We like to think that the resurrection solved everything for the disciples. Sadly, it did not. It takes time for our minds to focus away from the all-consuming grief that comes from our witnessing death, or hearing word of it. In Mark’s gospel, the women prepare to anoint a dead body, and are more concerned with how they will roll the burial stone away. They arrive to find that the problem has been solved for them. Having heard news from the angel that Jesus has risen, they leave not in joy but in confusion, terror, and fear, tinged with amazement. In Mark’s gospel we read how the other women were so overcome with mourning and weeping that when Mary tells them that Jesus is alive, they will not believe. In John’s gospel, Mary Magdalene assumes that someone had stolen the body. Her grief is so locked in that even when Jesus speaks to her, she does not recognise him. Not until He says her name. Whilst He does break through with Mary, the disciples – let’s not forget that the women were disciples as well – were in death mode, unable to comprehend what had happened. Who can blame them?
As I walked through Good Friday to Easter Sunday, a phrase would not leave my mind. ‘Let go of the grave clothes’. Whilst I admit that there is no scriptural reference to support this (the grave clothes are visible in John’s account, but no one touches them), I would suggest that this is an important principle. There is, arguably, a link with Mary who embraces Jesus, leaving Jesus to say, ‘Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father’. Without seeming to be disrespectful, I am not sure that Jesus is saying that He has so much power in him from the resurrection that Mary is likely to get a lightning bolt if she holds on for any longer. I think it is to do with how the Jesus she is clinging to is far too human in her mind to be of any earthly use. So, ‘Let go of me Mary.’ Or to put it another way, let go of the grave clothes (which were admittedly whiter than white).
This is my word for you, for your church, for us as a circuit. So often, the Jesus we look to, even when we know Him to be resurrected, is far to earthly in our minds to be of any heavenly use. Our God is too small. We are so locked into the expectations of decline and death, that we have little hope of realising the resurrection. And yet Jesus is so much more, and offers us so much more than we can perceive. In our lives, in our churches, in our circuit, we can so often be clinging on to the grave clothes to preserve what has been, rather than looking to Jesus who promises are new way of life; a new way of doing things that will yield results that are far beyond our expectation. The Kingdom of Heaven is come here on earth. Let go of the grave clothes.
It seems somewhat late in the day to be writing about Christopher Nolan’s latest film, Oppenheimer. In part, that is because my emotions and reflections have turned out to be just as complex as Nolan’s own narrative. I have been searching for clarity.
I will therefore get straight to the point. If you will forgive the hyperbole, in my view Nolan’s epic, despite its multi-layered narrative and wonderous cinematic creativity, is deeply disappointing. That is because it is the only film in history that we expected to bomb but in reality, lacked impact. Whilst I find myself questioning whether I should go back and rewatch the film for anything that I have missed, one of the most telling markers of good storytelling is that you are so drawn in that you cannot fail to take its themes home. Even without being particularly visceral, a good film will return to you and invade your thoughts when you are back home doing the hoovering.
Piecing together the narrative
In the case of Oppenheimer, my only thoughts were ones whereby I was trying to piece the narrative together. In order to enjoy this film you will need to understand the historical context in which it takes place. Heck, you may even find it easier to read the text from which the film was inspired, American Prometheus (Bird & Sherwin, 2021) in order to be adequately prepared. Oppenheimer was the architect of the atomic bomb, in a race against time, developing a weapon that could arguably end World War II before our enemies made their own advances. He was a theoretical physicist who displayed some uncomfortable personality traits – including, according to the film, lacing his lecturers lunchbox apple with cyanide. He was a hero one minute, but derided the next. President Trueman, for example was unimpressed whe Oppenheimer shared his concern that he felt he had blood on his hands, famously derriding Oppenheimer as a ‘cry-baby’. Oppenheimer’s reluctance to support the further development of a hydrogen bomb, as the United States hurtled towards a cold war, led some politicians to be sceptical of his support – and the easiest way to disempower him was to question his loyalty to the states by suggesting he had communist sympathies and may have leaked secrets to the Russians. This set in motion an enquiry as to whether he remained suitable to continue working for the United States Atomic Energy Commission.
Perhaps it is the way that my mind works; as I viewed the film I had to think back to my university lectures in Physical Chemistry, trying to remember the composition of the bomb, and how the nuclear material needed to be refined (illustrated by an increasing load of two sets of marbles in a two fish bowls). If this were a lecture, and I was in the audience listening, I would have been sitting there nodding politely, perhaps even smiling whilst wondering whether I was the only one not quite understanding what was being said. It was like reaching the point in a Maths lesson where you are really not following, and the teacher has no idea. This way in which the narrative of this film weaves about is a nightmare! It is filled with flash-forwards, and flashbacks, in colour and black and white, with I believe, colour representing the memories of one of Oppenheimer’s detractors, Richard Strauss. And yes, I did not realise that until I read a review from someone else. Significantly, YouTube and the internet are full of articles that break down and explain the narrative.
A crime against humanity
My primary concern is that I didn’t feel a profound sense of Oppenheimer’s moral turmoil following the bombings. We should be acutely aware of the sheer devastation caused by the uranium fission bomb (‘Little Boy,’ equivalent to 15,000 tons of TNT) on Hiroshima and the plutonium implosion bomb (‘Fat Man,’ equivalent to 21,000 tons of TNT) on Nagasaki. This knowledge should be seizmic in our souls.
Little Boy – US government DOD and/or DOE photograph, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
U.S. Department of Defense, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Fat Boy U.S. Department of Defense, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Atomic bombing of Japan. Left picture : At the time this photo was made, smoke billowed 20,000 feet above Hiroshima while smoke from the burst of the first atomic bomb had spread over 10,000 feet on the target at the base of the rising column. Six planes of the 509th Composite Group participated in this mission: one to carry the bomb (Enola Gay), one to take scientific measurements of the blast (The Great Artiste), the third to take photographs (Necessary Evil), while the others flew approximately an hour ahead to act as weather scouts (08/06/1945). Bad weather would disqualify a target as the scientists insisted on a visual delivery. The primary target was Hiroshima, the secondary was Kokura, and the tertiary was Nagasaki. George R. Caron, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
The wide variation in the death toll stems from the inadequate record-keeping at the time. Estimates range from 129,000 to 226,000, complicated further by the distinction between immediate casualties and those succumbing to radiation poisoning. What I want to emphasize is that although Oppenheimer’s flashbacks touch upon this terror, it is presented fleetingly, assuming that the audience is already aware of the unimaginable scale of destruction caused by these weapons.
Photo of what became later Hiroshima Peace Memorial among the ruins of buildings in Hiroshima, in early October, 1945, photo by Shigeo Hayashi.
The patient’s skin is burned in a pattern corresponding to the dark portions of a kimono worn at the time of the explosion. Japan, circa 1945. Gonichi Kimura 1945 National Archives at College Park, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Siblings losing their hair. The younger brother died in 1949 and so did the elder sister in 1965 of aftereffects of atomic bomb. Kikuchi Shunkichi日本語： 菊池俊吉, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons1945.
This, in my opinion, is the major flaw in “Oppenheimer.” In fact, judging by the numerous explanatory articles and videos available online, you might find yourself needing a manual to decipher this film before delving into introspection. I may be simplifying things, especially considering the film’s title is “Oppenheimer” – centered on the individual rather than the bomb itself. Nevertheless, even when Oppenheimer’s opposition to the United States developing a hydrogen fusion bomb becomes evident, the lack of vivid description (beyond cold facts and figures) of what ground zero looks like for a ‘typical’ nuclear bomb means that the audience can’t fully grasp the gravity of the situation and the depth of Oppenheimer’s emotions. Time Magazine, citing a nuclear engineer at Berkeley University in California, underscores that a hydrogen bomb would possess a hundred to a thousand times more destructive power. [2]
A missed opportunity to tell the story to younger generations
Regrettably, this film is rated 15 in the UK instead of 12A. While I acknowledge that the themes in this film are mature and warrant parental guidance, I believe that the ages between 12 and 15 are crucial for helping young individuals contemplate actions, consequences, and the world around them. The language used is relatively mild, but there are instances of obscenities. Similarly, the intimate scenes, though mild and potentially relevant in terms of conscience and key narrative themes, come across as overly clever and, in a way, overly theatrical. This approach diminishes the gravity of these moments and, frankly, feels somewhat absurd.
For instance, in one scene, Oppenheimer’s relationship with Gene Tatlock, who is also having relations with the Communist Party USA, is depicted with them in bed. Oppenheimer’s mind seems preoccupied with theoretical physics and matters of conscience, while Gene takes control of the situation by sitting on top of him, grabbing the Bhagavad Gita from a shelf above his head, and reciting the line “Now I am become death, the destroyer of souls.” This phrase is, of course, repeated by Oppenheimer later. In another scene, Gene and Robert sit naked, facing each other, as a portrayal of the competing desires between Gene and Kitty (Oppenheimer’s wife) begins to unfold, with Gene vying for dominance in their love triangle. These scenes are not explicit or titillating; they are more commonplace, peculiar, and a sophisticated, creative effort to highlight Oppenheimer’s character flaws and how he is both the instigator and victim of his own inner turmoil. They certainly do not offer gratuitous moments through pornography. I’m not convinced that they add significantly to the script, and I believe they could be portrayed differently for a younger audience.
While I’m tempted to delve into the discussion of what content should be accessible at various age levels, my main point is that even if the film did underscore the gravity of the nuclear experimentation and the ethical dilemmas it raised, its UK age rating makes it inaccessible to those under the age of 15. Nevertheless, I strongly believe that our young people should be as well-informed about the threat of nuclear warfare as they are about the Holocaust. “Oppenheimer” represents a missed opportunity, especially with its release date on July 21, 2023, so close to Hiroshima Day on August 6th. [3]
A cult following?
While the film may not have a significant impact in certain areas, I have no doubt that it will gain a dedicated following. It’s not entirely accurate to call it a “cult following” because the film isn’t meant for mere entertainment; rather, it’s a vehicle for understanding how personality, conscience, power, authority, and consequences intersect. It delves into the connections between theory, practice, and perceived risk, as well as ethics and utilitarianism.
Oppenheimer is initially celebrated for his work at Los Alamos but later faces derision from those who question his loyalty. Strauss is motivated to undermine Oppenheimer after witnessing a conversation between Oppenheimer and Einstein, which leaves Einstein seemingly indifferent towards Strauss. This eventually leads to Oppenheimer losing his security clearance. However, Strauss’s ambitions for a senior political role are thwarted when it becomes clear that his vindictiveness, exposed for all to see, was the driving force behind this move. Consequently, Strauss fails to garner enough votes in the Senate for his appointment. This power struggle, rather than the ethics of nuclear warfare, becomes the central lens through which the story unfolds.
Ultimately, Oppenheimer is finally recognized for his achievements by John F. Kennedy. In all of this, Einstein’s earlier words to Oppenheimer, that he will be praised for his actions because they benefit those who applaud him, prove to be true. After unleashing the nuclear bomb, Oppenheimer becomes a pawn in a political game. Therefore, the film’s reluctance to help viewers step into the narrative by providing a clearer backstory is what prevents it from making a more profound impact. Regarding the bomb’s impact, longer moments of reflection, possibly with silence, showcasing the devastation and fires, could have underscored this point. Such scenes don’t have to be visceral; they simply need to be telling.
Looking for the spiritual core
For those seeking a deeper, spiritual reflection on the significance of Oppenheimer’s story, CBS News provides profound insights through a 1965 interview. Oppenheimer’s responses to the newscaster’s questions followed a somewhat expected pattern: he viewed the bomb as a necessary evil, a harsh measure taken with reluctance, aimed at preventing further suffering. He candidly admitted, “You naturally don’t think of that with ease. I do not think our consciences should be entirely easy.” However, a sense of caution pervades Oppenheimer’s responses. He appears to sidestep personal reflections and instead emphasizes the collective conscience of the era. Based on the information available to him in both 1945 and 1965, Oppenheimer seemed to believe that the use of the bombs was justifiable.
Nonetheless, I was deeply struck by the contrast between corporate and personal conscience. Regardless of the rational arguments constructed by others to justify the use of the bomb, did it still conflict with Oppenheimer’s personal conscience at the time, even if it seemed rational on the surface? Regrettably, this is a question that remains unanswered, as Oppenheimer carried it with him to the grave and beyond, leaving us with a perpetual ethical dilemma.
Curiously, just as the film inadequately references historical context, it also fails to explore the divine or our responsibility to it, except for Oppenheimer’s misquoted words from the Bhagavad Gita, which the audience is left to interpret. It’s worth noting that this Hindu epic involves its hero, Prince Arjuna, conversing with Krishna, an incarnation of the god Vishnu, who is the preserver and protector of the universe in Hinduism. Arjuna is uncertain about how to handle a family conflict, and Krishna convinces him to fight. However, when Krishna reveals his true power, the world seems to burn (to borrow your phrase), and Arjuna pleads with him to stop. In this sense, Krishna to Arjuna is what nuclear research is to science—initially desiring the benefits but recoiling once realizing the destructive force unleashed. The parallels between these narratives are striking.
Oppenheimer harnesses nuclear science but is cautious about the consequences and where it might lead. However, the film unfortunately doesn’t delve further into this aspect to shed light on Oppenheimer’s awareness of his accountability to the divine. It seems that featuring Oppenheimer’s reference to one of Hinduism’s sacred texts should prompt consideration of the idea that regardless of our individual beliefs about God, there is more at play here than a limited human-centered ethical conversation.
Oppenheimer, and Physicists ‘knowing sin’
Interestingly, Oppenheimer did speak of sin relatively soon after the bombings, and so it would have been possible to begin to enter this territory. Personally, I would not be looking for the film to do more than introduce the question – because we can reflect on it in the car park later. But to close, during his 1965 CBS interview, Oppenheimer stated:
“Long ago I said once in a crude sense, in which no vulgarity and no humour could quite erase, that ‘Physicists had known sin’. I didn’t mean by that the deaths that were caused by the result of our work. We had known the sin of pride. We had turned to effect in what proved to be a major way the course of man’s history. We had the pride of thinking that we knew what was good for man, and I do think that this has left a mark of many of those of those who were responsibly engaged. This is not the natural business of a scientist.”
Regrettably, from my perspective, while “Oppenheimer” possessed considerable beauty, creativity, and an unmatched level of sophistication within its intricate and multilayered narrative, it failed to make the impact it should have. It may not be a total disaster, but it certainly fell short of expectations. “Oppenheimer” runs the risk of fading into obscurity and becoming “Forgottendheimer” because it places too little emphasis on the crucial ethical question of whether it is morally justifiable to use nuclear weapons and the complex personalities and dynamics that are involved in making such a decision.
This communion liturgy was written for cafe worship and in response to the challenging dialogue, in Matthew 15:21-28.
The Canaanite Woman, Les Très Riches Heures du duc de Berry, Folio 164r, Condé Museum, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Matthew 15 describes a visit made by a woman to Jesus, then in Gentile territory, She was desperate for Him to deliver her possessed daughter. Jesus’ response, “Let the children be satisfied first, for it is not good to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs”, has proved one of the most challenging sayings of Jesus because, from a cursory reading, it appears to support the discriminatory and inhumane attitudes shared by many of his compatriots, towards the Gentiles.
Whilst the principle that Jesus comes to the people of Israel first, and then to the wider world is understandable, we are made distinctly uncomfortable by how Jesus’ words could be taken to uphold some kind of two-tier hierarchy (in which ‘they’ (the Gentiles) are favoured less than ‘us’.
Michael Angelo Immenraet, Jesus and the Woman of Canaan. Between 1673 and 1678. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons. Complete with large dog. Spot the look of surprise on the face of the nearest disciple. Michael Angelo Immenraet, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
This is not helped in the least by his referring to them as ‘dogs’.
Softer readings of the term, derived from the original Greek (which means ‘puppies’ rather than the ferocious animals we might assume), do little, in reality, to counter this. Meanwhile, the suggestion that the word for ‘dogs’ in Greco-Roman contexts, was also used to refer to philosophers, is tempting to hold on to (as if Jesus is saying that his truth claims need to be received as more than philosophical ideas that are up for debate).
However, Jesus is too far removed from this context for this to offer any kind of reprieve. The Gentiles knew that they were despised by their neighbours. Our only hope, unless we suggest that Jesus is having a bad day, and has been caught off-guard, is that he is saying it sarcastically, as if this phrase, ‘It is not right to take food for the children and toss it to the dogs’, is a common saying that Jesus is ridiculing. However, there seems little evidence of this, and we cannot know the tone in which Jesus is speaking.
There are, however, some positives. In the first place, the woman, an outsider, is prepared to risk people knowing that she has approached Jesus. Second, this seems to be a rare occasion where the person – let alone a woman – challenges Jesus and leaves affirmed. Her response, ‘Even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs’, is met with praise and the declaration that her daughter has been healed that instant. The core message is that Jesus, most likely seeking solace, tolerates being disturbed by someone in great need. The woman’s humility and persistence changes her life, and the life of her daughter. Beyond this is the fact that whilst Jesus’ initial response leave us perplexed, He nonetheless disregards the boundaries of religious tradition that would have forbade He even talking to this woman, let alone bringing healing to her family.
I commend this liturgy to you, to use or edit as you wish. As general guidance to those ministers who are looking to write their own liturgies, page 221 of the
Methodist Worship Book is a significant help. My personal experience is that this freedom that is offered to Methodist presbyters can be particularly helpful in ecumenical settings, given how we can shape our liturgies around particular scriptural and missional themes. This liturgy features elements of the Methodist Communion service for Pentecost (also for renewal, and emphasising the power of the Holy Spirit), aspects of Ordinary Season (1) – particularly a rewording of the familiar prayer recognising that we are not fit to gather the crumbs up from the Lord’s Table. The Liturgy borrows from elements of the Iona Tradition by placing the Peace at the end, rather than at the beginning. Here, the emphasis is on how, having shared in communion, we find greater peace, and are drawn to a deeper level of commitment, then we were when we first began. We are a people who are now compelled to live at peace with each other, to respond well to those in need, and to bridge the divide. Meanwhile, the Lord’s Prayer is entered into earlier, as we emphasise that God meets our daily needs and that this rite is both a reminder and a fulfilment of this.
One line is derived from considerable reflection, in that we pray that God would ‘help us unravel those strands of our traditions (sic.) which we have spoilt, that now limit our love’. This is rooted initially in the idea that aspects of the Pharisaic Tradition which were intended to help people draw closer to God had in fact become more insular and created division. A more detailed analysis of that paradigm is not possible here, but Jesus is clear in his speaking out against rules that misunderstand the action itself (ie food laws or washing hands) with the point of the action (this should be an outward sign of an inward commitment to righteousness, rather than a display for the sake of one’s one pride). Meanwhile, my emphasis is on how we can spoil the best of our inherited traditions in much the same way; we have the tendency to cherish the past to the point that we end up not preserving a mission but a living museum of what used to work. And in the worst of cases, we withdraw from the world, feeling resentful of those in our communities who do not seem to be supporting us. We say, ‘We are here for anyone and everyone just so long as they are prepared to walk through the Church doors’.
This is, I grant you, a pessimistic view of church where amazing things are happening, but our overriding learning from Fresh Expressions, and then New Places for New People, and also Church at the Margins, is that we still need to encourage each other in reaching out to new people who are not yet members of the church, and to be open to the kind of changes that need to be put in place so that the Church meets them where they are, rather than expecting them to conform to a model of church that may work for us, but may be less than ideal for them. We need to visit the land of the Gentiles and to be receptive.
Another element from the Methodist Worship Book which may prove helpful, especially in countering any sense of hierarchy, and emphasising mutuality, is for the President to adopt the confessional stance laid out in the Second Preaching Service within the Worship Book, Section B. Here the President would lead the way in confessing their own sins, with the pardon being pronounced by the congregation, and then the congregation confessing their sins to the President.
I confess to God and to you
that I have sinned in thought, word, and deed;
May God have mercy on me.
May God grant you pardon forgiveness of all your sins time to amend your life, and the grace and comfort of the Holy Spirit, Amen
Silence, after which the people say
We confess to God and to you that I have sinned in thought, word, and deed; May God have mercy on me.
May God grant you pardon
forgiveness of all your sins
time to amend your life,
and the grace and comfort of the Holy Spirit, Amen
_______________________
The Creed
The Offering
The Lord’s Prayer
The Lord is here. His Spirit is with us. Lift up your hearts. We lift them to the Lord. Let us give thanks to the Lord our God. It is right to give our thanks and praise.
Almighty God. At the beginning of time, your Holy Spirit
hovered over the surface of the deep.
You formed the heavens and the earth.
You brought light to the darkness, and life to all.
You convict us, and draw us,
that we might turn to you and know life in all its fulness.
We remember your faithfulness through the generations
And how your covenants unfolded.
You raised up a holy people to reflect your love for the world
so that we might find purpose, and care for one another.
You sent prophets, priests, and kings to lead your people.
You defeat sin and death, and all that oppresses.
We give thanks today, that despite our sin:
Our tendency to withdraw from you, and from each other
Our lack of humility and willingness to embrace the risk of rejection
Our negligence, weakness, or even deliberate intent:
You sent your Son Jesus, so that you, the one true God
who was unknown, or overlooked and forgotten by so many,
would be revealed through His exorcisms, healings, and nature miracles.
And so with angels and archangels
and all the choirs of heaven
we join in the triumphant hymn:
Holy Holy Holy Lord God of Power and Might Heaven and Earth are full of your Glory Hosanna in the Highest Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord Hosanna in the Highest.
As we gather at this table, we remember Jesus’ final meal.
Where, as the future looked bleak,
worry, confusion, questioning, and betrayal hung in the air.
We acknowledge Jesus’ sacrifice, dying on the cross for us:
Journeying unto death so that we might be shaken to our senses.
He who welcomes our questioning, who loves beyond the border
urges us to seek the Father’s forgiveness and love our neighbour
Whilst we are saddened by Jesus’ death, we rejoice in His resurrection
and the knowledge that your Kingdom is here, is coming, and knows no bounds:
Christ has died, Christ is risen, and Christ will come again.
You lead us from longing to belonging.
Although our life may be challenging.
Although love’s cost, paid through grief can be great.
Although we may feel at times abandoned and lost.
You never leave us, you are our comforter, counsellor, helper, our friend.
When we are weak, we are carried by our church family.
When we are strong, we join our church family in carrying the weak.
Your spirit convicts us as to how, and where, you are leading us to serve.
You call us to welcome the stranger, to question that which divides us,
You call us to unravel those strands of our traditions which we have spoilt,
that now limit our love
We give thanks for those who stand with us now, whom we cannot see,
those who join with us in worship, prayer and service.
Who together with us, and the angels and archangels
praise you, and proclaim the eternal truth:
Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord.
God of Power and might
Heaven and earth are full of your glory,
Hosanna in the highest
Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord,
Hosanna in the highest.
We remember how, on the night before he died Jesus took bread, broke it, and said, ‘Take, eat, this is my body’, and how he took the cup saying. ‘Drink from it all of you; for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins’.
We offer you these gifts of bread and wine, and with them ourselves, as a holy living sacrifice:
You send forth your spirit.
You bind us in love.
You renew the face of the earth.
Pour out your Holy Spirit so that these gifts of bread and wine
may be transformed and may become for us the body and blood of Christ.
Unite us with Him forever
And bring us with the whole of creation
To your eternal Kingdom
Through Christ, with Christ, in Christ,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
all blessing and honour and glory and power
be yours forever and ever, Amen.
The bread is broken in the sight of the people.
We break this bread to share in the body of Jesus Christ
Lord, we come to your table in humility,
trusting in your mercy
We are not deserving of the crumbs under your table
but it is your nature to bring healing
and to shape us into the people you are calling us to be
So feed us with the body and lifeblood of Christ
so that He may grow in us, and we may grow in Him.
The bread and wine is shared; helpful options here, which reinforce the theme of Jesus calling us to love our neighbour, is for the bread and wine to be shared amongst the congregation by passing it to each other.
The Peace
The Peace of the Lord, which surpasses all understanding and knows no bounds, be with you now and forever
As I write I am recovering from the Barbie movie. I went because I thought it was no use hearing the opinions of others – I needed to judge for myself. The film reviews had already painted this as a movie that whilst being almost cartoonish in style, made some playful but poignant observations about the assumptions we might make about gender roles. Herein, there is a mix, some of these might be unconscious, and some we may be fully aware of, and regret. If anyone was looking for a sequel to our Methodist Church Justice, Dignity, and Solidarity training, looking through the lens of gender, I would consider this to be compulsory viewing.
In the sky, a large styled pink “B” with Margot Robbie as Barbie sitting holding out her right arm and Ken lying down in an angle with his head resting on his right clenched hand. A tagline reads: “She’s everything. He’s just Ken.” The poster art copyright is believed to belong to the distributor of the film, Warner Bros. Pictures, the publisher of the film or the graphic artist.
A helpful film makes you think. While Barbie does touch upon the well-rehearsed and valid aspects of patriarchy’s impact, it avoids the increasingly hackneyed, sensational, and hostile arguments put by its most vehement proponents. Curiously, while the film implicitly addresses concerns over male dominance, it also takes aim at a particular brand of feminism promoted by Mattel, the producers of the Barbie doll. Whilst this brand of feminism is credited for broadening horizons for girls worldwide, it is criticised simultaneouslyfor perpetuating unattainable expectations regarding appearance and career, impacting many negatively. Barbie is among others a film director, film and music producer, teacher, dentist, doctor, paratrooper, campaign fundraiser, police officer, architect, astrophysicist – the list is endless. In my view though it is not accurate to say that there are fewer less skilled roles for Barbie: there are. Nonetheless, one of the striking moments in the film is where Barbie from Barblieland enters into conversation with Sasha, a young adolescent girl living in the real world, who states, “Barbie, you’ve set feminism back by 50 years. Every woman feels bad about herself when they see you. You’re a fascist!” That comment made Barbie cry.
Cover of Earring Magic Ken. Fair Use; Used for purposes of illustration
The narrative is supported with barbs towards Mattel (which could be also read as product placement); all Ken wants lives to be acknowledged by Barbie and gets no attention; his only friend Allan was discontinued after rumours began to circulate that he and Ken’s relationship was more than platonic. Then again, Allan returned as Midge’s husband in the 90’s – but sadly, they did not survive for long. Indeed, Pregnant Midge (who also came with a toddler and pram) was also withdrawn in fear that Mattel might be promoting teen pregnancy unwittingly. Earring Magic Ken was withdrawn, again, because of how gay he seemed. Palm Beach Sugar Daddy Ken (with an $82 million dollar fortune) was scrapped – this should be celebrated since Barbie does not need a sugar-daddy. Even Tanner, Barbie’s dog, is withdrawn because he defecated unsafely. (In truth, it was the magnet inside, unsafe for children that did it, rather than the defecation which was seen as a marketable add-on).
It was the line about fascist feminism that shocked me most. Gretta Gerwig’s willingness to champion the feminist cause and yet, at the same time, to be critical about the less helpful aspects of the Barbie project is refreshing. It brings self-reflection and honesty to the table. What interested me more however is a broader thought, derived from Gerwig’s work – that in declaring the freedoms we hope for; in our pressing hard to redress the balance, in our discourse, in our practical action, if we get the balance wrong, people see hate and intolerance justified under the guise of a just cause rather than love. Calling what are left wing movements towards greater freedom ‘fascist’ is peculiar, because fascism has historically been anchored to far right ideologies, where violence is used to bring about suppression and conformity. Even so, however framed, intolerance-whilst-arguing-for-tolerance is indeed a marker of our times. It is the big question we are all wrestling with. It is, for example, at the forefront of Extinction Rebellion or Just Stop Oil’s action. We all care for the planet but to what extent can campaigners disrupt lives to promote a worthy cause? The issue is that many onlookers are suspicious of simplistic arguments, and disagree with the form of protest. Moreover the accusation that extremes of feminist activism might have fascist tendencies could almost have been lifted from the playbooks of Andrew Doyle (GB News), Piers Morgan (TalkTV), or Richard Madeley (Good Morning Britain).
Where then does this leave us?
I entered a Barbie world, and I am still making sense of it all. In recent weeks I have been considering Jesus’ parables. Rather than beginning by exploring their meaning (which almost defeats the object), my approach has been to explore why Jesus spoke in parables in the first place? In my view, this has something to do with how Jesus manages conflict. Whilst Jesus can and does speak the truth directly and uncompromisingly (ask any of the scribes or Pharisees who were about to stone the adulteress – ‘Let He who has not sinned cast the first stone’, or derrided by Him publicly as ‘whitewashed tombs’ or a ‘serpents’ – John 8, Matthew 23), Jesus also manages conflict by speaking in parables. Whilst Jesus’ parabolic teaching is judgmental in the sense that it allows Jesus to point the finger at the state of the world, and what Kingdom values look like, Jesus does not poke people in the eye.
A helpful example is that of the lawyer who asks Jesus ‘Who is my neighbour?’ Jesus does not respond by saying, “What a stupid question. Whatever a neighbour is, let alone a good neighbour, it is definitely not you!” No, he tells a story. He invites the lawyer and the bystanders to step into a scene and think through their values. Who is our neighbour? How should we behave? In essence, Jesus states that our neighbour is whoever is beside us, or who we pass by, and we are called to love them, even if we have been conditioned to hate them. Whilst the message is personal, it is not given as a personal barb. It does not try to settle arguments by destroying the person we are trying to persuade. There is something in this, in how as Christians we seek to help people engage in issues of Justice, Dignity, and Solidarity without increasing conflict and hostility, by helping us all see life from a different perspective.
Compulsory viewing?
I believe that Barbie should be compulsory viewing because it presents a unique perspective on the place of men in feminist debates, shedding light on gender expectations and the influence of patriarchy woven into the film. The initial scenes, where girls reject the traditional baby dolls they were given as children and exchange them for Barbie, are both poignant and harrowing, demanding our attention. Witnessing this powerful portrayal of societal expectations and gender norms, I could not help but be deeply moved.
Even so, this marked the outer limits of Barbie’s rebellion. As one of the few males in the cinema, I found myself drawn not only to the message of women’s emancipation but also to the introspection it prompted regarding male dominance as a product of patriarchy. Instead of feeling alienated or blamed, I felt invited to be a part of the solution and engage in the conversation with warmth and understanding. This movie challenges us all to confront the legacy of patriarchy and its impact on shaping unconscious biases – and it is refreshing to see how the complexity around this is acknowledged. There is an irony throughout the film where the kind of lines that might appear on a protest placard are delivered with a level of sarcasm, suggesting that creating a utopia is not as simple as we might imagine.
By addressing gender expectations, Barbie encourages us to reflect on the ways in which societal norms have shaped our perspectives, and it motivates us to actively support the broader movement for gender equality. It is essential that we foster an environment where individuals of all genders can come together in dialogue, acknowledging the influence of patriarchy while striving to create a more inclusive and equitable world. Barbie compels us to embrace change, think critically about gender roles and their limitations, and to be aware of how patriarchy has historically promoted male dominance, which has, in turn, disempowered women.
Similarly, given the film’s thought-provoking critique of Barbie-feminism; “Thanks to Barbie, all problems of feminism and equal rights have been solved”, I find myself anticipating how a more comprehensive critique of matriarchy might surface in wider society. At present, this feels underdeveloped. Exploring both sides of the gender debate will further enrich our understanding and pave the way towards a more comprehensive and nuanced conversation about gender dynamics.
References:
Morgan, Piers, ‘Vile woke fascists bullying us over ‘trans’ rapists and gender-neutral awards pose a severe and unexpected threat’, 150123, https://www.thesun.co.uk/news/21162988/piers-morgan-transgender-protests/
Lewis, Isobel, ‘Good Morning Britain: Richard Madeley criticised for calling climate activist a ‘fascist’, 140921 https://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/tv/news/richard-madeley-gmb-climate-protest-b1919758.html
Doyle, Andrew, We should stop letting activists get away with redefining words to suit their political purposes, 300122, https://www.gbnews.com/opinion/andrew-doyle-we-should-stop-letting-activists-get-away-with-redefining-words-to-suit-their-political-purposes/216297
(An edited version of this article featured in the New Places for New People blog for the Methodist Church of Great Britain).
When you see the prophetic it stands out like glitter reflecting the light. Scene here – glitter remains spilt outside Messy Church (biodegradable of course)
Methodism is full of meetings. I don’t mind that, just so long as our meetings are grounded in prayer, have purpose, and we are making progress. Many of us who chair meetings or who take an active part are able to identify when we are not at our best. We all know of meetings where the minutes have served more as a reminder of what we promised to do months ago but have forgotten. Alternatively, we will know of meetings where the focus seems to be on keeping the show (of ‘church’) on the road by shoring up what is barely working, rather than being honest about what needs to change.
Have you heard of the five P’s? I am not sure where I first heard them. There are most likely variations but I remember the phrase, ‘Prayerful Preparation Prevents Poor Performance’. Herein the notion of ‘performance’ (a word that does not come naturally) needs to be coaxed within our understanding of discipleship, and how if we want to grow the church, we need to start by making disciples. In NPNP settings, where we have clear intent, where our focus is on growth and sustainability, a prayerful approach to preparation comes naturally. In a smaller setting, if people are not coordinating well and working as a team, things fall apart quickly. The same is true of established settings, apart from it can be easy for us to be lulled into a false sense of security because ‘we have always been here’.
There is a phrase I want to add to the five P’s. It feels clumsy, but I think it is invaluable – Prayerful Preparation – thatis open to the prophetic – Prevents Poor Performance. Perhaps a wordsmith can come up with something more succinct. This addition comes from my experience in a church meeting where, aside from the well warranted need for us to maintain our building, one of our members asked the question, ‘How much money are we spending on people rather than buildings’? Before you, the reader, recoil because our buildings need maintenance, and we often find ourselves in a non-negotiable position, I would ask you to suspend judgement and hear me out. This was an important question – a prophetic question born out of holy disquiet, and it needed unpacking. What is the underlying concern here? How, if aired, might it help the community focus on its sense of call? In our context we still opted to carry out this work but we intend to spend more on people – a layworker in fact, part-funded through a bequest.
Those of us who chair meetings, and those of us who are key leaders in churches and NPNP ministries have a responsibility to draw out the prophetic voice. That is a challenging task because biblically it would seem that prophets are always at risk of having rocks slung in their direction. Hence sometimes, even though the prophetic question will not change a particular outcome (damp issues have to be dealt with), it can help shape a community. It can also call people back to a sense of accountability to each other, working together. That for me, is the difference between administration, which we all need, and solid Christian leadership. May the Lord be with us all, and may we not quench the Holy Spirit as we encounter the prophetic. Wherever we are.
This article is dedicated to those who forget or confuse names and places easily, and who in trying to remember someone’s name can’t get another out of their head. Batman made an appearance in one of my recent services. Because I had called someone Robin by mistake.
Not a great image to have in your mind during worship – By Greenway Productions-producer of both the television series and the 1966 film. – eBay itemphoto frontphoto back, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=105593132
Once again, I continue to thank God for the new people that the Lord is bringing us, who are making Queen Street their spiritual home. My challenge is how I get to know you all. I need to be honest and share how I am absolutely terrible with names. It is something that I find deeply humiliating and difficult, because I love people and feel like an absolute idiot when I cannot remember someone’s name when I am facing them, or in passing conversation I get names wrong. My sister, who is a psychologist, says that I have dyslexia. It is more of a family joke but I suspect there is some truth in it. There is also a level of ADHD there. Yes, I am high functioning (I think people who have doctorates have to fall into this category). I am not a great reader – my attention span is short (research reading is different from novel reading). Whilst I don’t struggle with spelling, I do get place names confused. It is a cognitive weakness.
I remember on one occasion, when Ro and I were living in Yorkshire, we agreed to meet each other – she would do the shopping, and I would meet to help her pack, at Morrisons. That was four miles away. I ran to Tescos – which was four miles in the opposite direction. By the end of the day I had practically run a half-marathon. (And yes, I still can’t remember whether I have the names of the supermarkets right). In formal settings I tend to be fine, but those of you who see me at work in the vestry – say before a baptismal service – will know how carefully I sit there and write the names of the child and the parents – again and again, on every page of the liturgy. It’s the same with a wedding and a funeral. We all find our coping mechanism – but it is when we are off script that we find our weaknesses. And there are people who have it far, far, far worse than me. I mean, here I am writing quite naturally. You would not know. Unless you agreed to meet me somewhere and I had not written it down. I live or die by my diary! Fortunately mistakes happen rarely – but it shows when things are informal or when I am rushing. Getting days and dates confused when I am firing off e-mails rapidly is another one – but we all correct ourselves.
About a month ago, in a moment of hilarity, whilst confidently leading worship, I managed to rename Paul Abel – who was sat at the front – ‘Robin’. I did it not once but at least twice. The eyebrows usually give it away, followed by (once it became impossible to ignore, the question. ‘Who is Robin?’ – since ‘Robin’ was about to lead us in prayer. Thankfully we are a close family at Whittlesey, and I feel so loved and valued, so acknowledging it was easier – but I did feel like a right muppet. I know why my brain went where it did: Robin was the name of Paul’s former minister, who I talked with some time back. However, during the seconds that followed the only word association I could get if ‘Robin’ was not ‘Robin’, was ‘Batman’!) Thankfully I did not blurt this out. The conversation with my wife that followed was interesting. She is a saint. She keeps me grounded, and I don’t ask her opinion if I am looking for a soft answer but on this occasion she conceded that I did manage to pull things back from the brink. My concession afterwards; ‘I might forget your name Paul, but Jesus won’t!’ seemed to come from nowhere. And despite my human frailties, and my embarrassment, we were back on track. I think this was more of a prophetic utterance than due to any quick thinking or creativity on my part, since I was utterly vulnerable and more open to the Holy Spirit. I might forget your name but Jesus won’t. Just think about that for a moment.
This brings me, conveniently, to a point where I can focus on what we are about at Queen Street. I have been around for long enough to know that the mark of a loving church is that you can be open and vulnerable, and people will embrace you. That despite our weaknesses – and we all have weaknesses – people love us for our strengths, and for what we bring to the church community. People are asking me why we are growing at Whittlesey. I don’t have an easy answer apart from to say that as a church we know what we are about – who we are here for, and why. I also know that whilst I have a role, everyone gets that we all have a responsibility to nurture each other. We are here to lead people to Jesus, the one who knows our name, knows us, and has a purpose for our lives. Making disciples makes church. It does not work the other way round. And so this is why, even though the formula is simple, we are holding our revival service on the week after Pentecost. What we have is previous. We have a place where God is bringing healing in so many ways. Do come along. Do bring a friend. We will share the gospel. We may hear some testimony. We will offer prayers for healing and wholeness. We will make sure we give people an opportunity to give their lives to Jesus. We cannot lose. We cannot fail. Because God’s purpose is in this, and in all that we do. We simply need to be open to God. In a sense, it does not matter how many make it, or whether it is about renewal or first-time commitment. We are being faithful. And if you can’t be there, praise God that you will be where God needs you to be – with family and friends etc, and do please pray for those of us who are.
Why are we doing what we are doing, and how do we rebuild our local movement post-pandemic?
This article was compiled in September 2022, originally for a Churches Together group in one of the villages where I serve. Here, Churches Together were looking to re-establish itself post-pandemic but questioning how our local movement might find renewal. Why should people in churches be attracted to Churches Together?
When our Jewish brothers and sisters celebrate their Passover meal, they begin by priming the youngest child to ask a question to the oldest adult present. This question is, ‘Why is this night different from all other nights?’ It is, arguably, one of the most important elements of the evening. It marks the beginning of the storytelling as the family recount God’s faithfulness in delivering His people from slavery and leading them to the promised land. It prevents the true meaning of Passover from being lost, and it reinforces the tradition.
The danger for us as Churches Together is that we assume that our congregations and even ourselves as leaders understand our purpose. And so, as we stand on the edge of something new (and it is clear already that God is doing a work among us – you can feel the fellowship, playfulness, and delight around the table), it is worth us stepping back and asking the question, ‘Why are we doing what we are doing?’ This is helpful because there are many good reasons that churches should work together. Some are scripturally based. Others surface from our practical experience of how God can do great things when Christians lay aside their differences and work together. But some are better than others.
The main reason for our questioning, ‘Why are we doing what we are doing?’ is to strengthen ourselves as we draw strength from the consensus that we hold. The second is to help us think realistically and strategically about how we grow ChurchesTogether, locally, as a movement. The word ‘movement’ is key. I put it to us all that our Churches Together groups are not so much a committee or an organization seeking to ensure that churches play together nicely (and if possible avoid clashing with each other’s events). We are a movement; a group of people who believe that churches through Christ change lives, and that this outworking of the gospel cannot be contained within our walls. As Jesus reminds us, you cannot fit new wine into old wineskins. Or, to use another gospel reference, we are going to need a bigger boat. Crucially, the more that we are able to support each other and work together, the more growth we will see in our churches.
Why do we do what we do?
Looking to scripture:
Whilst there is a scriptural warrant for Churches Together, I would suggest that this is not always the most helpful starting point because it is open to interpretation. It is however possible to investigate the context and background of Jesus’ words and penetrate the surface. In John 17:21, Jesus prays with the disciples that they, ‘may they all be one… that the world may believe that you sent me…’ What are we to make of this?
The word ‘One’ has been interpreted by some to mean ‘One Church’ (with the schism that has given rise to Eastern Orthodox, Protestant, Methodist, Baptist, Reformed, Pentecostal etc being viewed as sinful). The vision here is that we should all be part of the One Holy Catholic Church (‘Catholic’ here meaning ‘universal’ or ‘all-embracing’ rather than Roman Catholic of course). However, this thinking is difficult because it infers that somewhere within our mix of denominations is the ‘one true church’ that Jesus would have us follow. So then, which one of us has it all right, and who is going to concede that they are wrong? As for me, I always think that if I find the perfect church, I am going to get out as soon as possible, lest I make it more unholy by being there in the first place. Therefore, whilst the idea of calling people to be One Church might appeal in the first instance, it highlights the division that exists, within seconds.
What then can we say? Well, perhaps the most insightful and least contested statement would be to recognise that Jesus here is not speaking to the Church, or anything like the Church as we know it. (Arguably, the origins of the Church as an institution are closer to the 4th Century when Christianity was adopted as the state religion of the Roman Empire). Rather, Jesus is speaking with passion to a band of disciples who need to stay together and support each other lest they be scattered by the conflict and persecution that is to come. The call to be ‘one’ is woven into a prayer that the Father would protect them, and that the Holy Spirit will be their advocate and help them discern the truth as they journey on.
If then there is a scriptural warrant for Churches Together, it is that we should help Christians support each other in their discipleship. Our task is to set the tone and provide spaces in which people can form mutually supportive relationships with each other. And our role as leaders is to model this ourselves and to point and celebrate where this is happening in others. Since Jesus comes declaring that the Kingdom is both here and coming (as opposed to the Church is here and coming), our task, surely, should be one of breaking down the barriers that prevent people from across different churches relate well to each other. There are significant gains to be had from people in one church supporting the work of another, and vice-versa. This said, there is some danger in people calling themselves Christians and yet not being anchored to one particular church. We would therefore be wise to encourage people belong to one particular church and to serve others from there. One of the best ways in which we might appreciate the contrasts of another tradition may well be to know our own well enough in the first place. There would appear to be no contradiction in making a spiritual home in one place and yet visiting the house of another to support them, and be supported by them.
Creating a Missiological Juggernaught rather than an Ecclesiological nightmare.
‘Ecclesiology’, in its crudest sense, is a term that refers to, among others, how we ‘do Church’. It is a heady mix of culture (‘the way we do things round here’ or ‘the way we do things when we are not consciously thinking about what we are doing’). It is influenced by a blend of the tradition in which we have been raised, our view of scripture, our experience, and our reason (God gave us a brain for reason), to refer to what is known as the Methodist Quaderilateral. Our Ecclesiology determines, among others:
Who leads? Minister, vicar, priest, or pastor?
Who has the (real) power and how this is balanced between leader and congregation?
When does worship take place? Morning, evening, or beteen when the cows need milking?
How do people worship? Do they cross, kneel, crouch, stand, sit, raise their hands, or swing incense?
In short, we would be unwise to mess with culture. We are all different. Whilst we can be refreshed by being exposed to a different tradition, it can also be a struggle, for deep reasons.
‘Mission’ is a term that is easier to describe. It is less to do with worship and more to do with how we serve. There are some interesting definitions:
Mission is about loving our neighbour.
Mission is about working out what God is doing and joining in.
Our mission as well as to serve others is to make disciples.
To make disciples, we need to evangelise (invite people to commit to Christ and take the first steps in their Christian journey).
Disciples are always connected in some way to a local church.
Speaking candidly, the Spirit moves differently in different contexts, and I have never seen any two Churches Together groups take the same form. I have seen quite a few iterations of Christians from different churches working together, local churches working together, and Churches Together. (They can vary significantly in their outworking and affiliations). Even so, Churches Together in Britain and Ireland seems a good starting place. Whilst some colleagues from other denominations are close behind me in terms of the number of churches they serve, our Methodist stationing system places us frequently across multiple congregations and therefore, working with multiple Churches Together groups.
Joint Worship
We should not give up on joint worship. However, we should concede that apart from where congregations from say two or three different local denominations have unite permanently, the quest for joint worship has always been difficult. This is because people are a product of their culture. For example, a morning joint service means that every church in our context apart from one must move its congregation. An afternoon service suggests that meeting for worship is an optional extra. Across the board, however, acts of worship that are in open spaces, and on high seasons and holidays, are supported by congregants. Perhaps this is because everyone sees the value in public witness, and this is something that we can do better together than alone.
The second starting point is often the much more fruitful one, because whilst individual Christians from local churches may well have hurt each other (sadly) to the point of struggling to co-exist in the same space, and whilst churches might differ theologically over key issues such as baptism and communion, any resistance to work together and alleviate the sufferings of others, is a total anathema to the gospel. It is inexcusable. Neither is there any room for protectionism as if one church should be wary about supporting another because they might ‘poach’ members – the answer to this is to be better at our invitation and evangelism. There are more than enough people in our villages, towns, and cities to fill all our churches.
Our country is experiencing an increase in the cost of living that we have not seen for decades. Our national conscience has been moved to the point of everyday people taking in Ukrainian refugees. There is now much focus on local churches providing warm spaces. Meanwhile, we as Church leaders are failing Jesus if we cannot, by cultivating supportive relationships between members of different churches, alleviate the suffering that some people are going to experience. To turn this argument on its head, why would we not do all we can to work together and do even more good? And why would we not do it when in the very act of serving others and being an instrument from the Lord, members of our congregations will discover life in all its fulness? (John 10:10)
I am not sure how I ended up writing an essay! This may well be a helpful document for other church leaders as we reflect. Whilst people have an inkling that working as part of Churches Together might be good, and plenty can see that Churches Together can provide an overarching and informative view of what the needs are in our context, I am not convinced that people have grasped the reasons as to why churches should work together. Its a classic, ‘We just do this because we have always done this’. Perhaps there might be an element of doing it because it is fun and we enjoy being together. However, I am not sure that we are doing it because in by being faithful in this way, we are showing our unity for the love of God, and we are demonstrating our love for our neighbour that is so much more powerful than words.
Some simple truths
Perhaps the points below might be helpful as a simple reminder to those who attend our churches about some of the core truths that lead us to work together, wherever possible:
We may worship differently but our core beliefs are the same, and we share the same calling; to make disciples and to show God’s love to the World.
God calls us to be one as Christians first (never mind our denominational affiliation), supporting each other as disciples. Through Churches Together we encourage people to be there for each other when the worst happens. Equally, we celebrate with our brothers and sisters when we experience the best that life has to offer.
As Church Leaders there is an obligation on us to model this ourselves; it is in and of itself, an act of witness to the presence and power of God across our churches.
There are more than enough people in many villages, towns, and cities, to fill our churches; it is the Lord who builds our local churches by the power of the Holy Spirit. Therefore, whilst it might be tempting to preserve our own numbers and to limit our efforts to support our own congregations, it is in fact counterproductive. Our task is to simply help people find a church that is right for them. We care more about them than what church they eventually attend.
Churches Together provides a way of helping churches coordinate their efforts so that in their individual efforts they do not undermine what each other is doing.
Churches Together can take simple steps to permission give and remove the invisible barriers to mission that can so easily impede us; through sharing information about what churches are doing and what help is available to those who are in need; by celebrating and highlighting examples of where a member of one church finds fulfillment in supporting a mission project in another; of discerning what additional needs exist in the town and encouraging joint projects between churches, or a single project under the umbrella of Churches Together.
And yes, our united acts of worship, particularly those that are in public (in the form of gatherings for worship, and times of reflection and prayer) will provide a visible witness to a world and can therefore be the first steps in evangelism from which people can invite to find a home in a local church. However, the danger is that they will end-up being constrained to within the (literal) walls of the church, where newcomers will rarely venture, and they will cater for those who are committed to church unity rather than pressing the argument home amongst those who may well be asking the question, ‘What is the point of Churches Together?’
26.7 miles per hour – to be precise. And that’s on the flat without ducking down on ‘the drops’ and carrying a rucksack. I am of course referring to my most recent bike ride from Peterborough or to be precise, Gunthorpe Road to Queen’s Street. The route took me north via Newborough, then right on to the Thorney Road (facing winds of 25mph, gusting at 30mph – I checked), then turning right to be wind-assisted for the second half, up past the Dog and Doublet and into the town. What a contrast.
Not me. Just me in my head. By Wikichops – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=62320658
I am sure there are people who have gone faster. I once did a funeral for a man who managed to live a long life despite receiving a speeding ticket for travelling at 50mph on a bike through the Mersey Tunnel. I was so sceptical about this that I did check what was possible – and yes it is – but you rely on the hill rather than spinning legs to achieve those kinds of speeds. And of course, those who know my figure will know that I am more like a human cannonball than a dart – but this does have its advantages when it comes to preserving my momentum.
El Pollock / Queensway Road Tunnel, River Mersey / CC BY-SA 2.0, Wilipedia
Seriously though, for me, 27 miles per hour – faster than I have ever gone even
when travelling downhill – is fast enough. Goodness knows how people cope at higher speeds, especially when you don’t know the road (and more to the point, where the pot-holes are). Experience tells me that falling off even at half that speed hurts. At a few days over 50 (Ahhh, I year you say), I don’t bounce. However, in that moment my thoughts are not on slowing down, but just concentrating.
There is something in this; so often we have the potential in life to go faster but we need to balance this with keeping ourselves safe. Sometimes our fears are ill-founded and we need to stay alert, keep pedalling, and keep our hands off the brakes. At other times we need to take the risk seriously and slow down. Somewhere in between the two is what Jesus declares to be ‘Life in all its fullness’. Hold back and you will miss out on life. Push it too hard and we will end up flying through the air, and not in an angelic way. But in my view, more often than not we are more conservative and risk adverse than we need be. Life is meant to be lived to the full. Whilst we can find fulfilment in an arm-chair, it is not meant to be lived there, at least not in the spiritual sense. Even if mobility prevents us from leaving our homes easily, we can still ‘get out’, exposing ourselves to new experiences; reading a different author, watching a different TV programme, phoning up someone we have not talked to in ages, setting up a Facebook account (or any other form of social media). There is a whole world out there. God wants you to live in it, experience it, to feel the reward of the wind pushing you from behind, having faced everything it can muster up as you face it beforehand.
I am minded of the quote that came to mind last Sunday morning, “Jesus did not come to make bad people good. He came to make dead people live”. For me there is more to life than just a pulse. So the next time you are tempted to tap the brakes just hold off for a second – one second – and ask whether there is more life to be had in this, or whether you really do want to slow down and miss out on a whole new experience. Sometimes our nervousness is unwarranted. Risk is everywhere. It’s how much risk we are prepared to tolerate that makes all the difference.
There has been one recent development in the circuit that has excited me. I share it with you even though it is very much in its infancy. Last Sunday at our Pioneer Hub, Rev Dale Sherriff, one of our supernumerary ministers who was previously involved with Inspire (the Methodist movement intent on encouraging people to grow in their discipleship and engagement with mission), shared some of his thinking about how we might encourage people across our circuit. What he had to say seemed to link well with the ‘Tending to our Roots’ aspects of our ‘Reimagine Strategy’ as we continue to look to the future. (Remember the Tree, and the questions about how we develop prayer and small groups?)
Dale’s reflection began as he questioned the different way in which, historically, we have physically gathered as a church. Whilst we cannot do this now, it seemed to me that some of what Dale had to say might be helpful for local church leaders to think about as we come out of isolation. How will we regroup? How will we gather?
As a Methodist Church, we have gathered in four distinct ways in the past. Whilst I use the historic language here, the principles remain true to our heritage.
As a Circuit (for larger gatherings – something which we reintroduced before the pandemic hit.
As local churches (as Sunday or weekday congregations)
As a Class (the class-meeting language is not often used, but in essence a class is a study and fellowship groups which has been as eqally important (if not more important) than gathering for worship services.
As a Band (again the language has fallen out of widespread use, but a band is a group of say three people who pray for each other – we might refer to this as a prayer triplet).
As for the link with the dragonfly? Well the dragonfly has four wings. Every one of them is required, but they can work together and independently. In the same way we could envisage that these are rather like the four different ways in which people can gather. I should mention of course that the pastoral system of the Methodist Church runs alongside this, but at one time all pastoral groups met as classes. Some still do of course. However, as a way of helping understand the balance we are looking for as we look to the future, this way of thinking may be helpful for many.
The words Class and Band may need revisiting. It may be that using the term Life Group might be more appropriate. Many churches offer fellowship groups, but in time, as we return from lockdown, we may want to question how we can expand and encourage the work in our existing groups. How might they be enhanced to balance spiritual nurture and fellowship? Likewise, could this be a time where we look at encouraging more prayer triplets in our churches? I love the idea of remembering, not least in light of the Coronavirus Pandemic, that Jesus promises Life in all its Fullness (John 10:10). Could these ideas help us as seek to capitalise on the increased depth and scope of engagement in our churches? I merely share this as an idea that is stirring within me….
Little Boy – US government DOD and/or DOE photograph, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
