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.

Balancing the personal and the corporate

The conflict (if I can call it that) between individual spirituality and organise religion has always interested me.  I know people who've struggled to find a church where they feel at home because they can't find one which fits in with their personal ideas.

Personal spirituality is much more fashionable at the moment than organised religion.  Particularly when people say that religion should be private, or restricted to the private, hidden parts of a practitioner's life; never spoken about with non-believers, never obvious or overpowering.  Although I don't agree that faith should be something we hide (that doesn't really fit with Jesus' commands to be 'witnesses,' does it?) I can understand the attraction of the personal vs organised debate.  In a way, evangelical revivals of the few hundred years even going back to the Reformations, have brought this about by concentrating on the believer's individual relationship with God rather than the church's.  Protestant doctrines playing up the role of the believer in searching out God for him or her self, through Bible reading and personal prayer, took over from Medieval ideas of finding salvation through the church and priesthood.  Spiritual movements, both Christian and from some other faiths, and cultural shifts, have only increased this tendancy to individualism over the last few decades. 

Organised religion, by contrast, is often today seen as foolish and deluded, as out of date, stuck in the past.  Sometimes, sadly, the institutions of the church or the behaviour of other branches of the church can seem more of a help than a hindrance to Christ's Great Commission.  We know this isn't how things should be, but changing this situation is fraught with difficulty and heartbreak for many.  But Paul's letters show us the importance the early followes of Jesus put on the church, the community of believers meeting to worship and to support one another, so we try to make it work, in our church, in our town, getting little recognition or encouragement. 

The paradox is that much research (and 'evangelism training') shows that it is very often the community of believers, the church, which helps bring people to a place where they find God.  Not always, of course; some people find God on their own, but many more come to church services or groups, go on Alpha or a similar course, or through friends willing to talk about and live out their faith. So although people will often say 'I'm fine with Jesus, it's the church I can't stand,' often it's the church which helps them understand what Jesus really meant. 

So how does the church respond?  How do we balance the importance of a personal relationship with Christ with our responsibilities and relationship to the body of Christ, the church?  I'm not sure I know.  As usual I suppose we just have to do our best and listen to God's guidance.  And trust he knows what he's doing.

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.

What did possibly go wrong.

I said I'd let you know.  What went wrong next was that a soloist had to drop out the day before the show due to illness.  But we coped, reallocated some solos and cut others.  The show went very well, at least from my point of view.  This Saturday we're taking it 'on tour' to Leeds with a reduced cast, so let's hope all goes well!

It still remains to be seen whether the 'Japanese Play' has escaped its' curse- although one principal did manage to hurt his knee and develop tonsillitis...let's hope that's the end of it!

Aside from that, it's not been the best week or two, with work being unpleasant and making me feel useless and no good for anything- if I can't even do a good job at my current job, what hope do I have of being any use in the sort of job I feel God might be calling me to?  But then why would he call me to something I couldn't do?  That makes no sense.

Various Bible verses tell us that we need to rely on God for our strength.  For example:

Trust in the LORD with all your heart       
and lean not on your own understanding

Proverbs 3, v5.

I guess that's something I needed to be reminded of.  And something I need to do.  God chooses to use his people to do his work, and he strengthens them as needed for his work.  So I hope he will strengthen me, and be able to use me.  Even though I don't feel that I'm worth using.

The modern day lion's den

Well, we have a new government.  Actually, unlike many people I don't think it's taken all that long since the election, I know that in some other countries it can take much longer.  And again unlike many people I think that since the election all the party leaders have acted properly, and come to a reasonable conclusion.  Whether or not the system that got them there is fair is another matter, but at the moment it's the one we've got to use.  While I would like to see a different system looked at, in this case I'm not sure it would have made a vast difference to the end result.  While there aspects of this government's policy that I really don't like, I can see that it could have been much worse.

But for now we have a government that under the current system can claim legitimacy.  Perhaps we don't like its' leaders, or its' policies.  But there is one thing that we can and should do, whether we like the government or not, and that is pray.  Pray that the politicians will have the best interests of the country at heart and will act for that motive, not for their own aggrandisement or enrichment.

Pray for Gordon Brown, stepping back from a difficult job and for his family, as they adjust to life outside number 10. 
Pray for David Cameron, taking on the responsibilities of leading the country, and  for his family, as they get used to living inside the goldfish bowl of 10 Downing Street.  Pray for the new cabinet members and government ministers as they settle in to their new roles.  Pray for Nick Clegg and the Lib Dems who probably weren't expecting as much to be taking their places round the cabinet table! 

Pray that the parties can work together for the good of the people of this country and beyond.  Pray for greater fairness of opportunity, in healthcare, in education, in employment.   Pray for those who influence the media.  Pray that the country will not get so caught up in fear of the future that they are unable to do anything in the present. 

Searching biblegateway.com for references to government, the passage that struck me was from Daniel, where Daniel's opponents tried to find anything to use to smear him, but were unable to.  Daniel 6 shows a court that's scarily reminiscent of modern politics.  "Finally these men said, "We will never find any basis for charges against this man Daniel unless it has something to do with the law of his God." (Daniel 6 verse 5).  Wouldn't it be great if we could say the same about our leaders?  You'll call me naive, I'm sure, but let's pray that our politicians are more like Daniel, and less like the jealous satraps.

Do I have a right to vote?

The BBC website today has an article on the effect of religious issues on people's voting.  While I thought the article itself  stated the situation pretty fairly, one of the comments by a member of the public below it struck me.

"Religion has no place in politics. If religion (of any kind) influences your vote, you should have your right to vote revoked."

Well then, my right to vote would have to be revoked.  But why should this be the case?  Other commentors cited examples of far-right American politics and the Middle East as examples of why religion and politics should be kept separate.  I can understand that.  And indeed the idea of people who vote one way or another just because they're told to, without considering for themselves, is something I intensely dislike.  Or voting for a candidate just because he or she professes faith, whether or not that's visible in their policies. 

But my beliefs do influence my vote.  Don't everybody's?  Whether you believe in a God or not, in deciding to vote for candidate A or party B in any election you decide based on your beliefs.  That might be something like believing that students shouldn't have to pay for tuition fees, that banning people from B&B's because of their sexuality is wrong, that people shouldn't be detained without trial. 

My political beliefs are influenced by my religious beliefs.  For example, there's plenty in the bible about caring for the stranger within your country, about helping the poor and families in distress.  So when I look at who to vote for I look at which candidate or party best reflects these teachings.  There's no one party in mainstream British politics at the moment who I agree with on every issue, but I prayerfully consider which I feel is closest to how I believe God would want people to live and the country to be run. 

That means Christians have to engage in politics, reading about and listening to candidates, asking questions, trying to see through the spin and publicity on all sides to what the party really believes, what their values are.  One of the saddest things I feel about politics is when parties seem to be willing to say or do anything to anything to get themselves elected, rather than standing for principals on an issue. 

Of course not all Christians agree on which party best reflects Christian values, because different Christian traditions see different parts of Christian teaching as more important than others and focus on those.  For example, one party might loose support from some Christians for focusing on helping people whatever their marital state or sexual orientation, while other Christians will support it for showing Christ's sacrificial, unconditional love to the community.  That's a matter of individual choice.

So yes, my faith does influence the way I vote.  But I don't see what's wrong with that, since I would hope that everyone votes on the basis of what they believe in (even if it's just that they believe 'the other lot' are wrong).  If you were to say that letting your belief affect your vote disqualifies you from voting, you'd be undermining the whole principal of democracy, surely?

PS I wrote on a similar subject last year, if you're interested. 

Easter responses: Thomas

It's my blog's second birthday!  So to celebrate, another post in my series on responses to Easter, this time thinking about the apostle Thomas.

Thomas is known as 'the doubter,' but is this really fair?  Although on several occassions in the gospels he is recorded as being cautious and possible sceptical about whether something really can or has happened he also makes one of the braver statements that came out of the apostles: "Let us go also, that we may die with him" (John 11, v16).  Jesus, against the advice and warnings of his friends that the religious establishment were out to get him, was determined to set out for Jerusalem and Bethany, knowing what was eventually in store for him and determined to obey his father's will.  Thomas is the one who voices the disciples' intention to stay with their teacher through thick and thin.  Perhaps it shows his trust that Jesus is the one who will save them. 

Of course, it didn't happen, and the disciples were scattered, frightened and ashamed.  The first news of the resurrection must have just confused them more, adding to the uncertainty they felt.  What were they to do now?  Were they safe?  Was they journey Jesus had led them on over?  Had he failed?

Then he appeared to them, and they believed.  He had not failed, he had risen.  Their doubts and fear were swallowed up in joy- for now.  But Thomas was not there, he missed it.  He remained sceptical.  Understandably, really.  How hard do you find it to believe that someone you have seen killed has risen from the dead?  Even if your friends tell you it's true?  If you are a Christian, think how hard you would find it to believe this if you weren't, and maybe you'll be a bit closer to understanding how hard some people find it to comprehend the resurrection.

"Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed."  We often think this reprove applies only to Thomas.  Yet the other disciples also believed because they had seen.  Surely it applies to them as much as to him. 

But Thomas and his doubt perhaps can help us see how Jesus responds today to those who have real doubts.   Perhaps those of us who already believe forget quite how hard it can be to accept the truth about Jesus for the first time.  Jesus sees that Thomas wants to believe, sees what is in the way of this belief- presumably his logical thinking that no one who was dead could be walking around alive*- and reaches out to him with a personal, even physical, response. 

Today a lot of people still struggle to accept that the gospel account of Jesus' death and resurrection can be true, struggle with thinking that it's not logical, that it doesn't make sense, that it is against reason.  And it is, except for one thing; that this is God we're dealing with, and God doesn't obey the same natural laws as the rest of us. But often- perhaps always- the only way for people to realise this, to overcome their logical reasons, is for God to step down into our world, as he did with Thomas, and meet them.  Maybe not a physical encounter like with Thomas, maybe through a sense, a feeling, an experience.  Maybe through a friend, a church service, a book, or a song.  Something that makes you realise God is there, and that he's real.  Perhaps you won't understand how it's real, but you'll know it is.



*Even though Thomas had presumable seen Lazarus raised from the dead.  The disciples seem to have had quite short memories- but then would you or I do any better in the trust stakes?  I don't think I would!

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.

Thinly-veiled fear of 'difference'?

The French government are debating whether to ban veils that cover the face, worn by some Muslim women, in public buildings.  As someone who's both a woman and person of faith (and a faith that isn't innocent when it comes to oppressing women) this is something I feel uncomfortable with.  I know that covering the face (head covering is a different issue, albeit one the French have already dabbled in, and something I suspect they'll go eventually further with if they carry the day on face covering) has roots in culture as much as in religion.  But I don't think that matters.

Women who wear the niquab (veil covering the face but not the eyes) and burka (which covers the whole face and body) in the West tend to do so out of choice.  Perhaps that choice is the result of the culture they grew up in, perhaps it is a genuine religious belief.  I don't feel I've got a right to tell them what to wear.  Especially I don't feel I have a right to tell them they can't wear something they believe they should.  I'm more inclined to defend their right to wear what they like.  Why should covering their face offend someone?

I understand the argument that wearing the veil limits and oppresses women.  But many, or most, women choose to wear it, not forced.  And even if some women are forced, how does banning them from facilities where they can get help help them?  Is it fair that these people are to be unable to claim benefits or get healthcare- doesn't that make them oppressed by the state?  If they feel they can't go outside because they can't cover up, I imagine some women will feel trapped in their homes.  How does that help them?

I don't like the idea that anyone can be deprived of services because of their beliefs (cultural or religious).  Majority may think it's ok, but for those who believe it's not, that's unfair.  I can't think offhand of a specific item of clothing or behaviour that is analogous with the veil or headscarf for Christians.  But if there was something I believed I should wear and the government were going to bring in a law forcing me not to wear it...I think I'd consider breaking the law.  I imagine that will happen with some French women too.

The French recommendations seem to fail to recognise that wearing the veil is for some women (I don't say all) a genuine religious choice, something which they feel they should do.  Perhaps it's partly fear of something different, something the older French generation don't understand.  Another commentator suggests they are lashing out against Muslims- and more generally, immigrants- in fear of terrorism.  If so, they're probably going to find it only makes things worse.

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.  

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.