A City Should Be Shining On A Hill

Its my turn to lead devotions at our deacons' meeting tonight - which basically means I have to spend sometime thinking and praying about the meeting, and about where the church is at the moment, and above all listening to God, so that when it comes to setting the direction and tone of the time of prayer before the meeting starts, I should be leading us in the way that He wants - to make sure that, from the very outset of the meeting, its about God's business, not ours.

So in this process, I've been thinking about mission, about missional living, and about the church (globally and here in Coventy) and its place in mission. And in particular, I've been thinking about this passage from Matthew 5:-

13 “You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.
14 “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. 15 Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. 16 In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.

Reading this got me thinking, about the different ways we as individuals and churches think about mission. And in that thinking I identified at least three different things we do, all of them not exactly ideal...

Commonly, we find churches who turn "mission" into "social action" - dealing with poverty issues, with equality issues, with health and social care issues, with any number of issues... any issues except for the lack of God in the lives of the people they are dealing with. Churches doing good deeds certainly, but how does this glorify the Heavenly Father if the "clients" never hear or see anything to do with Him, if their actions are no different from those of any secular (or other religious) aid agency?

Then you get the churches who believe that mission is about proclaiming the word, (usually in a loud confrontational manner, most often quoted from a old-fashioned translation, and very often using words like sin, hell, death, damnation, fire) - don't get me wrong, usually every word they yell is true, and it certainly attempts to address the spiritual needs of the listener (if anyone sticks around long enough to hear it) - but considering most of the people who hear probably think that "God" is just another swear word, how is this style of preaching going to connect with them, why should they even realise they need to engage with their Heavenly Father, let alone worship and adore him?

And of course, you get churches, and individuals, for whom mission is something of a dirty word - a messy, difficult job that someone's got to do, but its not going to be us. And to make sure we don't actually have to do it, we'll enable someone else - with prayer, with money, with resources -- but anything to avoid actually getting our own hands dirty in mission.

At our church over its life we've no doubt tried all of these (lets face it, when the church has been going for something close to 400 years then there's plenty of time for us to have got most things wrong at some point). But equally there have been times when we've got it right - when we've rolled up our sleeves, and got out there to deal with people where they are, and deal with the whole person, their spiritual, physical and emotional needs. Thats the model of mission that our Lord and Saviour used, the pattern we have to follow, the way to shine as a City on Hill, giving glory to our Heavenly Father.

So at our deacons meeting tonight, I'll be leading devotions in which we give thanks for our faithful witness and mission in the past, in which we confess the times we haven't got it right, and in which we look forward, with excitement, anticipation and longing, for the opportunities ahead to go about our Father's business.

Unless of course, I've got things wrong, and He leads me a different way by then.... !

I was born a child of Grace

“Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it” - Mark 10:15

I've been thinking a little bit about this verse recently, and what it really means to have a "childlike" faith. The problem is, the adjective "childlike" isn't often something we aspire to be -- it implies immaturity, naiviety, perhaps even inappropriateness. I don't know if its just me, but I've often struggled with the idea of a childlike faith when that appears to demand an unquestionning acceptance, perhaps even a need to "leave my brain at the door" when considering issues of faith and Christianity.

And then I look at my own children, who certainly don't accept anything unquestionningly! "Why, Daddy?", "Daddy, how does this work?", "What's this for Daddy?" are just three of the many questions that I hear, almost constantly, when I'm with my children. In their childlike ways they are looking at things they don't understand, trying to make sense of them, trying to understand based on what they already know, and when that proves inadequate, they go looking for someone who can answer their question - usually Mummy or Daddy, but when we let them down, they turn to the one who can always answer any question - Granny - but there's probably a whole other blog there!

Looking at things through their eyes, I can see a model of child like faith I can get to grips with, a way of looking at things with wonder, enthusiasm and excitement. Yes they have questions, but those questions are driven from a genuine desire to know more, to learn, to grow and understand, not from the all too common, cynical desire of adults to poke and prod and question until something falls apart.

They trust the answer they are given as well - when an "authority" does answer their questions, that answer is filed away and is believed - whereas we as adults struggle to accept anything we are told, preferring to believe our own intellect and our own "gut feeling" rather than taking what we are told and trusting.

But of course, there are times when the boys ask questions that cannot be answered, not in a way which is understandable and helpful to a seven year old and a three year old, and the answer has to be "thats not something you need to know at the moment". Do they accept that and move on - well, to be honest, not that well, but they accept it a lot better than we do when presented with a situation we don't understand, a time when our heavenly Father says to us "You don't need to understand that at the moment, just trust me to sort it out".

Thats the kind of childlike faith I want to have... I want to be a child of grace, who revels in my Father's wonderful ways, who approaches each new thing with excitement and anticipation, who tries, tries as hard as I can to really understand, but who accepts when he says, "Not now, Jon, leave that one to me!" Somehow I don't think being childlike is going to be that easy....

Leave a Bad Taste in Your Mouth...

Its election day here -- local elections that is -- and once again I'm left in a bit of a quandrary. To be blunt, I'm not really sure I have any respect at all for our national political leaders of any colour, and not a great deal for our local politicians, none of whom seem to be particularly focussed on genuine local issues, and who would rather use the opportunity to further push the noisy national agenda of their parent parties. Part of me just can't be bothered to vote. But then, if I don't bother to vote at all, if I disconnect entirely with the political process, then I might as well accept that I have no voice at all.

My favourite piece of political commentary comes from Douglas Adams, who wrote....

[An extraterrestrial robot and spaceship has just landed on earth. The robot steps out of the spaceship...]

"I come in peace," it said, adding after a long moment of further grinding, "take me to your Lizard."

Ford Prefect, of course, had an explanation for this, as he sat with Arthur and watched the nonstop frenetic news reports on television, none of which had anything to say other than to record that the thing had done this amount of damage which was valued at that amount of billions of pounds and had killed this totally other number of people, and then say it again, because the robot was doing nothing more than standing there, swaying very slightly, and emitting short incomprehensible error messages.

"It comes from a very ancient democracy, you see..."

"You mean, it comes from a world of lizards?"

"No," said Ford, who by this time was a little more rational and coherent than he had been, having finally had the coffee forced down him, "nothing so simple. Nothing anything like to straightforward. On its world, the people are people. The leaders are lizards. The people hate the lizards and the lizards rule the people."

"Odd," said Arthur, "I thought you said it was a democracy."

"I did," said ford. "It is."

"So," said Arthur, hoping he wasn't sounding ridiculously obtuse, "why don't the people get rid of the lizards?"

"It honestly doesn't occur to them," said Ford. "They've all got the vote, so they all pretty much assume that the government they've voted in more or less approximates to the government they want."

"You mean they actually vote for the lizards?"

"Oh yes," said Ford with a shrug, "of course."

"But," said Arthur, going for the big one again, "why?"

"Because if they didn't vote for a lizard," said Ford, "the wrong lizard might get in...."

I guess it often feels like I'm voting to make sure the wrong lizard doesn't get in, all the while not quite being sure who the right and wrong lizard actually is.... and I guess I will continue to struggle with that unless and until a candidate comes along who I can really truly believe in.

The problem is, of course, because those candidates are all human, all flawed, then none of them are ever going to live up to what I really want from a leader. Which is why my true hope is not in our nation or our government, not in any political leader of any persuasion, but in my Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ, the perfect, sinless Son of God, who, one day, is coming back to rule and will do so in perfect fairness, perfect justice and also in perfect love...

But until that day, I have a responsibility, as a Christian, to respect the authority that has been given to our elected officials, even when I disagree with them. To accept that, with all their flaws, their failings, their foibles and issues, its not my place to judge them. I have a responsibility to take part, prayerfully and gratefully in the political process, and above all, to pray for those elected, that they will make decisions which are just, and merciful and good, and which put the needs of the people above their own.

So, I will be voting today, even though to do so I'll be ignoring the slightly bitter taste in my mouth as I pick a lizard for the next few years...