George Carey Gets Lairy

Courtesy of paulvallely.com

Those of you who know me know well what I think of anything that smacks of passive-aggression. It is a scourge, a curse and a flim-flammery - the shadow in the blogosphere and the peril that threatens the very credibility of Christianity in this country. There is nothing worse than an individual or organisation licking its non-existent wounds and baying like a wounded puppy in the wake of injuries that just don't exist. 

I am a loyalist, as you know. I respect the place and persons of the episcopacy, and regard myself as duty-bound by my Orders to respect those in ecclesial authority. I am not one who comfortably launches invective at senior bishops! But I will make an exception ...

It is Easter. It is a time of joy, hopefulness, new life, bursts of new faith, and all-round rapturous happiness in the lives of us God-botherers. My church was full this Easter, literally. The God of the Resurrection is all mighty, all powerful, all loving, has the plan sorted, can be trusted, knows what He is doing, built things like mountains and stars and that, and on the whole is not going to be easily supplanted. Oh no - not one bit of it. 

And yet my Lord and sometime Archbishop of Canterbury perceives a threat to it all. From the secularists who seem to want it all their own way, apparently. George says 'no'. Once again, it seems that the entire Missio Dei hinges on whether some lovey wears her crucifix on the outside of her uniform rather than under it. It seems that God's entire universal purpose in the whole of Creation is threatened when people are stopped from unilaterally imposing their own theologies on others. Want to do something? Only if I agree with your moral fibre, sir! Then I will allow you. 

What the world needs is love, love, love. The Christianity in England that will die is a Christianity that imposes its rights before love. The Christianity that will die in England is the Christianity that says 'our way or the highway'. Christianity in England will die when our Gospel message is contingent on one soul wearing a piece of jewelry as a definitive sign of belief and fights tooth and nail when that company or organisation (who pays them a salary , but let's no quibble over details) chooses to disagree (as they do for all such baubles). Whining in public about how hard-done by we are is a sure fire way of saying that God and all God's enormities are somehow threatened by the whiles of Secularists and Dawkins type folk. It is the same, exactly the same, as a heavy-weight champion boxer complaining that a toddler just hurt him with a slap on the shins. 

Jesus Christ is Risen, Alleluia - and His church is as alive, vital and unapologetic as ever it was (save for a few individuals who know not how to pick their fights - who are making us look marginally stupid)

Disposable Laity

Someone very close to me wrote a blog post recently about the fact that she is, after six years, laying down her role as Churchwarden. If you want an interesting perspective on life in church, please read Doorkeeper's post here. It is a simple post, expressed well and offers a side to parish life that many experience. 

The nice thing about being "the Vicar" is that (Common Tenure allowing) we can hover around in a parish like a bad smell for decades. Because we feel called to? No; because we enjoy it and it works for us or our families to stay. Let there be no illusion there. We stay for us most of the time.

In a well run parish, this is broadly where it ends, unless the small matter of a wage or salary is brought to bear - but again, very often those people stay not because of calling, but because of economic reasons. It is our wonderful laity who step forward to do jobs around church who are called to it. They are there through that calling, with any luck take some pleasure from it, but in all cases do it in the context of their freely given spare time. This is the case for the lovely person who might polish a brass every month, who serves at the Altar on a rota-approved basis, or the kindly person who simply prays for the parish and her life. It is the same for Churchwardens too. 

Churchwardens, in most parishes I think, have a tenure. That is to say that they can hold office for a given period of time, having then to relinquish it and give to the next person. This is a good thing on many levels as we all know of Wardens who were in post six or seven years after they were clinically dead. Accounts of Warden who gripped steadfast to their staffs for decades are not uncommon, and rarely accounts filled with glee and happiness. 

So, dear reader, we have members of our wonderful laity who give their time freely, as a result of their sense of God's calling who - in the end - have to stop that work and give it away. Many have no choice at all in that, including Wardens. 

Reading Doorkeeper's account is helpful because it reminds people like me that such transitions are not painless. When you give your all to something, it is difficult to stop if those years have been good (as they were in Doorkeeper's case). What do they do afterwards? How do they re-integrate back into parish life in a revised way after a period of holding much authority? How do they fill the many hours that they previously gave, not to the parish in question, but to God? Vicar's (myself included) preside over these moments, and I will do so this session with a Warden of my own who ran her own Interregnum. Doorkeeper's post is a timely reminder that it isn't just puffed-up priests who hurt when the job stops or has to change. We forget that to our peril and to the pain and cost to our vital lay volunteers. 

Well, That Was Jolly!

Part of my ministry is teaching. Today I taught Christians how to express themselves creatively. It didn't involve liturgy (hard to comprehend, I know), and it didn't involve prayer as we know it. This act of blessed creativity brought with it a panoply, nay a plethora of Epiphany moments  in the context of the our discussion about the relative merits of arachnids. 

It is fair to say that there was outer and inner cursing. There was modesty and self-reproach. There was some appetite to mechanise. There was considerable example setting, and yes - even the questions about the merit of the creativity in focus were heard.

But we made 200 Palm Crosses and God will see that they are good. 

I was taught how to make a Palm Cross when I was a sprog and I have even had the opportunity to teach the kids to do it (which they managed, remarkably quickly I might add). But a dozen Christians sat together in the beautiful spring sunlight that floods through our Victorian stained-glass, chatted and fashioned these little worship-devices. 

Yes, you can pay through the nose and buy them in pre-made. They look the business, all uniform, all neat and tidy. Ours have character and ours now have a far greater meaning to us. They are the work of our hands, some not as nimble as others. 

To me, moments like these are a precious gift. They are an opportunity to put aside a couple of hours with a purpose and with others (so as not to feel guilty for stopping). They are moments when people who might otherwise have sat alone at home have now sat with friends in their church when only a year ago it was firmly bolted shut. They all learned something new, and the glee that they expressed when they 'got it' was a joy to behold. I now have a dozen flock-members who can (and should) teach others this noble art next year. Saturday is posy-making for Mothering Sunday (you will notice that I got it right that time). Coming together to be and do - perfect. 

Pre-made palm crosses? Why would you!

And the pictures are amusing too, but that is a matter for us - not you!

Marching into the Unknown

By close of play this evening, my Little Church will have undergone not one, not even two, but three significant changes. Each is distinct from the other, each bold, each apt to cause a few problems - but each being the right changes to make.

In my opinion.

The first is the (re) introduction of Evensong

Second is the church being open during daylight hours

Third is the first meeting of a newly formed Communications Group

I am the sort of Christian who has eyes to the future, with a heart rooted in the historic and tested, and with a desire to share what and who we are with the wider world. This seems to be covered well by the changes of this day. 

During my relatively short ministry (which is to say, short enough not to have found the need to write a column for Rupert Murdoch) I have lamented the ever increasing numbers of closed churches, and church communities that exist (with their life-saving good news) behind a shroud of mystifying unknowing. Who really knows what goes on in a church except those who have managed to find the doors open? The answer is simple - very few. 

We live in an age that is fearful of crime, hungry for sustenance and spiritual nourishment, and amply blessed with cheap devices that communicate. Why, then, do we ignore two at the peril of one? My church doors are open at this very moment, and the chances are even that it is empty of regulars. Will the lecturn get snaffled? Maybe. That said, if they wish to steal our brass budgie, it is the PCC who are in greatest peril - from a personal injury claim from the Muppet who tried to lift the thing. Seriously - I weigh the probabilities of theft in one hand with the possibility of a stranger finding God by coming into doors that are open - and there is no real contest. I can buy a new lecturn. 

But why all the secrecy? The funky-monkey churches are all genned up with their Comms - and they grow by virtue of it. Us of a more vested and sacramental bent conceal our life and triumphs under a doily of decency or the antimacassar of polite self-deference. 

Not no longer. 

This church in West London is open for business. We are going to shout about it. We have something that everyone needs and it is our absolute duty to ensure that as many as possible are given the chance to access it. We are going to take a mature, informed, market approach to what we are and what we do and we will not apologise for it. 

And yes, a good Evensong is a fine way to close off a spring Sunday. 

Appendix:

Our Insurers, Ecclesiastical, when asked how we may open our church and remain insured said:

Ecclesiastical does not object to the Church building being left open during daylight hours provided:-

 1.         All valuables are locked away.

2.         The altar is furnished with wooden replica's in place of your silver communion items.

3.         The Church must be locked during the hours of darkness.

4.         Ideally, a person responsible to the Church would check in at intervals during the day to ensure there are no problems. 

If the Church being left open appears to increase the likelihood of claims being made, we may need to review the situation.

 It is not recommended that the building be left open during the night, any Church wishing to be unlocked during the night will be subject to a loaded premium.

Get a Grip

And another thing ...

I am sort of sorry, but I feel another bout of invective coming on. Please don't think that I am a terminally bad mood because I'm not; I am just jaw-slack watching the world.

Some of you will be aware that a nice little West-Country town took the momentous step, not to stop flogging the under-5s or putting pensioners up their chimneys, but to stop saying a prayer before its council meetings. The responses to this immense event ranged from "Ding Dong the Witch is Dead" to "Eli Eli Lama Sabachthani" - or in other words, the sublime to the ridicuous. Some of the Dawkinsites (I still deny the existence of Richard Dawkins, and believe his followers to be deluded) hailed this as the death of religion. Some of the Christians of our fine nation hailed it as, well, the death of religion. 

I say get a grip.

This Careyesque persecution complex that we are currently enjoying in Britain today is as daft as it is needless. Even Baroness Warsi says we should get a grip and it is not often that I find my socialist heart being projected by the words of a Tory Peer (and a Muslim one too, telling Christians to get a grip). 

I think that we like to be defeated, and I don't know why. We believe in the God of the Universe and All Creation, the author of the stars and moons, of love and puppies. We believe in a Good News so overwhelming that it conquers even death - but not, it seems, the secularist hearts of Devonshire folk. We, the British people of the Book, in our thousands of churches who can pop and and out when we choose, if only we chose to do so, have no right to claim a persecution on the one hand, or that we are under siege from secularists on the other. If we were in danger of being shot in the face by an AK47-wielding sniper when we attend a service on Sunday, then we may have a case. 

Sadly, in many ways, we are giving the secularists and that man Dawkins all the 'ammunition' he needs. We fight among ourselves, we go to church when we don't have a golf game to play, we cannot communicate even within the sphere of our synods and governing structures, we would sooner stop going to a church of the wrong flavour than go and be glad of the chance, our national church website's guide to prayer will tell you only how to use your fingers and we self-flagilate with a whip of our own creation. 

We need to stand up and be counted. We need not whine and self-pity, but be strong in our faith and in the sure belief that we have in the Good News of Christ. We must bust our buns embodying the example of Jesus Christ who never once whined and complained, and do the job we have been mandated to do, and make disciples. To do that, we must make our beautiful wonderful altogether human church seem the slightest bit like a body that people would regard as Good News incarnate, not as a snivelling brood of sulkers as we are in danger of appearing. 

As I said a few days ago: the mission of God does not need a place on the Agenda of a council meeting. It is the reason why the council meeting can happen in the first place.

Social Media and the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity

It's a funny thing. I am sitting in the coffee shop of a national chain of gymnasia, wheezing, and rather than exercising, am preparing a sermon for a service in church tonight. I am also 'riding' Twitter (as one does) following the hashtag #wpcu2012 . For those who don't speak the Masoretic language of Twitter, it is a label that connects all thoughts on the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. 

And it's my day off! 

As I ponder this idea of Christian Unity, especially on a day when we commemorate the life of an Egyptian monk (St. Antony) and the life of an Oxford academic who was part of the Tractarian Movement (Charles Gore), it is clear that for as many Christian who have lived and breathed on this earth, there are as many variables of this living faith of ours. Yes, we conglomerate into denominations, and those denominations have some similarities, but in the end, the great joy of holding a faith in Christ is that we can all be different. 

The theme for the Week of Prayer this year is that of 'change'. Let me get this straight: we are all different, seek unity, while at the same time aspiring to change. Sounds like a game of ecclesiastical Twister to me, but like all challenges to our faith, is one that commits not just our efforts but those of the God we adore in common. I wonder if the change that is called for is simply that we embrace our differences in the comfort of the overwheleming matters that we hold in common. 

This brings me to social media, and a drum I bang often. Among my Twitter friends, and those whose blogs I read or who are kind enough to read mine, are Christians of every flavour and pursuasion. I am a Christian of a specific brand, and those who know me know my preferences in worship, in ecclesial attire, in hymnody, in theological nuance. In the gander scheme, none of those things are important, and simply choices that appeal to me. Social media doesn't really care for any of that, yet accommodates all of it. Twitter and Facebook care not a jot that I am a contemporary breed of Anglo Catholic, and in many ways that is good. I share thoughts and debate with many Christians (and those who have no faith) and most of the time, the labels are simply of no importance. 

I don't think a week of prayer for Christian Unity is, or should be, about us all being the same. Life would be turgid and dull if we were. A week of prayer for unity is a week to celebrate what we hold in union and that we carry in hands each pair distinct from the next. I don't want to be a Roman Catholic and I am sure that my Catholic friends have no desire to be Anglican. We are who we are and we are as the Lord has called us. Imagine an orchestra if every one of the gifted musicians played the same instrument. Yes, there would be music, but the repertoire would be rather limited.

When Two Worlds Collide

May the Lord bless social media, for this day it reunited two old friends.

I have just enjoyed a good chat with a former colleague, catching up on news and changes that affected both of us. Our families have found their life, and it is also fair to say that we are both fuller in the face than we were.

We worked together in my former life in flooring. I met him in west London when he was fairly  fresh into Britain (he is from Ghana) and looking for work, and I was the one who gave him a job. We worked together for several years in different places, me as his manager and he as my very gifted principal sales-person. I think we both helped one another pay the bills, if we are honest, and it was one of the sadnesses of a change of circumstances which meant that we went our separate ways a few years ago. 

He has gone onto bigger and better things, and so have I. He was always going to excel in marketting and his currently role reflects his seniority in that world. I am a vicar.     Poles apart ...

... or so you may think. 

We have been chatting half of the afternoon about how much our jobs are the same. He is a marketting executive in the world of dentistry, and yet we have both had almost identical conversations in our work-places of late. I have written about this stuff before, the quality of the "shop front" experience for those who visit our churches, as well as the 'business needs' of the church as organisation. Much of our work, in the distinct worlds that we move, is really very similar. Alarmingly similar!

So, this is a hasty post about the joys of social media. It is also one that observes a refreshing reminder that church and parish life is really rather similar to other aspects of 'normal' life. All in all a good afternoon!

Incumbency and Vases of Flowers

A wise man once told me to be careful when moving vases of flowers. It is not that vases of flowers shouldn't be moved from time to time, or even removed and refreshed. Of course they should, when the time is right and the need apparent. 

For "vase of flowers" read "what we have always done", and for "always" read "more than three times". I speak, of course, about change, and more particularly those changes that take place within a church. The unique factor of church vases of church flowers, is that beneath each one is a trip switch which causes an explosion upon the removal of it, like a landmine. Boom. 

I am fast discovering that curates are broadly immune to the effects of the explosion (largely through the protective layer provided by the training incumbent). The Vicar is not similarly protected, and so it is that the vicar's giblets and gizzards are at perpetual risk from all movements of the proverbial Meissen Monster. 

It endlessly fascinates me, and troubles me, the effect that change has (in large or very small measure) on some people. Some Christians, it seems, are pathologically afraid of change in many ways, and I have never fully come to terms with why. Even change born of a careful process of thought, prayer and consultation (and to make something safe and available for all) seems to cause an adverse reaction, often aggressively delivered. And so it is that I am learning to toughen my already world-hardened hide to cope with the fall-out from the Floral Relocation. 

Part of the job of Vicar, as leader in many ways, is to articulate the present. Once the present is seen and acknowledged (not as easy as that may sound), it is needful to make changes from time to time. As seasons change in all walks of life, things change - and in church life at least, the Vicar (or equivalent) is often the one who 'represents' the change tothe wider community, whoever may have been involved in the process leading to it. This is not always easy, as I am fast learning. 

Change is part of living, I believe. If I didn't change, Mrs Acular would be wiping my bottom and blowing my nose for me. If churches didn't change, they would still be convening solely in mud huts in the Middle East. I wonder sometimes if change is not viewed through the same lens as death - as wholly inevitable, but an unsavoury truth best hidden from thought.

I have many vases in the church where I work. The church is beautified by them all and they are receptacles for some stunning blooms. Yet I cannot say, hand on heart, that they will all stay where they are! Someone pass me my Flack Jacket ...

Baptism - Freely Given or Undervalued?

There is a debate raging, in my head at least, concerning the administration of Baptism. It is a debate that has murmured under the surface of a few conversations that I have been part of or privy too in recent years, and never with any sort of resolution.

Argument 1 - We want all people to be disciples of Christ, so of course we must baptize all those who seek it

Argument 2 - If someone asks for their child to be baptized, it would be bad form, rude even, to deny them that which they seek

Argument 3 - Seeds sown now may yield fruit later

... and so on! These are the arguments given by those who think that baptism should be freely granted to all who ask, and fair enough. They are valid views.

I have always wrestled with a sense that baptism seems too readily granted. Someone pops by the Vicarage or church, asks for baptism, gets it and then more often than not they vanish from whence they came. That might be as a result of poor follow-up pastoral care; it might be because that is the very nature of the beast; it might be that people seek baptism (and this debate is more to do with children presented as candidates by their parents and guardians) because it is "what you do". The simple fact is that baptism is less to do with initiation into the worshipping life of the church than other factors.

My instinct is to ask enquirers "and why so you want your child to be baptized?". Part of me fears the answer, but if I administer baptism without a concern for that, what implicit message am I delivering? That baptism doesn't really matter so go ahead, let's book a date. Indeed, the liturgists in their zeal to offer choice have created the Great Euphemism - the Thanksgiving for the Birth of a Child order of service which, although never intended to be, has become 'Baptism Lite' so that we don't frighten people away with all the religious hocus-pocus.

Part of me thinks that if our faith is of life changing and affirming value to us as believers, we should administer its initiation scrupulously. Part of me still thinks that if faith is like that we should cast it far and wide (and hope some of it sticks?). Where does giving something freely become the administration of something that has no value? One is generous, one is insulting (to God, to believers and to those who really do value baptism). If I am honest, part of me thinks that baptism should be first step of a renewed pattern of behaviour that revolves around the community of which the baptized have just become member. Part of me thinks that if I took that view I might struggle for baptisms!

Thoughts, please ... 

Se also Baptism Boosters

What About The Rest of the Week

It is a known fact that God only works on Sundays. This is the reason why most churches only open on Sundays and why most attendees to those places of worship only do their religion on a Sunday.

It is also a known fact that a life of faith only really needs an hour a week as a booster, and that for the other days of the week, worshipping folk need not concern themselves with the God of Sundays. To best work around this, churches are closed from noon on Sundays until 7.48am on the following Sunday - time enough for the God of Sundays to be looked at, prodded and poked, sung about, and prayed to. This is also the reason why the sallow-eyed Dog-Collar folk only come out on one day of the week, in line with a carefully prepared rota to lead the prodding and the poking of the God of Sundays. 

That today is Monday need not worry you. The God of Sundays is on his day off, playing golf and attending to a little decorating. In any case, we are unlikely to visit the church, so that its doors are closed is of little consequence. Why would you open a church on a Monday anyway? What has the week-day life of those who worship the God of Sundays have to do with anything?

Parody or not, this is how it is in many places I think. Some of you will find this harsh or uncharitable, but I think in the end you will accept that I am right! In my own edifice, through no fault of anyone, and with a care to protect the goods and chattels of the parish and spare the organisation needless heating bills, it has fallen into a habit of closure or a habit of using 'secular' rooms instead of the church itself. I estimate that the church here is open no more than three hours a week - which is quite a lot more than most. It is an unfortunate symbol of the mindset of church life, that it is open for you on Sundays, but closed when you are not being religious. 

We have two issues, that can both help the other. If we are Christians all week, why don't we pop into the church and visit it on other days of the week, be it the one we normally attend or the one near where we work. There might not be a service on, but in most cases God can be found in the perfect beauty of the silence in a still church. The other issue is in the opening of our church buildings. Yes, it costs money to heat and light, and you may even need people to be there to look after the place when scallywags come knocking - but I firmly believe that a church has a duty to be open for as many hours of the days as it can possibly manage. Those who value our sacred spaces on weekdays may even help towards the cost of keeping them open, if we but asked them. Also, an open church is a church that takes people seriously on days other than Sundays - acknowledging their need for sustenance in the course of a working week. 

Push hard enough, and you may even find an ordained person in there sometimes, when they are not on the Rota!

So Your Church Wants Social Media ...

My firm belief is that every church needs to engage with social media and start to use it. To not engage with social media is about the same as not making use of email, telephones or the combustion-engine motor-car simply because they seem to be modern irrelevances. The simple fact is that more and more people in the West are engaging in dialogue moderated and delivered through social media. 

I also acknowledge that it isn't as simple as just wanting to engage with and harness the benefits of social media, because our congregations and parish councils are often populated by those unaccustomed to the electronic, regard their advent as suspect at best and who may in turn become isolated by its introduction. This said, if we took the same view over history, people wouldn't have Bibles in their personal possession and the art of reading would remain the province of the landed gentry. Progress is necessary and indeed vital, so long as it is tailored to bring with it those who are vulnerable to its effects (usually by immediate isolation).

With this in mind, and following on from conversations already had on the subject, I though I would jot down my thoughts as to the process that parishes could use to bring this development to life. I am mindful that parishes already have varying degrees of involvement with social media, though they may not use that label!

What Is It? Social Media is the overarching title for direct communication by way of the internet. Any parish with a website of any capacity or capability is already engaged with social media, albeit passively. The current understanding of social media is more specifically concerned with actions of communication, often in real-time and often solely over the internet - be those actions in the form of 'chat', instant message, blogging or micro-blogging. A parish community unfamiliar with this mode of communicating would need to appreciate the subtleties and drawbacks (as well as the great opportunities) of this form of faceless communication. 

Who? This may seem an odd consideration for a parish, but this is a decision not to be taken lightly. The one doing the communicating is placed in a position of considerable power, often speaking on behalf of the entire community to a very wide and unpredictable audience. Someone with some experience of social media (and its nuances and its vernacular), supported and moderated by at least one other person would be advisable. This ensures that the 'output' is broad and balanced, and not rooted in the aspirations and 'hobby-horses' of the operator. Needless to day, the person concerned should always hold in their mind that they always speak for their community, and anything that emerges in the social media is hard to remove. 

Planning - If a parish is to engage in social media, it would make all sorts of sense to have the agreement of the parish council (or its equivalent). To do something positive and new can be a risk-laden proposition and it is easy for the operator to be left high-and-dry if any problems arise later. The organisation as a whole should take ownership of the initiative, even if at the hands of one or two specific individuals (operators). They should also be familiar with the output as a matter of course. 

Planning 2 - Boundary setting is very important. What is off-limits to the wider world? What is the core message? How does the community preserve the operator? What happens if things go wrong? Do you discuss services or acts of worship? Do you comment on sermons or talks? What about images? Recordings and audio capture? How is orthodoxy maintained?These are all clear decisions that need to be made and probably a myriad more. 

Accountability - who is accountable - The operator? The council or leadership team? Someone needs to be, after all. If accountability is given, can it be taken back later? Who hold passwords and where? With accountability comes responsibility and the same questions need to be settled.

Document - to my mind, a document stating who does what and under what terms, on what media forum and to what purpose - all need to be documented. I would go so far as to state that they need to be filed with official papers like Minutes and votes taken. They are all layers of protection either for the operator or the organisation. 

Review - the leadership team/council should review the output in conjunction with the appointed operator, and on a regular basis. When someone speaks on their behalf in front of possibly millions of people (in the case of Twitter and blogs), the community needs to be aware of the essence of that commentary and respond accordingly. 

If there are substantial doubts - then don't do it until those doubts are assuaged or gone. Engines such as Facebook has caused concerns for many people, regarding secrecy and the dissemination of information to third parties. Because things cannot be unsaid or easily un-published, it is better to be positive about such a venture before launching forth on it, rather than stepping tentatively into a perceived minefield. One is a pleasure, the other a constant source of stress. 

These are my own thoughts. There is nothing to stop anyone doing anything, but 'in whose name' makes a considerable difference. In simple terms, the greater number of people who are involved in the evolution of such a development the better - given that in the early days, its outworking is in the hands of a small minority. 

Lastly, let social media not become the first word and the last. There are always people in our communities for whom this activity is exclusive and into which they could ever venture. Make social media but one means of communicating with the wider world, and certainly never at the expense of inter-personal or tangible means which grant access to all. 

Authority

Today we were thinking about 'authority' (which is to say that I was thinking about 'authority' and hoping that others were listening!) as a result of the Gospel passage given to us today  - Matt 21: 23ff.

The episode of South Park which gave us the clip I have placed here always made me laugh. It also reminded me of much authority exercised in churchy circles. I am not here to talk about what authority is and its sources, but I wonder sometimes if we don't use it in odd ways or even wrong ways. The "it has been like this years so we will do it like that for ever" is one such way that the authority of time and tradition is used. Needless to say, it is the axiom of all anti-women dogma in church life. 

Then you get the Cartman style of authority (see above) - exerted by coercion. It is the "I have authority because I say so and you can't stop me". We see this in church life in the hands of the passive-aggressives who rather than being overtly strong, are self-weakened so that we can keep our distance. This is a very significant source of much authority wielded in churches. 

The thing about authority is that it is in larger part granted us by others. Be can't really take authority upon ourselves, but rather receive affirmation from others that authorises us to act or behave in given ways. Even us vicars are in danger when we start the "we are the boss so you will respect my authoritah" and it long since not been the case that Father is Always Right. So often mistaken for power, authority is granted not taken [apologies for the typo that inverted that statement]

Just saying ...

Why I Have Stopped Going to Church

It is a funny thing, being ordained. Well, it isn't funny at all; it's a serious business, but it is a funny old thing. The process of being called by God to ordained ministry (the only ministry that I can speak of - other ministries are available) goes a little like this:

 - Born

 - Go to church with the family

 - Grow a little 

 - Grow a lot 

 - Be born again (if that is your thing)

 - Feel the gentle constancy of God's call

 - Say "yes"

 - Jump through many hundreds of discernment hoops

 - Train

 - Put on the collar after a jolly old time with the Bishop and the Holy Spirit

 - Stop going to church

Simple. 

But you see up there in the list - the whole going to church thing, well that halts at about the same moment that the professional church provision begins. Providing and facilitating 'church' is not about 'going'. I accept that this probably sound ridiculous, but it is a fact. The Eucharist, for me and others with whom I have discussed this, is about managing little arrangements to enable the prayer and praise of God's People to go as it should. As a priest, I either preside or I worship - the two rarely overlap.

I know that some of you still are not convinced. Some of you may be mildly irritated by my words given that we have the perfect excuse to be doing the whole church thing all the time. Part of the calling to priesthood is to approach God with the 'people on our hearts' (Michael Ramsay's idea from "The Christian Priest Today") and to approach the people with God on our hearts. This connects with Bill Countryman's idea that priests exist on the "border of the Holy" - all of which is short hand that tells us that our church, our nourishment and spiritual edification, is to be found away from the community to which we are called to minister. Sometimes, this is a hard thing for new priests to grasp - as there are times, believe me, when we don't feel like we have had a moment with God for weeks or months - a moment with God for ourselves, that is. We are called to have that space elsewhere. If anyone feels called to priesthood to be closer to God, then I would suggest that their wires are crossed. 

The Loaf of the Lord

After a little sermon blockage at the tail end of last week, I can report a successful day with three distinct and separate sermons preached in three distinct and separate places of worship - or churches as we like to call them. The third sermon was 'written' during a visit to a DIY store after lunch today - it is indeed a wonder how the Good Lord works!

The sermon to which I refer revolved around a gospel reading that will surely be familiar to you, and that is the passage from John's Gospel where Jesus says that He is the "bread of life". It struck me how much the humble loaf teaches us about being 'church'.

The thing about bread is that it is, by very definition a composite of different ingredients. With a lack of either the flour, yeast, water or flour you would not end up with bread. They are ingredients different in volume but equal in importance. This illustrates the need to regard quality of discipleship as distinct from quantity. Distinctiveness of ingredient is important too. In church life, for it to be as God would wish, it needs different people who bring distinctive gifts.

The thing about bread is that it rarely flourishes in its creation without too very important things that move away from the recipe or the ingredients. The first is good old hard work. Kneading bread is physical exertion. Once that labour is done, we then have to set the dough aside and do that thing which is central to our religious life: faith. We have to walk away and have faith that the dough will rise as we hope. This tells us two things about being church - that is requires a very particular effort, that expecting church to come easily is a flawed vision; also that it is acceptable and even desirable to step away and let things happen. In the same way that we cannot knead bread risen, neither can we simply labour the coming of the Kingdom.

The last thing about bread is that is can be quite properly enjoyed in many manifestations. Bread is not always a White bloomer loaf. These days, it possible to find many types of bread that have a place in all manner of different meals. There is a time for a baguette, and also for a ciabatta. If the ingredients are about the inner qualities that we bring to church life, then the manifestations of bread is about the many ways it is possible to be church next to one another. For me, I am probably a traditional white split-tin, and not a funky and new olive-focaccia!

Simple bread, made simply with simple ingredients is the Prince of foods as it is the very food that Jesus chooses to represent his sacrifice. He didn't choose a medium-rare ribeye steak or the finest Beluga Caviar. No. Bread. What more do we need than this profoundly simple model of how to be the Body of Christ - than to fashion ourselves on the Body of Christ.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

The Importance of the Summer Fete Season

Today I have three of them, others of you may have one or two. Yes, it possible that some of my comrades with seventy-six churches in their benefice will need to rent a teleportation device, but this is the season for the Church Summer Fete.

These are not simply social gatherings. They are the yield of a year of planning, of committee room sparring and of flounces flounced. Among the cream-teas and silly-hats, danger lurks for the hapless cleric:

 - The dog show needs judging, and if you get that wrong you can kiss goodbye to your biggest 'giver' (and the fete organiser, churchwarden, organist, head server, PCC secretary ... all these roles being held by the same nonagenarian). This pales into insignificance when placed next to the worst of the worst - the Cutest Baby Contest. Be afraid, Vicar, be afraid.

 - Produce Stall: You don't know what is in that jam-jar, when it was made or by whom, but if you are to get through the day un-murdered, you will need to shell out the £8 a jar and buy three. No jam, no chance. Cakes are normally safe, but a hasty sprint from the car upon arrival will be only way of assuring a purchase. Failure to arrive early at the Cake Stall will mean that you will lose to the large person who always buys ten and freezes them (for a period of consumption that remains a mystery).

 - Tombola: Did you ever stop to wonder who Tom Bowler was? He was the first vicar to overlook to buy twenty-quid's worth of tickets for the raffle, and after his execution, they formed a new game and named it after him. It's written in the Olde Englyshe nowadays. Well, your are laughing if it is a Bottle Tombola, but beware the queue - though that said, the odds of winning that Single Malt are 3,600,000,000,000,000,012 to 1. 

 - Raffle: Twenty is plenty, but any less and you become the social pariah (see above). You don't want to win that jigsaw with the missing piece, and lavender smellies are not your thing, but avoid the Raffle at your mortal peril. 

 - Bric-a-Brac (a sort of rhyming slang for 'A Load of Cra...' you get the idea): A pile of unwanted goods, a single stacked-heel boot, a computer disk with software for the eagerly awaited ZX Spectrum, a kitchen device hitherto unseen by human eyes, a collection of four chipped Hornsea pottery mugs, a spittle-washed teddy bear (wrenched from the arms of its devoted owner only days before), and some pants on a scale that suit Moby Dick. You need to buy, vicar - just one thing, but buy you must. They don't have change for that Tenner though. 

 - Book Stall: No theology here, Farv - but lots and lots of Maeve Binchey and more smut-fest Mills and Boons than you care to swing the Vicarage Cat at. If you are really really lucky, there will be a Haynes Manual for the 1976 Austin Allegro or a book on the forgotten episodes of Star Trek (though the pages with the good bits will be long long gone). There will be some Tracts though. The Tract Fairies always seem to appear in the dark of the night and infiltrate book stalls, and so titles like: "Why God Doesn't Like It When you Eat Cake", or "The Forty-Six Prayers of Jesus During His Sleep" - eight copies apiece, but no-one knows how they got there. 

 - The PA System - oh my word, the focus of all that can (and will) go wrong! Button-up and it's on. Button down and it's off. Easy. Or so you would think. The average vicar will get it wrong to begin with and so will greet his crowds in near silence (which will annoy the person running the Cutest Granny Contest because the contestants are still fighting over the loo). Conversely, the microphone will be live when the Reverend feels it appropriate to comment on the daft hats, the poorly attired, and the basically funny-looking attendees - all at eight-thousand decibels. Worse still if the Vicar visits the loo with handset in pocket convinced that privacy will be assured. "Beans last night Vicar?"

 - The Barbeque: Now it is absolute fact that only nutters drive the Burger Stand at Summer Fetes. You may think that the articles places in your grasp is charcoal with nasty sauce, but you would wrong. That was incinerated with malice-afore-thought, and just for you. What is brought to the stall holder is a nice array of burger patties, Lincolnshire sausages, Cumberland sausages, marinaded chicken drum-sticks - what you get is a symphony of the incinerated similar. "I think that was chicken, Vicar. Onions with that? The sauces are over on that ... oh, in the dog's mouth"

I love a good Summer Fete. They are church life at its best in my opinion. It is the 'inside' coming outside, and for the outsider, it is a chance to regard the sallow skinned, sunken eyed Sunday Shufflers and see that they are human and can, despite all that is heard, work as a team for two hours a year. The church will raise some much needed cash and in the end, they are a sure sign of the Kingdom. 

Social Media and The Church

To those of you reading this who, by by the very fact of your presence here, the icons contained in this image will have some meaning. 

Then you have the remaining 98% of Christians, church-goers and other people of faith who will have no inkling about what this is all about. They have heard some of the names on the news, but will have cast them aside in the way that they would anything that held no apparent relevance, or that which had the feeling of fad or voodoo about it. I don't blame them - but we have a situation where an increasing gulf is developing between social-media aware Christians, and those who are not. 

This is a potential considerable problem. The world of social media is expanding at a fast pace. Conferences convened for its discussion and consideration are proliferating, including those for social media where it applies to the Church and her life. Already, it is clear to see that small number of communities who engaged positively and meaningfully with social media and those who have cast it aside with quite understandable suspicion. One only needs to examine a few parish websites and this is clearly evident. Yet, in many ways, this is the beginning. These are the pioneer days, the days of the more considerable gamble, the days when those who dare may well 'win'. 

The industrialised world is increasingly living its life through the electronic device. Of that there is no doubt and it is something that I have said here for some time. The young in particular articulate much of their personality through social media, each holding accounts for such websites that allow them to communicate with just about anyone else with a similar account. Millions of us have mobile phones, many of them being smart phones. Not on the ground in real space does life happen for many, but in the interactions conveyed through the virtual world. In other words, any organisation that seeks relevance in this age must embrace that ages's self-expression

...including the church. 

I think that there are compelling reasons, of a cultural nature, why this should be the case. However, such lofty notions are meaningless without a little application (to pardon the pun). I encourage all members of all parish councils to discuss social media and start to embrace the expression of this age - or be left behind in the bow wave of irrelevance. Consider these things:

Marketting: Every organisation worth its salt markets itself in a marketplace where the customer expects to make an informed choice. No longer do we live in places where you buy bread in the one shop because it is the only shop. Church life is without doubt the same, especially with so many Christians being mobile or able to call upon mobility. Christians increasingly go to the church of their choice, not the one that is there by accident of geography. They will travel to make that choice, often some considerable distances. Churches need a presence that extends beyond the flaking-painted board at the gate to the church up the track three miles from the nearest house. The pew-sheet phenomenon is one that is part of a decline - because you have to go in in the first place to take a pew sheet, and if one of those people fails to return for whatever reason, the spiral is downward. People search the internet to find what they want. They use search engines to do that work, and to be out of that listing is to fail to attract those who wish to be attracted. 

Infection: "We have a Gospel to proclaim", but the people are increasingly living lives elsewhere on Sundays and other days of observation. The Gospel is the glorious product that Christians are proud to offer, the product of God's love that is available to all people. I don't think it gets better than that. The question remains about how we infect the world with our Good News - a world that receives its stimulus through gadgetry. The answer is simple - be part of the electronic stream of stimuli. The world is slowly overcoming its innate suspicion of things relating to the internet and cyber-highways. No longer is a perilous thing and one that may land you the happy recipient of dubious imagery and other unsolicited muck. Now, people can browse the internet in some safety. Our children and young people do - and there is where the virus and opportunity of the Gospel will have most meaning to that age group. 

Story-Telling: Blogging and the like are the current means by which this most often undertaken. We are all compelled by stories. When we hear stories of happy days and dark days, we are able to empathise and enter into the narrative - and is the device that Jesus used in his own ministry. Stories are less often in books, and books more often electronic than physical paper-entities. I judge a parish by the stories it tells of itself, its life and its faith journey. The great gift of the technological age is the ease with which imagery can be captured and used. I can be at a joyful event one moment, and able to tell the global community about it within minutes, with imagery, or even sound and film. I believe that people subscribe to a journey of faith, not just a static crowd of Christians. So often, websites give calendars and rotas, but no reportage of what has happened and yet fewer images. An absence of story in the 'output' of a parish states simply that there is no story to tell. Indeed, where would the church of the twenty-first century be if the early church hadn't jotted down its news and events?

Breaking Free of Buildings: The wider world perceive 'church' to be all that pertains to the building. Church life only happens within those medieval stones in the minds of so many. They have always been wrong, but Christians have never cottoned on to that fact even for themselves. Mr and Mrs Typical-Christian will probably spend one or two hours a week in the building, but will be living breathing Christians for the rest of the time. In the past, the faithful parish magazine touched that part of people's life - a little. Blogging and micro-blogging and all other social-media tell the stories of ordinary Christians in ordinary time outside of the church building. Its priests and ministers are starting to acknowledge this too, for we all know that much more of our ministry happens outside of the physical church building than within it. The immediacy and portability of social-media means that Christians can tell of the considerable bits of faith-life hitherto completely un-witnessed. 

Dialogue: It would be fair to say that in the present age, the church is becoming alarmingly polarised. The evangelicals are fearful and suspicious of the Romanising and incense swinging Anglo-Catholics who are, in turn, fearful and suspicious of the text-free converta-a-holics of the evangelical churches. Understanding has all but died, and so polarisation is happening with greater speed and in fearful ways. Indeed, where understanding fails, bigotry and mis-understanding flourishes. Social media, for all its flaws and idiosyncrasies, overcomes much of the ecclesial divide. It also does much to cross gender-divides which also mar the image of 'God is Love plc'. On the whole, and as one with a fair experience of this, I could not tell you, and would not care to tell you, what the ecclesial expression was of the vast majority of those good people with whom I interact.  We talk, we enjoy dialogue, and rarely do we ever inhabit those places that dog dialogue in the temporal church. I would go so far as to say that social media does more for Christian unity than anything else in this day and age. 

I could go on, but will save some for another day, and spare you a longer post now. This is a pivotal moment in many ways and such is the potency and valency of social-media that I predict that in a decade, we will determine the church communities that lived or died by how they embraced the technology and behaviours of this moment. 

The Birth Pangs of A Baby Church

With thanks to garretthoffman of You Tube

Happy Birthday Church. Many Happy Returns

Concerning the Other Type of Messy Church

This post will appeal to my boss, because on this issue we are probably of a like mind. This post is also rooted in the issue about which I may even venture to write a book.

This is not a post about Lucy Moore and her work. This concerns our church buildings in their rather unique place in our world. They are, in many ways, a cross between our homes and retail outlets. You will all be amply qualified to assess your home for its accessibility and welcome to your guests. I am amply qualified to comment on accessibility and welcome offered by retail outlets.

Neil Pugmire wrote a book called '100 Ways to Get Your Church Noticed', a tome that does well what it says on the tin. In my former life, the marketting men had much to say on how to get people to the front doors of our emporia, and in all our present lives, we will have views about how he like our homes to look to the eye of a passer-by or a visitor. However, getting people to the door is half the battle. In commercial terms, not a thread of carpet was ever sold to a person who never entered the building.

Churches, of all breeds age and churchmanship, seem to disregard the fact that they are places that provide something. It may be a place, an act of worship, a venue for an experience with God, a meeting place, a place to learn about churches, a concert, passing curiosity - all of these things represent, to forgive the terminology, the 'product' of a church. Frankly, the more of that 'product' that is taken up, the higher the footfall, and in the end, the greater the conversion rate (commercial and spiritual meanings intended). 

Let me illustrate my point from the perspective of a shop. How many carpets would be sold from a unit that closed its doors all day? How many would be sold from a shop that didn't put on its lights or kept the place warm? How many rugs would be transacted in a store that was a mess and behind whose doors was a pile of detritus that customers would be caused to climb over before they could get to what they came in for? How long would people remain in a store if the ambiance were a cross between the funereal and grumpy possessive? This is before I ask the same questions about your homes and how your visitors would experience them!

There are so many questions like this. The answer, of course, is not many. In Britain, many of us are blessed with some stunning churches that are half empty and rarely visited. We have a mandate to make disciples of people, yet one of the finest vehicles to that is the place from which we minister. Sadly I have lost count of churches that are in every way possible 'closed for business'. Ranging from damp cold, to mouldy smell, to piles of discarded pew sheets on the messy desk that I have seen inside the front door. Our visitors will judge our love for Our Lord by how we hove His house. Our visitors will recognise, quick as a flash, what is important to us. Does the church look like a dishevelled recording studio? Does it look like a faded museum of ancient artifacts? If it were your home, would you dream of having dinner guests sit at a table already cluttered with the dirty pots from breakfast or the innards of a knackered toaster? 

I urge every one of you reading this, who has an interest in their church building, to step outside the door and re-enter it with a camera. Take a picture of the first impression you get. Print it A3 in colour and be honest about what you see. Of course, this assumes that the doors aren't locked in the first place, which is more of the case these days. Evangelism is about 'going out', of course. But why, when we spend hard-earned shekels chasing them do we consistently neglect those who have felt called to visit us? There is a business statistic that I heard once: that only 1 in 14 customers enter a shop without ever having been affected by it in some way beforehand (recommendation, prior visit, advertising etc). Those are the ones who have more to do with the remaining 13 than any other. I wonder if a correlation can't be made in those who visit our churches for the first time.