And another one...

Two broadly positive posts in a week?  Never!  What, never?  Well, hardly ever...but see!

One point I'd like to add to hers is that it's not just the, to quote, 'sharey-sharey' nature of the new testament, but the care for the individual.  Jesus doesn't treat everyone the same.  People are treated according to their needs, to who they are.  For example, the man cured of leprosy (Mark 1, 40-45), a man who has been shunned and not been touched for years, is cured with a touch, and told to go and show himself to the priest so he can be accepted back into society.  The servant of a Roman centurion, a man used to commands being obeyed, is healed without Jesus needing to go near him to show that Jesus has authority, just like the centurion  (Matthew 8 5-13).  The government welfare plans, like so much government policy, are designed to reduce individuals and families' complex needs down to a siple, easy to administer formula.  Unfortunately a lot of people are likely to fall through the gaps because they have unusual or extreme needs that don't meet the formula, and low ranking officials won't have the time or the training to deal with them.  
  
It's the bishops job to tell people- and in this case the government- how to behave better, both in terms of welfare policy and perhaps in their dealings with banks.  While they have a voice in the Lords- and elsewhere, through the media- I hope they keep doing that.
 

Shock, horror!

 Sorry for the long absence.  However, I've been shocked on returning after reading this article.  Positive coverage of something religious communities are doing in national mainstream media?  Is that allowed?

On a more serious note, yay.  I wish I read as many of these sort of articles as the ones where someone who doesn't understand a religion or set of beliefs criticises those who believe, usually on grounds that something they believe isn't, from their point of view, rational.  A good, thoughtful piece is worth reading whether you  agree with their conclusions or not (perhaps especially not, it's good to be challenged to think about why you believe things).  But too often it boils down to one person bashing another's beliefs because they don't like their beliefs.  And one of the first things I learnt as a history student was to detect and be wary of writers who  base their arguments on their prejudices.  In history it often leads to conclusions that are later shown to be wrong.  I suspect a few journalists could do with learning that.

Reflections on 'the outsider'

I love my local library.  (Yes, we still have a library, although before long it won't have any staff.)  There was an exhibition there recently about York's refugee committe in the early to mid 20th century.  It was fascinating reading about the help given to refugees fleeing from Nazi Germany in the 1930's, about factory workers who couldn't have been paid all that much themselves contributing a few pence a week to pay for a child evacuated from Germany to be cared for and educated.

It made me wonder whether society's reaction today would be towards a similar crisis.  So often refugees, asylum seekers, illegal immigrants and legal migrant workers are all lumped together by the tabloid press as a seething mass of people 'coming over here taking our jobs and our houses and using our services.'   It can be hard to separate the different groups and the different issues.

Today, those who come here seeking safety from persecution or violence in their homelands face many difficulties once they manage to get here, from official forms and interviews to surviving on meagre resources in a land where they may not speak the language or know anyone, and where often the public are unwelcoming.  Despite the coalition government's pledge to end child detention for asylum seekers, too little has been done so far.  I wonder what the factory workers who helped pay for German children's keep would make of Yarl's Wood detention centre?

But one thing that encourages me when I read stories about refugees and asylum seekers is how often a church is involved, how often it is church members leading the fight against deportation for families and individuals who have been failed by the system. 

All through the Old Testament God encourages his people to care for the 'outsiders' living amongst them.  Although it's easy to loose sight of this amongst the passages commanding his people not to intermarry with the surrounding tribes (in an attempt to stop them drifting into worshipping the false gods of those tribes) there were always non-Israelites living amongst God's people.  Some, like the Moabite woman Ruth, even became ancestors of King David and ultimately of Jesus Christ.  Jesus himself showed his concern for those who were considered 'outsiders' in his society.  So it seems to me only right that the church should be active on behalf of those 'outsiders' to our society.

After all, if you had to leave Britain and ended up in a strange country, with no friends, little money and without knowing the language, wouldn't you hope someone would help you?

Faced with a furnace, how strong would your faith be?

I've never published any of my fiction writing on this blog, but today is going to be an exception.  Today WordLive, the Bible engagement site I use posed this question, based on Daniel 3: "Faced with a furnace, how strong would your faith be?"
Along with it was a picture, and perhaps it was that which made me think and engage a bit more than usual.  I ended up writing the story- if you can call it that- below from my thinking about that.  Maybe it'll help you think too.  Or not.  But here it is, anyway.

   She stared at the gaping orange mouth of the furnace.  Even at this distance she could feel the heat, and see it glowing red between the cracks in the wall.  
   She had always loved fire.  Fire gave warmth and light, it could be used to cook.  It gave life; it spoke of companionship and comfort.  But she was terrified of pain, and burning to death had seemed almost the worst deaths she could imagine.  So really, it was no surprise that she should face it now, the ultimate temptation.    She could not take her eyes off the glowing death before her, beautiful in its’ ferocity and destructive capability.
   She thought of the pain as the fire would catch on her clothes, her hair, her very self.  A strand of hair had fallen across her face, and with her hands tied she could not move it.  Her quick imagination thought of it catching light, of the flames licking their way up it towards her face, her eyes...she flinched from the mere thought.  She wondered how long it would take for her to be consumed, how long she would have to endure before the relief of unconsciousness and death would come?  The light alone was blinding, the heat enough to make breathing difficult.  
   Her faith faltered in the face of such terror.  She couldn’t go through with it.  She was alone, and afraid, and face to face not only with that terror without, but with her inner fear.  She didn’t feel that she mattered.  Why should He, the One above, bother to save her?  It wouldn’t make any difference to the world.  Why should He even bother to help her bear what she must go through?  She was just one little person who didn’t really matter.
   But that wasn’t the point, was it?  It wasn’t about who she was, but who He was.  She had been praying in her heart for courage and strenght from the moment she was brought in, and now her prayers stepped up a level, with almost incoherent urgency, begging her God to have mercy and not make her go through with this.
   The king interrupted her.  “Your last chance,” he said.  “Now you see what will happen to you if you refuse, will you bow down and worship as I command?”  She looked up at him, desperate, terrified.
   “No,” she said.  “I won’t do it.”
   “Throw her in,” he said.  A guard lifted her up, and quickly, unwilling to stay near the fire for too long, threw her, bound, into the heart of the flames, too scared even to scream, trying still to pray but unable to think anything clearer than, “Lord, help!”
 

Not the 95 Theses

It's Halloween-tide.  Or, alternatively, All Souls/ All Saints'.  It's also the anniversary of Martin Luther's posting of the 95 Theses against the sale of Indulgences and abuses in the Roman Catholic church in 1517, something which to me is rather more important than either of the other two festivals- well, I am a historian!  While it's not entirely correct to call it the start of the Reformation, or to say that before this the Church was entirely without merit, it was a significant action if only because of what came after, and has had a profound impact both on the Christian faith (what it means to be a Christian) and on world history and politics to this day.

So I thought I'd attempt to write some theses of my own.  Not that I expect them to have the impact of Luther's 95 (although I doubt he was expecting quite what he got...).  And I'm afraid that 95 would be too long for a modern blog audience's attention span.  So here's 9 and a bit.

Luther's theses were directed against abuses he saw as exploiting the poor and giving people a false idea of what God was all about.  That's something that gets my goat too so here's some ideas.  Theses such as Luther's were intended to be were less dogmatic statements of belief as propositions for discussion and comment so please bear that in mind.  Anyway, see what you think. 


1. Christian organisations should learn to put God's kingdom first in all their plans (not profit), and to have the priorities that God would want (care for the weak, acting in love).  Actions such as American Christian TV stations threatening local youth groups because they share the same name shouldn't happen.

2. Christians should learn to listen to each other and consider the other person's reasons before dismissing beliefs they consider backslidden and wrong.

3. Christians should not engage in 'political' manouverings against each other at the expense of those outside the church (or indeed within it) who can't see what all the fuss is about.

4.  Christians should be willing and able to defend themselves, reasonably but not aggressively, against the false claims and accusations of others.

5. Christians should not try to hide the fact that they are imperfect but to be honest about their failures.

6.  Christians should heed the advice of various new testament writers to 'live good lives among the pagans' and seek to be a group of people who are part of this world- but who outsiders can see are 'different' in a positive way.

7.  Christians should be willing to recognise the skills and talents of every member of their congrergations and to train and develop them.

8.  Christians should seek to be part of a community that cares for both its' members and those outside. 

9.  Christians should remember that love and justice are God's motives, and that they should be ours too and are good clues as to what God wants us to do in tricky situations.

9.5 Same as 9 above.  "For God so loved the world he gave his only Son that whoever believes in him shall not die but have eternal life."  Our motivation and our mission statement.

Can I take a moment of your time?

I really haven't posted enough lately.  I have been busy with many things, none of them fitting the both categories of a) interesting and b) suitable to blog about quickly.  So instead here's a quick reflection on something else.

It may just be my imagination, or a local or seasonal trend, but I think there have been more charity 'salespeople' about recently.  By salespeople I mean those people with clipboards who try to grab you in the street and talk at you until you give them money, or who go door-to-door doing the same thing.  The RSPCA have been particularly active in the area where I live lately.  Perhaps it's due to a downturn in donations due to the recession, or capitalising on public sympathy in the wake of the 'cat in a bin' news story. 

While I have every sympathy with charities (often very good causes) trying to encourage donations, I find these kind of activities quite annoying.  I don't want to be made to feel guilty for not giving money to sick rabbits when I'm in the middle of cooking tea or going to work.  Often the people who try to talk to you in the street adopt the technique (at least with younger people like me) of trying to mildly flirt with you to get your attention.  The (young) male canvassers aim for the women, the women for men.  I wouldn't feel comfortable with that behaviour from a stranger normally, why should it encourage me to talk about charitable giving?  But often it's hard to get them to take 'no' for an answer, and they make you feel rude for ignoring them.
 
I do give to charity.  But I like to choose for myself, not to be pressured into it by strangers on my doorstep or trying to distract me when I'm in a hurry.  I'm sure their causes are very worthy ones, but so are many others.  Which I give to is my choice, and pressure is going to make me less likely to give, not more.  There's a difficult balance to be achieved, from the charity's point of view, because while too much nagging can put people off; without sufficient publicity people won't know about the charity or it's cause, and won't give either.

It struck me that actually there's an analogy to be drawn with the way the church- or parts of it- often do evangelism.  Perhaps for some people the pushy, in-your-face style of proclaiming the gospel and forcing people to listen to it whether they like it or not works, as it must do for some charities and their donors.  I imagine, though, most people have a similar reaction to me with the charity canvassers.  That's what I've gathered over years of trying to talk to friends about faith.  Being continually badgered about something when you don't want to be makes you less inclined to think about it, creates a resentment that then needs more work to be overcome. 

That's not to say we shouldn't be talking about our faith, shouldn't be making the gospel public.  But Jesus, we're told, doesn't force his way in to people's lives.  He wants to be invited.  We can't force people to open their doors to him, we can only encourage them to invite him in.  And constant nagging doesn't do that.  It's a difficult balance.

Signs and wonders- scary and weird?

When I'm talking with my friends about the church, I find I have to spend a lot of time trying to defend the church from accusations of weirdness.  Even discounting the odder forms of worship or evangelism that are around (I haven't yet forgotten an American evangelist earnestly insisting that bananas are proof of intelligent design because they're a convenient shape for our hands) it can be hard for those within the church to understand quite why those outside think they're so odd.

I'm not talking here about debates over ordaining women or gay people as bishops, which many outside the chuch don't understand, or about scandals like the current Catholic church and child abuse that are condemned by the overwhelming majority inside the church or out.  I mean the practices we within the church consider normal, or at least usual, but which are quite alien to those not in the club.

Take singing, for example.  I've grown up singing, like almost everyone within the church.  But how often does  your average person sing in public (outside church), once they've left school?  Unless they're in a choir, not very often.  So something so simple and so integral to the average churchgoer is actually likely to be quite alien to the general public. 

If we are already making people feel uncomfortable just by asking them to sing, how much odder some other aspects of church must seem!  Speaking in tongues for example.  Or praying for healing.   I've heard that there are fewer miracles in this part of the world than in (eg) Asia.  This is often put down to a lack of faith among Western churches and/ or communities, but I wonder if perhaps there's another explanation.  Such miracles, as seen in the New Testament, are 'signs' of the coming of God's kingdom- signs that God is working on earth through Jesus and his followers.  But in our society I don't know if they would have that effect on people who didn't already believe in the supernatural.  I'm suspect not.  So I wouldn't be surprised to see fewer miracles.  Perhaps we're shy of reporting those that do happen for fear of not being believed and being ridiculed. 

Perhaps we're guilty of over-dramatising our faith.  It is a life-changing experience, but God is interested in the small minutiae of our daily lives, not just the big things.  Perhaps we don't even recognise some of the small miracles and answers to prayer because we're taught to look big.  When the miraculous or supernatural are taking place it doesn't have to feel weird or even special.  Sometimes people fall over or injuries are physically healed, but often- mostly- no one except you will notice that God is present.  Present through a picture, the words of a song, a feeling, a sense, through a hug or the words of a friend- even one who doesn't believe.  God works in each of us in different ways.  He challenges us, yes, but he doesn't want to scare us.  His love touches the world in many ways to do many things.  It's right to make that known.  But let's not scare people by it if we can help it.

Synod's choice

I'm trying to summon up enough enthusiasm to write about last weekend's Church of England synod and what their decisions about ordaining women as bishops mean.  But in a way everything seems to have been said.  The synod have probably made the best of a not terribly good job, and decided to risk offending traditionalists so much that they leave the C of E, in return for giving women bishops, when they finally appear, the same status as men.

Of course it will be very sad if this decision causes people to leave the church.  Jesus taught us to pray for unity among Christians, and it's hard to be unified- or even to pray for unity- when you are caught up in a bitter struggle the meaning of Biblical texts.  Perhaps, some say, we should compromise for the sake of unity- that both sides should compromise as far as they can, out of love for each other and for God, out of grace, to prevent a damaging split.  That, if I am correct, is what the amendment proposed by the archbishops of Canterbury and York was an attempt to do, an attempt to salve the consciences of those who feel they cannot submit to a woman's authority; so that while those in favour would accept that another, male, bishop would care for the traditionalists, the traditionalists would recognise the validity of women bishops in principal.

But there are other considerations.  It has been said, with much truth, that the church exists for the benefit of non-members (admittedly it often doesn't seem like that's the case!).  Obviously a an organisation that is constantly arguing with itself isn't showing a very good image to outsiders.  But then neither is an organisation that, from most outsiders and indeed most insiders' point of view, is still practicing sexism. 

Obviously I'm not saying that the church (any church, not just the C of E) should just give in to society's pressures and accept society's values.  That would leave us with no integrity.  But if we want the church to be an active, outward looking community, we need to show that every member is valued.  That means weighing up the choice of offending some of your membership, or looking increasingly old fashioned, irrelevant and unpalatable to those outside (and a large number within).  It's not a choice to make lightly, or without much prayer, and I think synod have been thinking and praying about this for a long time.  No one should be going into that kind of debate wanting to cause trouble or make things nasty, any sort of split should cause sorrow on both sides.  But perhaps to agree to disagree, and not to rule out the possibility of working together in the future, is a better solution than to continue to argue, which can be more divisive.

Of course, probably a better option is to accept, gracefully, the arrangements that the synod has agreed on. But given that the media much prefer a story about disagreement than about acceptance and co-operation, I doubt we'll hear so much about the parishes and people who do just that.  The church (perhaps because as a friend of mine said; "the more liberal people are, the more likely they are to feel the opposition should have a say, and less likely to make absolutist remarks.") isn't great at presenting the positive story.  But I look forward to when the first women bishops are ordained, and hope that it will be celebrated as the milestone it deserves to be.

This joyful Eastertide

It's nearly Easter again.  I like Easter for many reasons.  For a start, a few days off is always welcome, and it seems a long time since the Christmas break.  Also things seem less rushed that at Christmas- you feel under less obligation to visit every relative you possibly can in a week and to go back to work feeling tired and full of turkey- probably you've enjoyed the Christmas season, but part of you is glad to get back to normal routine.

There's less pressure surrounding Easter, fewer expectations, less hype.  I find it easier to celebrate the Easter season for its' own sake, for the meaning behind it, than I do at Christmas.  That's not to criticize Christmas- in many ways it's a festival I love celebrating.  But there's something to be said for the more relaxed way of celebrating that is demonstrated at Easter.  And of course the weather's usually nicer at Easter- three years ago I remembe having a barbecue and egg hunt in a friend's garden on Easter Sunday. The following year, however, it snowed!

You might not realise it from popular culture, but Easter is at least as important as Christmas in the Christian calendar.  Some reasons why I think it's not so popular I've already talked about on this blog.  While at Christmas we think in wonder of the powerful God, huge beyond our imaginations, who chose to become a vulnerable, dependent baby born to a poor woman in a strange town, at Easter the mystery is different.  And humanity doesn't come out of it so well.

On Good Friday we think in wonder about how God's son allowed himself to be tortured and killed by us, the people he created.  It's the second part of the mystery of God becoming one of us that we celebrate at Christmas.  Saturday is a day of anticipation and waiting, of thinking of how the disciples, the men and women who had followed Jesus, must have felt when he had gone and they were alone. 

And then on Easter Sunday we think about the greatest miracle- that Jesus rose from the dead.  We praise him for defeating death, for providing a way for us to get rid of the consequences of our selfishness and all the times we put ourselves before God.  It's a time for joy and celebration.  It always seems a shame to me that there are very few Easter 'carols' and that singing (in public, in services, in schools) isn't as common as at Christmas.  There are Easter hymns, but they're nowhere near as well known as their Christmas counterparts.  I expect the Victorians are to blame somehow.

So I'm looking forward to Easter.  I've been struggling a bit with my faith and things lately.  Christmas wasn't a relaxing time for me, and a few days now where I can focus on God- and in fact on my own needs, rather than trying to push myself to the side as I think and worry and pray about other people.  I find it quite hard to pray for myself.  Maybe this Easter I'll get a chance to work on that- as long as I don't get bogged down into feeling lonely as most of my friends celebrate time off with their partners or go back to their parents.  

But most important of all, Easter is a chance to focus on praising God.  Maybe this year I'll make it to the sunrise service at church, or maybe I won't.  But I will spend some time trying to focus on God, praising him for the most awesome moment in history- the time when he gave himself to rescue us and shatter the power of our selfishness.

Looking outward

It's my opinion that as Christians we should be looking out more than we look in.  We have to connect with the world around us- the world of people outside the Church, who don't share our beliefs.  So I've always tried to make sure I don't get so caught up in church stuff that I loose all meaningful contact with those outside the church.  At the moment I'm fortunate enough to have some great friends, most of whom don't share my beliefs.  But sometimes I struggle because the assurances I have about my Christian friends just aren't there for my friends who aren't Christians.

This is something that's struck me over the last few days through WordLive readings.  Today's was about grieving.  For a Christian who believes that death is not the end, illness and death, though still unpleasant because of the pain and sense of loss, aren't quite as fearful as they could be.  There is hope beyond death.  And so, the notes say, we should grieve differently, because we are comforted by this hope.

All that is true.  But what if the person we're grieving for- a friend or family member- doesn't know God?  In a way that makes it even harder for a Christian to grieve, makes it something to be feared all the more.  Christianity is certainly not a soft option in that circumstance.

This is a problem I keep coming across when I'm praying for my friends.  Praying for myself, I know about all the promises that God will care for his people, will answer their prayers, that we shouldn't worry because he will provide what we need.  And I know- although sometimes I forget- that this is true, that whenever I have really been struggling either through lack of money, worries about housing, or not having a job, or when I've been feeling really down and hopeless, lonely and worthless- God has provided for me.  Maybe he's not given me what I want- the perfect job/ sufficient money not to have to be careful/ complete freedom from feeling rubbish, but he has given me what I need- enough money, somewhere to live, friends to sympathise and cheer me up.

But when I see my friends in need- through illness, or unemployment, or stress- I don't have those assurances.  When I pray for myself, I know that however much I struggle, in the end things will have worked out according to God's plan.  The journey may be hard, but I know I will reach the destination in the end.  There will be a good ending.  But with my friends I don't know that this will happen- that everything will be all right in the end.  I know God loves them- but since they don't care about him, do promises like Matthew 6 vs 25-34 -"But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well" -apply to them?  They are promises given to God's children.  And will they allow God to help them, or reject what he might want to do to help them out of a desire for independence?  

That doesn't stop me praying for them, though.  Because there's also the promise that God answers prayer, not in the way I always want or expect, but in his much better way, seen from his perspective outside space and time.  Perhaps I should be sure that God will answer my prayers to help my friends.  I know that he has their- as well as my- best interests at heart.  Perhaps what I want isn't the best or right thing for them- perhaps what God does or doesn't do to help them would be better.  I don't know.  But I trust that God does.  

And yet I often spend more time worrying about my friends' well being than about my own.  Perhaps that's taking looking outward to the extreme.  And yet perhaps that's better than not caring.

Why, God? Trust.

I wrote earlier about some of my thoughts on suffering and why it happens.  It's such a big topic that even two posts doesn't do it justice.  But here's some more thoughts.

How do you explain natural disasters, things that just 'happen?'  Are they the result of choices too?  How?  Earthquakes and volcanoes, floods and hurricanes are all the result of living on a dynamic world- plate tectonics and weather are essential for life to exist.  But if God is all powerful, why did he design a world like this, with what you might consider a built-in flaw?  Couldn't he have done it some other way?

Then there's the idea that the world has to include bad things and suffering for us to know what is good, to know right and wrong - that there has to be bad for there to be good.  I suppose there is some merit in that, but it doesn't really answer the question.  Why would anyone design a world like that, if they cared about the people in it?  

So the biggest question is still why, if God cares about the world, he allows suffering to happen?  I think possibly the only answer is what we can learn from what God does about suffering.  He, as Jesus, came to Earth as a baby born to a poor family.  He went into the desert to suffer hunger and thirst.  He was criticised by the authorities, betrayed by his friend, beaten and mocked and finally killed in an incredibly cruel manner.  No one can say that God hasn't shared our sufferings.

I don't agree with the view of a God who just makes the world, winds the 'clockwork,'sets it running and sits back to watch.  The God I believe in didn't.  He stepped in to deal with the problem of suffering.  Couldn't he have done it another way, that didn't involve suffering himself?  I don't know.  But he chose to do it that way, to suffer with us, as one of us.

So the real answer to the question is that I don't know exactly why there has to be suffering.  But I trust that if there is suffering in the world, it must be there for a reason, even if it's not one I can understand.  And I don't believe that God is cruel and enjoys watching our suffering.  Otherwise why would he give the life of his own son, who he says he loves, to try to sort the problem out?

The answer I give is that I trust God.  Not blind, unthinking trust, I think about it a lot.  Why do I trust God?  Because I believe he is trustworthy, from my own experience and that of others, and from the Bible.*  So my response to suffering is similar to that of the clergyman mentioned in the BBC article: to pray.  To tell God that I don't understand, and to ask for his reassurance.  And to ask for him to intervene in the world to alleviate the suffering.

As a footnote to this, see this WordLive session on the last plague on the Egyptians.

*To go into further detail on this would be opening up a whole other can of worms.  Later!

Why, God? Choices.

The terrible, disastrous earthquake in Haiti is much on people's minds at the moment.  And inevitably, when confronted with a situation like this the question of suffering arises again.  Why, people ask Christians, why does this God who you say is all powerful and loving, allow that to happen?  If he's all powerful he could stop it, if he was loving he'd want to stop it, so why doesn't he?  

The short and most honest answer is, we don't know.  We can come up with answers, but they all seem to leave me feeling not completely satisfied.  The BBC published an article where a philosopher addresses the arguments.  I think it's actually a decent summary of the arguments.  While I don't agree with his views on some of them, I think it's a good statement of how many people feel, and useful for the rest of us to understand that.  

I do believe in an all loving, all powerful, all knowing God.  But I do sometimes find that hard to reconcile with the world around us.  As well as the Haitian earthquake, several people I know are having to cope with the illness or death of family members at the moment.  I can understand that idea that suffering is often the result of people's choices- that someone who chooses to smoke might suffer ill health as a result, for example- but what about the people around them who suffer because of their choice, having to deal with their illness and perhaps being ill themselves as a result of passive smoke?  And then how do you explain natural disasters, things that just 'happen?' 

First there's the question of people's choices causing suffering.  It's a very simplistic view, echoed in Old Testament ideas (for example Job's friends assume he's having a bad time because he's sinned) but it's clear that it's not always the reason for suffering (Job hasn't sinned).  Those people who say whole nations are to blame for a natural disaster because of a supposed event in their past are on very dangerous ground and should probably keep their mouths firmly shut.  

That's not to say it's always wrong, though.  As in the example of the smoker above, our choices do have an effect on our lives.  Some actions bring their own consequence- like, for example, choosing to mess around on an icy path in shoes with no grip.  If you fall over and hurt yourself, that's probably your own fault.  If you make someone else fall over, that's your fault too, caused by your choice, even if they don't deserve it.

But, people ask, couldn't God have made people who didn't choose to do the wrong thing sometimes?  Well no, I don't think he could.  God made people to love him.  You can't force someone to love you, you can only invite it.  So they had to have a choice- to love God, to know him, to obey his will, or not.  If not, then they often end up hurting themselves and others, because the world is designed to work God's way.  And the road isn't smooth for those people who do love God and try to obey him- we make mistakes, other people trip us up because they are not going God's way.  Humanity's choice on a daily basis not to follow God means we all suffer.  

People are not good or bad.  They're just people, who sometimes do bad things and sometimes do good things, for many reasons.  I don't think you need to be godly to be a good, moral person.  As a wise old woman* said: "It's which way you face that matters."  It's our ability to choose that makes us human.  Without that we wouldn't be what we were made to be- people who choose to love God.

That's some of my thinking.  More later.

*Granny Weatherwax in Terry Pratchett's Witches Abroad.  

Which is the bigger crime?

You may remember hearing this story just before Christmas- the vicar who advised people to shoplift if they didn't have any money.  It was a story that caught my attention, and indeed that of both local and national media.  But the controversial advice to people in dire need to shoplift was not the only thing that caught my eye.

I don't like it when a statement such as "My advice is to shoplift" is taken out of context.  So often it's done to make a small point seem like a big one.  So I was glad when someone later pointed me in the direction of the text of his sermon.  And sure enough, the advice to shoplift isn't the main point he was trying to make.  Most shoplifters probably don't fall into the category of the very poorest, but are real criminals who wouldn't pay even if they could.  That's not what the vicar is talking about here.

This is the words of a vicar who knows what life is actually like for people on the edge.  The various agencies he quotes as being involved in people getting to the stage of having nothing (probation, social services, benefit handlers) have all denied that there is a problem, but anyone who's had to deal with them knows there is.  A friend of mine has had her benefits cut by the job centre because of a small mistake, other people I know have been threatened that they have to pay back money they've never received.  And delays in processing claims are not unusual- another friend had big problems with their landlord because of a delay and complications in processing a claim.  Life is just not as well ordered or predictable as the people who designed the benefit system seem to think.  Like most systems, I imagine it was designed by people who never had to use it.

So I think it's good that this vicar is being realistic, and that he understands the problems people face, and is trying to get his congregation to understand and to do something about them too.  I think what he's doing in saying people should shoplift from supermarkets is using controversy and extremes to shock people into paying attention.  And it's worked- probably more than he intended.  Sadly I think the controversy has taken away from what he is trying to say- that there are people whom our society has failed, and that we should be doing something about- that it is our duty, as Christians, to carry on the work of the God who came to Earth to live and work among the poor and sick, to promise them healing and life.

Of course I don't think shoplifting is right.  Neither, I'm sure, does he.  But when you consider how much supermarkets and such places throw away, isn't that as bit a crime?  And isn't our- and I do mean our, I'm not well off by any means but neither am I right at the bottom- attitude that is quite content to let these things happen an even worse crime?  And, well, he's right.  There are worse things people could be doing if they're that badly off than lifting a few tins of beans from Asda.  He's not encouraging shoplifting- if you read the whole sermon that's quite clear.  I don't think I would have said things the same way, but I agree on this- the fact that there are people are in this situation is a bigger problem than that they are shoplifting to make ends meet.

Advent 09- Jesus

I guess this was the obvious one that was going to come up at some point.  I want to thank God for the ultimate Christmas present, Jesus, his son.

A few weeks ago there was an event at my church where church members were asked to share what Christmas meant to them with visitors to the church.  I wasn't asked to be one of them, but if I had been I would probably have said something like this.

One of the names given to Jesus is Emmanuel, which means God with us.  That is perhaps what I find both wonderful and awe-inspiring about Christmas.  God's own son chose to come to earth and live a life like us, full of problems and issues.  No wonder the apostle Paul, wanting an example of how we should serve others and not take our status as God's children for granted, points us to Jesus Christ;

Who, being in very nature God,

did not consider equality with God something to be grasped,

but made himself nothing,

taking the very nature of a servant,

being made in human likeness.

And being found in appearance as a man,

he humbled himself,

and became obedient to death-

even death on a cross!*

Crucifixion was about the most horrifying, agonizing, humiliating death that humanity has ever misused its intelligence to devise.  The idea of God himself- for that's what the idea of the trinity tells us, that the fully human and fully divine Jesus suffered- going through this is something amazing, something which those who accuse God of  'child abuse' or of being unable to understand human suffering would do well to think about.  God knows what it is like to suffer.

And why did he go through all this?  Why suffer?  It wasn't just so he could empathise with our sufferings- though of course he does- but to save us.  And why?

Love.

Happy Christmas!


*Philippians 2, vs 6-8.  Probably one of the earliest recorded Christian hymns.

Advent 09- The Bible

A book that's sold more copies than even Harry Potter, yet vast numbers of those copies remain mostly unread. A book that's been argued over more than any other, which people have been banned from reading in many countries and at many times- even countries that profess to be Christian.  Probably the most translated book in the world- some language groups have even had to have alphabets invented so that it could be translated.  What book am I talking about?  The Bible.

Sadly it's also a book that probably more than any other has had bits of it misused and taken out of context.  The problems of translation also don't help.  But misuse of a text doesn't have to mean the text itself is to blame, or looses all validity.  Even if you don't believe the claims of Christians that the Bible is God's message to us, you can still respect it as a book that has had a tremendous impact on Western culture- both from its' content, and from the post-Reformation focus on the printed word.

But I do believe those claims.  I do believe that the Bible is a collection of books* given to us by God through the inspired writing of human individuals across several centuries to act as a guide and help book.  It tells us what our priorities should be:
"Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind and with all your strength,"
"Love your neighbour as yourself," Mark 12 v29-31
"And what does the LORD require of you?  To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God." Micah 6 v8
It gives us advice on how to do this, through practical teaching in Paul's letters and stories of how the early Israelite leaders did- or didn't- do the right thing.  It gives us reasons why and  examples how we should praise God.

And perhaps most importantly it tells us about God's big plan for his creation.  His plan that would bring back to him all people who believe in him, that would destroy the power of sin and death, our selfishness and disobedience.  It tells us how humans- all humans, represented by Adam and Eve**- turn away from God because we think we know better, but that he does not give up on us and works through first chosen individuals (Abraham, Moses) and later a whole nation (Israel) and its leaders (judges, kings) and prophets to bring this about, culminating in Jesus the Messiah, both God and human, who was born, lived, suffered and died and rose again in the compelling blow that freed us from our mistakes; and going on to tell us about how this good news was spread out through Jerusalem and Judea, and all the nations.  I think that's a Good Thing.  Do you?


*Talking about a book is actually misleading.  There are many books in the Bible, and several different styles, from poetry to history to prophecy to letters.  There are, however, no science textbooks!
**I think the Adam and Eve story is probably metaphorical.  If you think differently, fine.  It still works.

Advent 09- Harriers

I wrote a few days ago about Scripture Union, and how I'm thankful for what I've learnt from different parts of the organisation.  Probably the SU-related activity that had the biggest impact on me was Harriers.  Harriers is one of many activity holidays run by volunteers under the supervision of SU throughout the year, which mix activities with Bible teaching and discussion groups.  

Harriers is a sailing holiday for 14's-18's,* run on the Norfolk Broads in cabin yachts, some of which are over 70 years old and don't have engines, let alone fridges or electric light.  I was 15 when I first went, and although like any week when you're a teenager there are ups and downs, I had a fantastic time and really enjoyed it.  I'd never done any sailing but growing up reading about the adventures of the Swallows and Amazons and similar books I'd always wanted to learn, so it was almost the perfect holiday (now, if it could have included G&S as well...!).  

For a young Christian who wasn't used to having people of my own age who I could talk to about my faith, it was wonderful to be in an environment where I could do that, could share experiences and listen to other people's, where I could make friends who shared my faith and understood the problems Christian young people faced at school, at home, or elsewhere.  And I could learn about and discuss the things that that were never talked about in my church, because the people there weren't interested or because they simply weren't relevant for the elderly congregation.  It helped me see that Christianity isn't something old and dying and hopeless, but young and vibrant and full of life and love and the Holy Spirit.  It transformed my understanding of my faith, and helped me grow and learn far more than I would have without it.

Unsurprisingly, I went back the next year.  And the next, and the next.  After that, I went as a mate, a junior leader, for three years.  I enjoyed it too much to want to leave, and I wanted to help other young people get as much out of it as I had done.  It's several years now since I stopped going (not because I'd stopped enjoying it, but because there were other people who wanted to do what I'd done, and I wasn't an experienced enough sailor to move into senior leadership, not to mention having less holiday once I moved into the world of work beyond uni) but I still try to pray for those who are involved, and am grateful for those who gave up their time to make it possible for me.  I hope that when I was a leader I helped other young people enjoy the week as much as I did.  Definitely a Good Thing.

*Harriers A is for 14's-16's, Harriers B 16's-18's.  Ish.  There's also Kestrels A and B, which are much the same, but run at Easter when it's colder.  I only did Kestrels once.

Advent 09- Science and Technology

When Christians think about giving thanks to God or about his greatness, so often the images that come to mind are from nature- mountains, sunrise, oceans, autumn leaves, summer warmth.  And of course this isn't wrong, there's much biblical precedent especially in the psalms.

But now I want to give thanks for something different, for scientific and technological advancement.  And I don't think that's as incompatible as it first sounds.

It's all too easy to use technology as an example of humanity's own unaided achievement.  Popular culture and the media today are fond of using science and religion as two opposing systems of belief, or world views.  But that's a very different view from many of those who we see now as founders of modern science.  Early scientists who helped define the genre, such as Isaac Newton, were interested in discovering more about the world and how it worked and saw this as part of their worship of God- praising God for the intricacies of his creation.  I think that's still a very valid response to science- to consider the wonders of the world, and to let that lead us to praise of God (although I wouldn't say that it forces you to believe in a God).

And science and technology have, of course, made life better for humanity, with medical advances saving lives and improving many people's quality of life, while technology has made the world a much smaller place by helping us communicate and travel faster than our ancestors would have thought possible.  How have we done this?  By using that piece of tissue that scientists still struggle to understand: the human brain, another part of God's creation.

So it's not really down to us.  Not that I want to take away from the men and women who have made amazing discoveries or leaps forward.  But neither do I think we should scorn (as some Christians do) modern technology or medicine, because it is the product of humanity, not God.  It is through the intelligence that God has given that these advances have been made, and the products of them are (mostly) to be thankful for.  This does not, of course, absolve us from the responsibility to be good stewards of this planet that is our home.  We have to ensure that skills and technologies are used for good, not for bad.  But overall, I'm grateful for their existence.

Advent 09- Carols

I spent most of Saturday afternoon singing carols to raise money for charity at York station.  I love singing, and there really is something special about carols.  I've written about them here before.  It's hard to make carols sound bad.  Most people who've grown up in Britain know at least a few.  But having a choir singing in four-part harmony in the open air is something that we only expect to happen around Christmas.

A large group of us turned up on Saturday afternoon.  Most of us only knew a few of the others, most of us had never sung together before, let alone rehearsed the carols we were going to be singing.  Music was handed out, the organised who was conducting gave us our starting notes, and away we went.  And raised over £350.  The only downside is that the organiser wouldn't let us sopranos sing the descant harmonies in the last verses! :(

Most carols are in the category of songs which were written to tell a story, in this case the Christmas story, the story of how God sent his Son to earth as a human baby and why.  There's the familiar Once in royal David's city and Away in a manger which tell of his birth, to We three kings with its prophecies of who this child is and will grow up to be, or the less familiar Coventry Carol that tells of the sorrow of the mothers whose children were killed in King Herod's attempt to kill Jesus.  Others focus on what Jesus achieved: Hark! The herald-angels sing, for example, or all those songs which are some variation on a theme of holly and ivy, trying to spiritualise traditional decorations.

Perhaps that's part of what's special about carols.  The words and music help remind us of what actually happened at Christmas, and what an amazing story it is.  That God, usually worshipped with frankincense, should come to earth as a vulnerable human baby and go through all the ups and downs of life that we do; that he, a king deserving gifts of gold should be born to a poor family in a small rural settlement where his first visitors were outcast shepherds; that this child should grow up and give his life for us and be buried with myrrh only to rise again having defeated death- that's something to celebrate.  That's a Good Thing.

"Glorious now behold him arise

King, and God, and sacrifice,

Heaven sings Alleluia,

Alleluia the earth replies."*

The last verse of We three kings says it all.  

Advent 09- St Mike's

Appropriately for Sunday, my Advent list of Good Things reaches my church, St Michael le Belfrey.

Once again I'm not going to deny that St Mike's isn't a church that has problems, and sometimes gets things wrong (in my opinion).  But it's also a church that gets a lot right.  There is a real concern there for the message of God to be spread, and for people to be built up in their faith- as the church's strapline says, for people to be brought in, built up, and sent out.

As I said earlier I arrived in York as a student with a firm faith but big gaps in my knowledge of God, the biggest of which was probably regarding the Holy Spirit- what he does and how he works.  Over the years St Mike's has helped me fill this in- to recognise the times when God through the Holy Spirit has been working in my life, even before I knew that this was the case, and to recognise and learn how to use the gifts that I have been given through the Spirit.  Not that I'm going into charismatic gifts here, I'm still not as 'happy clappy' as many people at church, just because that's not my way of worshipping, not because I think it's right or wrong.  Different styles suit different people.

St Mike's helped me worship in a way I had rarely worshipped before, with songs that engaged the emotions as well as the intellect.  It also gave me Christian friends my own age, something I had longed for but never really experienced- people I could discuss things with know that the other person understood where I was coming from much more closely than anyone else.  It gave me an opportunity to get involved with serving the church and city community, to take part in events with hundreds of people rather than tens and be encouraged.  It gave me space to decide what kind of Christian I wanted to be, rather than simply going to the church of my parents.  It has had a big impact on me, and I am grateful I went there and to the leadership and congregation.

Advent 09- Cell

Next on my list of Good Things is one that's related to yesterday, the small groups and cells that I have been in.  This might need a bit of explanation- cells what many churches call small groups of people who meet together, usually each week, to worship God together, to study the Bible together and to pray for each other and encourage each other in living as a witness for Christ.  Small groups are the same, more or less.  When a group works well, it can be a great example of what the church should be like- a supportive, encouraging, open community.

Of course, this isn't always the way it works (see here for some of the problems I've had with cell in the past) but  it's still good to have that support of a group of people you can turn to when you need.  My first leadership role in the Christian Union was as  a small group leader, planning and leading Bible studies for a group of students in Langwith College that grew over the year from four or five on average to twelve or more.  When I left uni I joined a group from my church where most of the people were older and enjoyed getting a different point of view on things.  That group 'multiplied' to form two smaller groups after about six months, and now ours is having to stop meeting because several people have left, for one reason or another.  I hope to find another cell soon, hopefully with some people closer to my own age and experience.

Although each cell has a leader and assistant, the preparation and leading of each part of the meeting is split between the cell members, so everyone who wants to has a chance to develop their gifts, whether that's in leading an act of worship or a Bible study, or coordinating sharing prayers or planning a social.  That's one thing I like about these small groups- unlike so often in a big church setting, everyone has a chance to do something and to develop their skills.  That, as well as the support from other people and what you can learn from each other studying the Bible, makes small groups and cells a Good Thing, and I'm glad I've been involved in several.