Just one step at a time

Pete Rollins has an interesting post about Christians who continue to go to and be involved in churches they no longer believe in.

Interesting for me because I’m in a place where I’m not sure how much I agree with the church’s vision and direction. Mainly because for all the pomp and circumstance surrounding our Mission Action Plan, there seems to be little else than Alpha and riding on the back of 2 projects that few of the congregation are involved in. I did say seems.

We’ve also been through a tough 2 or 3 years, what with numerous complaints from members of the congregation who didn’t agree with changes the vicar was making - and one complaint reaching all the way to the Bishop of London. Plus issues with staffing, a major building project and moving 2 congregations into 1 as a result of this project.

Yet communication is appalling. Things get changed and moved without the people who need to know being told. It’s not only frustrating but disheartening. You make suggestions: they get ignored. Or rather, forgotten. You speak, but you’re not heard. And yet I am on the church council.

Why do I stay? Because I felt God moved me here, and as yet I can’t figure out why. Unless it’s not about my being in the church that’s the reason he moved me, and about the place I live.

Why do I stay in leadership? Because someone needs to try and stand up to the clergy when they’re heading off down paths noone except the faithful few (and by that I mean faithful to them, not necessarily to Jesus) wants to follow.

I once had a conversation, during all the complaints, with the vicar’s wife, where she told me that church is not a democracy. And I responded that it’s not a dictatorship either. The vicar comes from the church I used to go to, and the vicar at that church once shouted at me during a church council meeting because I wanted a point clarified! But then he apparently had a breakdown last year, which being a control-freak can lead to.

The ultimate question is should I stay or should I go? Part of the India thing was, I think, an opportunity to legitimately run away from the situation. To say I’m going to follow God’s call and go overseas is the perfect excuse to leave a church you’re not happy in.

To stand up and say “I’m going because I don’t agree with what you’re doing” is hard for many reasons. Firstly because I have - or had? - a friendship with the vicar. Secondly because I would miss my friends. But thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, because I can’t concretely voice what it is I don’t like. I just don’t.

Ironically, during the sermon yesterday, the vicar said that God often calls us into difficult places. A certain irony there, I feel!

One of the questions put to Jim Wallis last night was what can we do about the vast number of young people involved in crime. Particularly with 14 teenagers having died in London since January, and the number of violent crimes being committed on the increase. Or at least, in the news more.

• An 18-year-old was stabbed to death on Saturday morning.
• 2 17-year-olds are critical after being shot on Saturday morning.

Jim talked about a group of mega church leaders in Ohio meeting together and a similar theme came up in their meeting. So one of the church leaders went out on to the street to find out why this was such a problem. And talked to a heroin dealer.

Who told him: the most crucial time for school-age kids is between 4pm and midnight. They’re out of school, they’re running errands, they’re hanging out with their friends. And the dealers are there, hanging out on the corners, talking to them, making friends. And because of that, they win. They win the kids over to addiction and gangs and violence.

So the churches worked together to get people on the streets, to talk to the kids, to befriend them, to get them away from the influence of the dealers and gang leaders. And apparently they’ve seen a dramatic decrease in the amount of violence and crime on the streets.

Jim Wallis was over here in the UK, and I’m very grateful a friend let me know he would be talking a church.co.uk about his new book Seven Ways to Change the World.

A few nuggets. He didn’t tell us the 7 ways, and although I bought the book, I’ve not got that far, having found a bunch of friends there too, so went to the pub after.

• When asked what had been the things that had got him most into trouble: Going the places you’re not supposed to go, particularly as a white, middle class Christian. Walking past those invisible ‘No Trespassing!’ signs.
• The 2 big hungers in this world are for spirituality and social action. And the movement that combines both of this will set the world on fire.
• People will get excited about this different kind of faith.
• We’re not to just ignore bad news. Revival is the good news for bad news.
• Politics is broken.
• The most effective social movements - Great Awakenings - have happened when politics has failed to address a major social injustice, and have always had a spiritual foundation.
• Faith is what moves the mountains that are the seemingly impossible social injustices: poverty, trafficking, climate change, racial injustice, and so on.
• Social change requires commitment from each one of us. We need to start in our own lives, lead in our communities and that will make a difference on a bigger scale.
• It takes time. Wilberforce put his first Bill forward 9 times, and it took another 30 years before the slave trade itself was made illegal.
• Charles Finney ‘invented’ the altar call; and got each new Christian to sign up to the anti-slavery movement there and then.
• God needs to be real and personal to sustain the commitment and faith that moves mountains.
• Hope is a choice. Cynicism comes from unsuccessful attempts to bring about a change, but instead of persisting, cynicism gives up and declares nothing can ever change.
• Hope means believing in spite of the evidence. Then watching the evidence change.
• Bad religion calls out of us our bad stuff. We’ve seen a lot of bad religion. We want to see more good religion, which calls out of us our good stuff: compassion, action and so on..

Oh, and I didn’t realise he was married to the REAL Vicar of Dibley, one of the first women to be ordained in the UK, who went on to advise Richard Curtis and Dawn French on the show.

Hat tip to Honest Faith for posting this video, showing how can can mess people up when we tell them about Jesus.

I’m ashamed to say, I see an element of myself in this.

I come from a family who likes to share information. Some of us don’t necessarily talk to each other; but we always know what the other is up to. I like to know things. I like to share information. I’ve never really thought of myself as a gossip per se, because most of what I share is about my thoughts and feelings about a situation. But that’s still not necessarily right. But then, if I don’t want to talk about Heather Mills’ divorce settlement, or where Madeline might be, and can’t talk about theology to everyone, then that thing that connects us all is those we know.

But at what point does that become gossip?

I’ve done prayer ministry training. I can honestly say that I don’t use the opportunity to pray with someone as an opportunity to find out stuff about them to share with others (unless it’s illegal!). I’m on the church council, which means I’m party to knowledge not everyone in the church knows about. I’ve have worked in human resources and know about confidentiality. But sometimes you have to talk to someone about what’s in your head, else you go mad.

And it’s how you deal with it that’s the crux of the gossip issue. If the whole point of sharing it to make them look bad, then that’s wrong. If it’s speculation, which can colour your opinion (often wrongly) about a person, then that’s wrong.

We’ve had a lot of horrible things going on at church over the last 2 years. And I’ve come to the stage where I can’t talk to people about it anymore, because (almost) every conversation turns into a mess of speculation, anger and hurt. Which is not good or healthy. Rather than sitting down and praying together for the person doing the damage or hurting us, we vent instead. I’m as guilty as that as the next man or woman.

And I don’t want to be like that anymore. It’s become clear after conversations with my parents where I get this from. It’s also become clear as they’ve been going through a nasty situation at their church, and I’ve found myself telling them they’re not supposed to know all the details of complaints as they’re not on the leadership, that I find my leadership position a good way of knowing everything. So when I hear of difficulties in a church I used to go to, I try to stop myself putting 2 + 2 together and making 5; and try to stop myself asking for the information that only those who are in leadership there know about.

I don’t need to know.

As much as I want to, it’s not my right to know. And what would knowing achieve? A warm feeling of power because I hold this information? That’s wrong, sinful.

I’ve stopped telling everyone everything. I talk to some people about some things, other about other things, and a small handful everything. Well, 99%. I blog because this is a way of sharing some of the stuff that’s trapped in my head. You see, I’m a processor. I have to talk through a problem to deal with it. And sometimes I can’t do any ‘real’ talking. So I diarise the stuff I can’t blog about. But mostly I blog. Though it’s a little more hit and miss.

Maybe it’s becoming less important for me to process? I find I’m having more of those head conversations with God - prayer, though not formalised - about stuff. Turning it upwards when I can’t deal with it.

I need to figure out how to change those friendships that have been based on gossip into something deeper. And more prayerful.

[Image from a post at The Ongoing Adventures of ASBO Jesus.]

Check out the Squirrel Revival.

The funniest thing I have seen in a long, long, long time!

Hat tip to Dave Walker.