In reference to the Methodist Church Statistics for Mission Report 2017. Are we really in a nosedive? A personal response from Planet Peterborough.

As I reflect on this report, the danger is that I become preoccupied with the statistics of decline, rather than overlook the Good News of the growth that we are seeing. There is even a sense in which I struggle to relate the editorial from christantoday.com to our situation here in Peterborough – this states that the Methodist Church is in a numerical nosedive and questions whether we can pull-out in time. Moreover, these figures are not new: I am not shocked. Whilst I do not wish to sound dismissive, the Methodist Church has been in ‘decline’ for the entire of my ministry to date. Despite this, I cannot deny that God is at work. I have seen lives transformed. In my early ministry, one person who converted to Christ stated, ‘I was not happy with who I was becoming. Now I am.’ Others made life-changing decisions, taking up careers that were in line with a sense of calling that God had given them. I have also encouraged people to take up office and they have blossomed through it. Thus, whilst there is decline, much of my time is spent managing growth. In the unlikely event that any of my ministerial colleagues feel that my response is in any way an attempt to big up the Peterborough Circuit, I would like to stress that I see little evidence from across our District that the Methodist Church is flapping like a fish out of water, gasping for air, expending energy as it tries in vain to do something significant. If I really did not have confidence in the Church, if I honestly felt that God was not at work, I would have left years ago.

Here on planet Peterborough whilst we do face challenges, the ground is not rushing up to meet my face; I am not sensing any unusual G-forces, and I do not feel a sense of dread. Whilst I could be in Kubler-Ross’ first stage of grief – which is denial (at being confronted with Death and Dying),  I do recognise the severity of our situation. Despite this, I see our decline as an opportunity to celebrate what is working, rather than lament what is not. As a Church, we need to focus more on inviting people to become involved in our corporate life, and we need to invest in evangelism (which, by the way, is not a swearword, and can be done sensitively).  Even so, the striking thing about Methodism is its adaptability and resilience. This is due, in part, to how it is structured, and how it balances local autonomy with national accountability. As a minister, whilst I identify with the local churches over which I have pastoral charge, my security rests with the Methodist Conference and the circuit in which I am appointed to serve. Chiefly, it is the ‘circuit’ (of churches) who meet as a ‘circuit meeting’ which serves as the principal driver for mission across Peterborough. Thus, even though local churches might close and/or a lack of funding affects staffing options, there is huge opportunity. It is more a case of game-on rather than game-over. By the way, we still have an opening for a part-time Pioneer Team Leader. If you are interested, do get in touch.

Whilst it might be tempting to dismiss the Methodist Conference as an ecclesial-administrative knees-up that is in a perpetual state of deliberation but going nowhere, we would do well to remind ourselves that Conference has made decisions that have been impactful and penetrating – whatever our view on the outcomes; four examples come to mind – Our Calling, Reshaping for Mission, Holiness and Risk, and Fruitful Fields. Those who might be sceptical of the institution, consider yourselves warned. In 2015, I revisited Conference to photograph its proceedings (all ordinands attend: Conference stands to receive them before their ordination). However, my heart sank when I arrived early and surveyed desk upon desk, complete with papers and binders, laid out as far as the eye could see. ‘Is this the powerhouse of the Church?’ I thought to myself. An hour later, during morning worship, and as Conference sung Sing the Faith 662; ‘Have you heard God’s voice: has your heart been stirred?’ I had to stop because I was so touched by the Holy Spirit and moved to tears, that I could no longer see through the viewfinder. By the way, whoever took the photographs of Conference this year did a superb job, and the coverage of the Conference, streamed live on the web, was excellent. If you are interested, it is possible to view the sessions of Conference again. I have had a good look and skipped through. There was not much evidence of death. In fact, I would suggest that the debate on Statistics for Mission should be compulsory viewing for Pioneers as an example of how practical ideas can be sharpened by institutional process.

The crucial question is whether Conference (and we as its ministers who are sent to serve in our circuits by Conference) can work in partnership with others to bring about a change of culture in our local churches. As Stephen Skuce’s research into Reshaping for Mission highlighted, whilst we can promise much on the mission outcomes, and restructure well, the effort counts for little unless it equips our local churches to engage more effectively with their local communities: the wheels need to turn and the rubber must hit the road. Significantly, our memorials on fresh expressions and fundraising probed this issue. Rhetoric on its own is not good enough. Permissions, practice and processes must fall in-line with what Conference decides. The notice of motion, put by Elaine Lindridge, that all churches should be required to construct a mission plan or an end of life plan within two years, and how this developed, is a case in point. The end goal is that local churches should reflect on their mission seriously. The challenge for the Conference is how to develop something that will have a consequence for those who are reluctant to participate. Ministers need more power to their elbow when confronting churches that might be financially rich but performing poorly in a missional sense, living a life where their security comes from funds that sit in a bank on a rainy day (when elsewhere in the circuit it is lashing it down), and not from any real grasp of Methodist purpose. Herein, there may be striking parallels with John Wesley’s Second Sermon, ‘The Almost Christian’, wherein Wesley points to how we all need to guard against having the outward form of religion, but lacking a depth of relationship with Jesus Christ. This makes the difference between our being ‘Almost’ there, rather than ‘Altogether’ there. Our first calling as preachers is to ‘save souls’. Whilst this language may appear a little archaic, our congregations need to remember that their purpose is to do more than keep worship going on a Sunday and shut up shop for the rest of the week, or if we have customers, to leave them to their own devices, assuming that a self-service ‘take it or leave it’ mode of operation will be enough to grow the church. I hope that Conference’s decision that this notice of motion be passed to Methodist Council proves to be a wise one, in that what we need is action, rather than this idea to be kicked into the long grass.

The reality of ministry; managing growth and decline

During my own ministry, I have observed how churches can have periods of stability or decline, followed by periods of significant growth. I have seen three churches close. At other times, new things have emerged. Today, in some of my churches, Jesus declaration that ‘The harvest is plentiful and the workers are few’ has come to fruition. I am co-ordinating efforts in two to welcome newcomers properly. Note that I speak of welcoming, rather than membership. In one, we are co-ordinating ‘meet and greets’, helping newcomers link with me as their minister, and our key pastoral leaders. In the other, I am writing to newcomers who have been with us for some time, sharing our conviction that they are already part of us, letting them know that if they have any questions about faith we are available, and inviting them to think about taking up membership. The challenge rests in meeting each person’s individual needs, rather than giving an ‘Eh up! We are running a faith and membership course if anyone is interested.’ For us, long gone are the days when we can hold a yearly confirmation course and expect a crowd to arrive en masse (as per my Anglican upbringing). This might be appropriate in some places where people have similar needs – and we have used this approach before – but I am not convinced it would be right for us now. Some people are seasoned Methodists who can transfer straight in. Others are committed Christians from other denominational backgrounds who need time to acclimatise to our Methodist way of working (and, I hope, gain the confidence to challenge us about how we operate), whilst others are exploring or are new to the faith. Everyone has a different need. So, we are making sure we welcome people but are meeting their needs individually.

Membership, the principle way in which the church measures commitment to a local congregation, can for a challenging issue for some. Personally, I value everything that membership offers; it enables people to affirm their faith, to assert their belonging, to have a say in decisions, and to take up certain roles in the church. However, some people are not comfortable with this formal sense of belonging. Unpacking this is often complex. For me, the objective is not necessarily membership, but assuring people that whatever they decide, we consider that they are part of us and that we want them to make our church their spiritual home. Unconditional love – which is the love that we want people to experience and share as Christians, can by never, by definition, be conditional on membership. The challenge for anyone who dislikes the membership concept however, is to find an alternative system that fulfils our obligations under charity law whilst preventing trusteeship becoming something that rests, in the worst-case scenario, with a small, powerful, but insular group of leaders who decide on everything and ultimately constrain growth.

In these two churches, whilst we have lost some members who have gone up to glory or moved out of the area, we have made new members – and crucially these new members have taken up leadership roles. I take much encouragement from this. It demonstrates that whilst membership figures might make churches appear static, or even in slight decline, the churches concerned have the capacity to welcome and nurture new talent. To welcome newcomers and to help them find a role in the church, irrespective of whether membership appeals to them or not, requires us to understand our purpose in making disciples, and a willingness to adapt. We may need to sit in a different pew (and I mean this both spiritually and practically), to give way to the voices and opinions of others, or to allow someone to take on a task and do it differently to how we would do it – oh, and more than that – to have the humility to thank them when we realise that they have done it better than us.

Challenging the narrative of closure

As I look back on the last four years in Peterborough, it is not so much declining membership or a lack of commitment that has been the major challenge. Rather, the task has been one of helping churches find a way of operating that works for them, especially if they have fewer people to carry out key tasks. It is not only the smaller churches that struggle in this.

More widely, and throughout my ministry, the challenge has been one of reversing what I now term, ‘The narrative of closure’. This, I feel has been embedded across the connexion since well before the advent of fresh expressions. Unconsciously we seem to have sent out the message that unless we can meet every Sunday morning throughout the year (or in the afternoon if you are in a rural area where farming families shaped their worshipping life around tending the herd), we are somehow not a ‘proper’ church. To this day, when regular Sunday worship ceases to be viable, or when we cannot find enough people to fill the necessary roles, local churches collapse in on themselves and fold. Very often there is simply no energy left to explore questions of how they might retain a presence and a mission. People have nailed themselves to the cross of Christ rather than carried it, or carried it for so long that they can carry it no further and have collapsed under its weight.

Quietly, I have banned talk of ‘closure’ in my circuit, in the sense that if there is no other option but to allow this to happen, then so be it. But nationally, I remain unconvinced that the apparent end of the road is really the end of the road for some of our struggling chapels. There are other options whereby a church can remain open; as a class of another church or as a circuit project for example. Often there is the possibility of allowing a local group to fulfil its godly potential, even though it might be judged as sub-ecclesial by others. The irony, especially when there has been a discussion about how smaller churches might be inhibiting our wider mission (by draining resources) is that sometimes they exhibit a level of resourcefulness and community engagement that is disproportionately higher than larger churches who think too much of themselves. This is certainly true of one of my smaller churches which has been the only one to grow its membership recently and raise over £80,000 to repair its roof. More than this, it has been able to couple its fundraising with community development and mission in a way that is seamless. Another of my smaller churches offers its building as a venue (providing a space where young people from other denominations can meet, and being used by community organisations every day of the week). Its most recent innovation has been to start a Foodbank in partnership with Churches Together. Whilst the future might not be entirely secure, at least we are moving forward with integrity.

What do we do with the statistics, and where might fresh expressions fit?

The report is neutral in its tone, but as one would expect it generated considerable discussion at Conference. The role of the Statistics Office is to collect and present our statistics in an accessible and understandable format, and in this, they have excelled. However, my experience of fresh expressions does not fully resonate with the report, which quite correctly states that membership is not the only means of measuring people’s commitment. I find myself wanting to shout from the rooftops that fresh expressions may have an important role in reinvigorating church life. We cannot airbrush them out of the conversation as some phase that seemed like a good idea at the time, but we have now gotten over. My central argument is that by now we must have approaching 3,000 fresh expressions; something that has been widely celebrated over the past decade. If these groups are following the Fresh Expressions definition, these will be ‘new forms of church intended for those who are not yet members of any church’. The question of how many of these churches have what might be termed ‘ecclesial intent’ formed part of my doctoral thesis and my conclusion was that few were thinking in this way. Nonetheless, Fresh Expressions has given rise to a profound shift in attitudes towards creating new fellowship groups, and new forms of mission. In some cases, fresh expressions provide a lifeline to dedicated Methodists who need more than what their local church offers on a Sunday morning. The section on how the Church is focused on AGAPE attendances (Activities, Groups, Associations, Programmes and Events) is deeply encouraging; we are reaching approaching half-a-million people – a third of this activity is focused on work with children and young people; 37,000 attendances report as fresh expressions and 12.7% of new AGAPE activity is fresh expressions based.

Ensuring that Practice and Discipline is fit for purpose

Herein there remains a deep question about how we take other forms of church seriously (which begs the question ‘What is church?’) and how our process and discipline might unlock the potential that we already have in our midst. My research suggested that this was often lacking, and that the ecclesial development within fresh expressions was inhibited, rather than aided, by our practice, discipline, and local church culture. We require membership to form a new church. A new church requires twelve members (whereas in existing churches, this number can decrease to six). Methodist members can be members of only one church. Conference’s response to the memorial referred to a report which acknowledged that, ‘a number of fresh expressions have become churches in the circuit where they reside’ (but this was not qualified in the original). Whilst I welcome our insights being included in the Church’s ongoing reflection, it seems to me that the Methodist Church, whilst attempting to retain the best of its tradition and discipline, is reluctant to reduce its grip on its established process and disciplines. How we apply and interpret these disciplines is also important. Personally, I like the idea of fresh expressions being subject to a different set of Standing Orders.

At present, I believe that we are neutering fresh expressions rather than learning from them. Whilst fresh expressions can grow from local church initiatives or circuit projects, and can begin from a ‘class meeting’ (small group) construct, the requirement of what they must live up to seems decidedly one-sided. It seems incongruous that the Church can, on the one hand, celebrate fresh expressions and on the other, overlook their potential. Or say, ‘That’s great. But when you look like us (the wider church that is in decline) we will consider you valid’. During my research, I reflected a great deal on how our church culture and process denied fresh expressions the warrant to become anything more than circus sideshows to the main event. Perhaps one of the most troubling conclusions was that whilst a minority within the Methodist Church were sceptical of F(f)resh E(e)xpressions, no one was able to offer an alternative. Now we have reached a tipping point. Notice of Motion 110, adopted by Conference, which encourages circuits to form new societies is an interesting one because this is exactly what we hoped some fresh expressions will aspire to become. I suspect that this suggestion might highlight further how our provision and processes for ecclesial formation are a blunt instrument for our present context. Where are these new members going to come from? What church can spare twelve members to form a new church? Does anyone appreciate, in the case of new members, the length of time it takes to nurture people in faith to the point where they may well consider membership? Whilst it is true that new church councils can be supported by members of existing churches, the basic requirement on the number of members required to form a church still stands, and a member cannot belong to two churches in a legal sense (unless you live in another part of the world for half of the year). Whilst there are some circuits that could plant new congregations using a ‘seeding’ model, in many cases this would deplete what we already have. We need a better model of churchplanting other than merging churches, forming LEP’s, setting up circuit projects to authorise work or designating declining churches as ‘fresh expressions’. Whilst these may be effective in some cases (and it would be good to have published examples), in effect, they by-pass route 1 in Standing Orders.

Thinking ahead

It seems to me that our most significant challenge is to recognise where the success stories are, to learn from them, and to pass the lessons on. Admittedly, this is where Fresh Expressions – the national charity composed of representatives from multiple denominations – is at its weakest. It is strong on vision and examples of the work, but weak on the processes, discussions, and authorisations that have given rise to it. In fairness, this is beyond Fresh Expressions remit, since it is committed to renewing churchplanting across multiple denominations; it does not have to concern itself with the details of how this is delivered in partner Churches. Worse than this – and I say this as a proud supporter of Fresh Expressions vision – the movement has constructed its argument on the premise that the Church is failing in its missionary task and that we need to do something different. Whilst they might be right, this is an unhelpful point to press, because if fresh expressions are to be incorporated into the life of the church, its leaders will need to have confidence that Methodism can indeed embrace them. This is precisely where practitioners, having started in the sunshine, end up stumbling about in the dusk. I am not sure that we need more faith in God. I think that we need to have faith in the Methodist Church, and in ourselves, which is quite a different proposition. One thing that I do know is that we will not encourage this by highlighting our failures. Organisational change – and repentance in the gospel – begins by being honest and recognising that the way we are operating is not right, that we need to change, that we can change if we want to, and that this is our responsibility. Finally, I am reminded that we, as ministers are sent into our circuits by the Conference, and that there is a difference between managing decline, and providing leadership when and where it is needed. Let us pray that what has been discussed and proposed at Cconference will indeed have a real impact locally.

Orton Waterville Methodist Church Anniversary & Day of Pentecost – Eucharistic Prayer

PRAYER OF THANKSGIVING:
Pentecost

The Lord be with you:
And also with you
Lift up your hearts:
We lift them to the Lord
Let us give thanks to the Lord our God:
It is right to give Him thanks and praise

God our Father in heaven and here on earth
You move upon us now
as you did on the day of creation.
You breathe new life into us.
You long for us to become your holy people,
living and loving by your commands.
You cleanse us with your holy fire.

When our world becomes oppressive,
you reveal yourself as our comforter,
our helper,
our friend,
and our advocate.
When we face uncertainty
or feel overcome by a cacophony of competing voices,
you speak with clarity,
bringing peace and calm.
When we are ridiculed or oppressed for our faith,
You reveal yourself in Word and deed,
exposing the brittleness of human wisdom.
Throughout the ages,
you have sent priests and prophets
to reassure us of your presence,
and remind us of your Word.
Despite our failings,
your love remains steadfast.
You refuse to turn us away and leave us as orphans.
Abiding in Jesus, your Son,
you came to Earth.
By your death on the Cross,
you show how love can conquer all.
By your resurrection,
you show yourself to be truly divine.
By your tender embrace,
you show yourself to be truly human.
By your words,
you declare that we are forgiven.
Through the work of your Spirit,
you renew us, direct us,
and give us hope for the future.

And so, with the angels and the archangels, with the choirs of heaven,
and with all who have gone before us, we declare:

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.

For generations,
this church has gathered to remember the final meal that
Jesus shared with his disciples.
We remember how they, like us at times, felt insecure,
even fearful of the future,
and longing for your Kingdom to come.
We remember how Jesus gave new life to an ancient rite

We recall how, Jesus took the bread, gave thanks, broke it,
and gave it to his disciples saying
‘Take eat, this is my body, given for you.
Do this in remembrance of me.’
And how after supper, he took the cup of wine,
gave thanks, and gave it to them saying,
‘Drink from this all of you. This is my blood of the new covenant,
poured out for all people for the forgiveness of sins.
Do this in remembrance of me’.

We remember with sorrow how Jesus was betrayed by one of our own.
We remember that he was nailed to a tree, and died.
But we rejoice at the truth of his resurrection.
His ascension to heaven
and his promise to return.

Therefore, as we remember God’s faithfulness in the past,
His presence with us today,
and how our future is at His disposal,
we declare:
Christ has died.
Christ is risen.
Christ will come again.

Loving God, send down your Holy Spirit,
that these gifts of bread and wine may be for us Christ’s body and blood.
Unite us with Christ, refashion us as your people,
and bring us with all creation, to inherit your eternal kingdom.

We break this bread to share in the body of Christ
Jesus Christ is Lord. May the Spirit have his way with us. Praise be to God.

Communion Prayer of Thanksgiving for the 6th Sunday of Easter: The Promise of the Spirit.

The Lord be with you:
And also with you
Lift up your hearts:
We lift them to the Lord
Let us give thanks to the Lord our God:
It is right to give Him thanks and praise

God our Father,
Creator of the Heavens and the Earth,
your Spirit crafts beauty from chaos.
You make us in your image
and form us into your likeness.
When the deceiver comes
your Spirit convicts us
and leads us in the way of truth.
You yearn for us to become your holy people
who will live and love by your command.

When we are enslaved,
you become our advocate,
exposing the oppressor’s illusion of power.
You lead us to freedom,
parting the seas that would overwhelm us.
You send priests and prophets
to reassure us of your presence,
and to remind us of your Word.
You confound all human wisdom.
You reveal yourself as the God of love –
the God of relationship,
whose greatness can never be reflected
in stone or precious jewel.

Despite our failures
your love remains steadfast.
You refuse to turn us away
and leave us orphaned.
Abiding in Jesus your Son,
you came to Earth.
By your death on the Cross,
you show how love can conquer all.
By your resurrection,
you demonstrate your divinity.
Through your tender embrace,
you show yourself to be truly human
By your Word,
you declare that we are forgiven.
Through the work of your Spirit,
you renew us, direct us,
and give us hope for the future.

And so, with the angels and the archangels,
with the choirs of heaven,
and with all who have gone before us, we declare:

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, we remember how,
on the night before our Saviour was betrayed by one of his own
and put to death by those who wanted to extinguish your plans,
Jesus gathered with those, who like us, were perplexed, or felt insecure,
and gave new life to an ancient rite.

He took the bread, gave thanks, broke it,
and gave it to his disciples saying
‘Take eat, this is my body, given for you.
Do this in remembrance of me.’

After supper, he took the cup of wine,
gave thanks, and gave it to them saying,
‘Drink from this all of you. This is my blood of the new covenant,
poured out for all people for the forgiveness of sins.
Do this in remembrance of me.’

As we remember God’s faithfulness in the past,
His presence with us today,
and how our future is at His disposal,
we declare:

Christ has died
Christ is Risen
Christ will come again.

Loving God,
send down your Holy Spirit,
that these gifts of bread and wine
may be for us Christ’s body and blood.
Accept our lives as a sacrifice of praise to you.
Unite us with Christ,
refashion us as your people,
and bring us with all creation,
to inherit your eternal kingdom.

The bread is broken in the sight of the people

We break this bread to share in the body of Christ
Jesus Christ is Lord. May His spirit have his way with us. Praise be to God.

Jesus said, “Don’t let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me.” Monologue in ‘From Peter’s Perspective’…”I pray that they may grow in faith, rather than be suffocated by the anxieties of this life.” Produced for use on the Fifth Sunday of Easter.

I keep thinking back to that conversation when Jesus forgave me and told me to care for the other disciples. I remember the sting of the salt on my face as I wiped my eyes dry. I remember the sense of peace that came with knowing everything was settled, and that surge of tiredness as I let go of my guilt. I remember feeling assured that from that point, Jesus was going to strengthen me. At the same time, I felt a sense of fear – fear of the Lord – as I realised how Jesus had made me responsible for the others. I must not fail.

Until now, I have not been able to take in the rest of what Jesus said. I do remember Him saying that whilst today I am in control of my own destiny, this would change in the future. He said that there would come a time when I would have to stretch out my hands, and that someone else would lead me to where I would not want to go. I am still not quite sure what he meant by that. I shudder at the memory of what Jesus battered body looked like, and the rope burns on his wrists. Does Jesus mean that one day, I will face death just as He did? If so, it does not bear thinking about.

If you had asked me a week ago, I would have said the resurrection is the only thing that defines us. People remember the Essenes because they commit to a life of poverty. People remember the Pharisees for their commitment to the law. People remember the Sadducees for their commitment to the Temple. Meanwhile, we are becoming known as the Christ followers who insist that their leader is not dead. A week ago, still basking in the glory of it all, I would have defined us as the people of the resurrection. Now I am not so sure. You see, the resurrection is only half the story. We cannot celebrate the resurrection without acknowledging that Jesus went through the death. He lived our life, died our death, and bore our griefs. Death and resurrection belong together. At first, this might seem morbid. But this is what has given me comfort as I have questioned what the future holds. If I am killed, I like Jesus will be resurrected. I simply pray that my death is not torturous. If I am taken, I pray that I will be taken quickly. But I do not fear death. None of us does.

Jesus spoke freely and often about the fact that he would be put to death. As I look back I feel humbled – ashamed even – about how we responded, especially when I compare this to the confidence that we have now. The resurrection has secured our faith. I remember when Jesus told us that one day he would have to leave us. ‘Don’t let your hearts be troubled’, He said, ‘Believe in God; believe also in me.’ We lost all sense of proportion. I remember Jesus saying something about His going to heaven and preparing a place for us, and that we would know the way to the place where he was going. But His words made no sense. Thomas became exasperated with Jesus, ‘Lord we do not know where you are going, how can we know the way!’ And then Philip challenged him. He said something like, ‘We’ll believe you when we see this Father in heaven that you keep referring to. Show us the Father!’ Then Jesus berated Philip for his lack of belief. In Jesus mind, Philip had seen enough. How much more did Jesus need to say? How many more miracles did Philip need to see? Meanwhile, I was confused and holding my head in my hands.

I understood where Thomas and Philip were coming from. Until then, we took much of what Jesus said as figurative. He spoke in parables all the time. It was one of the ways in which he used to avoid conflict. Don’t misunderstand me. Jesus was never afraid to confront people – it was simply that if He did so, it would be on his terms. Jesus was a master at speaking in parables, saying enough to allow people to find the truth for themselves, but not so much that he would be arrested. So, often, after Jesus had spoken, we would discuss amongst ourselves whether we thought Jesus meant us to understand Him literally. I remember, on one occasion in the early days, when Jesus declared that he would suffer, be put to death, and then be raised after three days, how I became indignant. I thought he was talking nonsense but he scolded me. ‘Get Behind me Satan’ he said. That put me back in my place.

As we journeyed with Jesus it was easy to accept that he had power over the underworld and all the raging spirits that wreak havoc on us – we had witnessed him calling on God to calm the storm on Galilee. It was easy to accept that God through Jesus could bring healing – we had seen so many healings that we had lost count. It was easy to see that God through Jesus could meet our needs – we had seen him feed five thousand. But we were still unsure, especially when Jesus spoke of his own death, about whether Jesus meant us to understand him literally. It was not until we saw Jesus raise Lazarus from the dead that we began to think this. When we saw how the authorities responded to Him in Jerusalem, the sense of foreboding began to penetrate even deeper. By the time that Mary anointed Jesus’ feet with burial oil, things had become overwhelming. And so, at the beginning of Passover, when Jesus spoke about his dying again, we were all in a very different frame of mind. He said, ‘The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. Anyone who loves their life will lose it, while anyone who hates their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.’

We were beside ourselves. Whilst we accepted that by God’s power, Jesus could raise the dead, the fact that he would not just die, but be executed, seemed to go against all the good that God was doing. And we also began to think about what we stood to lose. Who would lead us? What would become of us? We who had given up so much to follow Jesus? So Jesus’ words of reassurance seemed hollow. As far as Thomas saw it, Jesus had no plan. Philip, ever the practical one, agreed.

I am unconvinced that anyone accepted Jesus’ assurances or his promise that those who believed in Him would do even greater things. That is why I feel so humbled. The resurrection exposed our unbelief. Now we have seen the proof with our own eyes, trusting Jesus is easy. Whilst we might face uncertainties, God has everything in hand. But I pray for those who will, in future, hear those same promises of God, I pray that they will accept what God has to say as a matter of faith. I pray that they will question less than we did. I pray that they will be able to let go of that desire to be in control or to know more than they need to know. I pray this not because this limits God in some way. I pray this so that they will save themselves the grief and panic that we felt. I pray this so that they may grow in faith, rather than be suffocated by the anxieties of this life. And as for us, if death is indeed around the corner, we will not be distracted because we rest secure in the knowledge that death is not the end. Whilst we long for Jesus to be with us, we know that he is present in a different way. We are still receiving reports of how he is appearing to others. We know that he will return, but meanwhile, God is moving so powerfully that we have little time to sit and contemplate.

Jesus said, “Don’t let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me.” We lost all sense of proportion. Now Jesus has been raised from the dead, we see things differently…

I keep thinking back to that conversation when Jesus forgave me and told me to care for the other disciples. When you look back, what you remember about your most sacred moments is curious. I remember the sting of the salt on my face as I wiped my eyes dry. I remember that sense of peace that came with knowing everything was settled, and that surge of tiredness as I finally allowed myself to let go of all that guilt. After working through the night, I was ready to sleep for a week and struggling to concentrate. I remember how I absorbed the fact that Jesus was going to build me up again, and there would be no let-up in the responsibility that had given me. After that, my immediate thoughts, what with Jesus saying ‘Tend my lambs’ and ‘Feed my sheep’, were of how Jesus expected me to lead, following his example as the Good Shepherd.

I have not been able to take in the rest of what Jesus said until now.  I do remember Him pointing out that whilst I am in control of my own destiny today, in the future that would change. He said that there would be a time when I would have to stretch out my hands, and that someone else would lead me to where I would not want to go. I am not quite sure what he meant. Until now, the resurrection has dominated all our thinking. We have been overpowered by life. But now, as I remember Jesus’ words I shudder at the memory of what Jesus battered body looked like, and the sores on his wrists that came from where the guards had bound him. Does Jesus mean that one day, I will face opposition and death just as He did? If so, it does not bear thinking about.

If you had asked me a week ago, I would have said the resurrection is the only thing that defines us. People remember the Essenes because they commit to a life of poverty. The Pharisees are remembered for their commitment to the law. The Sadducees are remembered for their commitment to the Temple. Meanwhile, we are becoming known as the people who follow Jesus and believe in the resurrection. This has been God’s way of telling us that Jesus is indeed, His Son. The resurrection has coloured everything and is forcing us to think about Jesus’ teaching in a different light. So yes, a week ago, still basking in the glory of it all, I would have said that we were the people of the resurrection. Today, however, I am not so sure. You see, the resurrection is only half the story. We cannot celebrate the resurrection without acknowledging that Jesus went through the death. He lived our life, died our death, and bore our griefs. Death and resurrection belong together. At first, this might seem morbid. But this is what has given me comfort as I have questioned what the future holds. If I am killed, I like Jesus will be resurrected. I just pray that my death is not a torture. If I am taken, I pray that I am taken quickly. But I do not fear death. None of us do.

I feel humbled when I think about the difference between how we responded as disciples when Jesus predicted his death, and the people that we now becoming. We still miss Jesus but we know he is present – and besides, reports of how he is revealing himself to others are still reaching us. We know that he will return, but meanwhile, God is moving so powerfully that we do not have time to sit around and contemplate. The resurrection has made our faith in God more secure. We are so different compared to how we first responded when Jesus told us that one day he would leave us. ‘Don’t let your hearts be troubled’, he said. ‘Believe in God; believe also in me.’ The minute he said that we lost all sense of proportion. I remember Jesus saying something about His going to heaven and preparing a place for us, and that we would know the way to the place where he was going. But Jesus words made no sense to us. I remember Thomas becoming exasperated with Him, ‘Lord we do not know where you are going, how can we know the way!’ And then Philip challenged him. He said something like, ‘We’ll believe you when we see this Father in heaven that you keep referring to. Show us the Father!’ Then Jesus berated Philip for his lack of belief. In Jesus mind, Philip had seen enough. How much more did Jesus need to say? How many more miracles did Philip need to see? Meanwhile, I was confused and holding my head in my hands.

I could see where Thomas and Philip were coming from. Up until now, we took much of what Jesus said as figurative. He spoke in parables all the time. It was one of the ways in which he used to avoid conflict. Don’t misunderstand me. Jesus was prepared to confront – but he was always in control of what would happen, and when. Jesus was a master at speaking in parables, saying enough to allow people to find the truth for themselves, but not so much that he would be arrested. So, often, after Jesus had spoken, we would discuss amongst ourselves whether we thought Jesus meant us to understand Him literally. I remember, on one occasion in the early days, when Jesus declared that he would suffer, be put to death, and then be raised after three days, how I became indignant. I thought he was talking nonsense but he scolded me. ‘Get Behind me Satan’ he said. That put me back in my place.

As we journeyed with Jesus it was easy to accept that he had power over the underworld and all the raging spirits that wreak havoc on us – we had witnessed him calling on God to calm the storm on Galilee. It was easy to accept that God through Jesus could bring healing – we had seen so many healings that we had lost count. It was easy to see that God through Jesus could meet our needs – we had seen him feed five thousand with five loaves and two fish. But we were still unsure, especially when Jesus spoke of his own death, about what he meant. It was not until we saw Jesus raise Lazarus from the dead that we began to grasp that he might be speaking literally. We became aware that the authorities were already plotting to kill Jesus and we fled to Jerusalem. Jesus followed on later. When we witnessed the scenes in Jerusalem this sense of foreboding became even sharper. Things became unbearable. When Mary anointed Jesus feet with burial oil it was as if she was giving up and accepting his fate. And so, when, at the beginning of Passover, Jesus spoke about his dying again, we were in a very different frame of mind. He said, ‘The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. Anyone who loves their life will lose it, while anyone who hates their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.’

We were beside ourselves. Whilst we could accept that Jesus could raise other people from the dead, the fact that he would be put to death seemed an affront to what God was doing. We did not have the capacity to believe that God could raise Him from the dead. All we thought about was how his death would be a failure, and what we had to lose. Who would lead us? What would become of us? We who had given up so much to follow Jesus. His words of reassurance seemed hollow. As far as Thomas saw it, Jesus had no plan. There was no instruction of what we should do when the time came. Philip, ever the practical one, agreed. Philip had faith, but he did not have enough faith to simply trust Jesus’ Word.

I am not sure that anyone accepted Jesus’ assurances, or his promise that those who believed in Him would do even greater things. We were preoccupied with our questions and, if I am honest, thinking only of our own survival. That is why I feel so humbled. Our lack of faith has been exposed. Now we have seen the resurrection; the proof with our own eyes, it is much easier to believe. It is much easier to accept that God has everything in hand than was the case before. But I pray for those who will, in future, hear the promises of God – that they will question less than we did. I pray that they will be able to let go of that desire to be in control or to know more than they need to know, so that they can receive all the blessings that God has for them. At times, our scepticism, or our desire to know God’s plans in detail, undermines what God can do. As for us, we will concern ourselves only with what today brings and strive to live faithfully for God. And if death is indeed around the corner, we will not be distracted because we rest secure in the knowledge that death is not the end.

 

Reflections on Cafe Worship and how it can improve the depth of teaching and quality of engagement for those who attend.

At our last Local Preachers and Worship Leaders meeting we talked about alternative worship, and in specific café worship. But what is café worship, and how might we prepare for it? I have some empathy with this, since I think I have only attended one or two different cafe worship services myself. Thankfully, there is plenty of information on the Fresh Expressions website outlining how café worship can be a valid expression of worship and church. As I reflected on how I would plan my own cafe worship at a local church, and what worked in practice, I am minded that there are some things that can be done in this environment that would be harder to achieve in our usual settings.

I began preparing by questioning how the layout of, and activity in café worship might improve the quality of engagement and depth of teaching that we aspire towards on Sunday mornings. This is not to say that one is better or worse than the other. It is to say that each has their own strengths. I began to suspect that, done well, café worship might provide:

Planning Café worship – linking with a worship leader

It has been some time since I have led café worship at Brookside Methodist Church, but I was able to offer myself on Easter Sunday. Brookside offered a worship leader to assist. She shared earlier in the week how she had been thinking about the ‘stone from the tomb being rolled away’, and what ‘stones’ might symbolise for those who would be present. She had already thought about how café worship could use a prayer activity which symbolised how, by the power of the Holy Spirit, God could remove that which burdened us. I think that this is significant; café worship began with a member of the congregation who was already thinking about the theme. This naturally matched the Easter story in the gospels. We agreed that I would lead the opening worship and the teaching, and she would select the songs and lead a prayer activity.

Planning Café worship – thinking about teaching

Introduction

I was mindful of Hope Revolution and their link with Guvana B, a Christian Gospel/Rap Artist who has won major awards. As part of his ministry, Guvna B has produced a music video entitled ‘Cannonball’ that incorporates powerful sketch/art cartoon illustrations, and some stunning lyrics. I asked the Church to prepare and play the video by passing the internet link to them. Anyone who uses a PC or a tablet can search and find material (but I appreciate that not all local preachers are skilled in doing this, or that all churches are able to do this – but I am sure that there would be help available provided you plan in good time). I printed the lyrics out separately – because they flowed so quickly.

Teaching

I have been studying John’s gospel as part of the Lent Course – and I found myself naturally comparing John’s version of events with the other gospel writers. In terms of where the teaching might be headed I thought it would be useful to focus (a) on the ‘supernatural’ signs of God’s presence that were present in each account, and (b) to ask people the question, ‘In spiritual terms, what might the ‘stone’ represent?’ This would be the core of the teaching and reflection.

Café worship at Brookside takes place around tables, and as I thought things through I realised that it would be easier to (a) print out different gospel accounts in different colours and cut away all margins – this simply makes life easier, and (b) each table could have a different account and work through these questions independently, in two stages; so we took the first question; people discussed on their own; then we collated all of our thoughts from each table. We then repeated the process with the second question.

This is a good example of where we allow the congregation to feedback, and our job as preachers is to ‘fill in the gaps’ that are missed.  In my case I also wanted to set the second conversation on the right trajectory by pointing out what John in his gospel omits; no earthquake, no temple curtain split, no guards (I drew from my earlier preparation for morning worship here, where I had noted that in Matthew, the resurrection miracle begins the minute Jesus dies, with the earthquake opening the graves and the dead being raised to new life). I make the point that whilst these things are significant, John omits them because he does not need them to put his argument across – and that indeed, if he did include them they may well have complicated his presentation. John is interested in telling us that Jesus is the Son of God (we remembered the ‘I am’ sayings), and that he wants us to do four things; recognise Jesus, accept Jesus, make our peace with Jesus, and follow Jesus’ calling. This then leads nicely into the second section, where we question what the stone might stand for – what prevents this from happening? I was also able to show how the fact that Jesus has been resurrected slowly dawned on some of the characters in the story (note how in Luke, the apostles did not believe the women – although the story is told slightly differently elsewhere. In John, Peter and the beloved disciple believed when they looked into the grave, but there was no evidence that they believed Jesus had been resurrected, they just believed Mary’s was speaking the truth when she said that Jesus body had gone!)

It may be worth noting that as well as the teaching having depth because we were looking and comparing four different gospel sources (this is something that instantly beings a level of maturity to our reading, treatment and interpretation of scripture), I was also minded link with the Old Testament as particular themes surfaced. For example, the concept of having a ‘heart of stone’ is within Jer 32 (and we also remembered how God transforming our heart of stone is a key lyric in ‘I The Lord of Sea and Sky’). If the theme of ‘oppression’ were to surface there are multiple entry points, but the most obvious is the release of Israel from slavery. As I spoke of John’s focus on the ‘I am’ sayings of Jesus, I referred to Moses experience of the burning bush.

Thus, when I have led café worship, I both respond to what the congregation are saying by providing further explanation, and steering the conversation towards a focal point in prayer.

Café Worship: Enabling encounter

In a sense, the entire act of worship is designed to encounter God, but for the prayers, people were invited to hold a stone (originally people were going to write on a stone or paint it and to perhaps mark it with the symbol of an experience or feeling that was holding us back from God). As we remembered the opening theme of ‘Cannonball’ (that Jesus is like a cannonball from heaven who crashes to earth and destroys death and all that oppresses), people were invited to take their stone and place it on a bowl of water. The worship leader walked everyone through this activity, and shared how the stone was symbolic of the shattered (or moved) stones of the cemetery, and of how God cleanses us and removes the blemishes that are upon us.

The sample order of service

The service lasted about an hour and a quarter. I noticed how, rather like Messy Church, the adults helped the younger children to take part – and how their input at times was enthusiastic and profound. The order, with the songs interspersed, looked like this:

Intro to theme: Jesus as a cannonball/God longing to release us from all that oppresses. The stone was rolled away. Today we will think about how God was present in power, and we will also think about what the stone might symbolise for us

Cannonball video

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jI-ZtaSOGkA 

Langley highlight the lyrics (which will be on the table)

Resurrection reading from Luke’s gospel

2 Songs on Video – God sent his Son (Because he Lives); Up from the grave he rose

…..eating cake and drinking tea is possible from now – note however, everyone munched all the way through, but I do not think that this limited discussion/engagement.

Encourage people to look at other passages (printed out) and discuss – Matthew 28:1-15; Matthew 27:50-54; Mark 16:1-20; John 20; 3-29 (Each can fit on a single sheet).

What are the supernatural signs from God?

Feedback and dialogue

What does the stone stand for?

Feedback and dialogue

Prayer activity – Worship Leader

Song – Rejoice Rejoice

Repeat of Cannonball video.

 

Refection: What was prominent and what was less so?

Whilst the teaching and reflection elements of the service were strong (I am not sure of any regular services where we have been able to present all four accounts of a single gospel event), prayer was focused, albeit concentrated, in one area. If I were to do this again, I would probably incorporate a prayer of confession and the Lord’s Prayer towards the end of the prayer activity. Even so, there were aspects of penitence in the stone exercise. Prayers for each other, or the needs of the wider world were also not particularly prominent. This said, the service would have been ideal for people who were exploring faith. In its current form the service is for leaders and churchgoers who are seeking worship that engages them differently. The service was also very strong on fellowship and avoided any notion or pretence that could get in the way – about wear people should sit, how they should behave etc.

Perhaps one of my ongoing apprehensions is how you lead worship, and perhaps work though some important teaching point whilst everyone is eating cakes. This said, my experience was that this did not detract. I did however have to think about how I minimised movement during the worship – because movement distracts when you are trying to prevent, and also makes noise. I did this by suggesting that people loaded up on coffee/tea at the beginning of the table exercises.

What surprised me?

I was most surprised by how the children engaged and how the adults enabled this, with the children highlighting the signs from God. I was encouraged (but not surprised) by the depth of analysis that came from each of the tables. There was a depth of contextual understanding which people had gathered from TV programmes – about for example, how the gravestones were designed. I was really pleased to be asked some direct questions; ‘Did the Jews believe in the resurrection’? I was not expecting (but welcomed) a sustained focus on how God brings healing – especially from past hurts, which came from one of our local preachers. This was particularly useful on the lead up to the stones exercise.

Closing remarks

This experience, and my subsequent thoughts, reminds me of the critique made by the Church Army (which is a mission arm of the CofE) about how established Churches have the tendency to overplay the importance of ‘function’ and underplay the importance of ‘relationship’. To put it simply, whilst I can ask myself questions about what the worship included (as if we need to complete all items in some checklist for an act of worship to be ‘proper’), this rather misses the point.

Café church, as it unfolded for me, was all about relationships. It begins with the relationships and fellowship that people have with each other. People reflect both individually and together. They gather (just as the first believers did) around the person of Jesus, sharing, and doing life together. There is a clear intent (as should be the case in any form of worship) to bring people to a moment of encounter with God. This raises an interesting question for all our worship preparation – how are we bringing our congregations to this place of encounter? When we share in communion, this focus is clearer, but what about how we move people to a point of encounter and response in our preaching. I must be honest and say that in my own services, the encounter is presumed and sits somewhere after the sermon and before the prayers of intercession.

I think that another important difference between how I approached this café worship service, and how I approach preaching services, is that often in my services (apart from all-age worship) a lot of the focus is on me – or rather (I hope) on God speaking through me. However, in café worship the role of the preacher seems to be to facilitate conversation, with a much greater emphasis on what God is saying through the congregation. However, to prepare for café worship, preachers will need to prepare just as hard (if not more) than they would if they were preparing a regular service. They will also have to be confident with their material to the point that they are comfortable answering questions.

What’s with the Clownfish and why we should love our anemone.

If you look carefully you will see that the clownfish is at home in the tentacles of the sea anemone. They live in a mutual relationship; in symbiosis. The clownfish protects the sea anemone by feeding off predators and emitting a high-pitched sound. Meanwhile, the sea anemone protects the clownfish as it is immune to its stinging tentacles. There is something in this relationship which reflects the balance of independence and mutuality that must be present in churches and fresh expressions (as new forms of church) in order for them to mature. This thinking can be extrapolated to include New Places, New people projects that sit within the Methodist Church’s God for All strategy.

One has to be honest and say that there is a point where the beautiful image breaks down – and that is in that what the clownfish does not need (and excretes away), nourishes the anemone! Nevertheless, this remains a powerful example.  As my former presbyter colleague, Rev Gareth Baron put it at a circuit meeting, we need to learn to ‘love our anemone’. (Let’s face it, everyone loves Nemo, but whilst many people are attracted to fresh expressions, the wider church has a crucial role.)

Rev Dr Rowan Williams, a former Archbishop of Canterbury, once coined the phrase, ‘a mixed economy of Church.’ At the time he was responding to tensions within the Church of England between what had been inherited and what was emerging. His response was to argue that leaders should strive to develop a mutuality between the two. Whilst fresh expressions –  or any kind of venture involving new Christians – have much to learn from the inherited church, the inherited church would do well to heed the lessons that originate from the honest appraisal of those who view the church with fresh eyes. This extends to other areas of Church mission and matters of policy in general where questions of orthopraxis grate so clearly against our orthodoxy. Herein, those of us who should be wiser need to guard against a degree of paternal arrogance that assumes that we know best. As repeated 3Generate Manifestos produced by the Methodist Church so clearly highlight, whilst we recognise that we have a responsibility to nurture our children and young people, we must not overlook that God can and is already speaking prophetically through them. The danger is, of course, that rather than being part of the body, children and youth are seen as an addition that we attend to occasionally, where we assume that our ‘adult’ way of seeing the world is always right.

Rev Graham Horsley, former Churchplanting Secretary of the Methodist Church and latterly Fresh Expressions Missioner has suggested the phrase ‘mixed ecology of church’ might be more useful. It speaks of a living relationship and encourages us to understand that this is characterised by dependence on each other, where our very existence is in the balance, rather than a one-sided relationship, where what is new-born exists at the good intention and well-meaning of what is mature and growing older.

The literature survey that I carried out for my doctoral research shows that whilst the wider church needs to reflect on its attitudes towards fresh expression, some fresh expressions leaders – and beyond that, commentators within the emerging church movement, seem to favour the idea of jettisoning the tradition of the Church, and starting anew from ground zero. Significantly, one of the points I made in my thesis about Fresh Expressions is that it risked becoming a victim of its own rhetoric. On the one hand, Fresh Expressions makes the case that the inherited Church is failing in its mission, and therefore there is a need for a novel approach. On the other, it has to convince people to remain within the institution. If you are a clownfish you need the anemone – and vice-versa.

He was like a cat in a snake pit when the leaders challenged Him. He declared, “I am the gate for the sheep…I am the good shepherd.” I have no option but to lead by example.

The weight of that conversation is still sitting heavily on my soul. ‘Do you love me more than these?’, ‘Do you love me?’, ‘Do you love me?’…‘Feed my lambs.’ ‘Take care of my sheep.’ ‘Feed my sheep.’ As if it were not enough for Jesus to forgive me and make his peace with me, he then tells me to look after everyone. I know that God can do all things through the power of the spirit but, at the same time, I am aware of how fragile and vulnerable I will become if I do anything but trust in God. I am conscious that there is no room to be lukewarm in my commitment. It is either all or nothing. It is like standing with my back on the edge of a precipice but looking forward to paradise. I am still fearful that I might lose my balance and fall back.

I must admit that despite all that Jesus is, how he speaks of the others seems quite old-fashioned. Almost romantic. No one could describe any of us as pretty! Quite the opposite. Most of us are hardy, practical people. Some of us look more like spent wrestlers than rabbis. None of us looks vulnerable, like lost sheep But I understand what Jesus is saying and why he is saying it. We might look strong and rugged on the outside but on the inside, we are weak. How we all behaved (apart from the women) – how we all scattered and denied all knowledge of Jesus once he was taken from us – shows what the worst in us can amount to if we lack courage. I also understand that Jesus is pointing to how God wants his leaders to be good shepherds of the sheep, and how I must be different from those who have failed in the past. Part of me wants to be a leader; the part that wants to react, confront and commit. Meanwhile, another part of me so easily longs for the journey to end here, and to settle for the quiet life. Sometimes I have the boldness of a lion, but the timidity of a mouse.

I was thinking the other day and remembered that time when we were travelling with Jesus, and He spoke about how he was the ‘gate for the sheep’. It took place just at the point where things were beginning to turn nasty. We were in Galilee and we knew that some of the leaders were already plotting to kill Jesus. So, we urged him to go to Judea. We thought, ‘What have we got to lose?’ If we stayed in Galilee, the authorities would catch up with us. Besides, how could Jesus raise his profile whilst hiding away in some rural backwater? In the end, we went on ahead and Jesus followed in secret. We could see the tension between the leaders and the crowds. They were losing their grip. The scent of fear was already in the air. Those who wanted to know about where Jesus was, or say anything positive, whispered it. Then, halfway through the festival, Jesus appeared at the temple and began to preach.

He was like a cat in a snake pit as the teachers of the law questioned his authority and ridiculed him when they saw the people’s hopes raised. When the people began to think for themselves and question whether Jesus could, indeed, be the Messiah, the leaders tried to ridicule Him, along with anyone who supported him, by saying that he was demon possessed. But Jesus confounded them all with his plain-speaking, his claim that he had been sent by God, and the promises that he made to the people. The truth has something about it that is resistant to ridicule; the more they tried to decry Jesus, the worst they looked. Then, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus came across some Pharisees and Teachers who were about to stone a woman for adultery. Again, the leaders tried to undermine him, by asking whether he would obey the law. Jesus silenced them by writing on the ground. I don’t know what he wrote before wiping it clean, but whatever it was, they shuddered with apprehension. When Jesus said, ‘Let he who has no sin cast the first stone’ they scattered. These exchanges were relentless. On another occasion, as Jesus talked with the people and declared that he had been sent by God, the authorities were keen to twist this and accuse him of blasphemy. But Jesus was clever. He said enough for the people to make up their own minds, helping them to piece together the fragments with answers that all pointed in the same direction. I remember one of the clearest statements being, ‘You are from below, I am from above.’ He was nonetheless still lucky to escape intact. Then, the final straw for Jesus came on the Sabbath, when he healed a man who was born blind. Despite all the evidence – not only from the man who was healed, from all those who had seen the change in him, and from his parents, the Pharisees would still not accept that Jesus was from God. Jesus, the misfit from Nazareth, whose parentage was questionable, and who did not possess any formal learning qualification, did not fit their understanding of the kind of person that God could be at work in, let alone the kind of person who could lead a band of disciples and form a community.

Then Jesus lost it. To be honest, he did not lose it. Jesus never did anything without reason. But it was one of the few times – apart from when he turned the tables in the temple – when I saw an outpouring of His righteous anger. He was indignant. He shouted, ‘I am the gate for the Sheep’…‘I am the good shepherd…’All who have come before me are thieves and robbers’…’I am the gate…whoever enters through me will be saved. In other words, I am not like these leaders. I am faithful: they are not. I can be trusted: they cannot. My message comes from God and is pure: their message is human and self-centred. But the Pharisees could not understand Jesus’ figures of speech. So he pressed the point home relentlessly. He declared with such force; ‘I am the gate; whoever enters by me will be saved. They come to rob, kill and destroy: I have come that they might have life, and have it to the full.’ In other words; ‘Choose Life. Choose me and only me.’ The response from the leaders was much the same. Discredit Jesus by saying that he was demon possessed. But not all of them were convinced. Some did begin to think. If Jesus was possessed, how come he managed to heal the blind man in the first place.

As I think about Jesus being the gate I am led to think about my role, and how Jesus is urging me to stay with – to abide with them. I am just realising that to follow him is to give my life to this work and to support the others. It is to live, breathe and sleep alongside them. It is to preserve His teachings nd deter those who would prefer to domesticate them – or to distort them do that they might be used to justify and armed uprising. Our task is to follow Jesus wherever He leads. The Kingdom of at God is in hand. God is doing a new thing. There is no room for being lukewarm or complacent. Stepping back is not an option.

…Inspired by the Methodist Church 3Generate Manifestos for 2017: Avoid the elephant trap of trying to speak for young people. Simply make sure that their voice is heard.

Instead of speaking for young people, the Methodist Church continues to enable their voice to be heard; a subtle but significant difference. Yesterday, I attended a meeting of the Eastern Central Regional Development and Learning Forum. My role is to serve as an advocate for the network, and it has been great to hear about all the good work that the team are doing across the Lincolnshire, Northampton, and Nottingham and Derbyshire Districts. One area where I was especially encouraged, was in how the Methodist Church is continuing to develop 3Generate, a weekend of action-packed and inspiring events that allow fun, faith and friendship to combine, whilst taking seriously what children and young people have to say about what they think the Church should be like. Oh. And here’s the really penetrating bit. The children and young people are not just talking about what the Church should be like for them. They are talking about their vision of what the Church should be – for everyone.

In 2016, 3 Generate welcomed over 600 young people, ranging from the ages of 8 to 23. I find this material inspiring and I am encouraging my own circuit to consider what might be the best way of incorporating these themes into our worship, preaching, and mission. The 8-11’s steam in particular long for a Wonderful Church, filled with Wonderful People, who speak in a Wonderfully Prophetic way to create a Wonderful World. The 11-18’s raise the profile of poverty, mental health, school life (pointing to how the pressure to achieve is suffocating their ability to become their true selves), extremism, and how the Methodist Church responds to the needs of refugees. The 18-23’s call for the Church to understand young people better, to enable them to witness more effectively through acts of mercy, to recognise that all people – not only ministers – are called by God, and, once again, to find ways in which the Church can encourage more openness and constructive dialogue about mental health issues.

The great thing about this manifesto is that it enables the voice of young people to be heard in contexts where they are not present. It is a tool against insularity, and a means by which the Methodist Church can remain true to its roots in asserting that no congregation ever exists in isolation: we are all connected to each other. The Apostle Paul reminds us that in Christ we are all one body and that we should think carefully about how we see ourselves in comparison with others. We all have different gifts. We all have a function and – by proxy – if one part of the body does not function, we all suffer. The 3Generate manifesto reminds us that young people are not the junior part of the Church who we should appease by breaking our cycle of ‘adult’ worship for a ‘children’s’ or a ‘family service’. Neither should young people be attended to because they are the Church of tomorrow – rather, young people are the Church of today, valid, and bringing a perspective that we need to take seriously. The 3Generate manifestos are a prophetic call to action.

So praise God for the Methodist Church in how they have avoided the elephant trap of speaking on behalf young people and ensuring that the focus, instead, is on enabling young peoples’ voices to be heard.

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