a bit lonely as I don't quite fit in with the students or the 'proper' adults.  It's hard to meet the needs of everyone in such a big group.  Also, with so many people it can be hard to get a chance to develop the skills and gifts I feel I should be- there's little room for beginners to make mistakes when there are so many people.

That's partly why I've recently found myself enjoying something I didn't think I would.  Transcendence is a service that started two years ago as a joint project between York Minster and the Visions community (which is attached to St Mike's).  Transcendence draws on both high church traditions and modern multimedia worship, mixing plainchant and 'ambient beats,' incense and liturgy with creative prayer.  It's a service that engages all the senses in worship, sight, sound, smell, touch and taste.  

I don't normally like High Church ceremony.  It can seem cold and designed to create distance between God or the clergy and the people.  But Transcendence is different, somehow.  The atmosphere created by sound, smell and the beautiful surroundings of the Minster is somehow both awe inspiring and intimate.  Which I think is a good reflection of our relationship with God.  I don't know all that many people at Transcendence yet, and perhaps because it's still part of Visions there isn't as much of a distinct community- or at least, that's my experience as an outsider coming in.  It may just be that I've only been a few times and haven't had the chance to chat to people much.  But  I like Transcendence because it challenges me.  The 7pm service in some ways has become too comfortable in its style and content- I like being encouraged to pray and worship in a way I'm less comfortable with.    

So each church I've been part of has helped me grow in different ways.  There have been good and less good things about all of them, but they are what has helped me develop my understanding of my faith.  The variety of experience has also helped me think about what the church should be like and what is good or bad in a church.  None of them is perfect.  Everyone worships in different ways and a variety is good.  The main thing is to keep sight of what the church- globally and locally- is supposed to be, and for each church to do its' best in its' own way to fulfil that purpose.

Monday 26 October 2009

My churches part 1

As you can probably tell, I write about the church a lot.  It's something I feel I do know a bit about and am qualified to write about.  I am, or have been part of three 'churches' or congregations, all of which are quite different.  So I thought I'd do a post saying what I like and don't about each.

The church I grew up in was Downham Market Methodist Church (or, as the vandalised sign on the building used to say, Metodi Chch).  The congregation or about 100 were mostly well advanced in years (for a long time I was more or less the only person between the ages of 8 and 50) and the worship was pretty traditional, using hymns by the likes of John and Charles Wesley played on the organ, with the occasional venture into something 'modern' (ie written after 1950!).  There would be a sermon, which on your average Sunday would last around 15-20 minutes.

Very often as a teenager I felt incredible frustration with this church.  I was lonely without anyone else my age or anyone to relate to my problems as a young Christian growing up.  But more than that, I was frustrated because so many of the people who had attended that church for many years seemed to have forgotten some of what it meant to be a Christian.  While they personally may have felt that their faith was very much part of their lives, they seemed to have no interest whatever in sharing this faith with others in their community.  The church could feel very insular.  When occasionally new families would join the church, they would often leave after a few months because the older members had no understanding of or interest in the need to adapt themselves to accommodate new people and their needs, or new ways of doing things.

Having said all that, one thing that was really noticeable about this church was the sense of community.  Everyone knew almost everyone and was able to help and support those in need.  It was easy to spot new people and generally people would go to them and welcome them- they just didn't understand that they might have different needs.  Since I left some things have begun to change- slowly and with much resistance and sad argument- for the better, I believe, and I can see some hope for the future.  The other things I do like about the Methodist church is the unfussiness of worship and the commitment to lay leadership.  In most of the services the leader/ preacher is a local preacher, a lay person who has had some training but is one of the community, knowing the needs and interests of the congregation.  It also means you get to hear different preachers and different points of view.  Although ordained ministers are an important part of the church, the congregation is far less dependent on them than in many denominations.

So that was my childhood church.  Part two continues the story...

Thursday 22 October 2009

Do we go abroad because it's depressing at home?

Do we sometimes go abroad because it's depressing at home?

Over the last few days I've had several conversations on the subject of overseas missions.  Churches like mine often send out teams of members to different parts of the world (over the last couple of years people from my church have gone to Uganda, Mongolia, Cambodia, Nigeria and several other places, some more than once).  These teams have taken part in different activities from helping build a school to leading conferences to encourage and train local church leaders.

I started to wonder why this was.  Obviously I don't think it's a bad thing that people can travel to other countries and share their skills and knowledge with Christians around the world.  Often both sides learn from the other and people come back with a deepened faith and better understanding of what it is like to follow Jesus in difficult circumstances.  But is this the only reason it is, for want of a better word, so popular?

Going abroad on mission can seem so much more glamorous than trying to do similar work at home.  In Africa and Asia the church is growing while in Europe the picture is much more gloomy.  Do we in the church in Britain (apart from maybe a few places) feel some kind of despair and almost give up on ever seeing anything happen in our own communities?  Is it much easier for us to imagine people coming to Jesus amid the poverty and persecution of the developing world than among our own mostly middle-class neighbours?  Do we look at our own churches and wonder why anyone would want to come there?  Do we go abroad in the hope of seeing faith at work that will encourage us while the situation in our own country only depresses us?*

I think perhaps we do.  And it's not wrong to be encouraged and inspired by what is happening in other parts of the world.  What would be wrong is if we neglect our own communities and our own country in favour of going on high-profile trips abroad.  It might not be so exciting or produce immediate visible results, but that doesn't mean we're excused from doing it.  The church should be at the heart of the community.  Mission isn't just something that happens in Africa, or at certain times of the year.  I think it should invoke the idea of the church serving the community.

Someone pointed out in one discussion I had that while these teams and individuals are often prayed for in church services and prayer meetings, much less time is given to praying for those who have a mission role in our own community.  Which, if you think about it, is more or less all of us.  For example, there are several people at my church who are involved in social work, or who are teachers.  These people have a big impact on the lives of those they work with.  Perhaps we should learn to value what are traditionally seen as 'secular' jobs more.  And to value and support those who do mission 'at home,' a daily slog of meetings and initiatives that maybe don't seem exciting or don't see much result.

Jesus said his disciples would be his witnesses in Jerusalem and Judea (ie, locally and nationally) as well as throughout the world (internationally).  All are important, and all are valid.  Some people are called to one and some to another, some see great results and others don't but we shouldn't forget that we are all his witnesses, wherever we are.


*I say we although I've never personally been on such a trip.  Judge for yourselves if you think that has prejudiced my point of view.

Friday 16 October 2009

A short history of Bible translation

Recently I've come across several things about certain groups of American conservative Christians who believe that the King James Version is the only trustworthy and reliable translation of the Bible, and that all other translations or versions have a 'liberal' bias.  Ignoring that much of what they describe as 'liberal' most people would describe as 'sane,' does this claim make any sense?

Time for a history lesson.  The King James version was a translation made in the early seventeenth century (under the sponsorship of James I- or VI, if you're Scottish).  It followed on from a conference he'd called to try and sort out the English church, which was splitting between those who put more emphasis on style and ceremony, and the Puritan element which focused on preaching.  The Puritans hoped that James, coming from Scotland where the church was more to their liking, would reform the church along their lines, but the king didn't want to abolish bishops or relinquish his own control over the church.  He agreed to sponsor a new translation of the Bible as compensation to keep the Puritans within the church 'onside.'

The KJV was not (as some conservatives seem to believe) the 'original' English version.  English translations of the Bible had begun circulating in manuscript in the later middle ages due to clergyman John Wycliffe and the Lollard movement.  William Tyndale's translation was printed abroad and smuggled into early Tudor England.  And in 1539 Henry VIII authorised the King's Great Bible, the first legal translation.

Before that, the version of the Bible commonly used throughout the Catholic church was the Vulgate, St Jerome's 5th century Latin translation.  Around the end of the middle ages, more of Europe's learned classes had begun to study Greek and Hebrew, and had discovered many inaccuracies in the Vulgate.  This, along with the desire to make the Bible available to ordinary people in their own 'vernacular' language helped bring about the Reformation.  Martin Luther's German Bible, for example, was translated from Greek and Hebrew texts, but Luther 'Germanised' it by using words and similes that his congregation would be familiar with- translating by the 'sense' of the passage rather than the exact words.  This, presumably, is something the conservative Christians would not approve of, but provided it is well done it can often be a lot more helpful than a text which is word-for-word accurate, but where the sense of the words is lost (for example because it includes on Hebrew euphemisms that we no longer understand).

The conservative American Christians seem to believe that the older the text they are using is, the more reliable it is.  But as any historian will tell you that's not always the case.  Older texts often have more mistakes because they have been copied (or reprinted) more times, while newer translations have the advantage of advances in scholarship.  For example, since the KJV was made new manuscripts of some of the Biblical texts have come to light which have influenced scholars' opinions of what certain sections mean.  So in fact more recent translations, incorporating these finds, are probably more accurate to the original sense of the writers.

What about the supposed liberal bias?  Well, sometimes it just seems to boil down to verses they don't like or find awkward, which conservatives say can't possibly be authentic.*  Or to using a different meaning (where a word may be translated with more than one meaning) which suggests policies the conservatives dislike (eg socialism, feminism).  Perhaps I'm looking at this too much as a historian, but much of this perception of 'liberal bias' seems to me to be a result of some conservatives trying to fit the text to their beliefs, rather than their beliefs to the text.  That's a trap historians have often fallen into.

On the other hand, what these Christians have got right is the need to try to understand the Bible.  But we need to look at it in the light of what it meant to its original audience as well as to us, and as far as possible without bias, liberal or conservative.  Every translation of the Bible has a different 'slant:' some may be more faithful to the early texts than others, some use different words to make the text more easily understood.



*I am in no way intending to suggest that only conservatives do this kind of manipulation of the text, much of it is true just as much of all shades of Christian opinion.

Thursday 15 October 2009

Modern day Josephs?

I've been looking at the story of Joseph in Genesis lately.  It's a well-known story, so well-known it's tempting sometimes to mentally tune out, thinking that we already know all it has to teach us.  But today, looking at Joseph interpreting Pharoah's dreams, something  struck me in a different way.  The WordLive notes talked about how Joseph, having learnt through his experiences to trust God and give all credit to him, is then set up as second in command of all Egypt.


Not only is this a rapid rise for someone who had begun the day a prisoner, and who had come to Egypt as a slave, but it is interesting that Joseph was an outsider in Egyptian culture and politics.  His trust in the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob marked him out.  It marked him out as the only person who had any idea what Pharoah's dream was about, but also marked him out as the one who wanted to follow and act on what God had to say.


What I like is that Joseph, for all we think of him as a dreamer, a person focused on the spiritual, is also actually very practical, immediately coming up with a plan to store a fifth of Egypt's produce in the good years to distribute in the famine.  I wonder if perhaps he was hoping that Pharaoh might pick him when he talked about finding a "discerning and wise man?"  Probably he realised that this could be his only chance to get out of jail.


Whether he had himself in mind or not, Pharaoh is wise to pick him.  Not merely because it seems that Joseph is good at his job (his experience as Potiphar's administrator and in jail must have helped there) but because he is able to listen in to this mysterious God who helped him interpret the dream.  Joseph, a stranger and outsider, sheep farming nomad by birth, is put in charge of running the ancient world's superpower!  A person who worships some foreign God is to be second in command in a country where the king was seen as a god!


All a bit surprising, isn't it? Of course, we don't know what Joseph did, besides the rationing system.  But he certainly didn't hide himself away with whatever people also worshipped his God, and avoid any contact with government or those who worshipped the Egyptian deities or Pharaoh himself.  As the WordLive writer says,  "Joseph was able to implement righteous systems within an unrighteous society."     


Perhaps modern Christians should seek to do the same.  I don't mean trying to impose a theocracy or using the sort of language some American politicians are fond of to suggest our country is God's chosen land.  I mean that Christians should be willing to get involved in government at whatever level, and to seek to stand up for God's values of justice, righteousness, peace and love in a society that struggles with these things.  I know many people mock political leaders who display their faith, and I find it sad.  Because those values are the ones that most people would want in leaders, rather than corruption and hunger for power at any price.  We are in the world, and we can't be wholly removed from it.  We can't make it perfect, but we can make it better.


Oh, and you might find this interesting.  Thanks to Greg for drawing it to my attention.

Monday 12 October 2009

Yokes part 2- personal thoughts

This is a follow on to this post.  It isn't something I've written about before as it's a tricky subject and I don't want to offend any friends- Christian or not.  So please, don't either condemn me as a liberal or attack me as a religious weirdo without reading my reasoning and thinking about it.  Remember, I don't pretend to tell you that you should do what I do.  This is just my own thoughts on a subject I've thought about a fair bit, and I think I've seen enough from my experiences with friends to know what I'm talking about.


Possibly I'm protesting so strongly about the whole 'do not be yoked to unbelievers' thing for selfish reasons- because some of my closest friends aren't Christians. Perhaps I just want to avoid having to change something I'm happy with, or because of a hint of guilt. But this is something I've thought and prayed about a lot, and these are the conclusions I've come to.

I don't think Christians should avoid having friends who aren't Christians.  It's well known that most people who come to faith are introduced to it by a friend.  Hiving the church off from the world into some parallel universe of its' own making isn't being salt and light.  That's not what being distinctive means. 
I think it's a question of balance.  It isn't necessarily the relationship that's wrong, but the negative effect it can have on that person's faith.

I do have close friends who are not Christians. I know that in some things they different priorities and values from my own. That doesn't stop me being their friend. I respect where we differ on things, and rejoice where we agree, and if I can sensitively challenge someone to rethink where I believe they have got their priorities wrong, I try (and usually fail). Because as a friend they respect me too, they accept that, and perhaps reciprocate. My faith's strong enough to deal with that.

But I know that there is a big part of my life that a friend who's not a Christian can never share. They can't fully understand why I do everything I do, or what it means for me to be who I am, a child of God. They don't have the same priority in life- to praise God and serve him.  I have to remember that, and to watch and consider my actions to make sure they reflect that priority rather than those of the world around me.  That's how I can avoid becoming 'yoked' to anything that would distract me from my purpose- to follow Jesus. 

So what about the usual interpretation of "do not be yoked to unbelievers," the context of romantic relationships and marriage.  I suppose the key thing is whether or not forming such a relationship with a non-Christian is going to become something which prevents you getting closer to God.  I've seen couples where this kind of relationship has worked, and I'm happy for them.  But I've also seen couples where it hasn't worked, and has caused tension and a weakening of faith.  And my faith is such a massive part of who I am that I don't think I would feel right not being able to share it with my partner, or that it would be fair to them to make them conform to my priorities and principals when they don't share them.


That's my personal decision, based on what I've observed and experienced.  I don't say it's right or that it's what everyone should do.  Each person has to find their own limits and their own balance, to judge when something begins to get in the way of  their faith.  It's not always easy. Sometimes it seems like I'm taking risks that will cause me pain. Sometimes the fact that the people I'm close to don't understand or don't believe really hurts me. Sometimes I expect I get things wrong. For everyone, finding that balance is different, and maybe takes experimentation and mistakes. But that's ok. God sees our hearts, when we try to put him first in our lives, and forgives us.

Wednesday 7 October 2009

Grr!

I'm rather angry at the moment.  I'm not saying this is a good thing, although sometimes anger can be productive, but the reason I'm angry has drawn together several things that have come to my attention recently.

I don't have a car.  I often have to attend meetings in the evenings, where I'm usually the only person from my house travelling to the meeting.  Usually I'm quite happy to walk for half an hour or more to get to such a meeting, but when it's going to take me longer than that or the route would take me, in the dark, through areas I'd rather not go (ok, I know this is York and nowhere's that bad, but that's no reason to take risks) or if I don't know where I'm going I'd rather not.  Does that seem unreasonable?

Buses are awkward, especially if you're not sure exactly where you're going, aren't that cheap round here, and often take longer than walking if you're waiting for connections.  Taxis are expensive.  But I find that a lot of people who drive and have been doing so for ten or twenty years or more, forget that it might not be easy for you to get to the outer reaches of the city if you don't drive- and even more difficult to get back.

I think this is a mentality that needs to change if we're going to encourage less car use.  For example, I just asked someone for a lift to a meeting.  To pick me up they would have to come slightly out of their way, a detour of perhaps five minutes in a car, not more than ten.  They've picked me up several times before.  But this time, after I'd initially thought they'd agreed, I got a message back saying could I find someone else to pick me up if possible as it was out of their way.  However, my house is equally if not more out of everyone else's way.  So I'm left with the choice of begging someone else to come for me, or an hour's walk in the dark.

At this point I know someone is going to say 'cycle' but I don't feel that I am a safe or confident cyclist.  The same people would then no doubt give me lots of good advice and tell me to get on with it, but that's not my point.  My point is that people who are used to the convenience of a car too often forget that a) it is possible to not have a car, and to exist quite well for most purposes without it, and b) the difficulties that can sometimes arise from not having a car, for example disposing of rubbish the council won't collect like broken TV's.  It's similar to a point a friend of mine makes here; if you have something, it's hard for you to see what it's like not to have it, and you tend to assume people must be exaggerating or have something to fall back on.

Perhaps the solution lies in a better development of community with our friends and willingness to use what we have to help others.  In contrast to the above, I also have friends who will go out of their way (physically and metaphorically) to help those who need it- giving lifts and helping move things.  And I'm very grateful to them.  It's just a shame that not everyone thinks like that.

And while I was writing that, someone else (for whom it's just as much of a detour) has just offered me a lift.  Yay!

Monday 5 October 2009

Yokes part 1- general thoughts

"Do not be yoked together with unbelievers."  A verse that strikes fear and dread into the heart of many Christians, and probably many youth leaders and church leaders who have to speak on it or deal with it pastorally too.  But what does it actually mean to be 'yoked together with unbelievers'?  I'm used to the common interpretation which uses it to justify Christians only marrying or going out with other Christians, but something I read recently seemed to extend it to all close friendships too.  That was something I hesitated to accept, and which got me thinking. 

I've never been entirely comfortable with a blanket ban on all Christian- non-Christian relationships anyway.  What if you become a Christian after marrying someone, or going so far with them (emotionally or physically) that it seems wrong to pull back?  What if your partner appears to loose their faith- your dumping them is hardly going to help get them back on track, is it?  It may help you, but isn't that rather selfish?

And if this is to be extended to a ban on all close relationships with non-Christians, what does that mean, for instance, for relationships with family members who you may have grown up with, but who don't share your faith?  Surely the same God who decreed 'honour your father and mother' wouldn't want us to become estranged from them by following him?  God the Father wouldn't want us to abandon our children if they decide they don't want anything to do with church.  Of course, we are to put God first (Mark 10 vs 29-30) but that doesn't absolve us of earthly responsibility. 

Perhaps there are some clues in the verses surrounding this passage that can help us understand what I think Paul meant by writing it.  Paul, in the passages surrounding it, is talking about witnessing to those outside the church.  It's clear that you can't witness effectively to people unless you know something about them, unless you meet them where they are.  But it's also clear that if you are indistinguishable from them then you can't be an effective witness either.  We are called to be salt and light, to stand out from the crowd, not to go along with what they think is important but to praise God and put him first always. 

Oxen are yoked together.  Where one goes, the other has to go too.  If we are 'yoked' to unbelievers it means that we are forced to conform to their movements, to take their priorities as our own, to do as they do.  That means we can no longer stand out from the crowd, we can't put God first.  Very often we end up putting the person (or people, or values) we're yoked to first instead.  I don't think it's just about relationships, more a call to keep God first in our hearts and our priorities.  Friendships and relationships are one of the many things that can distract us from this, just as keeping to over-restrictive rules can, if we're not careful.  I think that holds true for relationships between Christians as well as between Christians and those who don't believe.


P.S. It's also been suggested that this passage says Christians shouldn't work with or for non-Christians. Now I don't know about you but that seems rather impractical- especially in an urban society- and rather isolationist, designed to create a closed community of the 'clean' and 'holy'. It's not exactly the sort of thing one would expect to come from the same Jesus who directly went to the outcasts and unclean of his society. I may be wrong, but I don't really think that's what the passage says. If you want more info on what it might be about, see here before going off on a "Christians/ the Bible are away with the fairies" rant.

Thursday 1 October 2009

Digital Gospel

Those who read my last post will know that last weekend I was away at a conference of Scripture Union, an organisation which resources and works with the church to help them reach out to the community, particularly among children and young people.  Over the last couple of years SU has felt a particular calling to investigate ways of using 'technology' (ie the internet) to do this, and a lot of money and effort has gone into digital projects like WordLive, designed to help individuals engage with the Bible; and LightLive, which provides resources for youth and children's leaders.

During one of the meetings one of the members of the council expressed a concern that these days technology moves on so fast that we could end up investing in something only to find that by the time it was complete it would already be obsolete.  For example, are books going to be made obsolete by ebooks?  Could something like GoogleWave render ways of communicating by email, skype and social networking sites useless?

I thought about this, and wondered if actually we should be concerned about something slightly different.  In the past, there was generally only one method of doing things- if you wanted to speak to someone you telephoned their landline, if you wanted to send them documents you used the postal system.  Today, there are many ways to communicate- you can speak to someone by landline or mobile, via skype, or send them a text message, IM or email, or send a message via a social networking site like Twitter.  If you want to share a document you can use the post, fax, email, or upload it to Google Docs where you can collaborate on it instantly.

Perhaps we can look at the entertainment market for an example of what communication might look like in the future.  When TV began to become widespread there were fears that it might kill off radio and cinema.  It didn't.  Radio and cinema changed the way they did things, but they survived.  VCR recorders and tapes have survived long past the introduction of DVD's because they possessed something DVD's didn't- the ability to record and wipe- and are only now being supplanted by DVD recorders and hard drive recorders.  DVD's are in turn under threat from BluRay, but are likely to be around for some time yet.

So rather than one thing directly replacing another, it seems to me that what we're looking at for the future is a multiplicity of methods of communication.  That presents a different kind of challenge, as we have to work out how to communicate in many ways without increasing the costs or risking decreasing quality by spreading ourselves too thinly.  The alternative is to risk loosing touch with many users by only focusing on one or two methods, and potentially being trapped into servicing a diminishing market share.

So perhaps there is a need for caution.  But it's also an opportunity to potentially reach new users and to develop new ways of getting the message across.  Being too cautious is risky too.

P.S.  If you have any thoughts on this subject, I really would be interested to hear them.