Pine needles

One of the frustrating things about the Christmas season, or rather the post-Christmas season, is dealing with the pine needles that fall from the Christmas tree; a problem that doesn't disappear even when the tree you own is artificial.  Pine needles are an awkward remnant of that happy season, dark green debris from an otherwise sparkling sculpture that symbolizes the arrival of Christmas and its departure; a reminder of another moment passed; and, there is a certain melancholy attached to their arrangement on carpet or laminate floor when the festivities are ended and decorations gone.  

The fact of dealing with pine needles - real or fake - is not helped by their stubbornness.  I have a particularly ineffective vacuum cleaner that inhales rather weakly at the best of times.  [With a not too dissimilar demeanour to the robot from Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy,] it's almost as if it takes one look at the carpet and thinks 'why bother'.  For this is the place where young children and animals roam, and countless amounts of dirt is walked in from the kitchen and hall-way.  

No, it takes a fair amount of time and determination to deal with this mess, and how so for other areas of life.  Sometimes it seems inevitable: the wear and tear, and aging, and deterioration, and depreciation.  

This prevalent desperation and damage need not be the final answer however for those for whom Christmas is vitally important.  It is part beginning part culmination of a glorious promise, a holy moment when the divine draws imminently near, when God in fullness reveals God in creation and applies God for our cleansing and salvation.  Dreams like flowers fade, grass withers, and creation wears out like a garment, but nothing is impossible with God.  Praise God for Jesus Christ!

Fallen Eucalyptus

Something strange happened in my garden the other day.  There was a eucalyptus tree lying in the grass in a place where you wouldn’t normally expect a eucalyptus tree to be.  It turns out the eucalyptus tree took a disliking to the snow in December 2010.  Months later when spring arrived, the tree decided not to bother putting out leaves, preferring to remain asleep.  Eventually the tree died, and that was that.  But in the last couple of years, shoots have started to emerge from the roots bringing forth a spray of fresh silver eucalyptus leaves.  Now the old tree trunk has given way and collapsed, but new life is emerging.

As I looked through my kitchen window at the fallen tree, I sensed God speaking.  There are of course many verses in Scripture that talk of growth from nothing, and life from death.  Famously Isaiah talks about a shoot ‘from the stump of Jesse’ as he prophesies about Jesus.  In the context of his death and resurrection, Jesus says that a grain of wheat must fall to the ground and die in order to bear fruit.  And so it is for those who follow Christ.  To receive God’s life we must die to self, and there begins the wrestling match between our old self and the new creation.  Not only between old ways and habits and the fresh living actions of being a disciple of Jesus, but also between old experiences and ingrained emotional responses and the freedom and joy of life in Christ.

When I saw the tree on the ground I thought, ‘Oh great! More work, I’ve got a tree to saw’.  When we give our lives to Jesus, in the words of Paul, ‘the old has gone, the new is here!’ – but occasionally dead branches and sticks still poke us in the eye.  We need to deal with the debris.  Jesus breaks off the branches that bear no fruit.  This is part of God’s healing.  Healing which, I believe, we all need to one degree or another.  

Church After Christendom

Finished reading Stuart Murray's, Church After Christendom, another one of the titles in the Paternoster Post-Christendom series.  Throughout the book, Murray wrestles with the questions: Does the church have a future with the disappearance of Christendom from the cultural landscape of the modern West?  And secondly, if the church does survive, to what extent might it emerge or evolve from traditional inherited models?  Part One, addresses how the church post-Christendom might come about, and Part Two, what it might look like.

Overall Murray raises more questions than he answers, but from his careful analysis some helpful pointers emerge.  The opening chapter on 'Belonging/Believing/Behaving' is quite grounded and offers insight on how the sociological aspects of Christian community intersect with faith.  Murray acknowledges the inevitable dichotomy between expectations of inherited patterns of mission and discipleship and the mood of prevailing culture.  He writes, 'Churches - whether understood as institutions, buildings or congregations - will be culturally alien in post-Christendom' (p. 24) [...] 'Imaginative, courageous and culturally attuned churches will be needed to connect with those who are now alienated and distant from church' (p. 26)  

Murray then sets out the benefits of a 'Centre-set' model of church - clear Gospel vision and values at the core with permeable boundaries around the edges drawing people inwards (for a full definition, see p. 29. It would be interesting to see some trinitarian theological reflection on the 'Centre-set' model vis-a-vis the alternatives - cf. Robyn Greenwood (2009), p. 52ff)  Murray also addresses the issue of conversion, catechesis and discipleship stating rather provocatively, 'In a sceptical culture, faith must be lived if it is to be believed' (p. 34).

This chapter gives way to a fascinating discussion about why people join and leave churches - a good read for anyone involved in church leadership.  He suggests five 'components' are essential.  People stay in:

• Churches that cultivate an earthed spirituality where people encounter God.
• Churches that nurture authentic friendships and healthy community.
• Churches that hold deep convictions but are unfazed by questions and doubts.
• Churches that are open-edged and engage with contemporary culture.
• Churches that stimulate faith at every stage on the journey. (p. 64)

In two further chapters, Murray drills into the question of 'will the post-Christendom church emerge or will it evolve?'  Broadly, he concludes that a creative dialogue is needed between new emerging churches and inherited churches to share best practice.  Both have expertise to offer, both need each other.  He quotes Leith Anderson: '... 98% of our behaviour is rooted in one tradition or another.  Those who operate at the 99% level are considered to be old fashioned traditionalists, and those who operate at the 97% level are called avant-garde traditionalists...' (p. 112)

While I found the point of this two-fold exploration rather dull, the survey of the emerging church movement in all its forms is one of the best I have come across - it contains plenty of ideas.  Murray concludes by noting some critical issues for emerging churches such as the need for ongoing theological reflection about their life and purpose, the need to be culturally attuned and yet counter-cultural, and the question of sustainability. 

In Part Two, Murray discusses 'what kind of church can survive and flourish in post-Christendom'.  He begins with Mission, arguing that 'Mission, not church is the starting point' (p. 137), then moves onto 'community,' and lastly, 'worship', noting that Christendom churches usually tackle these subjects the other way round.  

In the chapter on Mission, Murray flags the need for a view of mission that permeates every aspect of church life including structures and finances (pp. 139-144).  There is then an interesting discussion about mission and contemporary culture, and whether the so-called post-modern world-view offers a legitimate lens through which to understand the task.  Last, he considers the path of process evangelism and the challenge of 'Evangelism' as a church activity.  The chapter on Community and building healthy churches and a harmonious Church is helpful.  I like the sound of the Fit4Life resource produced by the Baptist Union in Victoria (p. 173).  

Continuing the notion that a multi-voiced ecclessiology is need post-Christendom,  Murray tackles the subject of worship (cf. also Kreider & Kreider (2009).  He notes, in future, worship needs to be 'authentic': 

• embracing the unity and diversity of styles; 
• centred and de-centred - by this he means an appropriate balance between being led from the front and led from within);
• culturally attuned and counter cultural (My favourite quote from the book: 'The path to counter cultural worship runs through culturally-attuned worship' (p. 199); and
• creative and sustainable.

With a complex matrix of considerations and concerns mapped out, Murray, argues in a final chapter that in order to negotiate the paradigm-shift represented by the disappearance of Christendom, the church needs to be simple, sustainable and hopeful for the future.  This he argues is the eschatological hope of the Church in Jesus Christ.  For now, it might seem easier said than done!

The Shopping Mall as Ceremonial Centre

My curiosity about public spaces in post-modernity and in particular the sociology and aesthetics of shopping centres such as the Birmingham Bullring (pictured below), has recently led me to a work by Ira Zepp. Jr (Professor Emeritus of Religious Studies at Western Maryland College) titled The New Religious Image of Urban America: The Shopping Mall as Ceremonial Centre.

Zepp's thesis is that '... phenomology of religion and history of religion offer us the most illuminating hermeneneutical lens through which we can see -- at a deeper, more human level -- the meaning and magnetism of the mall' (p. 11).

Although he speaks from an American perspective, and at time prior to the decimating effects of the internet on the retail industry over the last 10 years, the study is deeply insightful and draws some fascinating parallels between the human interaction with the architectural, symbolic and liturgical character of malls and traditional religion.  These parallels I find helpful in terms of making missional connections between contemporary Western culture and Christian faith and practice.  (What if the church in the United Kingdom was able to play a role in the types of seasonal calendars mentioned on pp.111-116?)  

A criticism of Zepp's study might be that he is overwhelmingly positive towards the idea of shopping malls - his enthusiasm brims throughout!  However this is mainly because he wants to uphold his central thesis, and some critical questions about equity and social justice can be found.  For example, are 'all' truly able to access the heights of meaning and fulfillment 'the promise of beyond' offered by these places (p. 188).  One might also expect a deeper critique of the retail industry and the economic/social effects of large developments on smaller surrounding communities, but this is secondary to the aim of demonstrating why shopping malls resonate with people so.  

A concluding reflection might be summarised thus: Shopping Malls are a key, if not the ultimate, manifestation of human beings predisposition towards religious practice and expression in Western culture.  A manifestation that is, though, completely devoid of revelatory content.  (It's incredible that this absence of revelatory content is compensated by such a rich pastiche of signs, symbols, poetry, and wisdom, in addition to the products on sale - cf. Bluewater, Kent). Malls are the anthropocentric utopic religious expression par excellence.

As a Christian minister shopping centres offer both an opportunity to engage with people and a challenge.  For while they offer to fulfil that inner religious desire of the homo religiosus; the promise of connection and meaning to which they point, that 'axis mundi' (p. 6) - to which Zepp refers many times - I would argue is beyond reach.

All or nothing?

Jesus says, '... apart from me you can do nothing' (John 15.5b). It is good to remember, however, that the opposite of 'nothing' in this phrase is not 'everything' (cf. Phil. 4.13), but 'much fruit'. Again, the bearing of fruit, the evidence of Godly living, our faith induced productivity and what that looks like is not our responsibility. God shapes and forms and grows the fruit.  I must recognize my limits. But we do have the responsibility to 'remain'.  And here to remain seems to refer to an ongoing absorption of the word(s) of Jesus, exemplified in the great love he shows in 'laying down his life for his friends'. 

What is it to do all or nothing (especially vis a vis Christian ministry)?  That phrase to do is troubling for those who are perpetually driven by forces other than the undying love of Christ.  If deeds motivated by this pure love are the measure, the only deeds that matter, the only deeds that produce much fruit, then surely all other activity must be rejected as meaningless and fruitless.  Oh, to be able to discern such work and activity in our own lives...

cutting and pruning

'... and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes...' (John 15.1b-2a)

Cutting and pruning in the Christian life is inevitable, inevitable and painful. The goal of following/remaining in Christ: fruit-bearing.  I may fear that in the process of cutting and pruning this branch will be lost forever. Yes, this is where I am.  Everything that I have come to value as important; aspects of my character, ways of doing things and not doing things, thoughts that edify and thoughts that betray. Sooner or later it might just have to die. The father takes me tenderly in his hands and cuts/prunes right through the imperfection, which to me might look like perfection...

'... Now remain in my love'

What does it mean to remain?  I see a bud on a vine, completely inseparable.  Only love can cause the branch to grow; true love coursing through the very veins of life.  My success and failure absolutely dependent on that union/extension/growth.  The shape of my life patterned on the DNA of Christ the vine, and the fruit nothing to do with me - not within my gift to produce, blossom or control...

a magazine article on magazines and lent

It amazes me that in this age of technology so many magazines are still available in print from newsagents and supermarkets etc.  The variety of subject matter is stunning: from celebrities, cars and computers, to sewing, steam railways and sport.  And, while the content may not always be edifying or indeed very helpful, the spread of colourful pages across the shelves certainly illustrate different aspects of life enjoyed by people.  Many evidently still choose to read magazines!

Lent is often considered a time for giving up aspects of life we enjoy to prepare spiritually for Easter.  It is a season for replacing luxury with spiritual disciplines, for carving out time and space in our lives for God.  In doing so we align ourselves with Jesus’ instruction, ‘Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.’ (Matthew 16.24).

Christian thinkers of the past often envision the path of discipleship as a route that steers us away from aspects of humanity towards the Holy.  However, it is noteworthy that many of these thinkers were male, single and living within monastic traditions with a particular take on ‘self-denial’ and ‘cross bearing’.  I wonder whether this path actually looks a good deal different for Christians today, whether becoming more like Christ is about attending to our humanity as much as cultivating a friendship with the living God; or a delicate balance that involves welcoming the joys and limits of being human alongside delighting in God.

If the purpose of Christian faith is to become like Christ to receive his gift of life ‘to the full’ (John 10.10) then perhaps in Lent we might think about whether our lives are in balance.  Perhaps, for some, Lent disciplines come easily, but we find it hard to relax into our relationships or extract the joy from life.  Perhaps, for others, our attachment to worldly things causes a real obstacle to our walk with Jesus, and by his grace need to be laid down.  This is a real challenge.

I: a ghost of Christ-like presence

What does God want for me this year (2013)?

To become a bigger person: with more of a Christ-like ego; more human, more holy; more loving, more laughing; more generous, more grateful; more giving, more passionate; more spontaneous, more thoughtful; more self-less, more self-aware; more gracious, more merciful; more active, more prayerful; more myself, more for others; more caring, more more ambivalent; more open, more hopeful; and, with a bigger heart and personality