How the church hurts normal people, and why family services don't help.

About four or five years ago, I can't remember exactly, at my church we stopped advertising a family service. We still have the same number of families, we just don't advertise a family service.

This might sound odd to many churches who want nothing more than nice, happy families filling their pews, but it's quite unhelpful. You see, I only have one 'family' at church, mam, dad, three kids. So what does that make all the others who come?

Family is a loaded term, it implies a normality of a nuclear family which doesn't always exist.

What of the single mums? What of the ladies who bring children of their partners who aren't their own? What of the unmarried parents? The never married singletons? The divorced who might not want to be reminded that they are separated from their family?

If only there was a term which showed their position without the connotations (I am not going to say positive or negative) associated with family. They are still families, but they feel excluded by much of what churches preach.

If I take myself and my wife as an example. We have been together almost quarter of a century and married over twenty years. Because we've chosen to be childless, does that mean that we aren't a family? I don't think so, but for some reason churches seem to think that we are incomplete. That two people who love each other very much, who enjoy taking mini breaks to visit museums and art galleries, who pursue shared and separate interests, are somehow less of a family just because we don't have children; that bothers me.

At many churches, while we wouldn't be excluded from a 'family' service, we rarely find ourselves catered for. Neither would most of my congregation. We get it, children are important, and we would love to have families come, what we aren't prepared to do however is normalise the nuclear family to the extent that all others feel excluded.

And this is a real issue. As a pastor I have had to deal with many cases of people excluded from church, not deliberately, but because of the intense focus on how important families are.

Dysfunctional families (what a horrible phrase) used to be an oddity. I remember the trepidation my mother faced church with when she turned up as a single mam. But that was in the late 80's and early 90's. The church should be equipped to deal with this by now, to accept that just because they are used to the 'normal' of the 1950's that we are dealing with people several generations later, for whom there is a whole new normal.

There's another danger with the ruthless praise of the nuclear family by churches. Not only are we marginalising those in new-normal lifestyles, but the unspoken idea has pressured wives to remaining in abusive relationships. The pressure to present as a happily married couple with two point four children has made couples rush into parenthood when they simply weren't ready for it.

I have had to pastor far too many people who have had their lives ruined by the constant peer pressure of well meaning churches.

To those of you who have been directly affected by this, please take my heartfelt apology. This is not what Christianity is. It's not a stick to beat you into submission with. And if you're currently in a church and you feel this way, please do note that those doors swing both ways. No young woman or man should ever feel pressured into marriage by their church, just to 'fit in'. Neither should any couple feel pressured into starting a family just so that your pastor can add to the youth group.

To those of you who are living in the new-normal, you are not dysfunctional. You are who God planned you to be. You may be making a go of it on your own, or with your children. And you're amazing for doing so. You've got enough on your plate and church should give you the space, and the support, to breath freely.

And to churches. It's easy to accommodate everyone. We just accept that while we were busy with our noses in the past, the whole world moved on without us. And if that seems scary, just think that it's going to happen again tomorrow, and the next day too. Our society is more fluid in many ways than it ever has been.

So let's get with the flow. Let's stop pressuring people that men should be the bread winner and women stay at home. Let's stop assuming that every woman wants to be a wife. Let's acknowledge that many people are complete as one.

Let's shift our focus from one that was, to the wonderful people who have been brought into our care by God. Our role is not to change them into conformity, but to allow them to experience the great love of Jesus in their new-normality.

Amen.

A pastor is not a super hero.

Being a pastor is great, we get to steer people through their spiritual life and share in our most intimate moments. It's great because we love people. Honestly, people are the number one reason to being a pastor. Some people thinks it's because we love God.

I don't love God any more than you do, but I might just love you more than you do. And that's what motivates me, you and the billions of people just like you, all loved by God, all wanting a better relationship with yourselves, each other, and God.

And sometimes we fail. Quite often we fail to be fair. It can be an unfortunate miscommunication, something misunderstood. And then there are the times when circumstances conspire against us and we feel like the biggest baddies on the planet, Darth Vader has nothing on me some days.

'I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread upon my dreams.' Yeats.

This poem, these lines, they've been on my mind all week. I love people, and acknowledge that all of humanity is created in the image of God. So when someone approached me wanting to use my church for a support group for adults with autism, I was elated. A sanctuary, a safe place, where people can be made whole. This is what pastors live for, well I do at least.

I wanted with everything within me to support them. It's something I am not called or equipped to do. I teach Bible stuff, I write blogs on theology and God stuff. So to find people with a real passion and ability to meet the real and pressing needs of people is just amazing. I wanted with everything within me to support them. Unfortunately, I am not a super hero, and some things are just beyond my ability.

I have a small chapel, we have two rooms, a nave or sanctuary, and a small kitchen to make tea and coffee in. The deal with safeguarding, which we have to take seriously, is that whenever children or vulnerable adults are present, there has to be a minimum of two adults to a room. This makes perfect sense, the protection of children and vulnerable adults has to be a priority, and however much I trust the people I fellowship with, the safeguarding rules are there for a reason and have to be adhered to.

And then a group come, wanting to show the love of God to vulnerable adults who desperately need it, and I cannot accommodate them because they don't have enough adults to comply with our safeguarding policy.

It sounds odd, that the work of God and the love of God is derailed due to bureaucracy. And it makes me feel like such a failure.

I want so much to see everyone included, everyone welcome into the Kingdom of God, I want to be like Jesus and embrace the leper and the marginalised. But red tape prevents me. And in one way, I am so glad that it does.

I have been doing church a long time, a lot longer than the current safeguarding policies have been in place. Years ago we thought nothing of picking a load of kids up and giving them a lift to youth services or worship practice, but times have changed.

When we read about sex scandals in churches, and the young victims who have fallen pray to once trusted degenerates, we can't help but understand why trust in the church has been eroded. Whatever we can do to rebuild that trust has to be our priority.

Then there's the finance issue. A group using a church three days a week means money, it's a horrible thing to discuss, but heating, lighting, electricity, it all costs. In order to cover those costs I have to charge enough that the group in question will struggle to pay its volunteers. I hate having to put money before the well being of others, I feel quite mercenary. The truth is that a great many churches are struggling to keep the lights on, especially those of us who are independent so that we can work towards an inclusive environment which focusses on the marginalised and dispossessed.

My church is in one of the most impoverished areas of the UK with massive unemployment and an ageing population. Exactly the area that a project like this is most needed.

And I can't fund it, and I am the reason that a small start up project can't get off the ground.

When I think of the people I am unable to help when they reach out to me, I cry buckets. I would love to say 'yes' to everyone who shows Gods love to creation. But it's unrealistic, and it shows me just how humble I am, and how sometimes I have step on the dreams of another.

These aren't decisions I enjoy having to make, and I feel rotten. I feel like I have failed because I have protected my pulpit at the expense of people.

I have always tried to be honest in these blogs, and I'm not looking for sympathy. I feel called to this life of ministry and I have to live with the realities of modern living just the same as you do.

So please just remember, your pastor is not a super hero, we can't wave a magic wand and make everything easy. I wish that I could. And decisions like this hurt us more than you know.

Hopefully this will give you some insight to what it is we do in a week, we work more than just a Sunday. And if you can help out with your local church, I have no doubt that your pastor will be more than eager to hear from you.

God bless.

Loving, hurting, Lupus, and healing.

I hear a lot of Christians say that there are three people in their marriage: Two partners and Jesus.

While my wife and I appreciate that sentiment, ours is a marriage of three different people: Two partners and Lupus.

My wife describes her Lupus is that the micro organisms in her body which are supposed to attack the bad things that can affect a body, like the common cold, are working overtime in attacking her. They have locked on to the wrong target, and her body thinks itself the illness it needs to fight. Image the worst cold you've ever had, the lethargy, the exhaustion, how your limbs and joints ache. That is how my wife feels every moment of every day. And that's just on a good day. Other days it affects her breathing, she can't get out of bed for more than an hour at a time. And her mind is constantly having to manage the pain, this means that any energy she might have is being diverted to her mental faculties, just so that she can do the basic things which we all take for granted.

All of this is invisible, of course.

Thankfully, for the most part it's managed with medication. It has take over a year to find the right mix of fifteen pills a day. Good days are just exhausting, but she can get out of bed.

One of the worst things with Lupus, and many illnesses like it, is that it will never go away. It will need to be managed for the rest of her life. And really, for the rest of our lives. Lupus will always be the third person in our marriage.

On the practical side of things, it means that making plans are difficult. There are numerous times where we've arranged to go out for a day as a couple with only me turning up flying solo, her needing a day in bed.

To some people this is abhorrent: How on Earth could I go out for the day and leave my wife in awful pain? Simple really, we are used to it by now. Yes it was strange at first, and we cancelled far more engagements than we attended. But then we developed a new normal. We agree with the people we're meeting that either one or both of us will show up.

None of this was easy to discover, this new normal. It took us a while, but we have found what works for us. This doesn't mean that the times my wife is really ill that I go wandering off because I have made other plans, of course not. It just means that what's normal for many couples, isn't normal for us. And our friends are accommodating.

Then Christianity rears its head. I am a pastor with over a decade of experience, I have a degree in theology from a good university, and I get invited all over the country to preach and teach, and my wife has played a huge part in every step of that. Yet people judge us for our 'lack of faith'. Why can't we just 'pray it away'?

We feel at times like Jesus, being told 'Physician, heal yourself.' And believe me, we've tried. We tried until we got to the point where we stopped praying that, and started to thank God for the wonderful new normal we have been given.

Like many of you, we used to live life at a hundred miles an hour. God decided that we had to live the slow life instead. To change our priorities. And to understand better just what it means to suffer. And we both do suffer. Yes it's she who suffers the pain, and that has brought its own lessons. And I suffer with her. Not just watching my wife struggle through the day, and that one is massive. I cannot tell you how many times I've prayed that God would give me her pain as an exchange, I would rather take it on myself than to watch my wife go through this.

I too am often exhausted just with the number of hospital appointments we have to attend (driving is difficult for her), and then trying to catch up on work those times when she is comfortable and doesn't need my attention.

Please don't think that we have a bad life, I do hope that I am not saying that. Our life is wonderful. We have the sort of relation which others have described as 'couple goals'. Apparently we're really cute, a bit like Samwise Gamgee and Rosie Cotton. We have amazing friends who completely understand if plans change at the last minute. And I am writing this while we're taking some time away to visit a very dear friend, having returned from a trip to the Ashmolean to see an exhibit on American Modern Art, life doesn't get any better. My wife managed to take some great photos of Oxford, and even climbed to the top of the tower in Abingdon for even more great photos (you can see them on Instagram @allardevans). I would hesitate to say that our lives are probably better than yours.

And that is the great gift God has given us. And I know that I am not alone in this. I have been collecting similar stories of this 'new normal' that God gives through the blessing of sickness, and I intend to unpack some of the theology of sickness over the next few entries here.

So please, do read this as an introduction, there's a lot more to come, and let it comfort you in knowing that illness isn't an end, just a wonderful opportunity for a new normal in God.

Why we stop praying.

I wrote recently about my experience at Bible College, and that I stopped praying.

I didn't 'stop' exactly, but my prayer life changed in the strangest of ways.

I am going to tell you a little bit of my story, and then I'll tell you the experiences of others as they have explained them to me.

I remember, many moons ago, when I still had some dark hair, visiting my placement minister during my first year of Bible College. We sat down for a cuppa, he inquired after my college work and preaching schedule, and then he dropped this bombshell on me:

How's your prayer life?

It was a question I was both dreading and needing to be asked.

My prayer life was in the gutter.

I had always been good at prayer. I would spend an hour almost every night, sat in my front room with a candle and some relaxing music (William Orbit, Pieces In A Modern Style is still my favourite for this), and just focus on God, allowing the great feeling of oneness to surround me. The return to the womb of a Heavenly mother embraced me. Prayer time was great.

I had long passed the time of seeing prayer time as an opportunity to just ask God for things, or to just 'get blessed', prayer was a time to reflect on the things of God in my life, to allow myself to be probed and challenged.

I thought I had a handle on it.

So when I was asked by my placement minister how my prayer life was, and I had to admit that it had become non-existent in the spate of six months, I thought this would be the beginning of the end. That I had failed as a Christian, and that I would be shown the door from Bible college. Why would anyone want a minister who couldn't pray?

I would try all the same things that I had always done, I spent my hour in silence, I lit my candle, but nothing. I was sat in silence alone.

What happened next was one of the strangest conversations I have ever had. My minister told me that he already knew.

Where I was was concerned, now I am in panic. Someone so spiritual had been told by God about my ailing prayer life, the Spirit had communicated to him that I wasn't fit for ministry. Then he said this:

'It happens to all of us, and I have never had a successful candidate for ministry who hasn't said the same thing.'

And he was right. Every successful ministerial candidate I have ever spoken to has said the same thing. We feel a distance from God that we have never experienced before.

It would be lovely to say that this is fleeting, that once I had finished training and settled into the rhythm of ministry that it all came back. Sadly this isn't the case, for myself or for anyone else I speak with. Instead our prayer lives have changed into something unrecognisable.

There's a distance to God now because I have become aware at how distant God is. God is higher than I had ever conceived. And God has called me to reach new heights in prayer.

Prayer isn't that thing I do for one hour a night, it's not just saying the Our Father before sleep, or grace over dinner. Prayer is a conversation I entered with God a decade ago, and we have never stopped talking. And I've still yet to have a straight answer.

Of course there's a reason for this. The minute I 'understand', or 'know' God, that's the minute God ceases to be God and becomes my understanding.

Often times this conversation becomes quite animated. I have found myself walking to and fro in my back garden for an hour, to all the world it must seem that I am talking to myself. Instead I am learning how tentative my grasp on all things Godly is. I get a million and one questions from God and every answer I give seems to be wrong, or at least not fully right.

And here's the strange thing. I wouldn't change this state of confusion. Or to put it another way, felling lost in wonder, love, and praise.

I have been doing ministry for years now, and I have been privileged to have similar conversations with other candidates, always in their first year of training, and they always have the same feelings.

Usually, just knowing that you're not alone in this struggle is comfort enough. Most people work through the distance and into a new, different prayer life. But there are some who can't.

I am always saddened when I remember those I trained with who, when the silence came, reverted back to their old model of prayer and didn't press in with God. They are no longer in ministry. And this does sadden me.

God called them to step out of the boat, to step into a new frontier, and they chose the comfort of the familiar.

For those of you in ministry, this will all sound familiar. For those of you hoping to enter ministry, please take these words to heart and be aware of what is ahead of you. And for everyone else, you also may well find your own prayer life change, you may find your own distance from God. This is not your failing, but your own preparation. Take comfort from know that God is calling you to become lost, in wonder, love, and praise.

Bible College Confidential

So you've not been dissuaded from Bible College after my last post? Well good for you. Welcome to a whole new world, this time without magic carpets.

I hated Bible college, so much so that I went twice, to two different ones. And while the experience is different for each place, there are some things which I would advise you to be aware of, and a few questions you might need to ask.

Are you getting a degree? We can discuss forever the necessity, or lack of, in getting a degree to go into ministry. But if you're going to spend three years studying, you might as well get a degree while you're at it. It can only serve you well.

This might sound like an odd question but there are still Bible colleges out there who aren't accredited, where they will validate you as a minister, and the denomination will recognise you, but if you ever want to look at a different line of work or even a different denomination, you'll be a bit stuck.

Get a degree.

What type of degree will you getting? Myself, I have a BTh honours. What that means is that I know quite a bit about theology, but very little about anything else. And when was the last time you looked in a newspaper and saw an advert saying 'Theologian Wanted'?

If it's offered, a BTh is a useful degree to have because you'll be mainly studying Christian Theology. You'll have classes on church history and the development of Christian though, how to handle the Bible and the different approaches to understanding it. Classes on good pastoral practice, knowing why worship has changed and how to spot 'good' worship. You'll get to spend a good bit of time in the Ancient Near East and learn about the world in which the Bible was written.

And, of course, theology. Lots and lots of theology.

If you decide to do a BA in Religious Studies, then things change, sometimes dramatically.

I have friends with BA's and they studied Islam, and Jainism, and the Gnostics. They didn't get taught the pastoral practices because, well, that's not usually a part of the course. So while there is crossover, the BA course is usually designed for Religious Studies teachers, or those looking to go into fields where an ethical background, and often an understanding of religion, is most helpful.

The study of religion, and theology, are two quite different things.

The other big thing to prepare for when you do go off to Bible college is that you will change.

I remember one lecturer telling me that Theology was the one subject where the students turn up thinking they know more than the lecturers.

You're familiar with your church and your church culture, you're happy there, it meets your needs and you're enthused. That much is obvious because you're going to Bible College.

Here's the skinny. Your church is not the only one, and there are different ways of doing things.

You'll meet loads of new people, and every one of them will think that their way of doing God is the right way.

Then you'll be told about ways of understanding the Bible, and understanding God, that you've never heard of before. And it'll shake you to your core. Everything that you've held dear to you will be challenged and you'll have a crisis of faith.

This is the process of deconstruction. And hopefully, if the college is a good one, there will also be a process of reconstruction.

The best students, I've found, are those who are willing to let go of their prejudices and preferences, and to be moulded anew. And you don't yet know that you hold these preferences, how could you? You've not been exposed to the whole world of Christian ideas that you will be.

Be prepared to stop praying. This will sound odd, and I intent to write a good bit more on this subject soon because it comes up so much whenever I am dealing with students.

It's okay, and everyone feels this way, and there's nothing wrong with you spiritually.

You'll be in a process of deconstruction, and you'll need to go through this, and it will affect your prayer life. I am not going to say that you'll get back to where you were, you'll be praying differently because you'll be a different person.

Bible college should be a process. Don't rush it. If you have the option to be there for three years then take it. You need the time to change and to settle into the person God will make you through the process. And when you do finish, you still aren't the finished product. To be honest, that's only the start. Until recently the rate of attrition for new ministers was something like 50% in the first three years of ministry. It's hard to even get a church to take you on, and you'll probably jump at the opportunity when one is presented. I have met far too many ministers who have gone to a good church only to find out that it's not the right church for them.

There is so much more to say on this subject, but I am going to save that for another time.

God Bless.

Immigration, polite racism, and the 'From From' question.

I see a lot of talk in the news at the moment about immigration, and I see a lot of talk in the Bible about it too. For some reason, a lot of Christians don't seem to like the Biblical model.
There is a pretty clear outline for dealing with immigration in Leviticus, and it goes something like this: 33 “When a stranger sojourns with you in your land, you shall not do him wrong. 34 You shall treat the stranger who sojourns with you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God.”

Sounds quite different to 'send them back', and 'build a wall', and 'let's lock their children in cages and terrify them'.
I am aware that I'm comparing Bible times to modern times, but however good your interpretation, they sound to be the exact opposite, at least to me anyway.

A lot has to do with power, believe it or not. The Bible is reminding its people how they were once immigrants, how they were not the original occupiers of a land. And that's an interesting time. When someone doesn't have power, they want to be treated fairly, they can see the faults in the system and they make promises that, should they ever get into power, then things will be different. Things will be fairer.
In just a short time, that all changes. The people of the Bible get into power and treat others just the way they were treated, even knowing how much it hurt them.

I find some of these racist arguments quite absurd. I'm not saying that it's humorous, indeed no, for the people who are suffering their suffering is quite serious, real, and painful. What I mean is that the people who hold these views are usually quite ignorant of history.
Being Welsh, I find the idea of the English Defence League (or whatever they are calling themselves these days) to be quite deficient in their understanding of history. The English, those of Saxon or Bretton origins, telling 'foreigners' that they aren't welcome in the Celtic homeland.
As I just mentioned, I am Welsh. In my native tongue it's Cymru. Welsh is an old Saxon word meaning 'foreigner'. Yes, when the Saxons invaded they called the natives 'foreigners'.

And then, of course, there's the Americas. It wasn't empty when Columbus, an Italian sailing from Spain, so quite a bit of Latin and Hispanic connections there, 'discovered' it.
The Trail of Tears and Manifest Destiny can attest to that.
And yet at the moment a lot of people with European ancestry are getting their knickers in a twist because some people with slightly redder skin than theirs are trying to make a better life for their families.

Of course the attitudes towards those of African descent cannot, and never should be, underplayed. Either forced to work the land as cheap labour (i.e. slave labour) or invited as with the Windrush generation, once given the least bit of equality find themselves no longer welcome, or 'uninvited'. It does seem as though we are placing power and wealth over people.

No one blog, especially this one, can even come close to solving the immigration issue, all I'm asking is, for you who read this, to stop for a while and consider the above verse from the Bible and just to check if how you speak, and how you vote, reflects any part of the above commandment.

The type of racism we see in the news is somewhat obvious, and I have no doubt that you good people reading this would have anything to do with that. What we don't always spot is the polite racism. Or the 'from from' question.
University is a great place, it's a wonderful mixing pot of people from all over the country, and often other countries too. It's not an uncommon question to ask someone: 'Where are you from?'.
I get asked it a lot, and when I hear different accents, I will ask that question myself. The issue comes when dealing with people of a different skin colour, because I have never heard this conversation with anyone who is white.
Where are you from?
London
But where are you from from?
London is one of the largest and most diverse cities in the world. Is it that hard to believe that someone born there might be black?
The danger with this question is that we automatically imply that person just doesn't belong in Britain. Remember what I said earlier about the meaning of the word Welsh? We're doing just the same thing.

There's a chap I speak with often at my local coffee shop. Us locals know him, he's hard to miss, he's the only black man living within a two mile radius. We stop and chat about music since he's a DJ on a regional radio hosting the soul music hour.
He's a little bit older than I am and he remembers well the Sus Laws, where black youths would routinely be stopped and searched. Things haven't changed that much only he is no longer a youth so he faces it slightly less frequently. And he was born right here in Wales. His family moved to London where he was repeatedly asked the question: Where are you from?
He was also repeatedly harassed by the police when his answer was Wales. He had never been to Jamaica, where his grandparents were born. He had never lived anywhere outside the UK, neither had his parents. And yet he was always made to feel like an outsider.

It's only something little, but the little things make a big difference in peoples lives.
Maybe we aren't able to change the big immigration issue, but it's easy to not ask the 'from from' question.
I hope this helps just a little, and if you've come across any such 'from from' questions, please do feel free to tell me about them.

God bless.