Grace must win…

rainbow church, Dunoon

I have been troubled over the last few months as I have watched from afar as a church I attended for over 10 years has been through a particularly difficult time. The cause of this difficulty was the tiresomely totemic topic of homosexual sexuality- the same one that seems to be rattling the windows of religious institutions up and down the land.

Those of us that might have already been forced into a polarised position on this debate (and perhaps I am one of these) would do well to pause at this point and consider something about the story of the church I am describing. Put aside all thoughts of right wing, American style evangelicalism, because that would not describe this collective at all. It is led by someone I would count as a friend, a kind, sensitive lovely man. Many years ago he said something that has stayed with me ever since. He said “If I am going to make a mistake, let me make a mistake on the side of grace.” The church he has led has sought to be a positive impact on the community they are embedded within; holiday clubs for local kids, helping people who are in debt, running all sorts of other activities aimed at giving people a deeper connection with God. Of course it is not perfect, but I look on this place and the people it contains as good. Not in the sense of ‘better than you’, but rather meaning what happens when ordinary people strive together towards a deeper purpose.

It is of course also true that this Church grew out of a particular stream of theological tradition and understanding. It is ‘evangelical’ in a northern British sense of the world- building on traditions that stretch back into Victorian muscular Bible thumping Christianity.

So, what is the crisis I am describing? I have deliberately not involved myself in detail, but I understand that what happened is that a member of the church, via a post on social media, identified themselves as gay. This led to different (polarised) reactions within the wider congregation and suddenly what had been an issue that could be opined from a distance was knocking at the front door.

The leadership of the church then had to tread that familiar line – the one that Richard Rohr calls the creative tension between religion as requirements and religion as transformation. They were pitched into a series of meetings and discussions, in which they strove in different ways to resolve this tension and to come to a final version of what was correct, Biblical and also sensitive to the individuals involved.

Those of us who have rehearsed these discussions over the years will know exactly what will have been discussed. We will know the relevant Bible passages. We will have heard the arguments about the authority of Scripture and the degree to which we as followers can ‘bind and release’ verses. We will have contrasted the treatment of those verses about homosexuality with a range of other apparently red line issues such as marriage after divorce, the role of women, clothing codes, etc.. We will have heard the biology/lifestyle choice discussions and heard from those who claim to have been ‘delivered’ from the ‘sin’ of homosexuality. We will have heard the line over and over about ‘hating the sin but loving the sinner’.

We will almost certainly have heard less from those others in the pews who are being torn apart by the need to reconcile their own sexuality with the apparent requirements of their religion. Most, of course, will leave church and never return. The alternative is too damaging. Who can survive being forever a second class Christian, loved by obligation but never able escape their own innate ‘sinfulness’?

In the instance described above, I have friends on both sides of the argument. I also have friends who still strive above all things to straddle the two sides – to remain true to both the religion of requirement and the religion as transformation. But in the end, it seemed that the former (religion as requirement) had to dominate. In many ways I am not surprised- the theological underpinnings of Evangelicalism (particularly the fixed position in relation to the interpretation and authority of scripture) might be seen as creating brick walls that are insurmountable for gay/bi/trans folk.  In the end, it is my opinion that these theological underpinnings can not fully co-exist with love.

Unless they are challenged theologically the walls remain and grace can never win.

But challenging them theologically requires engagement with some core concepts of faith that people have based their whole world view upon. Never underestimate how difficult this is for good lovely people who feel caught in a trap, in which their instinct towards grace is thwarted by the absolutes they feel have been decreed by scripture.

But back to Richard Rohr. Today I read the piece below. It seemed painfully resonant with the words of my friend about erring on the side of grace. I have not spoken to him yet about all of this- this is almost certainly not the time, but I hope to do at some point in the future, when the rawness has receded…

The relationship between law and grace is a central issue for almost anyone involved in religion. Basically, it is the creative tension between religion as requirements and religion as transformation. Is God’s favour based on a performance principle (Law)? Or does religion work within an entirely different economy and equation? This is a necessary boxing match, but a match in which grace must win. When it doesn’t, religion becomes moralistic, which is merely the ego’s need for order and control. I am sorry to say, but this is most garden-variety religion. We must recover grace-oriented spirituality if we are to rebuild Christianity from the bottom up.

In Romans and Galatians, Paul gives us sophisticated studies of the meaning, purpose, and limitations of law. He says its function is just to get us started, but legalism too often takes over. Yet Paul’s brilliant analysis has had little effect on the continued Christian idealization of law, even though he makes it very clear: Laws can only give us information; they cannot give us transformation (Romans 3:20; 7:7-13). Laws can give us very good boundaries, but boundary-keeping of itself is a long way from love.

Paul describes Israel as looking for a righteousness derived from the law and yet failing to achieve the purposes of the law. Why did they fail? Because they relied on being privately good instead of trusting in God for their goodness! In other words, they stumbled over the stumbling stone (see Romans 9:31-32). Law is a necessary stage, but if we stay there, Paul believes, it actually becomes a major obstacle to transformation into love and mercy. Law often frustrates the process of transformation by becoming an end in itself. It inoculates us from the real thing, which is always relationship. Paul says that God gave us the law to show us that we can’t obey the law! (See Romans 7:7-13 if you don’t believe me.) Paul even says that the written law brings death, and only the Spirit can bring life (Romans 7:5-6; 2 Corinthians 3:6). This man is truly radical, but it did not take churches long to domesticate him. We’ve treated Paul as if he were a moralist instead of the first-rate mystic and teacher that he is.

Ironically, until people have had some level of inner God experience, there is no point in asking them to follow Jesus’ ethical ideals. It is largely a waste of time. Indeed, they will not be able to even understand the law’s meaning and purpose. Religious requirements only become the source of deeper anxiety. Humans quite simply don’t have the power to obey any spiritual law, especially issues like forgiveness of enemies, nonviolence, self-emptying, humble use of power, true justice toward the outsider, and so on, except in and through union with God. Or as Jesus put it, “the branch cut off from the vine is useless” (John 15:5).

In quoting this piece, I know that the problem (or the creative tension) is in no way solved – not in the collective sense at least. I know what sits well with my own soul, but each of us who still try to live in the creative tension must find our own way through, which is always so much easier as an individual than trying to find a position that is acceptable to a congregation.

If we red line matters of private sexuality, whatever our position on the matter, as being pre-eminent in deciding the individual’s acceptability in church (and in church leadership) then we hold to a rather bizarrely skewed theology- one that continues to promote sexual morality over all of those other moral decisions we make every day. It is a theology that throws the first stone at gay people…

…not gluttons (or fat people like me would be excluded from leadership)

….not those who store up possessions (or people with houses full of stuff like would no longer be welcome in churches)

…not those despise the outsider (or people who support  the building of walls and the exclusion of immigrants would not be welcome in churches)

…not those who support war (or people who support invasions of middle eastern countries would not be welcome in churches- even in the face of terrorism)

I could go on but you get my point.

Most of us would still maintain that in the end, grace must win. We will all need it, not just those who happen to have been born with a different sexual make up.

 

 

Small people…

Read this today (here)…

The late Uruguayan author Eduardo Galeano once expressed his deepest concern that “we are all suffering from amnesia … [that makes us] blind to small things and small people”. Who, I asked him, was responsible for this forgetfulness. “It’s not a person,” he explained. “It’s a system of power that is always deciding in the name of humanity who deserves to be remembered, and who deserves to be forgotten.”

If you are in any doubt about how our own society, dominated by the twisted logic of ‘Austerity’, views small people, then you really need to watch this film.

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Expect to be devastated. Not by the hard story it tells, as much as by the moments of kindness perpetrated by ordinary people. Small people

It is hard to escape the logic emerging from the Bible narrative- where we see systematic waves of Empire rising up and promoting the accumulation of power and wealth over the worth of small people.

The Jesus-logic of the Beatitudes turns this upside down and inside out.

Blessed are those who are poor in spirit…

Blessed are they in failure
Blessed are they in defeat
And blessed are they in
Every empty success
Blessed are they when plans, laid out-
Are stolen

And dreams are drained by

Middle age

Blessed are the wage slaves
And the mortgage makers
Blessed are those who keep on treading

This treadmill

Blessed are they who have no hope
And for whom life is
Grey and formless

Blessed are the B-list
And the has-been’s

Blessed are they at the end
Of all their coping

For here I am

And here I am building

My Kingdom

1984 and more…

1984

 

The field was full, said Spicer

The NHS is broken

The Holocaust was fake news

The world is not warming

(And I never touched that woman)

Wealth trickles down

Poverty is the direct consequence of indolence

 

Ignore those pinko academics,

for I have alternative facts

from the University of Google

 

Conspiracy is the spice of digital life

This toxicity resists all known antibiotics

It seems that even silicon

Can fester

 

I did not say what you heard me say

And should you contradict

Future truth will land only in the laps

Of some other network

 

Reality is inside the human skull said O’Brian

It has no external dimension

With a dismissive flick of my hand

I remake the laws of nature

1984

And more.

 

Another (cricket) season starts…

 

Campbell facing

I have a small confession. Despite its ephemeral frivolity, few things in life (aside from family) make me as uncomplicatedly happy as…

…cricket.

I know, I know, it is just sport- a way of passing time whilst real life happens all around. In these times it may even be the equivalent of fiddling whilst Rome burns. But if you have ever played the game you will know what I mean.

Yesterday, I dragged myself (despite being near death from man flu) to Bute to play in the first league game of the season against Ardencaple (Helensburgh 2nd IX.) We won. Will scored a fine and sometimes brutal 82, I contributed a much less fine 37 and then took 3 for 17. We managed a total of 217 for 9 from 40 overs, Ardencaple were all out for 144. It feels good to win, but winning is not necessary for joy at our level of cricket. In fact some might say it is a little vulgar, a bit too keen.

My mate Graham played for his team yesterday (Hutton Rudby) and posted this magnificent result on FB- they were all out for 4 off 15 overs. Such a result is to be celebrated. It suggests to me not incompetence, but passion. It is no shame to be outclassed and outplayed on the cricket field- the point of playing cricket really is the simple joy of the game. In fact, the team who overwhelmed Hutton Rudby should feel shame that they did not extend the match beyond 15 overs- there is an art to this- bringing on the weaker bowlers at the right time- giving a little for the sake of the day.

Out

So how am I able to justify this puerile love for a simple game of bat and ball? Of course I could talk about the great events in international cricket- titanic clashes of style and willpower in front of ecstatic crowds. But instead, I offer this;

REASONS TO LOVE LOWER LEAGUE CRICKET

  1. It is a great leveller. Players of all abilities make up one team. Some players are brilliant, others totally inept. All are welcome.
  2. Youth is nurtured by age in the same playing arena. Where else does that still happen?
  3. I get to play with my son Will. He has decided that the cut and thrust of division one is too serious, too much pressure. He wants to have fun. Yesterday I batted with him for 10 overs. It does not get much better than that.
  4. The banter. There is a kind of banter on a cricket field that is like no other. It is allowed to be crude, but not rude. Any abuse should be reserved for team mates.
  5. Passion. It is allowed, but when it erupts into anger (a dropped catch, a ball allowed through the legs for four etc.) then everyone is a bit embarrassed.
  6. Great things can be achieved by mediocrity. The stunning catch taken with a smack between the man boobs. The miraculously improbable six. The terrible bowler who cleans up the oppositions gun batsman, who can’t believe what just happened to him.
  7. Team/Individual. Cricket is an individual game in a team context. This means that we play for ourselves, whilst looking out for each other.
  8. A series of events. We play 40 over matches (the island location of the team has meant the the league has shortened our matches by ten overs to allow for ferry traffic!) This means 240 balls. 240 events. Each one its own mini-drama.
  9. The games within the game. Even in a miss-match, there will be moment where individual bowler-batman confrontations are electrifying.
  10. It allows a kind of very UN-digital friendship and community that has become rare. Where these gatherings develop they should be honoured and nurtured.
  11. The game will go on. There is an almost tangible yearning to ‘hand it on’ to the next generation. It may not be like it was in our day, but this is not necessarily a bad thing.

So, to all of you who turn up into the mizzle of a damp day, hope in hand for one more innings – play on.

It will liberate no captives, nor fight any major injustices, but nevertheless, for the simple joy of it – play on.

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Aoradh Wilderness Retreat 2017: Eilean Dubh Mor…

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This year, we went here. 11 of us, old friends and some retreating for the first time.

It was a small island, one which even I had passed by and hardly noticed. But it was lovely. More than lovely, it was beautiful. A tiny jewel of a place, with a pebbled coast line punctuated by deep dry caves (we even slept in one. Or we would have slept, had it not been for the phantom snorer…)

The island is small, but big enough to do that thing that islands do; they expand to become your whole world. After landing (courtesy of Seafari) we explored, searching for shelter from the wind and above all, water. It has been so dry of late that water was in short supply- we found none running, apart from the odd drip from a shaded cliff face, so we had to manage with dark brown water taken from brackish pools. I have drunk far worse however, despite the chlorine tablets.

As usual we divided our time between stillness and laughter. We cooked over fires, making bread in an stone oven and cooking pancakes on hot rocks pulled back from the flames. We roasted lamb and shared a meal of haggis.

As usual, Crawford was in just the right place to whisper in an Otter’s ear. We saw a school of dolphins (we think they were the relatively rare Risso’s dolphins) on the hunt. Golden Eagles flew overhead and all sorts of feathered things flitted in and through the trees that grow in the sheltered places.

I stood on the high place – a volcanic plug on one end of the island – and all around me were old friends, islands where we have been before. The Garvellachs on one side, Scarba and Jura off in the distance, Lunga shouldered close.

But the real friendship was found in the company I kept. Sharing life like this is not just a pleasure, somehow is seems to make me a better person. In giving, I receive so much more. In hearing a mixture of stories, some of real hardship, some of great progress, my life is deeply enriched. Deep thanks to those of you who came this time. May each and every one of you journey well. Apart from the Phantom snorer. Whoever you are.

Thanks to the owner of the island, Mr Cadzow, for sharing it with us.

Some photos;

 

Cupped…

serving-hands

Practice the wound of love

Let it devastate

It will scrape your soul

For blessed are the gentled

Blessed are the meek

Blessed are those whose fullness

Now lies empty

 

Practice the wound of love

For in that broken place

Grief is no longer silent

Ragged roots tap deep

Into this trampled earth

Blessed are you, as you reach for love

For it reaches for you

 

Practice the wound of love

Let it devastate

For nothing ever came from nothing

Apart from love

At the end of everything

We are cups

Who are cupped

We are held

Aoradh Wilderness Trip 2017- anyone fancy coming along?

Looking north towards the other Garvellachs

For many years, over the May bank holiday weekend, I have been taking a trip with some old friends out to one of the many deserted islands of the inner Hebrides in order to make a kind of retreat. It is something that we have shared with many ‘guests’- some who have been once, others who have become regulars and firm friends.

We are likely to have some spaces on the boat this year and so if you fancy coming along then get in touch.

We will probably be going here. We will leave early on the morning of Saturday the 29th April from Easdale, and be picked up by the boat on Monday afternoon (1st May.) We will confirm these details.

There are some posts describing past trips on this blog – here are a few;

Lunga 2016.

Eilean Mor 2015

A few reflections on wilderness.

Eileach an Naoimh 2011.

The basics of the trips as as follows;

  • We go as a group of supportive friends- this is not a commercial trip. We have no insurance etc.
  • We can supply suggest kit list etc.
  • Costs are just for boat and your own travel etc. Boat will be around £60 each (we split total cost between amount of us that go
  • We camp wild. Not as challenging as you would think
  • We may get wet and cold
  • We split time between ‘social’ and ‘silent’
  • We share experience and conversation in the evening
  • We take resources but you can do whatever you like
  • We start from a Christian tradition, but seek no converts and welcome anyone who is comfortable to talk about their own spiritual journey.

If you are interested, get in touch!

Campfire