It's that time of year again. The sun is out, the birds are waking me up at six in the morning fighting over the seed I put out the night before, and teenagers are sweating over their exam results.
The future can be a scary place. It's quite unfair to burden someone facing the longest Summer of their lives with a decision which will change their whole lives, that of what to do after school.
And that usually brings up the age old question that I get asked a lot by young Christians: Should I go to Bible college? They're young, they're passionate, and they want to make a big difference. They're also still young enough to not be as jaded as those of us longer in the tooth.
And I'll always give the same answer:
No.
Emphatically, no.
Go to university instead. Go get a degree which will earn you a living. You can pick something idealistic if you like, you're young and have time to recover from those mistakes.
Or just go get a job. I know, easier said than done. Just put on your job helmet and jump in your job cannon and land in job land.
Just please, don't go to Bible college. There are a million and one things better to do with your life.
And why do you want to go to Bible College anyway? We've seen a strange phenomenon in church where we fetishise Bible College students. They are asked to stand out the front of the church and tell everyone what they've discovered about Christianity, and about God. And they are treated as if they are somehow more Holy than everyone else.
I really don't like that idea. And I am not sure that it's helpful to Christianity or churches.
And here are the reasons why: God is bigger than your church. And God wants Godly people in all walks of life.
Something I come across a lot are Christians saying that they can't express their love for Jesus in the workplace. Really? So a nurse comforting and healing dozens of people a day is showing less love than me stood in a pulpit for twenty minutes a week? Or a teacher bringing hope to the next generation has less of an impact on people's lives than I do when I organise Ice Cream night for the Sunday School?
And there's more. Let's be honest here, the economy and business isn't really doing a great job of showing Gods love for the poor or the environment. Politicians are not known for fighting against gender and economical inequality. If all the people who are sold out for Jesus are chained to the pulpit every week, then who is going to make those changes?
I can preach the message until I am red in the face, but if everyone plans on going to Bible College then nothing will change.
Jesus loves you, just the way you are. And those things which you're really interested in, those things which inspire you, those can be used more mightily for Jesus than any amount of seminarians.
At church with me, we've changed from bringing Bible College students out the front to ask what they've learned of God. Now I invite any student who comes in, regardless of their field of study, what they've learned about God. And the results are amazing.
A very dear friend of mine is studying social science, and especially how corporate greed is affecting the elderly. We get to read Noam Chomsky together, and she volunteers for an Alzheimer charity as part of her Masters. She is going to go on and make a real change in the social structure of this country, I hope. At least she's in a position to challenge it.
Another friend is a genius. She has been offered so many teaching opportunities that I can't keep count. Most were in quite well to do areas where she could have a delightful classroom of Quentins and Henrys. She's choosing instead to teach in one of the most deprives areas of the UK, because, as she says, that's where the need is greatest.
That's a choice you don't get to make unless you have a good Masters degree.
If you're sold out for Jesus, if you're on fire for God, please go change the world. Theologically here, I could quote John 3:16, God loves the World. In Greek Cosmos. It's not just the good Christian people, but the whole world, the economy, the environment, the health service, the education system, governments, and transport. If we believe God then there's no area of life that God doesn't love.
And the pulpit can wait.
Honestly, preaching isn't that important. And if you really feel the need to preach then keep in mind the words of St Francis of Assisi: Preach the Gospel at all times, and if necessary use words.
We'd do well to remember that. So best of luck with your results. Go and change the world while you're still young and idealistic. I really think that you can.
Come back to considering ministry in your thirties or forties, it can wait. And if God has called you then that won't change. You'll also be a more well rounded person for it. Life experience is essential when you're dealing with real life issues, like marriages breaking down, and personal insecurities. Don't forget that ministry is ministering to people, and people come with baggage, make sure you've got some handle on it before you try to intervene.
If you're still determined to attend Bible College, then my next post will be a Bible College confidential to give you more of an idea about what to expect.
Saturday 30 June 2018
Monday 25 June 2018
Violence is Never the Answer.
In my last blog post here, I started to look at some models of atonement which are older than Penal Substitution, the idea that Jesus' death on the cross somehow paid a price to make us at one with God. And what was interesting about all of those models is that they are all flawed in one way or another.
Now that we've lived with the idea of Penal Substitution for about five hundred years, maybe it's time for us to admit that it, too, is flawed.
I am in my fifth decade on God's green Earth, and in that time I've seen quite a few changes. I remember a time when we could smoke in pubs, when we didn't recycle everything, and being wedged in the boot (trunk for my transatlantic readers) of a car along with a half dozen other children on days out. I remember a time before seatbelt laws, before speed cameras, and when lunchtime drinking wasn't just the norm, but encouraged.
And I'm not nostalgic for those times at all, they were not the 'good old days'. How we survived that, let alone the Cold War and the threat of immanent nuclear destruction, is nothing short of a miracle. I am Gen X through and through, I am of the jilted generation and Rock and Roll is my epiphany, a culture of alienation, boredom, and despair.
The Cold War was the zeitgeist of my generation: To secure peace, we prepared for war.
Another great moment of nostalgia in my childhood was being smacked. Regularly.
If I break something accidentally, that's a smacking. If I say a bad word reserved only for adult use, that's a smacking. And heaven forbid I get into a fight on the school yard, that's definitely a smacking.
And there's a problem here. We teach children from an early age that the antidote to violence is more violence. That when they do something bad, they have to experience something bad. And this is problematic. This teaches that whoever is best at violence, whoever holds the biggest stick, is ultimately the source for good.
This ideology has followed us into the church, and it's affected how we see Jesus.
I'm not saying that we follow a warmonger Jesus, a God who is constantly stood there with a big stick waiting to beat us; this is far more subtle.
We sometimes fall into the trap of seeing a very bad thing in a very good light, because it has yielded a good result.
This is most prevalent in our understanding of the crucifixion.
I'm not going to go down the line which Steve Chalke did: That a God who punishes an innocent son for the wrongs of others is guilty of cosmic child abuse, and is lacking justice, there's been enough written about that already. If you're interested in that, go and Google it.
Instead I want us to think about the message of violence inherent in Penal Substitution and our fascination with the Cross. Is violence the ultimate answer to the problem of wrong? Did God take a bad thing and make it good? Can a wrong become a right?
When I read the message of Jesus, it doesn't seem very violent to me.
There is a time when Jesus drives animals out of the temple because they were being sold at extortionate prices and gouging pilgrims, and some people have used that to excuse their own violent desires. I am not going to tell you how to read the Bible, but I don't think that's the message was Jesus trying to give us there.
Instead I read a message of love and forgiveness. A Jesus who breaks down cultural barriers and works for a unity between Judea and Samaritans, modern day Israel and Palestine as it were. I read about a Jesus who when accosted by Roman soldiers told His would be protector to put away his sword. I read about a Jesus who when offered great power, and even an opportunity to defend Himself against hateful accusations, remains passive; preferring silent and peaceful protest.
I really do struggle to see a warrior King Jesus in the mould of other would be revolutionaries who came before Him. Jesus seems to embody changing the world through love, and compassion, and reconciliation.
Now you can accuse me of being a hippy-dippy pacifist, and that's okay, I forgive you. But that really is the Jesus I read about in the Gospels. Someone who teaches us that when an assailant smacks us on our right cheek, to offer them our left. Someone who teaches that when an occupation troop forces us to carry their pack one kilometre, we carry it two.
So why does this master plan of God change when it comes to crucifixion? Why does God demand a brutal and violent death for Jesus?
I don't think it does.
Let's change where we begin looking at crucifixion. Let's stop saying it's a good and let's start by saying what it is: The unjust killing of someone who promoted peace.
And let's add to that. Let's imagine that when Jesus spoke, people actually listened. That they did follow the way outlined in the Bible and turned their swords into ploughs. That people sat up and paid attention to Jesus message of peace and decided to follow Him. Does that mean that had Jesus been successful in His message that God would have failed to save mankind? Would God have forgiven humanity had we not killed Jesus?
These last points are a near impossibility with penal substitution. Had Jesus not been crucified, had we not doled out violence on a peaceful revolutionary, then Jesus would never have 'died for our sins'.
Would love have won had love won?
Maybe this is why we need to rethink Penal Substitution. Maybe we need to address the crucifixion for what it is. A violence over peace. And I'm not sure that violence is the message Jesus preached. So maybe the crucifixion isn't the end of the story, and it most definitely isn't.
The church has long held this view, that's why a little something called The Resurrection is so important. That's why the church meets on Sundays, to remember the resurrection and not the crucifixion.
And we're going to be looking at just what this means next time. Please do come back.
Now that we've lived with the idea of Penal Substitution for about five hundred years, maybe it's time for us to admit that it, too, is flawed.
I am in my fifth decade on God's green Earth, and in that time I've seen quite a few changes. I remember a time when we could smoke in pubs, when we didn't recycle everything, and being wedged in the boot (trunk for my transatlantic readers) of a car along with a half dozen other children on days out. I remember a time before seatbelt laws, before speed cameras, and when lunchtime drinking wasn't just the norm, but encouraged.
And I'm not nostalgic for those times at all, they were not the 'good old days'. How we survived that, let alone the Cold War and the threat of immanent nuclear destruction, is nothing short of a miracle. I am Gen X through and through, I am of the jilted generation and Rock and Roll is my epiphany, a culture of alienation, boredom, and despair.
The Cold War was the zeitgeist of my generation: To secure peace, we prepared for war.
Another great moment of nostalgia in my childhood was being smacked. Regularly.
If I break something accidentally, that's a smacking. If I say a bad word reserved only for adult use, that's a smacking. And heaven forbid I get into a fight on the school yard, that's definitely a smacking.
And there's a problem here. We teach children from an early age that the antidote to violence is more violence. That when they do something bad, they have to experience something bad. And this is problematic. This teaches that whoever is best at violence, whoever holds the biggest stick, is ultimately the source for good.
This ideology has followed us into the church, and it's affected how we see Jesus.
I'm not saying that we follow a warmonger Jesus, a God who is constantly stood there with a big stick waiting to beat us; this is far more subtle.
We sometimes fall into the trap of seeing a very bad thing in a very good light, because it has yielded a good result.
This is most prevalent in our understanding of the crucifixion.
I'm not going to go down the line which Steve Chalke did: That a God who punishes an innocent son for the wrongs of others is guilty of cosmic child abuse, and is lacking justice, there's been enough written about that already. If you're interested in that, go and Google it.
Instead I want us to think about the message of violence inherent in Penal Substitution and our fascination with the Cross. Is violence the ultimate answer to the problem of wrong? Did God take a bad thing and make it good? Can a wrong become a right?
When I read the message of Jesus, it doesn't seem very violent to me.
There is a time when Jesus drives animals out of the temple because they were being sold at extortionate prices and gouging pilgrims, and some people have used that to excuse their own violent desires. I am not going to tell you how to read the Bible, but I don't think that's the message was Jesus trying to give us there.
Instead I read a message of love and forgiveness. A Jesus who breaks down cultural barriers and works for a unity between Judea and Samaritans, modern day Israel and Palestine as it were. I read about a Jesus who when accosted by Roman soldiers told His would be protector to put away his sword. I read about a Jesus who when offered great power, and even an opportunity to defend Himself against hateful accusations, remains passive; preferring silent and peaceful protest.
I really do struggle to see a warrior King Jesus in the mould of other would be revolutionaries who came before Him. Jesus seems to embody changing the world through love, and compassion, and reconciliation.
Now you can accuse me of being a hippy-dippy pacifist, and that's okay, I forgive you. But that really is the Jesus I read about in the Gospels. Someone who teaches us that when an assailant smacks us on our right cheek, to offer them our left. Someone who teaches that when an occupation troop forces us to carry their pack one kilometre, we carry it two.
So why does this master plan of God change when it comes to crucifixion? Why does God demand a brutal and violent death for Jesus?
I don't think it does.
Let's change where we begin looking at crucifixion. Let's stop saying it's a good and let's start by saying what it is: The unjust killing of someone who promoted peace.
And let's add to that. Let's imagine that when Jesus spoke, people actually listened. That they did follow the way outlined in the Bible and turned their swords into ploughs. That people sat up and paid attention to Jesus message of peace and decided to follow Him. Does that mean that had Jesus been successful in His message that God would have failed to save mankind? Would God have forgiven humanity had we not killed Jesus?
These last points are a near impossibility with penal substitution. Had Jesus not been crucified, had we not doled out violence on a peaceful revolutionary, then Jesus would never have 'died for our sins'.
Would love have won had love won?
Maybe this is why we need to rethink Penal Substitution. Maybe we need to address the crucifixion for what it is. A violence over peace. And I'm not sure that violence is the message Jesus preached. So maybe the crucifixion isn't the end of the story, and it most definitely isn't.
The church has long held this view, that's why a little something called The Resurrection is so important. That's why the church meets on Sundays, to remember the resurrection and not the crucifixion.
And we're going to be looking at just what this means next time. Please do come back.
Spirituality Part 6
Changing for others
We've taken a nice little stroll through Spirituality for the past few months together, and I'd like to thank you all very much for our time together.
This is will be my last article on Spirituality for a while and it's possibly the most important. Together we've learned how to read the Bible and address how we feel about the passages we read, we've asked questions to why we might feel this way, we've learned that we'll all be different in our Spirituality, and we've taken on board the views of others when we reflect on how we might feel about things. Phew, we've done an awful lot. So how is this part the most important?
Spirituality can't exist in a vacuum. Just like my toys strewn across the floor of my childhood bedroom, the ones sucked up by the Hoover just aren't of any use to me. We need to get them out of there and back where they belong (not the toy box, just back on the floor where they can all play together).
One great tool in developing Spirituality is to write a letter. In letters we can spend hours explaining what we're feeling. In writing a letter to someone we're allowing ourselves to be known to another person, just as we've been trying to get to know ourselves.
Those of us who have taken the time to grow ourselves in journals and have actually taken a long, hard look at who we are, we're okay with sharing our lives and our thoughts with other people. This is one sign of spiritual growth. That we aren't afraid of who we are in God.
And writing a letter in itself can pose a problem. I used to be ashamed of my handwriting, it looked the same as when I was a schoolboy and used to have to put my finger between the words. But I knew how important it was to be able to share my thoughts and my life with others. So I undertook a great spiritual exercise. I practised writing every day so that I could send people letters. I didn't do this so that I would look fancy, I leave that to my barber and tailor, but because my handwriting was a barrier to my sharing with others.
I changed something about myself so that I could share myself with others.
And this is the most important part of our spiritual journey: It's not enough to recognise how we are, it's finding the strength to change those parts of ourselves so that we can be included in the lives of others. I'm not talking about self-improvement for our own sake here, like being able to run faster or give better quiz show answers, I'm talking about taking what we've learned of ourselves on our spiritual journey, and being brave enough to love other people. We might need to change, but we're all loved enough to face that together.
We've taken a nice little stroll through Spirituality for the past few months together, and I'd like to thank you all very much for our time together.
This is will be my last article on Spirituality for a while and it's possibly the most important. Together we've learned how to read the Bible and address how we feel about the passages we read, we've asked questions to why we might feel this way, we've learned that we'll all be different in our Spirituality, and we've taken on board the views of others when we reflect on how we might feel about things. Phew, we've done an awful lot. So how is this part the most important?
Spirituality can't exist in a vacuum. Just like my toys strewn across the floor of my childhood bedroom, the ones sucked up by the Hoover just aren't of any use to me. We need to get them out of there and back where they belong (not the toy box, just back on the floor where they can all play together).
One great tool in developing Spirituality is to write a letter. In letters we can spend hours explaining what we're feeling. In writing a letter to someone we're allowing ourselves to be known to another person, just as we've been trying to get to know ourselves.
Those of us who have taken the time to grow ourselves in journals and have actually taken a long, hard look at who we are, we're okay with sharing our lives and our thoughts with other people. This is one sign of spiritual growth. That we aren't afraid of who we are in God.
And writing a letter in itself can pose a problem. I used to be ashamed of my handwriting, it looked the same as when I was a schoolboy and used to have to put my finger between the words. But I knew how important it was to be able to share my thoughts and my life with others. So I undertook a great spiritual exercise. I practised writing every day so that I could send people letters. I didn't do this so that I would look fancy, I leave that to my barber and tailor, but because my handwriting was a barrier to my sharing with others.
I changed something about myself so that I could share myself with others.
And this is the most important part of our spiritual journey: It's not enough to recognise how we are, it's finding the strength to change those parts of ourselves so that we can be included in the lives of others. I'm not talking about self-improvement for our own sake here, like being able to run faster or give better quiz show answers, I'm talking about taking what we've learned of ourselves on our spiritual journey, and being brave enough to love other people. We might need to change, but we're all loved enough to face that together.
Spirituality Part 5
'Nothing is quite so absurd or profound as the notion of the Great I AM walking around with dirt between his toes.' RH Evans. (No Relation).
It's always impressive when an article opens with a quote. It implies that the author is well read, erudite, and understands impressive words like erudite. Definitely someone you'd want to read when pondering spirituality. We've been looking for a while now on developing spirituality as reflective practice of teaching meeting experience. How we feel when we experience things which challenge our conventional thought, our teaching. And this is a wonderful thing to do, we'll be coming back to it next time, I think. But sometimes, our own experiences are very small.
For the past few weeks, I've been encouraging you to write down all the things you feel when you encounter Bible verses that might challenge you, or cheer you, and to ask why you feel that way. Now I have to admit, this isn't my idea, I'm only a sub-genius at best. People have been doing this sort of thing for years and years, and some times these writings get published as books. Books are great. I love books. I used to work in a bookshop I love them so much. And I read a bit, usually a book a week. It's wonderful because I get to experience other peoples experiences, and they can often say things so much better than I can. Those people are really erudite (How many of you have reached for your dictionary yet?).
One book I read recently, and the one which I borrowed the quote at the start from, is Faith Unravelled, by Rachel Held Evans (no relation). It's a book which is exactly what we've been looking at these past months. Evans writes about dealing with those troubling verses in the Bible and how they jive or jar with the world around her. And it's so easy to read too. I'd encourage all of you to pick up a copy. Other books are available of course, and I'd encourage you to read those too.
Books give us an insight into the lives of others, in a far better way than when we twitch our net curtains. In books, authors share their process of growth, the small things which have made them who they are today, the challenges in their lives which have developed their character. We may never walk a mile in their shoes and be able to judge them, but we can borrow their shoes for a short while and learn to empathise.
So please don't be afraid to add reading to your spiritual process. You'll learn a lot about other people, and through that, you'll probably learn a lot about yourself. You'll also get great quotes to put in letters and people will think you're erudite. And speaking of letters, that's coming next time.
It's always impressive when an article opens with a quote. It implies that the author is well read, erudite, and understands impressive words like erudite. Definitely someone you'd want to read when pondering spirituality. We've been looking for a while now on developing spirituality as reflective practice of teaching meeting experience. How we feel when we experience things which challenge our conventional thought, our teaching. And this is a wonderful thing to do, we'll be coming back to it next time, I think. But sometimes, our own experiences are very small.
For the past few weeks, I've been encouraging you to write down all the things you feel when you encounter Bible verses that might challenge you, or cheer you, and to ask why you feel that way. Now I have to admit, this isn't my idea, I'm only a sub-genius at best. People have been doing this sort of thing for years and years, and some times these writings get published as books. Books are great. I love books. I used to work in a bookshop I love them so much. And I read a bit, usually a book a week. It's wonderful because I get to experience other peoples experiences, and they can often say things so much better than I can. Those people are really erudite (How many of you have reached for your dictionary yet?).
One book I read recently, and the one which I borrowed the quote at the start from, is Faith Unravelled, by Rachel Held Evans (no relation). It's a book which is exactly what we've been looking at these past months. Evans writes about dealing with those troubling verses in the Bible and how they jive or jar with the world around her. And it's so easy to read too. I'd encourage all of you to pick up a copy. Other books are available of course, and I'd encourage you to read those too.
Books give us an insight into the lives of others, in a far better way than when we twitch our net curtains. In books, authors share their process of growth, the small things which have made them who they are today, the challenges in their lives which have developed their character. We may never walk a mile in their shoes and be able to judge them, but we can borrow their shoes for a short while and learn to empathise.
So please don't be afraid to add reading to your spiritual process. You'll learn a lot about other people, and through that, you'll probably learn a lot about yourself. You'll also get great quotes to put in letters and people will think you're erudite. And speaking of letters, that's coming next time.
Spirituality Part 4
I'm a Welsh boy. In case you haven't noticed, we like our mams. You could even say that most of us are mammy's boys. Thackeray in Vanity Fair wrote Mother is the name of God in the lips and hearts of little children. Maybe he was Welsh too.
I also have a suspicion that maybe Jesus is a bit more Welsh than we've been lead to believe.
I've been looking at a phrase Jesus uses in the Gospels, that God is like a Mother hen, gathering Her chicks under Her wing. God's followers being represented by little spring chicks in this case. And that got me thinking. Of all the ways we picture God, how many of us would have come to the same conclusion that Jesus did, that God is a Mother hen? And Jesus does seem to know an awful lot about God, what with being God and the Son of God simultaneously and all. So back to what we've been looking at with spirituality being where teaching meets experience, how does this image of God make you feel?
At first your feelings may be of warmth and protection. Your next feelings however might be that of astonishment, you may even be aghast: God is being portrayed in the feminine. Hopefully you've all been following this article for the past few months and you're in the habit of writing down how you feel when you read a passage from the Bible. You are allowed to feel you know. So now it's time to do something else, ask something a little more self reflective. Why do I feel this way?
You should already have a list of Bible verses and how they make you feel, and here's a great opportunity to revisit them and ask the same question. And I'm going to share just a little of my experience of doing this with Jesus describing God as a Mother hen. I feel protection from this image, because I can relate to it far more than the overtly male ideas of God as Father. Growing up, it was just me and my mother, and I'll always be grateful to her for everything she has done for me. Not having a positive father figure in my life means that the Mother hen idea is far more personal and relatable. A Mother hen isn't absent or violent, doesn't let me down when I need something. A Mother hen holds her chicks close and keeps them warm. And these are the very feelings Jesus is trying to convey about God. As I've already said, Jesus knows an awful lot about God.
How does this apply to our spirituality? Well for me, it shows how God can be different, and in my wanting to reflect God to the world, it shows how I can be different too. Too often we get caught up in the judgemental idea of God, but reflecting on why we are drawn to certain parts of the Bible, and why we respond the way we do to them, can show us the things we value, and the values we want to show.
I also have a suspicion that maybe Jesus is a bit more Welsh than we've been lead to believe.
I've been looking at a phrase Jesus uses in the Gospels, that God is like a Mother hen, gathering Her chicks under Her wing. God's followers being represented by little spring chicks in this case. And that got me thinking. Of all the ways we picture God, how many of us would have come to the same conclusion that Jesus did, that God is a Mother hen? And Jesus does seem to know an awful lot about God, what with being God and the Son of God simultaneously and all. So back to what we've been looking at with spirituality being where teaching meets experience, how does this image of God make you feel?
At first your feelings may be of warmth and protection. Your next feelings however might be that of astonishment, you may even be aghast: God is being portrayed in the feminine. Hopefully you've all been following this article for the past few months and you're in the habit of writing down how you feel when you read a passage from the Bible. You are allowed to feel you know. So now it's time to do something else, ask something a little more self reflective. Why do I feel this way?
You should already have a list of Bible verses and how they make you feel, and here's a great opportunity to revisit them and ask the same question. And I'm going to share just a little of my experience of doing this with Jesus describing God as a Mother hen. I feel protection from this image, because I can relate to it far more than the overtly male ideas of God as Father. Growing up, it was just me and my mother, and I'll always be grateful to her for everything she has done for me. Not having a positive father figure in my life means that the Mother hen idea is far more personal and relatable. A Mother hen isn't absent or violent, doesn't let me down when I need something. A Mother hen holds her chicks close and keeps them warm. And these are the very feelings Jesus is trying to convey about God. As I've already said, Jesus knows an awful lot about God.
How does this apply to our spirituality? Well for me, it shows how God can be different, and in my wanting to reflect God to the world, it shows how I can be different too. Too often we get caught up in the judgemental idea of God, but reflecting on why we are drawn to certain parts of the Bible, and why we respond the way we do to them, can show us the things we value, and the values we want to show.
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