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?
Possibly disconnected ramblings of a mid-Generation-X-er trying to make sense of the phenomenon which is the emerging church.
2007/12/09
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.
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?
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.
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.
2007/11/08
Deja Vu all over again?
I've remarked to a few people that what I have been reading about the emerging church tends to put me in mind of the Christian Brethren. This blog is about that impression.
Do read the disclaimer at the end. I'm emphatically not saying "this is that", nor would I dream of making predictions, or offering warnings.
The Brethren have their origins in the early decades of the 1800s, in various places in England and Ireland, most famously Plymouth. Though they attracted people from various backgrounds, the bulk were from the Anglican (Church of England) tradition: they were disaffected with the lack of real spiritual life they found there, and wanted something more. The same malaise in the Church of England is also what gave rise to the Oxford Movement - the Anglo-Catholic Wing of the Church.
These men (and women: it must be said they only got a background part) did their best to throw off all the trappings of the Church. Their principle act of worship together was a "meeting" (never a "service"), where everyone met together (in a "room" or a "hall", never a "church"), without any pre-planned order of events. Everyone (well, ok, every man) was free to speak, pray, read the bible, begin a song/hymn, or, well, whatever, really. The climax was sharing communion - bread and wine - together.
Well, that's the typical pattern, anyway. Each local gathering (which was often called "the assembly", or "the meeting") was entirely autonomous, so all kinds of local patterns grew up. Some were led by a group of "elders", others, simply by having another open meeting to discuss the plans and life of the community. Paid, full-time leaders were very rare - though some would serve the church, and rely on gifts (and God's provision) for their subsistence.
Most assemblies would also hold mid-week meetings for prayer and bible study. There was a strong sense of community life here, and also much openness - itinerant speakers from other like-minded fellowships would visit, and, at least in some places, there would be cordial links with other local Christians. There never has been any Brethren "denomination": some have taken it upon themselves to publish directories of like-minded fellowships; in the hey-day there were several magazines appealing to the constituency, and there have been a number of mission agencies dominated by Brethren ideals.
Indeed, these groups have been characterized by a very high commitment to mission. Most would hold a regular "gospel meeting"; engage with the needs of the whole person in a variety of ways (Muller and Banardo did huge amounts of good work with orphans, for example), and most notably be very involved in overseas educational and medical missions. Proportionately, the Brethren are reckoned to be among the most mission-sending denominations (if they were a denomination).
There's a rosy picture. I wonder if it strikes any chords. How did it pan out?
Well, rather early on, there was a big split. I forget what the original split was over, but those with a more purist approach left, to form a more exclusive group. These "Exclusive Brethren" continued to split and fight among themselves, eventually becoming sect-like in quite a few ways. These days, one thing which characterizes the few remaining Exclusives is an unwillingness to use computers, for example.
The majority, "open Brethren", thrived and developed - with all sorts of patterns of activity arising in many places. The mission work has given rise to like-minded meetings in many countries, all of them autonomous communities, and almost without exception with shared leadership - though some will have paid full- or part-time staff these days.
The Brethren have not tended to be terribly prescriptive when it comes to theology. There is a common point of view, but an openness to differences of emphasis. I've belonged to three Brethren meetings, I don't think any of them has a doctrinal statement or basis of faith. Yet the Open Brethren have tended to be mercifully free of perambulations into paths of heresy.
Indeed, perhaps the biggest problem the Brethren have had has proven to be an unwillingness to change. Proceeding by consensus, and bearing with each other in love, often tends to discourage us from big initiatives. Without some initiative-takers, we have a danger of being stuck in the good ideas of the 1840s. Quite a number of the dwindling meetings are using a staggeringly ancient hymn-book, full of the most atrocious Victorian poetry.
"Dwindling" is probably an accurate term. Many are now disappearing. Some have seen a pattern at work throughout history: God by his Spirit does something new and mould-breaking. It has an enormous energy for a while, and then things ossify and fossilize. Then they decay. That's quite an indictment of our fallen nature.
Final note: as I said at the beginning, I wouldn't presume to say "this is that", nor to offer predictions or warnings. Emerging Church puts me in mind of the Brethren, and that thrills me, because I think some of the Brethren ideas are awesome ones whose time has come. If a new generation is discovering them (with a different spin, with other ideas thrown in), that's great.
Do read the disclaimer at the end. I'm emphatically not saying "this is that", nor would I dream of making predictions, or offering warnings.
The Brethren have their origins in the early decades of the 1800s, in various places in England and Ireland, most famously Plymouth. Though they attracted people from various backgrounds, the bulk were from the Anglican (Church of England) tradition: they were disaffected with the lack of real spiritual life they found there, and wanted something more. The same malaise in the Church of England is also what gave rise to the Oxford Movement - the Anglo-Catholic Wing of the Church.
These men (and women: it must be said they only got a background part) did their best to throw off all the trappings of the Church. Their principle act of worship together was a "meeting" (never a "service"), where everyone met together (in a "room" or a "hall", never a "church"), without any pre-planned order of events. Everyone (well, ok, every man) was free to speak, pray, read the bible, begin a song/hymn, or, well, whatever, really. The climax was sharing communion - bread and wine - together.
Well, that's the typical pattern, anyway. Each local gathering (which was often called "the assembly", or "the meeting") was entirely autonomous, so all kinds of local patterns grew up. Some were led by a group of "elders", others, simply by having another open meeting to discuss the plans and life of the community. Paid, full-time leaders were very rare - though some would serve the church, and rely on gifts (and God's provision) for their subsistence.
Most assemblies would also hold mid-week meetings for prayer and bible study. There was a strong sense of community life here, and also much openness - itinerant speakers from other like-minded fellowships would visit, and, at least in some places, there would be cordial links with other local Christians. There never has been any Brethren "denomination": some have taken it upon themselves to publish directories of like-minded fellowships; in the hey-day there were several magazines appealing to the constituency, and there have been a number of mission agencies dominated by Brethren ideals.
Indeed, these groups have been characterized by a very high commitment to mission. Most would hold a regular "gospel meeting"; engage with the needs of the whole person in a variety of ways (Muller and Banardo did huge amounts of good work with orphans, for example), and most notably be very involved in overseas educational and medical missions. Proportionately, the Brethren are reckoned to be among the most mission-sending denominations (if they were a denomination).
There's a rosy picture. I wonder if it strikes any chords. How did it pan out?
Well, rather early on, there was a big split. I forget what the original split was over, but those with a more purist approach left, to form a more exclusive group. These "Exclusive Brethren" continued to split and fight among themselves, eventually becoming sect-like in quite a few ways. These days, one thing which characterizes the few remaining Exclusives is an unwillingness to use computers, for example.
The majority, "open Brethren", thrived and developed - with all sorts of patterns of activity arising in many places. The mission work has given rise to like-minded meetings in many countries, all of them autonomous communities, and almost without exception with shared leadership - though some will have paid full- or part-time staff these days.
The Brethren have not tended to be terribly prescriptive when it comes to theology. There is a common point of view, but an openness to differences of emphasis. I've belonged to three Brethren meetings, I don't think any of them has a doctrinal statement or basis of faith. Yet the Open Brethren have tended to be mercifully free of perambulations into paths of heresy.
Indeed, perhaps the biggest problem the Brethren have had has proven to be an unwillingness to change. Proceeding by consensus, and bearing with each other in love, often tends to discourage us from big initiatives. Without some initiative-takers, we have a danger of being stuck in the good ideas of the 1840s. Quite a number of the dwindling meetings are using a staggeringly ancient hymn-book, full of the most atrocious Victorian poetry.
"Dwindling" is probably an accurate term. Many are now disappearing. Some have seen a pattern at work throughout history: God by his Spirit does something new and mould-breaking. It has an enormous energy for a while, and then things ossify and fossilize. Then they decay. That's quite an indictment of our fallen nature.
Final note: as I said at the beginning, I wouldn't presume to say "this is that", nor to offer predictions or warnings. Emerging Church puts me in mind of the Brethren, and that thrills me, because I think some of the Brethren ideas are awesome ones whose time has come. If a new generation is discovering them (with a different spin, with other ideas thrown in), that's great.
2007/11/03
Time for a review: Nooma
Thank you to people who have left comments here: it's a little scary to find I have a blog with readers. So, here goes with more of a proper review.
My introduction to this kind of thinking was the Nooma videos, featuring Rob Bell. I'm still not sure about whether he would describe himself - and his church - as part of the emerging church phenomenon or not, but that doesn't matter here. Nooma is a series of short films, styling itself "the new format". Presented on DVD, most are about 10 minutes of Rob speaking to camera, in a variety of settings, with music and film cut in.
I think it's fair to say that the Noomas have very high production values. In fact, I'm not sure I have ever come across Christian media of higher quality. It's stylish and up-to-date. And very non-cringeworthy. There's so much I encounter in the Christian community which I wouldn't dream of sharing with those outside. But Nooma is an exception.
The topics of the talks are varied. They are some very Christian themes, by and large. The first one, for example, is about God's love for us, and his longing for us to live in relationship with him. It's the sort of stuff which can be thought-provoking for Christians, but by no means inaccessible to those who aren't so sure. It's certainly not a classical presentation of "the gospel", nor, in any sense, some kind of apologetics. But for a less head-on discussion (something I'm inclined to think is very timely), here are some really good thoughts to kick around.
Despite some criticisms for his rhetorical style (leading some to dismiss him as a denier of the truth), my own impression of Bell is of someone who loves and teaches the historical Christian message - in a relevant and current way. He draws on the bible, on his life experience, and many other sources. He's clearly studied Jewish thinking at some length, and draws on rabbinical insights to discuss how Jesus' first hearers would have understood his teaching.
Each Nooma comes with a booklet - again exquisite and stylish - with quotes from the videos, and many open-ended questions. We've used a few of the Noomas in our home study group. Even the ones which seemed to have quite a straightforward conventional message have been followed by good, long-lasting open discussion which seems to push the boundaries rather well, facilitated by the booklet questions.
You might have formed the impression that I'm quite taken with these things. What are the drawbacks? Well, they retail for $10 in the USA and £10 in the UK (that's $20 !). $10 seems fine, but I take exception to the latter for a 12 minute DVD. The booklet presentation doesn't lend itself to giving each group participant a copy, which is a shame. And the whole thing is a bit, er, American: the vocabulary doesn't bother me, but in just about every one we've watched as a group, there's been something I've had to explain to those less-travelled. And I still don't really know what a kickball is.
My introduction to this kind of thinking was the Nooma videos, featuring Rob Bell. I'm still not sure about whether he would describe himself - and his church - as part of the emerging church phenomenon or not, but that doesn't matter here. Nooma is a series of short films, styling itself "the new format". Presented on DVD, most are about 10 minutes of Rob speaking to camera, in a variety of settings, with music and film cut in.
I think it's fair to say that the Noomas have very high production values. In fact, I'm not sure I have ever come across Christian media of higher quality. It's stylish and up-to-date. And very non-cringeworthy. There's so much I encounter in the Christian community which I wouldn't dream of sharing with those outside. But Nooma is an exception.
The topics of the talks are varied. They are some very Christian themes, by and large. The first one, for example, is about God's love for us, and his longing for us to live in relationship with him. It's the sort of stuff which can be thought-provoking for Christians, but by no means inaccessible to those who aren't so sure. It's certainly not a classical presentation of "the gospel", nor, in any sense, some kind of apologetics. But for a less head-on discussion (something I'm inclined to think is very timely), here are some really good thoughts to kick around.
Despite some criticisms for his rhetorical style (leading some to dismiss him as a denier of the truth), my own impression of Bell is of someone who loves and teaches the historical Christian message - in a relevant and current way. He draws on the bible, on his life experience, and many other sources. He's clearly studied Jewish thinking at some length, and draws on rabbinical insights to discuss how Jesus' first hearers would have understood his teaching.
Each Nooma comes with a booklet - again exquisite and stylish - with quotes from the videos, and many open-ended questions. We've used a few of the Noomas in our home study group. Even the ones which seemed to have quite a straightforward conventional message have been followed by good, long-lasting open discussion which seems to push the boundaries rather well, facilitated by the booklet questions.
You might have formed the impression that I'm quite taken with these things. What are the drawbacks? Well, they retail for $10 in the USA and £10 in the UK (that's $20 !). $10 seems fine, but I take exception to the latter for a 12 minute DVD. The booklet presentation doesn't lend itself to giving each group participant a copy, which is a shame. And the whole thing is a bit, er, American: the vocabulary doesn't bother me, but in just about every one we've watched as a group, there's been something I've had to explain to those less-travelled. And I still don't really know what a kickball is.
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