On Sunday night at church Jim, the preacher, spoke about some very similar issues to those I did in my last post: the shrinking of the church. He talked about some of the ways the church has tried to halt this, but concluded, somewhat gloomily, that although these had slowed the decline they had not stopped it.
This certainly wasn't all he talked about, but it was what stood out to me, and let me breathe a sigh of relief. It's not just me that feels like that, as if almost everything we do seems to be pointless, so much effort for so little 'harvest'. It's something I often find myself feeling down about- indeed, earlier that day I'd been worrying about it. Because however much I go on in my writings about evangelism being an integral part of our daily lives, about the way we live, about our character and the way we behave towards others, the terrible truth always lurks in the shadows, bugging me. I can't ignore it.
I've never seen anyone come to faith. Not just in the sense of being there at the time, but of being involved in the process at all. No one I know that isn't already a Christian even seems to be interested. Some friends I've prayed for for three, four, even five years without seeing any kind of change take place. And it can get me down, thinking how much they're missing out on, and make me feel like a failure, as if it's my fault, that I'm doing something wrong or am not doing something I should be. Even when I was helping run the Alpha course, one of the more successful ways of introducing Christianity to people, no one in either of my groups came to faith. (I should point out that people in other groups on the course did.) Some who had already made commitments increased their knowledge and understanding, others who hadn't also learnt things which made them think. But comparing my personal record (and I know one shouldn't really) to other people I know, it seems rather pathetic. What right have I got to say or write all this stuff when, even trying to put it into practice, I seem to be a pretty ineffective witness?
Of course, we don't know what effect our words or actions may have at some point in the future, but I find it hard to believe I can have made that much impression on people. The most I can claim is to have perhaps demonstrated to my friends that Christians are humans too, even if we are a bit odd at times! So the prudent course would be for me to shut up, to stop writing or talking about the subject. But I can't. It's a subject I feel strongly about. If it wasn't so important I wouldn't feel so bad that the people I care about aren't interested.
Jim the preacher went on to talk about how Moses spent a long time in the desert of Midian before embarking on his mission to free the Israelites from Egyptian slavery. Although he had wanted to help the Israelites earlier, his passionate killing of the Egyptian slave driver only led to him having to flee the country (see Exodus 2 v11-25). Jim's point was that we have to balance our passion with knowledge and understanding- of God's will, God's word and of other people. We need, as he said, a warm heart and a cool head. And also we need to be patient and wait for what God might be teaching us when it seems like we're getting nowhere, doing nothing useful. As Moses had to go through a period of learning (and calming down!) so sometimes God can be teaching us something- even if we don't have a clue what!- when it feels like nothing's happening. Maybe that's what's happening to me at the moment.
Wednesday, 7 January 2009
Monday, 5 January 2009
What makes you attractive?
How do you decide that someone is attractive? I'm far from calling myself an expert, but criteria might include someone you like (looks, personality etc) someone you feel is worth your interest, someone you feel you have a lot in common with.
How do you decide that a cause or an organisation is attractive, and worthy of your attention? Surely it's in much the same way (although physical looks probably don't come into it!). It's something you feel is worth committing time and money to, something you agree with.
What makes the Church (or Christianity, if you wish) attractive? What are the things about it that make us decide it's worthy of our attention, our commitment, our time and money? What makes it worthwhile? What is the church for?
I don't think this is a question many people within the church ask themselves. To them, the church is the church, it's what they do on Sunday mornings (or whenever). I don't think the question is exactly the same as "What are Christians for?" although it's related. So many churchgoers think the church is just there for them, and don't consider its wider mission in the world.
The early church was composed of groups (probably quite small) meeting in people's homes. They would meet, it seems, to worship and pray and learn from the scriptures and the Spirit about God. And largely that's what we still do in our churches today, I suppose. But back then, in the first century, the church was growing rapidly. Even though there was no support from the state, or an organised bureaucracy, even though they were often being persecuted, the church grew. The same is true today in places like China. But why? What made these groups of people attractive?
I don't know. Having grown up within the church I find it hard to imagine what it's like to view it from outside. If you're someone from outside with views, I'd like to know what you think. To be honest, with the kind of publicity the Western church gets (much of it, unfortunately, justified though unbalanced) I find it hard to see why anyone would find it attractive. For so long the church took it for granted that everyone was within it that it didn't have to worry about being attractive. So now, in an environment where most people are outside and not even interested, there's a problem. Why would anyone be interested in a bunch of elderly, out of touch, guitar (or organ pipe) wielding and above all bickering weirdos? So many people see the church as stuck in the past, advocating ideas that seem behind the times (such as being against sex before marriage, homosexuality, contraception, abortion, equality for women- the list goes on)*. What's attractive about that?
But turn that around...at its best the church is a community of people who have and abide by a set of values, standards which are more important to them than just saying "whatever I want is right." That, in our current culture, is radically different. It stands out. Maybe it would make the church attractive- if we can get the message across.
I read this on the WordLive site for 11th Dec last year: "I have a suspicion that the same thing God finds so detestable is the very thing that keeps many from finding faith in Jesus: a Church that seems so wrapped up in keeping up holy appearances that it forgets its mandate to promote justice and love its neighbours as itself." Alistair Metcalfe.
What about this mandate? Do we pay it much notice? Oh, maybe we buy fairtrade coffee, and pray for those who are persecuted, but do we actually see it as our mission to "promote justice"? Not just individually, but as a church. High-up churchmen and women tend to be criticised for speaking out against things which they consider wrong, but really, that's their job. Like Old Testament prophets the church has to speak out where she sees things being done which God hates. She cannot keep silent. Are we committed to a prophetic ministry? Do we support and encourage our leaders to take such steps? Do we pray for them to have the courage to speak out? Do we ourselves speak out when confronted with injustice at work, or among our friends?
Loving our neighbours is probably better done, yet while helping the homeless, the poor, the ill, is relatively widespread, does the church consider loving its neighbours in, say, the city (or parish) council? Or the local mosque? The council estate? The pub next door? Are our relationships (as an organisation) with these people loving and cooperative, or frustrated and confrontational? How can we serve these organisations without compromising our own values?
Our relationship with God should be at the heart of all the church does- not just our personal relationships, but corporately too. The nation of Israel made a covenant with God, and when they broke it the nation was punished, not just individuals. God wants us to work together- not just within our parish churches or circuits, but nationally and trans-denominationally as well. If the church is to transform the world- starting, but not stopping with ourselves- we need to work together.
And ultimately I think that's what people will find attractive: a community that does its best to love each other and to treat each other fairly, and that loves and treats outsiders fairly too. It's tough, but God's with us. Let's have a go.
Incidentally, does anyone else find it amusing (and perhaps revealing) that of the two highest people in the Church of England are both from outside it- Rowan of Canterbury is from the Church of Wales, Sentamu of York is from Uganda. I wonder what that says about the C of E?
* I'm neither criticising nor defending these things- here at least- just cataloguing some of the ways outsiders- the "unchurched" -see the church as out of touch.
How do you decide that a cause or an organisation is attractive, and worthy of your attention? Surely it's in much the same way (although physical looks probably don't come into it!). It's something you feel is worth committing time and money to, something you agree with.
What makes the Church (or Christianity, if you wish) attractive? What are the things about it that make us decide it's worthy of our attention, our commitment, our time and money? What makes it worthwhile? What is the church for?
I don't think this is a question many people within the church ask themselves. To them, the church is the church, it's what they do on Sunday mornings (or whenever). I don't think the question is exactly the same as "What are Christians for?" although it's related. So many churchgoers think the church is just there for them, and don't consider its wider mission in the world.
The early church was composed of groups (probably quite small) meeting in people's homes. They would meet, it seems, to worship and pray and learn from the scriptures and the Spirit about God. And largely that's what we still do in our churches today, I suppose. But back then, in the first century, the church was growing rapidly. Even though there was no support from the state, or an organised bureaucracy, even though they were often being persecuted, the church grew. The same is true today in places like China. But why? What made these groups of people attractive?
I don't know. Having grown up within the church I find it hard to imagine what it's like to view it from outside. If you're someone from outside with views, I'd like to know what you think. To be honest, with the kind of publicity the Western church gets (much of it, unfortunately, justified though unbalanced) I find it hard to see why anyone would find it attractive. For so long the church took it for granted that everyone was within it that it didn't have to worry about being attractive. So now, in an environment where most people are outside and not even interested, there's a problem. Why would anyone be interested in a bunch of elderly, out of touch, guitar (or organ pipe) wielding and above all bickering weirdos? So many people see the church as stuck in the past, advocating ideas that seem behind the times (such as being against sex before marriage, homosexuality, contraception, abortion, equality for women- the list goes on)*. What's attractive about that?
But turn that around...at its best the church is a community of people who have and abide by a set of values, standards which are more important to them than just saying "whatever I want is right." That, in our current culture, is radically different. It stands out. Maybe it would make the church attractive- if we can get the message across.
I read this on the WordLive site for 11th Dec last year: "I have a suspicion that the same thing God finds so detestable is the very thing that keeps many from finding faith in Jesus: a Church that seems so wrapped up in keeping up holy appearances that it forgets its mandate to promote justice and love its neighbours as itself." Alistair Metcalfe.
What about this mandate? Do we pay it much notice? Oh, maybe we buy fairtrade coffee, and pray for those who are persecuted, but do we actually see it as our mission to "promote justice"? Not just individually, but as a church. High-up churchmen and women tend to be criticised for speaking out against things which they consider wrong, but really, that's their job. Like Old Testament prophets the church has to speak out where she sees things being done which God hates. She cannot keep silent. Are we committed to a prophetic ministry? Do we support and encourage our leaders to take such steps? Do we pray for them to have the courage to speak out? Do we ourselves speak out when confronted with injustice at work, or among our friends?
Loving our neighbours is probably better done, yet while helping the homeless, the poor, the ill, is relatively widespread, does the church consider loving its neighbours in, say, the city (or parish) council? Or the local mosque? The council estate? The pub next door? Are our relationships (as an organisation) with these people loving and cooperative, or frustrated and confrontational? How can we serve these organisations without compromising our own values?
Our relationship with God should be at the heart of all the church does- not just our personal relationships, but corporately too. The nation of Israel made a covenant with God, and when they broke it the nation was punished, not just individuals. God wants us to work together- not just within our parish churches or circuits, but nationally and trans-denominationally as well. If the church is to transform the world- starting, but not stopping with ourselves- we need to work together.
And ultimately I think that's what people will find attractive: a community that does its best to love each other and to treat each other fairly, and that loves and treats outsiders fairly too. It's tough, but God's with us. Let's have a go.
Incidentally, does anyone else find it amusing (and perhaps revealing) that of the two highest people in the Church of England are both from outside it- Rowan of Canterbury is from the Church of Wales, Sentamu of York is from Uganda. I wonder what that says about the C of E?
* I'm neither criticising nor defending these things- here at least- just cataloguing some of the ways outsiders- the "unchurched" -see the church as out of touch.
Friday, 2 January 2009
The obligatory "New Year" post.
Welcome to 2009. How's it been for you so far? A lot like last year? Strange. What? You're thinking the new year is just another excuse for a party? Surely not! Lots of things have changed, like...er...like...the date.
Why do we love dividing time up? Is it just an excuse for a party? Is it so that by breaking it down into measurable and manageable chunks we can pretend that we can control Time, that fearsome and incomprehensible entity? "Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?" (Matt 6v27)
Is it so that we can breathe a sigh of relief that what may have been a problematic time is over, and vow to make a "fresh start?" Is it so that we can hope that "next year things will be better?"
2008 (and indeed the last month or so of 2007) wasn't the greatest year for me. There were good bits, and things I enjoyed, like spending time with my friends, singing in concerts and productions. But there were also disappointments- the fact that it rained nearly all my holidays, failures to get at decent job, being turned away from things I wanted to do because of people's opinions about me. There was confusion at times when I wasn't sure whether I was on the right track or what I should be doing about it. There were times when I've felt stuck in a rut, pigeon-holed by other people's opinions about who I am and unable to break out and do what I want, to use all my gifts, to live to my full potential. There were difficult relationships with other people, some breaking down for personal reasons while others were hard to keep up because of distance or busyness or lack of communication. I worried (and still do) about friends with their own problems, longing to help them but not having the words or the ways. Sometimes I felt so helpless as friends with health or emotional or employment struggles just couldn't see a way out. There were times when I just felt rubbish about myself, as if I wasn't worth anything, fed up that no matter what I tried to do, whether it was a job, singing or something at church there was always someone better than me, more qualified than me, more experienced than me. And I wasn't even able to feel angry that someone else had got a chance instead of me- because I knew they deserved it, and I didn't.
2008 feels like it's had more questions than answers, more calls to trust God than visible results of doing so. But I've still kept hold of that hope that someday things will be better, that the things I long for and pray for will happen (because some of them have). Life's on earth's never going to be perfect, I know. Especially the Christian life. Doing the right thing (in my case, what God wants) seems to mean in so many cases facing up to trouble, and yet not doing it ends up creating more trouble in the end. So in many ways I am hoping 2009 will be better. But most of all I'm hoping that I can keep trusting God, whatever happens, because I know he knows better than I do. A few answers would be nice! Sometimes I wonder if I'm missing something obvious...But ultimately "time is fleeting" and one day it'll all make sense. Until then I'll hold on to the hope that I have, because sometimes it's all I've got to hold on to.
Happy New Year to you all.
Why do we love dividing time up? Is it just an excuse for a party? Is it so that by breaking it down into measurable and manageable chunks we can pretend that we can control Time, that fearsome and incomprehensible entity? "Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?" (Matt 6v27)
Is it so that we can breathe a sigh of relief that what may have been a problematic time is over, and vow to make a "fresh start?" Is it so that we can hope that "next year things will be better?"
2008 (and indeed the last month or so of 2007) wasn't the greatest year for me. There were good bits, and things I enjoyed, like spending time with my friends, singing in concerts and productions. But there were also disappointments- the fact that it rained nearly all my holidays, failures to get at decent job, being turned away from things I wanted to do because of people's opinions about me. There was confusion at times when I wasn't sure whether I was on the right track or what I should be doing about it. There were times when I've felt stuck in a rut, pigeon-holed by other people's opinions about who I am and unable to break out and do what I want, to use all my gifts, to live to my full potential. There were difficult relationships with other people, some breaking down for personal reasons while others were hard to keep up because of distance or busyness or lack of communication. I worried (and still do) about friends with their own problems, longing to help them but not having the words or the ways. Sometimes I felt so helpless as friends with health or emotional or employment struggles just couldn't see a way out. There were times when I just felt rubbish about myself, as if I wasn't worth anything, fed up that no matter what I tried to do, whether it was a job, singing or something at church there was always someone better than me, more qualified than me, more experienced than me. And I wasn't even able to feel angry that someone else had got a chance instead of me- because I knew they deserved it, and I didn't.
2008 feels like it's had more questions than answers, more calls to trust God than visible results of doing so. But I've still kept hold of that hope that someday things will be better, that the things I long for and pray for will happen (because some of them have). Life's on earth's never going to be perfect, I know. Especially the Christian life. Doing the right thing (in my case, what God wants) seems to mean in so many cases facing up to trouble, and yet not doing it ends up creating more trouble in the end. So in many ways I am hoping 2009 will be better. But most of all I'm hoping that I can keep trusting God, whatever happens, because I know he knows better than I do. A few answers would be nice! Sometimes I wonder if I'm missing something obvious...But ultimately "time is fleeting" and one day it'll all make sense. Until then I'll hold on to the hope that I have, because sometimes it's all I've got to hold on to.
Happy New Year to you all.
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