2007/12/22

Baby, bathwater, and reformation

One of the great themes of the Reformation was that the scriptures - and worship - should be in a language understood by the people. In England, that meant that Cranmer's prayer book replaced the Latin Mass. [It's interesting to see how Roman Catholic opinion on this sways around somewhat, with something of a recent reinstatement of the Tridentine Mass, but I digress.] This was, clearly, a Good Thing (apologies to Sellar and Yateman).

But are our modern churches in danger of doing something similar?: not by using a foreign language, but by using a dialect entirely unfamiliar to the population at large. More importantly, too many sermons are couched in a language of theology which is entirely alien to many of the hearers: I know full well that it is possible to say one thing from the pulpit, and have people hear something different. They may even greet you afterwards and thank you for some point - a point which you actually, consciously, did not make. You could put this down to the wisdom of the Holy Spirit, but more often, I fear, it is just a failure to communicate.

Theology bothers me. If we cannot rightly divide the Word without recourse to several commentaries, why are people enjoined to daily devotional bibile reading? If people have the impression that only the preacher can interpret the scripture, then where is the priesthood of all believers? [I know that there are counter-arguments, too: we cannot just pick up a 2000-year-old text (still less a 3000-year-old one) and expect to know - in translation - what it meant to those who wrote it. And we can finesse that argument too, and ask whether that matters, and so on. And yes, some have a gift of teaching: but what will they teach, and how? Bear with me.]

In the pre-reformation days, the stories of scripture were brought to the people's attention through pictures and stained glass; freezes, and all manner of other art forms. Worship becomes highly theatrical, as liturgical colours and vestments carry particular meanins. The reformation swept most of that away, and worked on the assumption that vernacular worship and bible teaching would engage the population at large. Well, the people of Calvin's Geneva may have comprehended his Institutes, but I can't help feeling that we - in my country at least - don't necessarily have a general standard of education suitable for most people to engage with most of the literature, most of the time.

I know this isn't an original thought. I suspect that others have articulated it better than I. There is no point congratulating ourselves that our worship is not in Latin, if what we say and do is almost as excluding - to believers and others in our present generation.

I know that many fellowships have experimented with much greater creativity in worship. Some, too, I guess, are working on truly involving the people at large in the interpretation of the word: not to do away with the bible teacher, but to make the most of everything we know about teaching and learning in the 21st century. Above all, let's not over-intellectualize [ooh; I hate words with more than four syllables] faith.

2007/12/19

Anger and Fear

A post by Glenn Hager took me off to youtube to see a very funny Nooma parody. It was witty, very well-observed, and well put together. You should watch it, if you have seen the Noomas. They do say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. The production of the Noomas is full of all manner of subtleties, and many of these have been faithfully ripped off in Burito here. Is there a spiritual point to this? Not really, only a very cheesy one. Perhaps it's a gentle way of saying that Rob Bell sometimes comes across as a little self-important: but on balance, I think it's just a bit of fun.

But oh dear, oh dear. You can't go to youtube and watch just one clip, can you? There's always something else to catch your eye. Oh, so there are lots more Nooma parodies. Some are in the same vein, just not as good as this one. But some ... are oh so barbed.

My attention was drawn to Bullwhip. (I can't bring myself to make a link to that). It's a parody of Bullhorn, and also very well-observed and put together. Its purpose is far from mere entertaining distraction, though. The original has images of Rob Bell cut in with the journey of a street evangelist, preparing leaflets and going out to shout at people through a megaphone (Bullhorn, in American, it seems). Bell gently argues that this doesn't seem to be working in 21st Century Michigan, and that maybe a more relational approach to sharing Christ might be more suitable. The parody has a Rob Bell-alike cut in with images of Jesus going to the temple taking a bullwhip, shouting and overturning tables. Rob Bell-alike 'argues' that Jesus should stop being so shouty, and do some more relational stuff, with lots of love, instead.

The analogy fails on so many levels. That's not what interests me. What I'm fascinated by is the way that so much effort has been invested to making this video, deliberately and in a calculated way to undermine the ministry of another. And, too, the number of comments attached to Bullwhip of the "yea, you tell'em" variety. Where is the light? Where is the grace? Where is the gentle correction?

I've blogged before about the amount of anger which seems to accompany the reaction of many to the emerging church. I've seen it in other blogs, too; Josh Brown's tussles with Ken Silva, for example. I really want to work out what's going on there.

If the emerging people (and it's far from clear who those are, and whether or not they include Bell, for example) are spreading a terrible heresy, then isn't the correct New Testament response simply to dissociate from them, and have nothing to do with them? Is there a hint of fear in the background here? Fear that cherished beliefs might be wrong, and need changing? Fear that the emergers are "successful" in dominating the agenda, and that others might be side-lined ("not that we measure by numbers..."). Or is it that the general standard of education in America (and the UK) is such that people are simply not understanding the rhetorical style employed by Bell and others? I must say that some people really wilfully seem to miss the point, and fixate on a minor side-issue: well, either they are wilful, or they really are, er, stupid. It's as if the spirit in which they approach things is to look for error, rather than to look for truth. That's damaging and corrosive.

As for me, well my mind isn't made up. But I know we are to judge by the fruits we see. And I know that the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. And I know that the fruit of the sinful nature includes hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions, and envy. And I know which the Bullwhip people put me in mind of. But maybe I'm wrong.

2007/12/15

What it's all about

A member of my church home bible study group died today. I think, though I'm not yet certain, that J. died peacefully in his own bed. He was in his late eighties.

Was J. a long-standing member, a pillar of the church? No: though in his childhood he had some church contact, he was really a life-long non-church-goer. He started coming to our church about five years ago, some time after his wife died (she had been a member of the women's fellowship).

It was obvious that J. was desparately lonely. He joined everything there was going - even the Women's Fellopwship, which had to change its name. He used to tell us that he wished God would take him away too. Without his wife, life was empty and pointless.

But J. started to make friends at the church. Among the young, more so than the old, actually. He started to get out of himself a bit more. But it wasn't just the friendships which meant he stopped saying that he wished he was dead. There was work going on in his spirit, too. It wasn't just that he attended a lot of Alpha courses (he must hold some sort of record there). It wasn't just that he took to reading the bible from cover to cover several times over. It was that, through all those things - relationships, teaching, and reading - God changed him.

A good example was just a couple of years ago. We studied forgiveness in our bible study. We agreed that where there is deep hurt, forgiveness takes a lot of time, and effort, and will. It's a process, not an event. But J. said, more than once, that he had seen such terrible things in the Second World War, he could never forgive the Germans. But God had other ideas. Over the next few months, he was able to change that around. And that was so obviously a burden let go. It changed that little corner of his memories, and there was a little bit of extra peace brought to his life.

J. was frail character: there were so many things wrong with his health, we thought we'd lost him many times. The highlight of this past year was when J. was baptized. He went though with full immersion: almost literally a heart-stopping moment. Could he have succinctly explained "the gospel"? I doubt it very much. But there was a heartfelt confession of faith there.

I'm glad I knew J. I was hopeless at really connecting with him: he and I used to joke about the fact that I never seemed to have time to go and visit. But several others did. And that made a real difference in his life. Not just because it made him less lonely, but because through those relationships he so obviously gained a new perspective on life, and God, and much else beside. And it seems to me that that's what church is all about.

2007/12/10

I feel dirty

I've spent all day on a course about Mobile Social Networking. I do technical stuff normally. I knew this would be more business-oriented. But I had little idea how low everyone would stoop.

There's a site which has (or had, when the stats were collected) 80,000 subscribers: www.flirtomatic.com. The name kind-of suggests what it's all about. Those 80,000 subscribers have between them purchased 3.5m virtual roses. At a cost of something like 40c each.

American folks may not realise how comprehensive mobile phone (cellphone) reach is in the rest of the world. There are 3.3bn active subscribers in the world. But get this, market penetration in several countries (in Asia, and in Europe) is approaching 150% of the population. Yes, that's right, including infants and the very old. So a high proportion of the adult population has two mobile phone accounts. And there are a whole slew of products just coming onto the market for the under-12s.

Evidently a lot of people want a slice of that sort of action. I don't know what to think.


Leaving aside the profligacy of equipping everyone with an advanced instant communication device, the sheer balls of the marketing people who then want to relieve users of their hard-earned cash to buy virtual consumer goods is staggering. On one level, that's not consumptive - it uses very few resources - but boy, oh boy, it plays on people's deepest fears of failing to be at the heart of their social network. Studies have shown that SMS texting is as addictive as smoking - and that people deprived of their phones show classic symptoms of withdrawl.

Has our culture come to this? Yes, indeed. And, europhiles, look where all that exploitative marketing is coming from. Caring, sharing Europe.

2007/12/09

Conflicted: update

So I think I managed to speak without perjuring myself, and without offending anyone. People can be so polite, so you never really know. My former sunday-school teacher made a comment I didn't understand - it could have been a criticism, I'm not sure.

Maybe comparing our approach to prophecy to the way that some read Nostradamus was a bit recherché. But prophecy is a challenging topic. Old Testament texts which may mean many things, but appear to be fulfilled in New Testament events certainly make you pause. The way Matthew, say, quotes Isaiah 7 serves to underline that he really really wasn't a Modern writer, and we can't read the bible simply with a Modern mind-set.

Then there's the prophecies yet to be fulfilled. The second coming and all that. One reason why I'm confident that we don't have all that sewn up (notwithstanding that diagram Nick posted this week) is that the folks in Jesus' time were so mistaken in what they were looking for. Are we likely to be any better?

2007/12/07

An incomplete thought

Here's a development of something I've been thinking about for a while.

Most of us realise that the way we (Evangelicals, free church people , whatever) "do church" today owes most to the heady days of the reformation, with some pre-reformation thinking, and a few modifications in more recent years. But those days were very different from now. Music has changed - but most of us have at least reflected that a little. Communication has changed. Teaching has changed. Lectures were never a very good way of delivering ideas and promoting thought: they are quickly disappearing from our Universities - at least in the one-way, non-interactive sense. I'm not just thinking about using Powerpoint [how did that Microsoft product become a generic term?]. I'm thinking that there's no good reason why people should sit down and listen to me preach a second-rate sermon, when we could watch a video together (or a live feed) of someone really gifted. And for some of us, live music is perhaps over-rated, too. I'm not saying that we need to throw everything out, just that we can mix it up some more.

But a blog post answering people who try to explain "Why I don't go to church" got me thinking (I can't remember, to be honest, how newattitude got onto my blog roll, but I digress). Let us assume, for a moment, that the New Testament Church is the thing to emulate. Suppose that it is the closest picture we have of what God had in mind for a Christian community. What is it about that community that matters? Is it gathering by the river? Or in an over-warm upper room? What does gathering together mean in any case?

People tried, through the 20th century, to do elements of "church" via TV and radio. But they couldn't replace the real thing, because there was no relationship there. Sure, we had telephones, and the combination of TV and phone has been a life-line for some house-bound people. But it could never be the relational community you get by sitting down together.

But the last two decades have given us a genuine novelty: multi-party multi-way communication, relationship, mediated entirely by electronic means. There have been a few, possibly lame attempts at "on-line churches", but that rather seems to miss the point. The church is about people and their relationships. It's about corporate action in the world which shows people Jesus. Today you genuinely can have meaningful, supportive relationships without ever meeting people, can't you? The theology of the Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church implies a single Church Militant, yet the expression we have been stuck with for two millennia has been a collection of local congregations, and we've always had a certain ambivilance (outside of the Roman Catholics, at least) about the relationship of the local with the universal. We are now on the verge of being able to have a single global community. How cool is that?

I know that throwing off the local expression of church isn't fully an original idea. Indeed, I hang out on the blogs of some people who have done just that. But I wonder how far we can or should press the idea. For me, for now, I'm still persuaded that church is an important category, a crucial part of my life. But I wonder how different it could be, and yet still be church.

2007/12/05

Emerging politics

So here's what I don't get. At all.

The whole emerging conversation seems to be broadly aligned with the left of politics. I realise that's a loose alignment. I realise, too, that most of my reading has been from USA writers, and is therefore influenced by American political thinking. And I realise that for some decades now, USA Evangelicals have generally been associated with the right of politics. And I realise that there is something of a sea-change afoot in American politics which sees the Democratic party resurgent (in House and Senate, as well as likely presidency). And I realise that the emerging conversation is to some extent a protest movement, and it is therefore trendy to be associated with the sea-change going on in American politics. I realise that everything I have written is a gross over-simplification.

I bring a broadly right-wing persuasion to the table. In British politics right now, the church tends to be mostly associated with the left. So my own form of protest is to look to the right. But I always was a bit of a rebel.

And then there's the politics of climate change, which sometimes looks like a religion in its own right. Notwithstanding the fact that my name is on a Nature paper on the subject, I'm far from convinced. And even less convinced about all the hand-wringing and switching off of lights as a sensible response. But that certainly doesn't leave me in the camp which says we have a divine mandate to rape and pillage the earth's resources as quickly as we possibly can. Reduce--Reuse--Recycle is a great credo to be sure. But I'm probably beyond the pale in the eyes of many readers by now (if there are many readers, that is. I wish blogger told me that).

The point of this post? Much of the emerging conversation resonates for me as something which fits my thinking. The political bits really, really, don't. Is that a different continent--different politics thing, or does it go deeper?

2007/12/04

Conflicted

Life's complex sometimes. Often, actually. I think that's one of the many things I'm learning through my present programme of reading and reflecting. Evangelical certainty is a fine ideal, but it often doesn't seem to stack up well with reality, or, really, with the things we've previously taken as foundational - scripture, in particular.

Thinking this way is simultaneously liberating and disturbing, of course. Liberating to find people who want to ask questions, like I have lately wanted to, and are not willing to settle for simple answers. Some principles of hermeneutics are just, well, silly. Some commonplace exegesis is, frankly, incredible, implausible, even. Why does it have to feel daring to say so? There's something disturbing about letting go of some of the things you've held onto for years - even if doing so involved rather a lot of doublethink.

Why conflicted heart-searching today? Well, I have to preach a sermon this coming Sunday, at my parents' church. And the allocated topic is "the prophetic preparation for Jesus' birth". That's scary enough at the best of times. Right now, it's downright confusing.

I have ideas. I just wonder if they'll ever talk to me again, afterwards.

2007/12/01

Review: They Like Jesus but not the Church


Anyone would think I'm not really trying. These blog posts are too sporadic. I'll try to catch up with comments on stuff I read a while ago ... but meanwhile, I've just finished reading They Like Jesus but not the Church by Dan Kimball. And here's what I think.

I like Dan. I have to read more of his stuff. He's very circumspect at the beginning: he explains he's addressing an American audience; that America is becoming de-churched, as it were, just like Europe did about a generation ago. I myself think the comparison is more complex than that - and I think his book has something to say to the English church, at least, as well as the American one. But I admire the modesty of his position.

Though, having said that, he does rather bend over backwards to avoid being a stumbling block to the reader. The chapter about the church being seen as sexist is very careful not to take a view on 'women's ministry' - even though it's pretty obvious where Dan stands. I'd say: Dan, you don't need to be quite so winsome. You have a good story to tell; nail your colours up there.

The book seems to revolve around conversations Dan has whilst getting his hair cut and styled. When you see the pictures, you can imagine why he has quite a few such conversations. I exaggerate: he also hangs out in coffee shops a lot, it seems, describing himself as quite reluctant to get in to conversation, yet managing to summon lots of excellent pithy quotes from hair stylists, baristas, and other members of the emerging generation.

For this is how he seems to use the E word: I don't recall it being applied particularly to a group of Christians anywhere in the book, but rather to a generation which is in its late 20s and early 30s now. I'm not sure whether that is supposed to be a stage-of-life characterization (like 'teenagers') or a particular generation which will keep its label as it ages (like the baby boomers, or Generation X). As a mid-Generation-X-er, I'm disappointed to find that the action is now with the younger folks, but that's life I suppose.

The book is an easy read, and has displaced for a while Exiles: Living Missionally in a Post-Christian Culture, which also seems good, but is proving heavy going. I found it most thought-provoking: it's good to be reminded that it matters not just what we believe, but how we believe it, and how others see us putting faith into practice.