One Life

Why the riots?

I've been dipping into some internet chat rooms discussing the London riots. Much robust and wide-ranging discussion about the root cause of these riots. Various opinions have been expressed about the extent to which the problem is due to the conditions people live in, or just plain simple yobbery. For me, going right to the heart of the matter causes me to think about the prowling monster in my own heart, looking for the right environment in which to emerge. Jesus put it like this. 'Then He said, "From within, out of people’s hearts, come evil thoughts, sexual immoralities, thefts, murders, adulteries, greed, evil actions, deceit, promiscuity, stinginess, blasphemy, pride, and foolishness. All these evil things come from within and defile a person. ” (Mark 7:20-23).' Ouch. Well that's my personal reaction reading those words. They lead me to ask a question about all the uncharitable (or worse) thoughts and imaginings I have towards other people and situations that annoy me. If I knew I could get away with it, what would I do? To what extent are we seeing through the riots in London, people living out what they think they can get away with. Looting and vandalism aren't secret inclinations in my heart. I have others, and you don't  want to know about them. By God's grace (and there are times when frankly nothing else would have been powerful enough), most of my stuff gets dealt with before it breaks out in action.  Personally, I don't buy the idea that smashing up that car (someone is probably paying for on a loan and who won't get back the full value on the insurance) is somehow the responsibility of someone other than the people kicking it in. I suspect the people who are losing their jobs because their employer's business has been burned to the ground won't be exonerating the arsonists and blaming the Government. The adults who have been giving bricks to children to through at the police will have a job saying they were driven to it by some 'root cause' in 'society'. Society is the sum total of our social interactions, and they all begin with what the old prophets called 'the inclinations of our hearts.' But that's not to say that we see in London and elsewhere is down to no other factors. As posters have perceptively pointed out, even where combustable materials exists (and humanity is full of it) wider factors contribute to combining these materials and giving them the spark which sets them alight. The Old Testament prophets were of the view that God passes verdicts on communities and nations as well as individuals. They were concerned with structural issues in society as well as individual attitudes. Various opinions have been expressed on what some of these may be. Government policies, spending cuts, our educational system, and family life. Or we could talk about the materialism that tells us we have to have what we want, and that 'smart' people will always find a way to get it. We can talk about the ingratitude that resents giving to people in other countries because we have poverty at home, even when those 'foreigners' would gladly swap a week of their poverty for a day of ours. We can talk about the collective indifference to social problems that we are content to leave to fester elsewhere so long as they don't encroach in 'my' community. Nimbyism is a powerful force for inertia. In all the millennia human beings have populated their planet, variations on these themes have come around again and again. None of them in themselves is an automatic trigger for social unrest, as others have noted by comparison with other countries who have endured and overcome far worse privations than we have in our lifetimes. On a personal and professional level I have worked with some of the most marginalised, damaged, and excluded people to have been born or who have landed in this country. I've seen what individuals can wilfully do it each other, and the condition that structural evil or plain bumbling incompetence can leave people in. Yes let's address structural inequality and seek to promote more benign social norms. I give a fair chunk of my own life to both issues. And let's celebrate and support the work of those who seek to do just that. But as we do, maybe it's worth reflecting on what's chewing at the end of the root of these issues. Because whilst we can calm the monster with a nice home and neighbourhood, gainful employment, the latest gadget or experience, or charm it for a while with appeals to altruism or compassion, the experience of the last couple of days reminds us that the monster is always there, waiting to emerge from our own personal depths when the temperature is right, and the most opportune moment comes around.

More thoughts on setting the debt clock to zero

I started writing an answer to John's question in response to the post Setting the debt clock to zero, but it got too long for a quick reply. So here's a more considered one.

The question John posed was:

'Cancelled debt through forgiveness is at the heart of the Christian good news. Of concern to me is the oft-encountered notion that Jesus paid the debt owed to God, as if a third party could somehow repay the moral debt of another. Any thoughts?'

Good question. So how would I answer that one? Can we really talk about moral debt as if it's some kind of commodity that one person can accumulate on behalf of someone else, let alone the consideration of whether the New Testament ever says that Jesus paid our debt.

Well I've a short answer and a longer one. My short answer would be to say that just as in Christ God was relating to humanity, so also Christ was, in himself, relating humanity to God. God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself, and in Christ the believer is crucified and buried and becomes the righteousness of God (amongst a whole host of other amazing results). Jesus offers himself to God not just as an individual man, or even just as the Son of God, but as the second Adam - he wraps up the whole of humanity in himself. So on that basis I would say that in Christ humanity pays its debt to God.

Mind you, if I only had 10 minutes on the street to explain the Gospel using this image I would probably say Jesus paid our debt without worrying too much about the niceties. Why am I OK with that? Well two general principles help me here.

First, the New Testament is far more concerned with the effect of of Jesus's life, death, and resurrection, and less interested in the mechanics. To take an example, Jesus describes his mission as payment of a ransom, but never says to whom the ransom is paid. To ask the question misses the point. The ransom image reminds us we are powerless to free ourselves and someone else needs to intervene. It also implies that bringing about that freedom will be costly for someone else. The cross shows how costly and for whom rather than to whom. That's the point of the image.

Secondly, it helps me to remember that the explanation of Jesus's ministry comes from missionaries rather than philosophers. Jesus taught his apostles to explain the faith more through compelling images, and affirming historical realities than propositions. Freedom is won, enemies are reconciled, slaves are freed, lost children find their way home, a sacrifice is made to end all sacrifices, the downtrodden and oppressed inherit riches beyond measure to name but a few. These images are a call to a new identity, a new lifestyle, a new orientation towards God, and immersion in a new community. They are based on historical realities that take effect first in the real lives we live now. Jesus lived a life among poor people, engaged with the issues of his day, died a vicious death, but now lives again in a real tangible, touchable body. They are to some extent designed to explain, but are more focused on bringing about a change of motivation. And yes, whilst repentance demands thought (it is a change if mind) it's one that leads to a change in action.

So let's go back to the ransom idea. Redemption doesn't mean I'm freed to do what I like, but rather that I have a new master. Only this master gives me the status of a son and becomes my Father. I don't go from one form of slavery to a more benign version of the same state. This is the freedom to be part of a new relationship, and a new community, that outside of Christ no freedman could ever imagine; it opens up a vast array of possibilities that a simple change of ownership could never begin to accommodate.

Some images are stronger on some of those aspects than others, none provides a complete picture within itself, and their variety helps us relate to different cultures. So I wouldn't talk to a Norwegian about debt (Norway has no national debt and living standards are universally high). Penal substitution (even when preached by missionaries who are wedded to it) makes little impact among the Japanese because their legal system, and ideas of dealing with criminality and maintaining social order are so different from Western cultures. The concept of sacrifice is alien in the west but still has powerful resonance in many third world cultures. Images of ransom, and of victory over oppressors may have far more impact in former communist bloc countries than the UK which has no national memory of invasion or oppression.

So there are my thoughts. Yours are welcome (!).

 

Setting the debt clock to zero

On 6th Avenue Manhattan there is a very unusual clock. Unlike most clocks it's neither round nor square, but rather rectangular. It needs to be a long rectuangular clock to accommodate the digits which tell, not the time, but the current state of the debt owed by the US Government - all $14 trillion dollars of it. The sum is mind boggling. And of course the debt dosen't remain static. Every minute the debt interest owed on it goes up, and up. Assuming reading this blog post will take you about 15 minutes, the US national debt will have gone up, in that short space of time, by around $40 million. What if someone could show the US Treasury how to eradicate the debt in a stroke? What a relief it would be to zero the clock.

Debt in some form or another is an issue for us all. The average UK personal debt is around £8,000.00 excluding mortgages. When you're in someone's debt you have transferred some of your freedom over to them - they have a hold over you, some kind of leverage

Debt is a powerful force, and a powerful image. It was one Jesus made significant use of. In his model prayer as recorded in Matthew's Gospel (chapter 6) he puts it at the heart of our communication with the Father. 'Forgive us our debts' he taught us to pray 'as we forgive those indebted to us.' In Chapter 18 of the same Gospel we have the record of one of his parables which develops the same theme. A servant - let's call him Kit - owes a phenomenal debt he can't repay and begs his master, the king no less,  not to sell him and his family into slavery as a way of paying it off. His master shows astonishing mercy by cancelling the debt completely.

Sadly, Kit's gratitude does not go any further than his own personal benefit. Having been freed from his own debt, he immediately seeks out a fellow servant - call him Vas - who owes by comparison, a small sum. Kit grabs the man by the throat and demands his money back "Pay me what you owe!". Ignoring pleas for mercy, Kit has Vas arrested an imprisoned until the debt is repaid.

The story goes from bad to worse. The king hears about Kit's behaviour and is appalled by his lack of mercy. Kit ends up in jail in the company of torturers. Vas ends up in prison. The king is disappointed.

Jesus told this parable to illustrate the difference between forgiveness and unforgiveness. When someone wrongs us, they are in our debt. If we forgive them and cancel the debt we are, in a sense, morally out of pocket. It can be a painful decision, but one that Jesus tells us in no uncetain terms that he expects us to make.

Put simply, forgiveness involves cancelling the debt. Unforgiveness involves  demanding the debt be repaid.

The amount of moral debt we are in to God is in its own way even more colossal than the entire debt owed by the US Government to its national and international creditors. It's simply unpayable, and goes up so fast by the second that we could never hope to clear it. Happily, one of the results of the cross is that by choosing to accept Jesus's verdict on our lives - that we are hopelessly in debt to God - and his offer of forgiveness, our debt is cancelled. The clock goes to zero. And how ever much further moral debt we run up before the Father, his fogiveness is more than enough to cover it. In the experience of such unfathomable mercy he expects us to extend the same attitude and cancel the debt of others.

That's not always easy. Some of the damage people do to us in life is profound, and takes time to work through. With some people I have to regularly make the decision to set their clock to zero.

Rob Bell in one of his Nooma vids encapsulates the essence of a sermon I think we must have both heard on this subject. Google 'Nooma 7 Luggage' and take 10 minutes out of your life to watch it. It's powerful stuff. I did a post in February last year summarising the same talk which I've reproduced below for convenience.

If you're reading this and someone comes to mind - someone you know is morally in your debt - have a think about how you might go about cancelling it. There's some great practical wisdom in the video and in the text below. And if someone won't cancel a debt they feel you owe them - a situation I can relate to - there's some really practical wisdom that will help you navigate that particular tricky stretch of water.

I've downloaded an ap on my Ipad - World Debt Clock - which gives me the current levels of national and personal debt in many of the world's leading economies. It reminds me of the astronomical mess I was in before Jesus offered to clear my slate. It puts a whole new perspective on the notion of keeping short accounts.

----------------------------------------------------------

I recently heard a good message on forgiveness - wise, challenging, and immensely practical. Main points.

Forgiveness is not forgetting. Some people are toxic, divisive, and dangerous. You can forgive and still set boundaries to protect yourself from repeated abuse. You can forgive and get a restraining order.

Forgiveness is not reconciliation. You can forgive, but the relationship may not be restored. Restoration is the objective and the ideal, but realistically it won't always happen.

Forgiveness is not necessarily protecting someone from the consequences of their actions. Reaping the consequences may be what's needed for them to change their ways.

Forgiveness is personal. You can't forgive an institution. You can only be free from the hurt and anger of your own experience by naming and forgiving the person and act that caused you the problem in the first place.

Forgiveness is a process. You may have years of patterns and habits to forgive. If today you stop plotting someone's mutilation and torture, that's progress. If tomorrow you fantasize less about their demise, that's a further step in the right direction. You sometime have to work through layers of pain, and phases of forgiveness.

Forgiveness, then, is dropping the desire for revenge. If you read the story of Samson in Judges 15 you see the effects of the desire for revenge. Samson reckons that because he's been badly treated himself (or feels he has) then that gives him the license to get his own back. Except in his case, he gets his own back with plenty of interest. The result is escalation. 

Revenge always inflames. It creates an inflated ego which says "..now I have the right to do to them what they did to me." Revenge is, you might say, relational 'Pong' (the electronic game cavemen played). "They called into question my integrity? I'll tell you stuff about them." Or "I'll teach you not to mess with me." There is also a passive revenge which celebrates when our enemies suffer. When we are unable to pray for our persecutors, we are essentially just waiting for them to be punished.

Forgiveness begins when you drop the jawbone.

From 1Peter 2:23  we see that Jesus so trusted in God's justice that he was able to give up a desire for revenge. Revenge, then, is a failure to trust yourself to God's justice. You want matters to be 'put right' in your way and your time. Paul's advice is to take a longer-term view, based on faith - do not repay evil for evil, leave room for God's proper ordering of the world in God's time. So forgiveness often starts with surrendering the right to revenge and trusting fundamentally in God's justice.

Finally, forgiveness is setting someone free.

Luke 23:34. On the cross, one of the last things Jesus does is think about forgiveness. To follow that example, I make this decision. The pain caused by injustice done to me, stops right here with me. Christ absorbed the pain so that it wouldn't stay in circulation. It dies here. Forgiveness is refusing to make 'them' pay for what they did. Not lashing out at someone when that's all you want to do is agony. It's a form of suffering. But by doing this you are absorbing the debt, taking its cost on yourself, rather than taking it out on the other person. It hurts terribly. Many would say that it feels like a kind of death.

But it's a death that leads to resurrection!

If I accept the pain, absorb it, end it here, this is Christ's pattern of forgiveness, and one that leads to resurrection.

The cross transforms pain from a destructive impulse to a transforming power. In accepting the cross Jesus not only absorbed the pain of unjust suffering, he opened a channel for the flow of God's redeeming love. We have the same choice.

God's thought police

Rob Bell, author of Velvet Elvis, has left the country. As the dust settles on his visit, time for some reflection. There's been plenty written about Rob's theology. I threw in my tuppence hap'ney in my last post. But what about how the debate was conducted? What does that say about some of the underlying attitudes that motivated the various comments? I asked for a view from my friend John de Jong. It's fair to say John and I are still in discussion on a number of issues. But that's exactly why I asked for his insights. If we only listen to people with whom we are always likely to agree, how on earth do we expect to learn anything of significance? Outside perspectives give you the opportunity to have a look at yourself and ask the questions you might be wanting to avoid. Read, reflect, ask. Thanks John.

 

Rob Bell’s book Love Wins has provoked a predictable (and somewhat tiresome) debate among Christians, with accusations of universalism, heresy, and the erosion of truth taking centre stage. (The idea that God might be nice seems to be a shock for many.) As I read the vitriolic comments it appears to me that a central issue remains unaddressed, and it concerns the heart of Christianity — truth. Joni Mitchell, in a rare moment of optimism back in 1969, sang: ‘We are stardust, we are golden,’ adding the disclaimer (which must have sounded somewhat hollow in the light of Vietnam) — ‘but we’ve got to get ourselves back to the garden.’ The problem is that there is no father with whom to walk in the cool of the day in the garden of nihilism, instead we find pessimists like Schopenhauer who pat you on the head and say: ‘There, there. Life is but a pimple on a sea of cosmic puss.’ Hardly the stuff that dreams are made of.

But I’m not here to critique nihilism: of more concern to me is the presence of an impostor walking in the Christian garden, claiming to be God. (He is not alone: it seems to me that philosophical pessimists and divine impostors seem, with perverse delight, to enjoy each other’s company and are walking with temerity in the garden with most believers seemingly unaware of the irony.) Who left the door of the garden open? This question — simple though it sounds — strikes at the core of the problem: it assumes a walled garden, or  (speaking plainly) it assumes truth is bounded, settled, verifiable —  a law that has passed onto the statute book. It is the naive act of encircling a very finite portion of the infinite and calling it ‘truth’ — ‘forgetting (as George MacDonald reminded us) that the more perfect a theory about the infinite, the surer it is to be wrong.’ In the act of reducing truth to mere dogma, I fear that we have excluded God from his own garden, and opened the door to impostors. How is this possible?

Two brief comments: first, concerning the myth that Christianity concerns what you believe as if — on entry to heaven — angels are standing there with clipboards to verify orthodoxy. (‘Did you believe in (a) infant baptism, or (b) adult baptism, or (c) the irrelevancy of baptism?’ Tick.) Is not the question more likely to be ‘are you a friend of Jesus?’ The response ‘I never knew you’ seems likely for many with a contractual approach to faith, who demand their ‘rights’ as Christians and constantly remind God of his promises and, yes, who feel it their duty to be God’s truth police forgetting that humility and servanthood are evidence of a true heart, not doctrinal purity.

Which brings me to my second point. It seems we live in an age when Christians have forgotten that ‘Christian’ means following Jesus (not believing in him — even demons do that), and just as Jesus is never static, so Christianity is a movement not a monument (after all, the first Christians were known as those who followed The Way). Have we forgotten that he is also the Truth? The problem is this: as soon as orthodoxy is defined in terms of circumscribed reductions of truth (however plausible), those who subscribe to this emasculated fragment of infinity feel it their duty to defend it. And W.H. Auden rightly observed: ‘those who believe it can be a duty to die for the truth can come all too easily to believe that it is also a duty to kill for it.’

Thus our peaceful faith is filled with those whose ‘teeth are spears and arrows, whose tongues are sharp swords’ (Psalm 57). Such ‘truth’, instead of being a prism for infinite beauty, becomes a prison, a bounded assertion, a walled garden where only thorns and briars grow, guarded not by edenic angels, but by god’s self-appointed truth police. The problem is, this god has a small ‘g’ and the police have forgotten there is back door.  

John de Jong

When love wins

I was reading this week in Christianity magazine about a web designer in West Yorkshire with the twitter account of @robbell. He's apparently been very concerned at the number of tweets he's been getting from mainly irate Christians, many accusing him of heresy. In one of his own tweets he asks 'Who is this @johnpiper and why is he denouncing me, did he not like a website I designed?'

Christian author (rather than web designer) Rob Bell's book, Love Wins has clearly caused a stir. Despite having, frankly too much to read already, I decided to download a copy. I don't regret it. It's a great book and I recommend you read it. I found it as moving as it was challenging as it was filled with some great insights. And I'll be reading it again. I agree absolutely with the book's main conclusion. Rob Bell believes that the God of the Old and New Testaments, the God who is ultimately revealed in the person of Jesus Christ is the most amazing, compelling, loving, consistent, and unfathomably wise person in the universe. This God is someone everyone needs to know. And if you decide to turn your back on him, you are making the biggest mistake you will ever make. And I mean 'ever'.

So what's the fuss all about? Surely most people who hold to the traditional teachings of the Christian church would agree with all this? Well the concerns people have with the book are, as far as I can see, around Christian truth and Christian mission. Rob Bell has been labelled what we call in the theological trade a universalist. Universalists believe that eventually, somewhere in eternity, everyone gets to heaven. And to many Christians that very suggestion is like a red rag to a bull.

Now if you believe in a loving God for whom nothing would be a greater joy than for all the people he has created to spend eternity with him, you might ask why universalism is a bad idea? In particular if you're not a Christian you might ask why anyone would want to believe anything else? Well it's a bad thing because it's wrong. And it's wrong about something that matters. Matters a lot in fact.

Think of it like this. God has planned an eternity he calls heaven. It's going to be full of people of different colours, nationalities, backgrounds, and cultures. For it to be a happy and successful community everyone who goes will want it to work, and God will need to know that they want it to work. Now let's say you're a racist. Let's say you seriously dislike people who are a different colour, speak with a different accent, or are from different communities. It's not unreasonable to suggest that God would not want you in heaven. More to the point, you wouldn't want to be there either. In fact, you'd hate it. So heaven must be full of people who have recognised all the rubbish that fills their lives, and have asked God to help them leave it at the door. As long as you want to hold onto it, there's no way in.

Rob Bell agrees with this. In fact the way he describes this is one of the most compelling aspects of the book. And for that reason he can't be labelled a universalist. Rob recognises that it's likely that a lot of people will never, ever, want to let go of their rubbish, whatever the consequences. And because God respects our choices, that's a decision he will never compel them to change.

And most Christians would agree with that as well. So far so good. But there is a problem. The problem (and where Rob and I will disagree) is around how many opportunities people get to put their rubbish down. Most evangelical Christians will say that in this life only do you get a chance to respond to God's grace by responding positively to his offer of salvation in Jesus Christ. Some would go a little further and suggest that, if you don't get a chance to hear the Gospel, God may accept you on the basis of how you follow your conscience. Either way it is only because Jesus has accepted in his own person the consequences of our rebellion against God, and offers to exchange our rubbish for his treasure that God accepts us.

Rob holds a view we might call 'post-mortem evangelism'. After death there is still hope that people will respond to this good news and decide to put up their hands in surrender, leave their rubbish behind, and be won over by God's love. God, Rob suggests, will never throw in the towel and give up trying to win us over. And because he is amazingly persuasive, Rob's conclusion is that for many, however long it takes, love wins.

The best we can say about this is 'Well, perhaps.' Many earnest believers, (including Martin Luther apparently) don't at a philosophical level, rule out the possibility completely. But the Christian faith is intensely practical, and on a practical level the message of Jesus is very much one of 'Don't leave it to philosophical speculation - don't leave it to chance - decide to follow God in this life.' The impression I get from reading the New Testament isn't that you might not get another chance, but to work on the premise that you won't.

Rob makes some very pertinent and telling points in his book about living for eternity. Eternal life, as Jesus described it, begins not in some future existence but now. God will eventually build a new earth, and bring his heaven into co-existence with it. As one scholar put it, at the end of time as it relates to this world, God will change his postcode and we will all be neighbours. So how we live now sets us on a course into eternity. I am not fit for heaven. There is plenty of rubbish in my life that I have to work on. But the course of my life is set by a recognition that I am ultimately powerless to deal with it. I need someone to come and take it away, and that person is Jesus Christ. Every day he helps me with the effects of the rubbish in my life and works to minimise and eradicate them. A day will come when that support will be so complete that I won't have to struggle with any of it, any more, ever again. That will be heaven indeed.

But anyone who chooses to hang on to their trash, or who have refused Christ's offer of help to remove it, has set a course that makes heaven for them an impossibility. At some point, their decision will irreversible. Ultimately I have to agree with Rob that only God knows the point that happens. But if people don't reverse that choice in this life, I can find little grounds for hope that they will in the next.

Which brings me to the last issue that has caused such a stir in Love Wins. What, in fact, is hell. Rob recognises that many people - including many Christians have a genuine problem with the idea that hell is an eternity - billions of endless years - of conscious physical torture. It is, at best, a very uncomfortable idea. For many, they can't reconcile this with their understanding of who God is. The God they know, and have read about in the Old and New Testaments, seeks mankind's redemption and recovery. He is utterly tenacious in seeking our ultimate best and even when he inflicts judgement it is with a view to bringing people to their senses and turning them from their rebellion. And you can't say that Rob is some dreamy theoretician who is not moved by the evils humanity can inflict. You can read in his book how he has been personally exposed to some of the horrific examples of the depraved humanity that infests our planet.

So what do we say to this? What, in fact, would I say to this.  Jesus used an image for hell that would resonate powerfully with people in his day. He talked about   'Gehenna'. This was the Hinnom valley outside Jerusalem - the municipal rubbish dump. It was where the stuff was thrown that would otherwise bring disease and death into the city. It was a dump that was continually burning but whose contents were never consumed. And if you listened carefully you would be able to hear the noise of the animals who scavenged there gnashing their teeth at each other as they competed for scraps of food. Jesus never gives us a scientific physical description of hell and nor do any other New Testament writers. They use images to leave an impression.

And the impression it leaves on me is this. Firstly, it's the place where everything goes that's not fit for heaven (in the last book in the Bible, Revelation, death itself is consigned to it). It wasn't made to accommodate me, you, or anyone else we know, but for the rubbish. But if you insist on living with your rubbish, the only place you can do that in eternity is the dump.

The second impression it leaves is this. Whatever hell is, it's frankly the last place in the universe you would want to be. So Jesus, and the other New Testament writers use an image that gets this message over.

Buy the book? Yes, absolutely. It's well worth it for all the stuff you will agree with. And for the stuff you don't, remember that many other people are likely to ask the same kinds of questions about the same kinds of issues that Rob Bell does. So coming up with your own answers to the questions he raises will be time well spent.

And even if you disagree with the feller you can still respect his position, his concern for the reputation of God, his desire for the well-being of people outside the church in need of a saviour, those who have left the church because of the distorted image of God they were presented with, and those in the church to help them respond to the amazing unfathomable incomparable inspiring and compelling God they serve.

So maybe we can make sure that, as far as it depends on us, Love Wins.

Is there time to build a Big Society?

I think it was Oscar Wilde who said that socialism was doomed to fail because there weren't enough evenings in the week. In discussions I've had with a wide variety of people on the Big Society 'time' is an issue that doesn't take long to emerge. Engagement specialist and social entrepreneur Richard Wilson has expressed this as well as anyone I've read to date. Here's a quote worthy of any good sermon or pilotical speech:

'Time is the currency that fuels community, society and progress. We are, as a society and as individuals, how we spend our time.' He goes on to express a view about how time has, over the last half century, been dissipated from local communities. 'One of the most direct consequences of widespread economic liberation is that the time once invested in our communities has now been transferred into the wider financial economy. No one is suggesting that we should return to the starkly prejudicial times of the 1950s; but these developments have consequences.'

Richard then quotes research from the Henley Centre which showed that 'in 2009 64% of people felt they did not have enough time to get things done' a figure which has risen during the recession.

Now this has implications. In a statement which is pretty close to being prophetic Richard concludes as follows: 'We need to understand how we spend our time right now, and what it is that drives our current life choices. And we need to find and adopt the policies and practices that allow us to reinvest our time, our most precious resource, sensibly and responsibly

Now whilst Richard's interest is in social policy, this got me thinking about about our time priorities as churches. Mission-focused churches think about how to transform their communities with the Gospel. For many, this is in terms of winning people to faith one at a time. Others seek to transform the culture of their communities through a combination of prayer, outreach, and large-scale social action - think Eden Project. And this really is the heart of the question. To what extent is our ambition to win souls, and to what extent is it also to transform culture through engaging with the opportunities provided by major socio-political developments.

The Big Society will ask the question 'what are you doing with your time'? The response of many will be 'mind your own business'. As John de Jong said in response to my last post, many are 'conditioned to being recipients rather than contributors.' Others will decide they are too busy simply getting through life to invest energy in their communities, whereas others will say they are building the Big Society already - through sacrificially giving their time and expertise to good causes or to people in greater need than themselves. Paring back the state will mean some activities currently supported through tax will need community-minded people to pick up the slack. What can the church offer?

Well I think the answer to that is 'quite a lot' but it will mean refocusing some of our time. I say 'refocusing' because mission-minded churches tend not to have lots of spare time to play with. They are busy with their worship meetings, Alpha type courses, small groups, discipleship arrangements, husbands clubs, overseas missions, providing hospitality for visitors and friends, and all the other activities and groups needed to make a church tick. All this is not only valuable in its own right, but also contributes to the wider fabric of society. We don't always recognise the value of this. Churches already contribute a lot to the foundations of community through giving lots of cash to good causes, generally building strong families, and providing social networks that draw in many different kinds of people thereby creating 'social capital' - new networks of relationships that would not otherwise have developed. And whilst some do invest energy in 'social action' this tends to be an added extra rather than a core activity.

So do we need a fresh look at our resources as churches and how they can be deployed? Churches have good project managers, people who can help others learn to budget, language teachers who can prepare people for overseas mission, and help asylum seekers overcome the language barrier, people who can transfer parenting skills, artists who can bring people together around a common focus of music, the visual arts, community celebrations, and a host of other skills too many to enumerate. All these can also be focused through the church to transform communities by organising volunteers, identifying problems, finding the skills and manpower to resolve them, raise funds, and bringing diverse people together around common causes.

So a key question the Big Society raises for the church is the extent to which churches are  another sub-community and sub-culture, or powerful forces for change within existing community structures. To what extent do we see ourselves as part of the mix, or a separate cake? With a little creative thinking, I am quite convinced we can continue to do the essential and core business of church, equipping our people to live worshipful and holy lives before an eternal God and be an even greater transforming force in our communities. The Big Society provides us with some big opportunties. And if we're smart, maybe we won't need another day in the week to grasp them.

 

 

 

The Big Society

So just what is this Big Society stuff all about? I thought I'd do a few short posts drawing on some comments and discussion I've seen, looking at what people associate Big Society with, how Christians have influenced and are influencing the concept, problems people have raised with it, and what opportunities it could raise for churches.

So what are we talking about here? Ian Birrell, writing in the Guardian offers the following:

'At its core, the big society is an attempt to connect the civic institutions that lie between the individual and the state – and these range from the family and neighbourhood to churches, charities, libraries, local schools and hospitals. It is born out of recognition that our centralised state has become too big, too bureaucratic and just too distant to support many of those most in need of help, and that it deters people from playing a more active role in public life.

In political terms, this means passing power to the lowest level possible: radical public service reform, so that schools, social services, planning and even prisons are more responsive to the needs of those using them; and social action, to encourage more people to play a role in society. Not just charities, but neighbourhood groups, workers' co-operatives, social enterprises and, yes, businesses.

To amplify the devolution of power there must be greater transparency, freeing up the state's information and data. This is vital because much of the reform is results-driven – it does not matter who delivers a public service, only that the best possible service is delivered to the public and that they have a clear view of successes and failures.'

So the Big Society seeks to change the current dynamic which sees the taxpayer as a consumer - one who can demand certain standards of service from whomsoever Government contracts to deliver the services for which the taxpayer pays. It's community not consumerism. Local people set the priorities for local services, and increasingly will need to provide them as the state is pared back.

In this relationship Government becomes less of a provider and more of a facilitator. It will support the raising of a 'citizen's army' of 5,000 community organisers who will identify community leaders, help the creation of neighbourhood groups, and help local communities solve their own issues. A new Big Society bank will find £60 to £100 million from dormant bank accounts which intermediary groups will distribute to charities, social enterprises and community groups.

So far so good - all very plausible. But what are the implications for such a radical shift in the relationship between Government and citizens? What more will it take to make this vision a reality? And how might local churches want to respond to this enhanced local emphasis?

 

 

My blog's been shortlisted by the Jubilee Centre

 My blog, Something Personal, has been nominated in the Jubilee Centre's search for the best Christian blogs that engage with social and political concerns (see below).

Whilst quite happy if you vote for me, (I'll be voting for Adrian Warnock (!)) the main object of the exercise is to give wider exposure to the range of Christian blogs that explore these subjects, and remind everyone of the positive work done by the Jubilee Centre.

Do have a look at the Jubilee site and see what goes on there.

From: Dr John Hayward
Sent: 24 September 2010 15:47
To: Ashton Geoff
Subject: Your blog has been nominated!

To Geoff Ashton,

In case you are not aware, your blog Something Personal has been
nominated in the Jubilee Centre's search for the best Christian blogs that engage
with social and political concerns.  You would be welcome to point your
readers to the following page to encourage them to vote for your blog and to
help them explore similar blogs:
http://www.jubilee-centre.org/blog/337/the_best_christian_blogs_search
All the best,
John Hayward
Executive Director
Jubilee Centre

Some favourite tweeters

A few months back I got right into the 21st Century with a smart phone. It's Android rather than Apple - I'm hoping the quality of the Apps starts to improve to Apple standards over time.

So now I'm the owner of a Motorolla Droid. Best aspect of the phone is the way it brings up tweets, Facebook posts, and emails as small windows on one of the home pages. I've become quite a fan of Twitter which is great if you know how to use it. Think of it as the place for one-liners. Eric Morcambe to Facebook's Jasper Carrot.

And there are so many great Tweeters out there. Here's three of my favourites.

 @roy_todd is an Irish evangelist and soon to be church planter. As well as getting updates on J24, the new church soon to be coming on stream, he shares encouraging insights picked up from friends and some great jokes. "Husband - Darling, how am I supposed to remember your birthday when you never look a day older?"

@ZeroPoint99 is a site advertising some novel ideas in alternative energy sources. I must confess I haven't really looked into this, enjoying more the daily (sometimes hourly) pearls of wisdom dropped in from a range of different people, but with a positively Christian emphasis.

@BrianCHouston leads Hillsong church down under. His tweets reflect his personality. He is incurably positive, and I admire his humilty. One from today : "Leaders goal: To lead wity my life and not just my gift! Courtesy @Diane_Wilson"

So if you are always ready for a quick boost of encouragement - a quality espresso of energising wisdom, vision, or plain good fun - check them out!

What's 20,000 divided by 300? It's about 67. And it has something important to do with church growth. But more about that later.

Grapevine Sunday was something of a ladies morning with Irene Bell introducing Carol Alexander, the morning speaker. Carol lectures at Mattersey Bible college and spoke on the mission of God. A South African who served for many years on the African mission field she had some powerful stories to tell about how our faith can be translated into practical action. I was encouraged to reflect that a lot of what she was describing is modelled in our own church, Mosaic. Leeds is a big city with all the attendant social issues that go with a modern western metropolis and there is a lot more to do. But we're making a decent start, touching a number of very different strata of our society.

In the afternoon I slipped into a seminar led by Jarrod Cooper who leads a growing church in Hull. For years it had never got above 240 members. They had a serious look at what it would take to break this barrier and, to cut a longer story short, have gone for a model of one church that meets mid-week in multiple locations. The results have been electric. Membership is over 400, over 200 people came to Christ last year, and they have seen many more people in the church taking on more responsibility in speaking, worship leading, managing venues, hospitality and the rest. They have forged good partnerships with other churches who have quality venues that are happy to loan/rent.

There were many ideas that struck me, in particular the approach that whatever kind of even they put on they always give an invitation for salvation. "We are called to catch fish, not feed them." The Gospel is, after all, good news.

And what of that statistic we started with? It comes from a church which, when it had 500 members planned to get to 5,000 within five years. A year later they were 20,000 strong. How - by meeting in 300 locations. And 20,000 divided by 300 is about 67.