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In The Minster (part IV)

I was in marketing for five years but wanted to do something away from computer screens.

After the decision to find her vocation Vic started her training which began with a residential course which gave her an academic foundation for her work. After two years she was placed in an apprentice scheme which enabled her to put into practice the theory of her previous study.

Those first few months were both exciting and scary. The work demanded so much of me; physically and emotionally… It highlighted my weaknesses and that’s always frustrating but slowly I grew stronger and more confident of my capabilities.

Vic now stands at the top of the East Window of York Minster painstakingly restoring old, decayed stones and sometimes replacing the ones who have ‘passed on’ with new, fresh ones. She washes stones that have been mistreated by past conservers and lovingly restoring stones left to the elements.

The truth is the similarities in the training of stone masons and of clergy is by no means the end of the parallels. I was struck as I walked round the workshops how much the two vocations speak to each other. The attitude and commitment towards their work, the holistic impact the work has on the person and the humility developed by working in a tradition established over centuries and the call to play a part in building the legacy further, all map one onto the other.

I want to acknowledge first the clear connections between working with the Tadcaster stone in restoring a building like the Minster and working with the ‘living stones’ that make up the Church of God. I want to briefly highlight the loving care that a stone mason takes over one stone to make it sing with beauty and the call for us as ministers to spend time in helping a child of God sing of God’s beauty in them. All these connections are wonderful and amazing but I want to hone in on the masons themselves.

Dave showed me round the Stoneyard with a quiet and generous spirit. He took me to meet John, a man who has worked for 30 years with the Minster. He knows this building, its history, its quirks. He can predict the anomalies in the design before anyone else. He can tell, from looking at a stone whether it is an original or a stone from one of the many restorations over its long history (and which restoration it’s from!) When I asked him,

So, you must be something of an expert of the building?

I don’t feel like one. Every day I learn something more about the building. In some sense I’m always an apprentice.

What a beautiful sentiment. Even those who have worked for so long in building the Church should understand themselves always as an apprentice.

Dave then took me down to look at the untouched stone which will soon be prepared to go into the colossal building over the road. He told me about yellow veins. The yellow veins are the places where the rock hasn’t bonded together in the ground. One strike of a chisel and the whole piece will break into two. He took me into his workshop and showed me one stone that he has been carving for six weeks.

At anytime I could come across a yellow vein. I won’t know until it’s too late.

Six weeks work could come to nothing as the rock gives up and breaks.

It really humbles you. Every chip has the excitement and fear. Could this be the time it breaks… You’re no longer in control.

There’s no amount of technical training that will develop Dave into a mason who will never find a yellow vein in his work. He can learn all things and still be at the mercy of the complex and hidden forces that have got that piece of rock to that place at that time. There’s an element of trust on something that is beyond him.

He showed me the plans of that stone. A necessarily detailed design which he needed to follow to the letter or the building would be unstable because of that one stone. I asked him about the sense of connection with the masons of the past who carved the original design in the stone.

I’m just one mason in a long line of masons who have been involved in this building. It’s like they speak to us through the stones. It’s hard to explain… I can look at a stone in the Cathedral and get a sense of what that individual mason was feeling or what kind of day he may have been having when he carved his stone. We’re connected over the centuries… in a way.

I guess that makes your work seem dauntingly important.

I asked.

Yes to know that in centuries time some mason of the future looks at this stone I’m carving now and can tell so much about how I approached the stone. Makes you think about your attitude to the work, kind of calming yourself down before picking up your tools.

As a future member of a priesthood given the authority and responsibility of Holy Orders, I too will be joining a long line of priests who have gone before me. The difference for me as a priest is my legacy won’t be as tangible as Dave’s. That connection with tradition, however, does help me appreciate the need to prepare every time I minister to God’s people, for my attitude will affect how that ‘stone’ is, in response to my care.

I was then shown into the carver’s workshop. Here is where the intricate detailing is done. The two men stopped their work and asked me lots of questions about my training. After each stage was described they nodded and exclaimed,

That’s just like us.

They are clearly excited about the connections between their work on the outside and the work of the clergy inside the building. I asked them whether the Stoneyard is like a family.

Yes with all the family issues. We have rows.

Dave chipped in,

One of the masons, Les, is ill at the moment and we all take it in turns to visit him and help each other out to cover his work.

The problems usually occur when someone has an opinion about how you should handle a particular stone. But if you just concentrate on the stone you’ve been given responsibility for then we all support each other. Does that make sense?

How we as a Church could learn from that sentiment. As a parish priest I will be given responsibility and care for a small section of the Kingdom. We enter into disputes when everyone steps above their station and takes on the role of oversight of the whole building too soon. There’s a call to trust in those in authority knowing that it’s, by far the most difficult jobs. I witnessed that in Synod early this week; so many members, given half a chance, want to tell fellow workers how they should and shouldn’t treat their stones. The ‘masons’ questioning those who have been given the difficult task of keeping track of the meta-narrative and in a way taking their eyes off their stone. I remember John, up in the studio, pawing over the plans of the whole building knowing each stone but in relation to the much bigger building. Being responsible for the task of making sure the individual aspects fit together cohesively and will stand the test of time; entrusting the detailed work to the masons. I remember his humility and gentleness as to how he holds his responsibility. It reminded me of ++Rowan Williams.

Any final reflections that will help me get a sense of your work?

I asked.

We find it important to know that it’s no one person’s building… it’s everyone’s building.

Dave then took me to Vic, who I spoke of before. She took me up the scaffolding to the top of the largest window in Europe (I think!) She showed me the work they had done on one of the spires; beautifully carved and crafted work. Then she showed me the window itself and, again, the intricate detail that the masons of the original Cathedral had created. Then it struck me; the masons work on painstakingly carving the intricate detail would never be seen by those hundred feet down. The only people who may see that six or seven weeks of work would be themselves and, potentially, future restorers (and, of course, God Himself). The extravagance of the craft!

As a man called to participate in the building up of His Church I must remember the extravagant, secret and private work of the diaconal priest. I guess I want to end on the reading of yesterday from John’s gospel.

The story of Jesus washing the disciple’s feet has become the story of the diaconal order. What does this story say to my role as a deacon? The work of cleaning the dirt from people’s feet is a work done away from the crowds in a private space. The cleaning of the dirt is a necessary work. It’s a work that requires humility of the one washing but also vulnerability of the one being washed.

It is necessary and it is a privilege to see the fragile, stone behind the layers of corruption and decay and to be called to restore them and make them sing!

In The Minster (part III)

So what’s the point of cathedrals?

The more time I spend looking at Cathedrals, their communication and mission activity, the more I am convinced that they play the most significant part of our evangelism. It is interesting to me that these archaic, monuments to the past hold the potential key to our future.

I have worked closely with Durham Cathedral and now York Minster and have asked the question “How do we create in the heritage tourists a desire for faith tourism?” Millions of people visit our Cathedrals each year as historical monuments; they enter into a building used for worship, without us awkwardly befriending them and trying to time our invitation to come along. They come, almost, at their own volition and ask questions of the space, experience whatever is there. This is an enormous opportunity if only we could translate and interpret the space effectively.

As part of my placement in the Minster I have explored the ‘York Minster Revealed’ project being undertaken by Lottery Heritage Funding and the Dean and Chapter of the Minster. The idea is to invest millions of pounds into this heritage site to encourage more visitors to the Minster and, therefore, to the city itself. This may come across, to some, as selling out but I believe is a great mission opportunity and, I have to say, reading the Interpretation Plan, is clearly aimed at guiding people to experience the living, growing, life affirming faith and the God for whom the whole space is offered to in praise and worship each day.

Back in Durham, I am privileged to be a part of a team of ordinands who inhabit the Cathedral space there once a month. Our aim is to frame the space so that people can explore and encounter God there. We try and minimise the heritage signage, taking out donation boxes, stripping back to the walls and to the history of prayer soaked into the building. The atmosphere of the place is different for a number of reasons from the day time trade of tour buses and historical interest groups to the silent, meditative pilgrims encountering God in powerful ways in the evening. None of these reasons seem to sum up exactly what that difference is but the attitude in which people explore the space helps them to worship and pray for themselves.

Here in York, they have really simplified, as much as possible, and kept signage out of the space. Part of the Interpretation Plan is to use digital media such as Augmented Reality and QR Codes to inform people without layering it, physically, onto the building. This will help to keep the building as place of worship for the regular congregation. This will allow people to experience the space separated from the noise of the factual past and free them to experience the prayer and spiritual past and present.

In a conversation with the team who look after the heritage side of the Minster’s work it is clear that their aim is to use the building to tell the story not just of the past but the continuing life of the Minster as a community of worshippers.

I don’t care why they come but I do care that they leave knowing why they came.

An interesting idea which, I’m sure is shared by many missional leaders in parishes across the country. How do we use our heritage and history not to keep people thinking we’re past it but that we are present and we have an exciting future?

The undeniable truth is that Cathedrals get visitors! Parish churches struggle. Why? Well, Cathedrals dominate the skyline for one but they also have a clear story. I visit numerous heritage sites and love them. I judge them, not on their size but on the stories they tell. Warkworth Castle in Northumbria has no roof, very little walls and no guides but it tells a great story and has tried to tell it in interesting ways. Our parish Churches have stories or links to stories. We need to become more competent and confident to tell the story of the spaces we use for worship.

Take the parish church in Croxdale, County Durham. I did a placement there and visited the church of St Bartholomew’s. Still an active church but there’s an atmosphere about the place that is dark and cold. This has no relation to the community that worships there. The space is silenced by a whole number of things. During my time there I learnt that there was a community artist working in the hall next door. She rented that space from the church to use as a workshop and teaching space. I requested a meeting with her and suggested using the church as a gallery for local artists (who are currently struggling to find places to exhibit their work). This needs fleshing out but the potential to resurrect such a dark space into one of life and art and inspiration would lead, surely, to a reinvigorated life of faith.

Cathedrals don’t need to advertise more to get people into their worship buildings but they can work harder at translating the space from a heritage site to a place of encounter with the living God. The data informs us that people stay for services in York Minster and these events greatly change the whole experience of their visit. The realisation, surely, that this is not a static, dying building but one that grows and lives! Add into the visit Twitterfalls to help people communicate for the Cathedral unplanned, new, exciting discoveries as they happen to other visitors and suddenly the tourists become the guides and, who knows, the evangelists telling anyone connected to the Twitter conversation that they have encountered God in the Quire, Nave, Crypt, where-ever!

The thing I’ll take away from my time here in York is a sense of my passion and love of Cathedral mission. This is not an old building which needs to be sold but the greatest resource for communicating an historical faith alive and well in the heart of all our cities. Jonathan Draper and his team of ‘interpreters’ are passionate people naturally connected to millions of people each year all of whom are potential witnesses to the powerful love of God!

Let’s dig down deep and root ourselves in our past so that we see growth in the present and be a towering strength of hope in the future!

Deadly Theatre Deadly Worship?

I’m aware I haven’t written about theatre for a long time so I want to unpick some thoughts I’m currently wrestling with as I continue the long process of writing the book ‘God of the Gods’.

My placement this year has been focused on being in a ‘creative’ community and seeing what one might look like. (You can follow the placement through the ‘Theatre Church’ stream by searching this site.) My reflections have concentrated on the capitalist mentality that flows through both the process of theatre and our understanding of Christian community. I have written extensively on this theory but thought I might share aspects of it as it relates to thoughts on theatre from the man himself, Peter Brook.

The act of creating a piece of theatre should be a journey of discovery for all involved. The current economic climate, however, forces the focus away from the search for discovery to a mechanical, predictable process aimed at achieving the highest income for the lowest cost.

A producer, who holds the finances, in order to increase that potential investment, funds a startup productions in the hope of building both a portfolio, artistic clout and financial capital to further that aim. In order to gain the most income they need to produce a sellable product, something popular and so they invite ‘creative’ directors and/or writers to invent a concept or write a script that will meet those criteria. These ‘creatives’ are therefore conditioned to develop concepts or write scripts to pitch to a producer who decides whether it will make a return on their investment. Theatre is, therefore, often driven by the marketability of the product rather than the necessity of the expression itself. The creative act is done by a solo agent and is completed before the pitch is made in order that a clear ‘vision’ is communicated to the financier. The process to construct the product must be planned carefully in order that it is the most successful (success being both how well it embodies the original concept and the amount of people who consume it.) Auditions are held to get the right people for the right job/role. Actors are tested and interviewed to see who has the right skills to undertake the role in the shortest period of time. Rehearsals are characteristically one sided. Directors ensure that the actors are doing what needs to be done to create the product as the director/writer see it. The actors ask for clarification and performing the role as prescribed and not participating in a journey of discovery; they’re cogs in a machine.

Peter Brook notes,

…a theatre where a play for economic reasons rehearses for no more than three weeks is crippled at the outset. Time is not the be-all and end-all; it is not impossible to get an astonishing result in three weeks…But this is rare… No experimenting can take place, and no real artistic risks are possible. (Peter Brook, The Empty Space)

‘Deadly Theatre’, as Brook calls it, is one that lacks life. This, he suggests, is not as easily discerned as you might expect. For something dead can be dressed up to look alive like the lifeless puppet manipulated to imitate life. Can our Churches experiment? Can they, what theatre practitioners call, ‘play’? Can they take real ‘artistic’ risk? I’d argue ‘no’. If every Sunday, or what ever day the community worships, is a ‘performance’ to lure in seekers then there is no space for risk. If something ‘fails’ then it will impact potential clients. If we can begin to call the seeker-friendly service a performance then our ‘rehearsal time’ is one week! Brook continues,

The artistic consequences are severe. Broadway is not a jungle, it is a machine into which a great many parts snugly interlock. Yet each of these parts is brutalized; it has been deformed to fit and function smoothly… In such conditions there is rarely the quiet and security in which anyone may dare expose himself. I mean the true un spectacular intimacy that long work and true confidence in other people brings about – in Broadway, a crude gesture of self-exposure is easy to come by, but this has nothing to do with the subtle, sensitive interrelation between people confidently working together. (Peter Brook, The Empty Space)

This kind of theatre is like a disease spreading through our culture. The big West-End musicals are all veneer with no substance of necessary expressions of human beings. Audiences are fooled into thinking that the more jolly, colorful and expensive the design the more ‘theatrical’ it is. No one questions this shallow performance style which has seeped into classic works such as Shakespeare making words that have so much potential life become boring. We have all become accustomed to it and so no longer crave the pure, life giving theatrical art.

In churches, regular congregations have become accustomed to the lifeless worship that is dressed up to imitate life. These imitations take on may forms depending on a particular tradition. The pentecostal inspired charismatic services need only to increase the volume and emphasize the rhythm to bring on their ‘spiritual’ highs. Watchman Nee says,

We have heard people say that…the moment they hear the sound of the organ and the voice of singing their spirits are immediately released to God’s presence. Indeed, such a thing does happen. But are they really being brought to the presence of God? Can people’s spirits be released and drawn closer to God by a little attraction such as this? Is this God’s way? (Watchman Nee, The Latent Power of the Soul)

What are we aiming for in community? In Christian community I’d suggest that we are aiming to share the fruit of the Spirit in the character of Christ to be reconciled to God and one another. In our worship, therefore, we need to be praying and living in the power of the Spirit. That Spirit will then go out from us to the others and unite us all together and bring us resurrection life; life that will not end. In theatre community I’d suggest the aim is similar. We are looking for a life that inspires each person to express themselves in a communal expression. Our self expressions can be affirmed as holding ‘truth’ by inspiring something within the whole community. Thus, that which is life to the individual participant is shared and encourages the other to experience life themselves. How do we discern whether a piece of theatre or an act of worship has ‘life-giving life’? Watchman Nee distinguishes between the life of the soul and the life-giving life of the Spirit,

“The first man Adam became a living soul; the last Adam became a life-giving spirit.” (1 Cor 15:45)… The soul is alive. It has its life, therefore it enables man to do all sorts of things…The spirit, however, is able to give life to others and cause them to live… “It is the spirit,” says the Lord, ‘that giveth life; the flesh profiteth nothing” (John 6:63) (Watchman Nee, The Latent Power of the Soul)

Here it is important to state, one can perform a piece of theatre with life but it stops at self expression if it does not hold life-giving life or that which brings life to the observer/ the rest of the community. We are not searching for self expression but self expression within communal expression.

Christian community should pay attention to Brook’s warnings to theatre. We must discern carefully whether our self expressions don’t stop at the self but give life to others. We must be careful that our worship is not resuscitating our dead bodies for a moment but rather giving resurrected life. We can achieve this, I’m beginning to believe, by ‘playing’ constantly, feeling comfortable with others to experiment and to reject crude self expressions and aim for the self expression within communal expression that marks life-giving life to all. Feeling comfortable with others can only be achieved if we create space for vulnerability and commitment to community as a verb and not as a noun.

Finding God at the Other Extreme

As I enter my final week of my second year at college and I begin to say goodbye to friends with whom I have shared my journey of training, I’m forced to reflect on the nature of our community these past two years. These reflections have been informed by the opening section of Pete Ward’s ‘Participation and Mediation’ where he describes different typological scales of theology (not worth explaining just forget that bit!). Here he describes David Tracy’s continuum stretches from ‘orthodox theology’ to ‘radical theology’

For orthodox theology, says Tracy, ‘the claims of modernity are not seen to have any inner theological relevance’. In fact a commitment to orthodox belief and expression is seen as a ‘bulwark’ against contemporary philosophy and criticism. At the opposite extreme lies radical theology. Radical theologians are aware of liberal and neo-orthodox traditions; however, they have taken the crucial step, says Tracy, of applying the dialectic of neo-orthodoxy to faith itself. The result is a re-expression of the Christian tradition, ‘which negates the central belief of that tradition in God.’

Whether you understand or agree with Ward, what struck me about this description, and his other outlines to scales of theology, is how separate the two ends of the continuum are to each other. Having said this, however, on further reflection I’m more struck how closely these two ends are. Here I hit upon my major thought of our community at Cranmer Hall for the two years Sarah and I have been here. Society seems to put things on a scale and thus separate the two extremes. This leads to two wrong assumptions; one, that the two positions are complete negations of each other (black is the complete opposite to white) and two, the ideal position is in the middle, “both/and”, “everyone’s sort of right”.

The truth is ‘extremism’ is a dirty word in a world where hate crimes, terrorism and political uprising is a regular occurrence. Extreme positions define the boundaries in any collection of people; no more so than in Cranmer Hall. My peer group for the past two years have been defining themselves, individually and collectively, on this scale. On one end is ‘Anglo-Catholicism’ the other is ‘Charismatic-Evangelical’. Already there is an issue! Is ‘Charismatic Evangelical’ the opposite? Is not ‘Liberal’ the opposite? The scale, however, seems to have been drawn and you fit somewhere on the scale.

My year, however, have experienced something new. Instead of the scale being linear we have discovered that the closer one moves to the extremes the more we move to the opposite extreme. This creates more of a circular ‘continuum’. We have discovered that the difference between the two extremes is smaller than the difference between the extremes and the ‘compromising central’. Maybe a diagram will help.

My peers and I have discovered that the more radical/orthodox we become the more we seem to find common ground. It highlights and intensifies the disagreements but the heated debates only help to shape and mould us to find the most radical/orthodox position beyond all labels.

Our democratic society asks us to find the synthesis between a thesis and antithesis but the synthesis loses all the definition of the thesis and antithesis. political parties are wanting to be in the middle and has diluted all opinions or definition. The more middle they are the more indistinct they become. How can we live side by side whilst holding onto the extremes? Not by canceling each other out but experiencing what can only be described in practice as the radical meeting of the two.

In our first year we worshipped with strong flavors from the different traditions. This enabled one extreme to experience the other and to discover God in that act. This same approach was clear in the many debates we had in our common room. The more passionately one spoke of their faith the more respect from the ‘opposite’ view grew. This is the most beautiful part of this community; that it is when we seem to travel furthest away from our ‘tradition’ that we find God and I will celebrate this discovery next week as we experience the death of the community.

Pete Rollins has spoken about the approach to conflict in this way.

When faced with such a confrontation (that society all too often attempts to protect us from) our primal response is often one of either,
Consumption – Attempting to dissolve their difference by integrating them into our social body (making them like us)
Vomiting – Rejecting them from our social body as a foreign agent that must be expelled (protecting the integrity of our body)
Of course, most educated and enlightened communities attempt to avoid these very natural tendences, opting instead for a more reflective position that gets beyond these extremes of consuming the other or vomiting them out. This more thoughtful position can be described as eating with the other. Here the community seeks to sit down with the other and seek out places of convergence.
However this third position still operates from the same underling belief as the others,
Consumption – We are right and you are wrong. We shall integrate you
Vomiting – We are right and you are wrong. We shall reject you
Eating with – We are both right in some substantial way. Let us reflect upon where we converge and move forward together
In each of these cases we seek to exorcise or downplay the monstrosity of the other (their bizarre practices and beliefs). But what if one of the truly transformative encounters with the other is not where we try to annihilate their monstrosity (by abolishing it, rejecting it or domesticating it), but by coming into contact with our own monstrosity through it? In this alternative type of encounter we glimpse how we look through their eyes and begin to ask whether our beliefs and practices are just as strange.

So let us not create a bland faith or tradition but let us embrace what my fellow ordinands and I have discovered that orthodox is radical and radical is orthodox and we encounter each other and God not in retreating to the safe middle but by delving deeper into our extremism and discovering something (w)hol(le)y other!

(Sorry for the rushed thoughts… weekend activities saying goodbye are pulling me away from writing!)

An Idea! (part II)

We’ll start by beginning to gather the five questions we finished with and making some possible links between them.

I think the first question, ‘who are ‘artists’?’, is a key question.

At the heart of this is who is creative? What makes some people creative and others not? The research that showed that the same act of recalling our episodic memory is similar to the act of imagining future episodes and creating a construct in our ‘mind’s eye’ show some correlation between the act of remembrance and creativity. In remembering an incident or episode we are involved in a creative act. Our brains are being creative. As human beings, therefore, in any act of remembering, recalling past events, we are being creative. I would suggest we are all, naturally, creative. There is, of course, some extreme cases of damage to this part of our brain where people can’t remember but, on the whole, we are creative.

In Genesis we read that God made us in His image. What this means is a massive concept but I want to draw on the creativity of God. I believe God created everything, He constructed it in His mind (if He had one) and constructed it in reality… wow the complexity is frightening! As humans we have been given the faculty, from God, to do likewise. His first command to us is to go forth and multiply…create. Now, creation of a child does not take any brain activity. When most people approach sex they don’t imagine the future child! God, however, seems to give humanity a special task of managing and subduing creation, this is a creative act. God asks us to be creative with His world to adapt it and grow it. The term ‘bara’ used in the creation narrative is the verb ‘to create’ and it is only used with God as the subject. Only God can ‘create’. As humans we are able to re-create. The research seems to suggest that we have an innate creativity in all of us.

For some this is easier than for others but I don’t think we can divide up humanity into those who are creative and those who aren’t. All of us are creative and all of us are able to be part of a creative act.
This may answer the second question, ‘how is the act of remembrance connected with creativity?’, and goes on to connect with this understanding of exile as ‘fertile ground’.

When we go into exile we are forced to participate in an act of collective recollection. This is an act of creativity. A group of people are forced to be creative and, therefore, participate in an act of humanity ‘made in the image of God’ and, therefore, are imitating God.

This may then answer the question, ‘Why does God seem to turn up in the time of exile?’ God turns up in exile when we start to, by recalling and being creative, etc., act in a way that is God-like.

This all has massive implications in the original question, ‘how does the church connect with ‘displacement deniers’?’.

I have for some time felt called to ‘artists’ and in particular theatre artists. This category has been extended as my understanding seems to be that all people are creative and therefore artists. This is un-helpful for me. My definition needs to be addressed. Artists must be restricted to describe a person who engages in art, a certain type of creative act. Everyone is able to engage with art but some choose not to and others do. Artists (those who choose to engage with art) tend to be more spiritually aware than those who do not choose to engage with art. Is art, therefore, key to spiritual awareness?

I’d like to suggest that it is and if we take this on board, with the body of evidence given previously, then to engage those people who deny their spiritual side we need to engage them in artistic endeavour for a
period of time.

Why is it some people don’t like art? There must be a hundred and one reasons why some people don’t but I’d like to be naive and suggest there is a fear or confusion as to how one engages in art. I need to look into this area!

What if the way we, as the church, connect with ‘displacement deniers’ is to put them into exile? Put them into a place where they are forced to recall the past, ache for home, emotionally engage with episodic recollection? Exile is the place where stories are told. Story-telling the basic creative act; it’s the act where we consciously recall episodes. When we do this we are also able then to imagine future constructions and be ‘creative’ and produce art; painting, theatre, music, etc. It is in this act of creativity that in some mysterious way God appears and/or we become aware of our spiritual life.

In my placement I’m excited by what we are discovering together about how we are creative, the correlation between nostalgia, exile and community… Thank you God for beginning this journey and thank you for bringing me such creative people to explore with.

An Idea! (part I)

I’d like to start by apologising for my absence from this blog site. This is due to a whole load of issues culminating in a very busy period at college. Thankfully that season has gone and I head into a winding down for the Christmas break.
During my short break from writing there have been a lot of reflections buzzing around my head that, in some way, connect together and I’ve been struggling (without the blog to help) to connect them up. Yesterday, however, I had a moment where several hunches collided together and I started to travel on journey of creativity… and creativity sits at the heart of the idea.

Before I begin the story I want to add a preface: This is still incomplete and, as usual, would be open to engagement from you, the reader.

Where do I begin?

I have two starting points for the same proposal; one is from the initial spark of the idea, the other is from the point where all the little hunches have come together into this idea…or I could go from the middle and allow everything to network onto that… that’s three… I’ll choose the third!

Ian Mobsby, the ordained leader of the Moot community (see ‘Sacramental Theatre (part IV)‘ post), visited our college on Tuesday to speak on New Monasticism and how those researching this form of missional church is connecting with ‘unchurched’ people in this hybrid context of pre-modern, modern and post-secular culture. What do all those terms mean? Unchurched defines those who have never had any contact with church. Pre modern describes those aspects of culture that pre-date the printing press, e.g. the sense of self and purpose often expressed via a faith in a deity or deities, a lack of emphasis on the individual preferring the understanding of communal. Modern are those aspects of culture that have come in after the invention of the printing press, e.g. scientific objectivity, the need or desire for evidence to prove arguments, a disregard of that which cannot be quantified or set. Mike King defines post-secular as

• a renewed interest in the spiritual life
• a relaxation off the secular suspicion towards spiritual questions
• a recognition that secular rights and freedoms of expression are a prerequisite to the renewal of spiritual enquiry
• a spiritual and intellectual pluralism, East and West
• a cherishing of the best in all spiritual traditions, East and West, while recognising the repression sometimes inflicted on individuals or societies in the name of ‘religion’

Mobsby sub categorised the ‘unchurched’ category into groups of differing spiritual awareness all of which are, in some way, being connected with by the church through different relationships. One, however, has been overlooked; ‘displacement deniers’.

This category is for those in our society who deny their need for spirituality or God and displaces that hunger with activity. This describes, to greater and lesser extents, the majority of people I come in contact with. Are artists in this category? I’d say “generally no”. Artists, as I have said before, are spiritual people, aware of that aspect of their life but I have begun to notice that ‘artists’ although aware of their spirituality can also be sub categorised into two parts; ‘engagers’ and ‘deniers’. That seems to be saying that artists are like everyone else and they are! What a surprise!!! But to say all artists are spiritual does not fully describe the group, in fact by dividing this group in this way I begin to see that the grouping ‘artist’ is unclear and complex…

Michael Sadgrove, Dean of Durham Cathedral, came to speak at college a couple of weeks ago on the topic of ‘Laments in the Psalms’ but focussed on the themes of remembrance, memory and exile. I’ll start with the theme of exile. I’ve been interested in this idea for some time now, since reading ‘Exiles’ by Michael Frost and hearing Rob Bell preach on the first chapters of Ezekiel (which have had a big impact on my call to ministry!) Frost argues that the church finds itself in exile; a group in an alien culture like Israel in Babylon. Some could argue that, in this multi-cultural, facetted, predominantly secular society of the UK, most people could describe themselves as exiles. Sadgrove discussed his observations of Rememberance Day; an act of collective remembering, a time when we deliberately reflect on the past. This day, Sadgrove observed, has become increasingly popular in recent years and he could not explain why. I’d like to suggest that it is this has something to do with the sense of exile most people, both inside and outside the church, connect with…

What is exile? I’d define exile as a place or mindset of unsettledness, a place where you do not feel ‘at home’. It is also a place where we are forced to look and reflect on where we have come from, home. To think about what ‘home’ means to us. Exile is, Sadgrove said, ‘fertile ground’. There is something in this place of exile that causes creative growth and powerful transformation. Biblically, also, exile has always been a place where God has moved. We think of the wilderness in Egypt, Babylon, post-exilic Jerusalem for Israel. It is in these places (particularly the latter) where ‘God turns up’. Let me take Ezekiel as an example. His home, both spiritual and physical, is destroyed and he is dragged out from there. He is forced, in Babylon, to reflect on his home. It is while he is reflecting, remembering, that God comes in a powerful vision and Ezekiel falls face down and worships…

In the group that I’m a part of for placement, we’ve been discussing the topic of ‘home’. We’ve been telling stories of ‘home’ and common themes have been appearing; family, comfort and shared history. This final idea has struck me as important.

Sadgrove spoke on the idea of ‘nostalgia’ and defined it as ‘an aching for home’ which is an interesting definition compared with the accepted understanding as ‘a yearning for the past, often idealised.’ Is there something in that comparison between ‘home’ and ‘the idealised past’?

As the group has discussed ‘home’ and shared history there will inevitably be a glossing of the facts, an idealising, an interpretation of the past. Rowan Williams, in his book ‘Why Study the Past?’, suggests that the past can never be seen objectively, historians cannot remain aloof from the telling of history. One member of the group said they’d been present at a lecture on memory and heard the suggestion that the act of remembering occurs when the brain recalls a sensation, previously experienced and then attempts to paint the individual sensations that made up that experience, i.e. the visual, the audible, the tangible, etc. Memory is a complex thing and research is still being done on how the brain ‘remembers’ but what most psychologists do agree on is that the act of remembering a specific episode is deeply interrelated to the act of future episodic construction in the brain (see ‘Using Imagination to Understand the Neural Basis of Episodic Memory’ article)…

We currently have five major questions; how does the church begin to connect with ‘displacement deniers’? who are ‘artists’? how is the act of remembrance connected with creativity? Why does God seem to turn up in the time of exile?

I’ll pause there so you can gather your thoughts.

I’d usually publish the next part tomorrow but I’ve published the two parts together so, if you are up for it, you can continue to read today and not lose your flow of thoughts and ideas.

Theatre Church (part XI)

I’m sat in Sanctuary 21 after another introductory meeting for my placement. Two people came tonight but instead of being disappointed I am overjoyed. Why?
I have come to realise that this small ‘drip-drip’ approach to the start of this group is more in keeping with the ‘organic’ nature I felt was needed. The big flashy, explosion onto the scene was never going to work. As I approached tonight I was struck by how Jesus started his ministry; by gathering one or two and focussing on getting to know them and building them up and the rest followed suit. I was particularly drawn to John’s account where the first two went and invited others to come.

I’ve been thinking about the way in which people begin to belong. I’ve returned to my months of deep listening that I’ve done since a year ago. It’s important for me to note the changing understanding of what this group may look like. My vision is not perfect and to look back over the common themes and points of interest is important to see clearly what is developing. Throughout my journal I have written a need to model community, natural, raw and organic. One of my notes has the quote from ‘Organic Community’,

We need to bear in mind that the most accurate word to describe the process of forcing intimate connection is rape.

This may sound harsh and ‘over the top’ but to force people to be community is never pastoral and is not godly. This connects with one of the things I noticed about the DST. I want to clarify, before I note the things that I have become important in the last week, what I really think and feel about DST as an organisation with the people involved. I love the DST. I love the work they’re producing. It is full of talented, passionate and intelligent people who are very successful, both here in Durham and across the country. I want to lift them up as a great example of student theatre and the potential is really exciting. What follows are three things that I felt was lacking in the DST and ‘gaps in the market’ where I feel the new group developing here at Sanctuary 21 will fill.

The first thing I noticed and have re-read in my journal, marking my deep listening, is a sense of how many auditions there are each week.
Most of the people I have come to know, and admire, will go from audition to audition, some successful and some not. This cannot be healthy for a person’s sense of self. I have seen this in professional theatre as well. An individual will just travel round and put themselves on the line so often that sooner or later they will forget who ‘themself’ is. As a defense mechanism an actor will quickly begin to perform and say what they think a director wants to hear or see. I experienced many people come to auditions for my theatre company and they will be performing the whole time. I wanted to know who people were, what they were about but all I got was a walking CV with what they have done or what they can do (juggling, acrobatics, accents,etc.). Auditions force artists to say and do things that may not fully describe what they are about and soon they will lose sight of what they have to truly offer.

I must remember that auditions must never play a part in this group. I want to truly discover what each individual has to offer and to honour their unique creative voice. I want to encourage everyone to know they are a part of the group not because of their aptitude to perform but because they are uniquely made. Any conversation where I am welcoming someone into the group must be clearly a welcome to the community rather than a test/interview/audition. I have begun to tell the people who are now becoming this group to voice this in any conversation; “We don’t audition, you are welcome if you want to join.”

The second thing I have noticed in my journal is my interest in the speed at which shows are produced. The usual rehearsal period is three weeks, at times its two. This has its benefits; it means people get lots of experience of a wide range of plays and meeting lots of people. I will not deny that it does get people mixing and it means people get a packed CV for future careers. Again I see an unhealthy aspect to this approach. If you were an actor and you were digging into your emotional memory to perform a character and then the show just finished and you moved straight onto the next thing without giving that emotional journey closure and you repeated this again and again then what does this create in you. There’s a pastoral issue here of managing your emotions. Relationships are never given enough time to grow deep and so, although your meeting lots of people, you’re not investing fully into them as you know you’ll be finishing the show in two or three weeks. Due to funding cuts the professional theatre has adapted this model of work where an individual actor may move from one company to another without developing long term relationships.

This has been a big drive to the creation of this group. At this time we have no need for funding and so we can be extravagant and explore what happens when a real ‘company’ is created and those relationships are as much a part of the creative process as the individual. The group, therefore, must be committed long-term with each other. Any ‘product’ does not mark the end of the relationship but a shared experience from which we can grow together.

The final thing that I have been reminded of this week is what I’ve witnessed in terms leadership. In individual companies there’s a sense of hierarchical power play. There is a producer and a director who drive the rehearsals and the actors who follow that vision. Due to the shortness of the rehearsal period an actor just turns up and does what the director wants and the choice of story/script is down to the director. Obviously an actor will choose if they want to be a part of that play but, from my observations, most people don’t actually care about the play they just want to do anything. This puts a lot of pressure on directors and also builds for them a pedestal on which some love and others hate. Directors and producers become the ‘gods’ of this community. People talk to them because they have something to offer (a part) and this makes it a lonely existence. I’m not saying that it’s this extreme but I’m painting a picture.

This image mirrors what is happening in churches and something that I don’t want to model… but that’s another issue!

This group must have, in its DNA, a flat leadership or rotational leadership. The group is the responsibility of each member not just me who suggested its inception. The existence is based around each giving themselves and steering it. This allows the potential for sustainability and flexibility in future.

I want to finish by stating one final thing. I’m still fairly open to see where God will fit into this. I know He will be present but I don’t want to cut out His role, I’d prefer He just took His place. Does this require all of them to be Christian? No. Would God exist even if all His creation denied Him? That’s a big question to leave you with!

Theatre Church (part X)

I sat in Sanctuary 21 tonight waiting for the time set for the big introduction to this ‘thing’ that has been playing through my mind since Christmas to arrive. As the time ticked by and it got closer to the start, the big cloud of doubt floated into the space and hovered over me. “What if no one comes?” “What am I doing?” Throughout this all I remained optimistic “People said they’d come.” “This is clearly a need in this theatre community.” “People are excited about it.” The event was scheduled to begin at 6.45pm. Fifteen minutes after this time one person walked through the door.

Ministry training does not prepare you for this. One person! There are two responses to this fact; one, be positive or two, be disappointed. If you’re positive there’s plenty of Scripture that talks about persecution, the hard walk of faithful discipleship but then again, there’s of equal balance Scripture telling of God’s blessing to those who are faithful. I have spoken in the past about how to face disappointment and justifying reality til the metaphorical cows come home. This is not a time, while it is still raw and fresh, to justify what God is doing (or not doing). But I think it’s important to talk about failure.

In our church we hear success stories all the time, it’s not good for publicity or authority if we fail. Despite our deep understanding that for every good idea there are an average of 8 not so good ones. We push, as leaders and visionaries, our connection with God’s vision and God’s plans. In order to have the authority to lead a community one needs to have the discernment of God’s will and dream dreams and see visions. The truth is, we are not immune from spiritual confusion. But if I am to model authenticity then I need to tell the stories of failures or misguided vision as well as success and ‘wins’.

To be a pioneer is to take risks; to see an opportunity and to resolutely pursue it. I have taken a risk and it hasn’t worked so what is the response?

Return to the original, basic call.

What was it that God put on my heart that drove me to pursue this opportunity? My passion to connect with those involved in the theatre community, to offer them an opportunity to explore who they are and discover their creative voice; to give them a place where they can truly express who they are based on a knowledge of themselves.

Has that call changed? Is that not what is being asked of me now? No. That call is still there. What, therefore, is the next step? To continue and persevere with this idea or to change tact? Two interesting reflections; one, if I think back to my time in Byker (see ‘Death and Resurrection’ post) I am reminded of the power of continued presence in the face of so much temporary incarnations (quangos, consultants,etc) The second reflection is one that I want to explore in more detail and extends my reflections on the Cathedral Event that I’m apart of (see ‘Theatre Church (part VIII b)’ post).

In both the church and the theatre world the majority of thinkers and commentators would agree that to be product focussed stunts the exploration and deep reflection on culture and social movements. Both parties would bemoan the emphasis on being activity driven rather than the existence as good in and of itself. In the theatre, as the funding is cut, companies don’t have the luxury to explore, to research and develop ideas. There is no space, time or finances to allow the artists to explore, discover new things. Peter Brook suggests this replication, churning out products that are safe and driven by success, is ‘deadly’ and most people would agree. In the church, as we discover that creating a weekly event/service is sucking all our time and resources and distracts us from being community together, we speak about the ideal of being process, relationship based. The truth is, however, that processes, relationships, explorations cannot be measured. It is part of our capitalists’ mindset that if it has no profit, measurable success then it is worthless.

Success is measured on product shown, assets, ‘what have you got to show for this?’ The worth of something must be measured. Fresh Expressions are trying to counter this thinking but we can’t fight free from it. My latest experience would be measured as failure. If someone had invested in it then I would have failed and now would be the time to lessen the losses and salvage something from it. I want to shout from the rooftops “This is worth it! I have risked something, stuck my neck out and now I know what would happen!” To butcher a quote from Ernest Hemingway,

‘Only those who are prepared to go too far can possibly know how far they can go.’

I want to stay true to my call to process. To resolutely pursue this call to process, relationship and swim against the current of the capitalism that is a part of both church and theatre. I want to own my disappointment, yes, but to continue to explore the call put upon me. But how do you incarnate the importance of process in a world of product?

Well, like the Cathedral event, work with the current in order to subvert it. Sell a product in order to achieve a process and get people to explore and discover the benefits of the process. It’s a paradox that we exiles need to live in. In order to be counter cultural we need to be in the culture. To show the alternative we need to shine a light on the weakness of the option. Daniel, when in Babylon, lived the good Babylonian life and it was within this that he showed of the alternative way of life or the Pauline model, to become a Jew for the Jews, a
Gentile for the Gentiles all in order to show them the way of Jesus.

Connected with this is some thoughts on Fresh Expressions which were sparked by a fascinating conversation with Paul Burbridge from Riding Lights Theatre Company I had last weekend. He suggested the reason a theatre company cannot be church is down to the need for it to be inclusive of all people. If you limit the membership to those that understand theatre then it cannot be broad and inclusive. This is a very fair point. What makes a ‘theatre church’ church? Inclusion of those from all walks of life. Fresh Expressions need to embrace this inclusivity and not be limited to ‘skater church’, ‘curry church’, etc. Community must be defined by that which unites people in a group. These ‘expressions’ (skater, theatre, curry, etc.) gather people round something that makes them distinct but in order for them to mature into full expressions of church there needs to be deconstruction of that which excludes others.

It’s a paradox that one must define and sell the product in order to show that it’s not about the product; to show people that it’s the process of belonging that is more important than the product that you belong to.

London Calling (part VIII)

As I got home from my long placement in London I was relieved and surprised. Most of my reflections from my placement, on a personal level, revolved around the concept of home and what it means and the impact it has on ministry (see ‘London Calling (part V)‘ post). Having said all that about ‘home’ being a relationship or a state of mind where you feel safe to be vulnerable where you are known and allowed ‘to be’, I found myself associating home with a geographical location; I found myself saying “I just need to get home.” (meaning I need to go to a building in a place.) When I got there I was surprised that a) my home didn’t feel right or relaxing but b) I felt at home. My wife had been with me for five days and still I felt at sea but the moment I saw Durham Cathedral towering into the sky I was restful. My home was different but I still was restful.

As an introvert I put an emphasis on my place, my quiet time, my study! When I got there it had been taken over by my wife, who had been living in our house without me for 25 days. I didn’t feel bitter or shocked by the fact that she needed to go into this room and use the computer and the printer or that she needed to use it as space to put things out of the way. (I did feel upset that this space, this sanctuary had been defiled by alien and idolatorous objects like Body Shop products!) (That’s a joke!) I was remarkably calm about it because I felt close to people who had seen and been a part of a massive shift in my vocational journey and I was now surrounded, even though I hadn’t seen or spoken to them, by people who knew me, as I am now not how I was. I didn’t need to be in a space, talking with them, but I knew they were close and it reminded me of what I was doing.

Then it struck me. My big issue and conflict with my placement was not that what this community were doing was bad or wrong, necessarily, but that I had moved on and I hadn’t realised it. It had been like looking in a mirror after fifty years and not recognising yourself.

All my difficulties, my thoughts and reflections clashing with the people around me, my concept and passions being questioned, My ideas not fitting in with the ministry of the church, all it came down to was this church was what I had known and worked in but I had been formed and shaped for different things.

During my time down in London I had visited my ‘sending’ church, a place where I had served for a year, full-time. When I got there I found myself frustrated and restricted, ‘home’ had changed, or rather I had changed. The person I was is no longer and I had been shaped into something else. When did this change happen? I do not know but all I know is that it has happened.

C.S. Lewis tells the parable of two men travelling over the border from France to Belgium. One is awake at the crossing and could tell people the exact time of the change from France to Belgium, how he felt and how it happened. The other man is asleep and so doesn’t know those details, the only thing he is certain about is that he is now in Belgium. This parable describes the act of conversion but is useful for this scenerio as well… I am now in Belgium! (this analogy must stop here because I’ve been to Belgium and it’s not the same feeling being in Belgium as being in this new mindset!)

So what has changed?

The churches I had been a part of in the past were in a model of Church that was still set in a Christendom mindset. “What is Christendom?” I hear you ask. Well I had a vague understanding of this concept but I felt I needed to go and do some reading to help me process the frustration, difficulties of the placement in London and was recommended a book by Stuart Murray, ‘Post-Christendom’.

Before I go any further I’d like to give a brief review of the book and talk about the concepts it raises. If you’re anything like my wife and think that philosophical and theological debate is a little dull and you read these blogs for the story and personal touches then you may want to skip this bit!

‘Post Christendom’ is really insightful, well researched and has, on the whole, a balanced and fair assessment of the history of the Established Church, finding positives as well as negatives of the growth and changes of the Church in Europe (mainly) over the centuries. One problem I think I have with it is its Anabaptist bias. Anabaptists are a denomination of church that grew out of the Reformation and were, apparently, modelling post-Christendom structures and principles of church. This is the weakness of the book but I’m unsure how great this Anabaptist model of church was without further research.

The basic idea of Christendom, being put forward by Murray, is it is a geopolitical structure established, in part, by Constantine in the 4th century and was built around the Roman Empire and was translated for the Latin culture across Europe into the medieval period. Christendom was the development of a Jewish sect into, what we now know as, the established church of Christ. Christendom is the developed hybrid of state politics and institutional religion. There is a whole biblical interpretation that has grown up as ‘orthodox’ in this system along with an established way of doing church and mission. Murray goes through these and charts the development of ideas such as infant baptism becoming the normal practise, compared with the Early Churches favoured lengthy induction programme for those choosing faith.

Many theologians are now looking at the shift in Europe and the UK from Christendom to an unknown era, currently called ‘post Christendom’. Post Christendom is uncharted territory but needs careful consideration and thought as to how we structure church, engage in mission and interpret scripture. There are many thoughts on how this could be done but the main direction this thinking is taking is towards smaller communities that has a voluntary membership and induction, that prefers dialectic preaching which focuses on exploration of faith. When it comes to mission, so Murray suggests, this ‘post Christendom’ model of church will have a greater emphasis on priesthood of all believers to the extent that it is natural for all members to engage in mission because there will be little distinction between clergy and laity. leaders will be chosen from within the community based on spiritual maturity rather than academic and intellectual prowess.

Those of you who skipped that last bit you can start reading again!

I want to stress that the Christendom model of church (one that is leader led, clergy focussed, monologue based sermons, front led services, etc.) has its strengths. Christendom models of church emphasise a great call for networking, sharing resources and knowledge. The size and stretch of the ‘established/inherited’ church means that a faster impact can be made on our culture and those congregations that struggle financially are supported by others. Christendom is great at attracting those in the world who appreciate the heritage of England and the UK; the truth is Christendom is in this countries DNA whether we like it or not and so it’s important to acknowledge that and to maintain the strengths and positives of that heritage.

My personal issues with my placement church are that I don’t get excited nor do I see myself serving in this model of church. Up front leaders speaking monologue style at their congregation is too much like performance in a theatre. It gets complicated when trying to say that preachers aren’t ‘performing’ a sermon but sharing ideas and reflections on the world and the Word. From my experience leaders in this model of church sometimes pile a lot of pressure on themselves to drive the mission and vision of the church where I see a greater call for the community to drive things and the leader to be like the divine director (see ‘Divine Director (part I and II)‘ posts)

In the final days of my placement I was drawn to look at my journal which i have had since the start of my exploration of vocational ministry. I was struck by two things;

1) Words and pictures given to me years ago before I came to college clearly see me being ‘a part of a new movement’, a call to plant and grow communities and a sense of freshness to my ministry.

and 2) Ezekiel 3 (which has been a passage that has always struck me as important for my personal ministry) has a call to prophetic struggles from a prophet on the inside. It marks out the role of the prophet to call back to the margins those who are secure in the centre.

There’s a lot more reflections needed on my ministry but this new avenue of exploration has released me from a confusion that has clouded my thoughts throughout the placement and afterwards. As I head towards the beginning of my term time placement, I spend less time concerned with what this community will look like but whether I am a humble, sacrificial leader who is able to focus on Jesus as the perfecter of my faith. My discipleship is essential to my leadership.

London Calling (part VII)

As I see the end of my time in London taking large strides towards me like a long awaited loved one, their arms wide open to embrace me, I am struck by the loud crashes behind me forcing me to look back. I am stuck now between turning and embracing the rest and peace after a long a difficult journey and the need to see the explosion behind me to ask “Was that me?” On my journey I have, like all journeys, made decisions to take certain paths and they have all been made with honesty of the situation and with integrity. My decisions have effected people and situations and not all of them were positive.

In my last days of this journey I have found myself asking an important question, which, by me writing this, answers in part.

To blog or not to blog, that is the question?

I have been created as an honest, undivided person who’s principles in ministry is a desire for holistic, raw and real experience of people. If I, as a leader of a community that wants people not just to profess a faith but to live it, allow it to seep into every crevice of life then I need to embody that. If I want people to tell me what’s on their heart, to ask deep and important questions of themselves, of me and of the world around them, then I too need to do so. If I want to preach that Christ ministers to those who can face up to themselves as fallen and broken people then I want to encourage people to see me facing up to myself as fallen and broken.

Journalling,as a spiritual discipline, is important to people like me for whom this is the way that we process experiences. No-one is in doubt of the strength and purpose of this spiritual discipline. How is blogging different from journalling? Blogging is making that which is private public. Blogging is like writing your journal and allowing others to see it. This leads, obviously, to some difficulties in terms of relationship with others. We all have disagreements with those around us. We all struggle to see eye to eye with those who, on the face of it, we are meant to be united with and when someone journals, it is natural to vent, rant and explore those feelings. No one is in doubt of the strength and purpose of this. To blog, however, is to make public that which was private.

As a future, Christian leader, there’s a strange struggle between what I make public and that which I keep private. There are, as usual, many different options of handling this struggle; to keep everything private, to make everything public or various shades in between. As a person who desires, unmasked, raw, real relationship I will naturally side with the not with-holding of information; not to put on a mask. I am fully aware, however, of the need of privacy for others and agree that it is an individual choice whether to make something of individual importance public or not. To put someone in a situation where they are forcibly unmasked in public is pastorally insensitive (I have fallen short here before and for which I am truly sorry!)

So why do I feel the need to make public that which is private?

In lots of instances I choose not to for reasons such as the privacy of others, the safety of others and my understanding that people need to control which masks are worn when.

Why do I feel the need to publish my inner thoughts?

Partly, it’s a pride issue. I own that, acknowledge it and this is a thorn in my flesh; that desperate need for people to look at me and pay me attention. I’m sorry for that but I am human and I need God’s grace afresh. But when it comes to my masks, I want to embody what I believe and get rid of them. I talk a lot about asking questions, of heading into an understanding of faith that does not have one answer but one that is relational and explorative. I want people to know that I am genuine in my search and for people to be encouraged to engage with me in questions and and discoveries.

I don’t have the answers. I am human. I am fallen and broken and I struggle with life. Why do make this public? Because I want to boast in my weakness. I don’t want to be a different person at home than I am in a church community. If this means it’s complicated and difficult then that’s what it’s going to have to be. If this is scary then that’s what it has to be. Jesus’ struggles are public, Jesus’ crucifixion if public, Jesus’ identity is questioned by Himself in public (My God my God, why have you forsaken me?) My personal leadership style, and it is my personal style so I don’t want people to think it’s the only way, is to be the same person behind closed doors as I am in open ones. I want people to see me broken, in pain and struggling in order that they can appreciate my God who makes me strong. I want people to truly know, through my example, that they, broken, lost, confused can experience God and be loved by Him. I want, more than anything else, for people to know that God wants us for who we are not what we’re told to be.

Faith is not a set of doctrinal beliefs but how you live your life. I can agree that money doesn’t make me happy but does it stop me seeking after financial gain? I can agree that God is my refuge and my strength but I can’t say it if I struggle when I’m not at home or with my wife. So do I continue to profess these things when I know I don’t live them out? Sometimes. Should I? No.

My struggle with life and ministry continues. How I work as a leader with both a public life and a private one is a continual struggle. How I earn the right to meet with people and share my faith is ongoing. To blog or not to blog… I want to make public my private struggles because I hope they are an encouragement. I hope they prompt questions in your mind. I hope that by witnessing struggles of faith you will know that you are not alone and that those people you put on pedestals are actually disciples of Christ. I hope that my blogs allow you to turn, face up to your own questions and say

‘To doubt is Divine.’

A lot of the thoughts and reflections I am having in this wrestle come from an interview with Peter Rollins when he visited Mars Hill Church. The recording is below and is 45 mins long. It’s well worth a listen and will piece together, I hope, many disjointed and rambling approach to articulate my current train of thought.

Power of Story

Next time I will try to tie together my reflections and feelings of my wonderful, powerful, difficult and life giving placement in London!