Monthly Archives: July 2010
Emerging church and the new Charismatic-Mystics…
I came across a post on on the Emergent Village blog that really resonated with me. This was a piece by Dave Brown, who speaks really well about his background in the Charismatic movement. His ambivalence towards this background is very familiar- a combination of cringe and affection that I have spoken about before- here for example.
He talks about a new emergent kind of Charismatic movement, typified by the tripped out whacky stuff that surrounds John Crowder- Check this out!
Scary?
Hilarious?
Or just totally baffling?
My reaction is no surprise to me. Mostly I just recoil. But I have been in environments like this- usually hiding behind a guitar, but enough to feel a slight yearning for the uninhibited emotional and spiritual outpouring that such encounters provide- even the slightly more buttoned-down British version of them.
And talking of the British version, Dave makes mention in his article of Sloshfest- and other festivals in Wales, associated with familiar names (to us here in Aoradh anyway) like Godfrey Birtill. (We invited him to Dunoon once, and it was a bit of a road accident- but that is another story!)
Check out this site too- by the ‘Drunk Monk’.
What of all this then? Those of us who have escaped environments like these have common stories- of the oppression and madness that comes when you overheat and over sell ecstatic experience, leading to all sorts of leadership excesses and psychological damage. But we will also remember the freedom, then joy, the sense of release and belonging. Lots of good, mixed in with some really bad. I am happy to leave most of it behind…
But fringe movements like this are emerging at the same time as our own. People are forging a new frontier of faith, because the old one is whithering- and as Dave points out in his article our direction has been too often into the intellect- we have congratulated and celebrated deconstruction and theological debate. And we have eschewed emotion, and joy, and outward celebration.
And to be honest, I have simply never liked ambient chilled out music. I like music that engages, rather than simply providing a blank wallpaper.
I liked what Dave had to say here-
None of us on the fringes want to be held down by spiritual tyranny. That’s why we’ve voluntarily exiled ourselves to the desert of edge-pushing spirituality. And that was one of the things that attracted people like my parents to the Charismatic movement. They wanted more than establishment-friendly religion. And while Charismania has frequently (and often rightly) been criticized as all emotion and no substance, I think it’s unwise to adhere to the opposite extreme of all head and no heart. More specifically, I think we all could handle a little more emotion in our spiritual regimen. It’s okay to cry or laugh in church. It’s okay to express our passion with boisterous antics…or weepy, knees-on-floor reverence.
It’s okay to come out from behind the mask of objective distance. Because sometimes life sucks and we need to share the burden with somebody. And sometimes God has worked a miracle and we need to shout it from the rooftops. Sometimes we’re pissed off and it does more harm to hold it in. And sometimes we’ve experienced a hit of holy joy and freedom that we can’t explain, and we should share these things because that’s what community is for.
I don’t want this precious movement of the emerging church to end up as just another dry, debate-filled clique that gradually becomes the empire it set out to avoid. But I have enormous hope that that will never be the case. Because we are all part of a bigger story that will continue to evolve. Even as we sometimes try to distance ourselves from the label, we on the fringes are still an integral part of the larger Christian movement that’s been rolling on for millennia, and it always will be bigger than any one empire that tries to lay claim to it.
Amen brother (as I used to say)
Amen.
Internet communication- the cyber space between us…
I had an e-mail from a friend today.
I had not spoken to him for a while as our last communication had been rather contentious- first over Facebook, then by e-mail. I had been trying to catch up with him to have a face to face discussion but it had not worked out yet- phone calls missed, text messages crossed- you know how it goes.
It left me reflecting not for the first time (see here for example,) on how the internet allows for a million connections- all of which lack something crucially human. And of how it allows us to sit in our isolated boxes and have the illusion of human interaction via all sorts of electronic devices, but still to remainwholly alone.
That is not entirely fair of course- it is possible to send lots of information by means of our computers and the glorious internet. For example- you are reading this. But as a means of doing what humans were really made to do- to share our lives in community- it has major flaws.
It lacks flesh.
It closes us off from all of those human communication nuances- body language, facial expression, physical touch.
It is constantly open to misinterpretation.
It places communication at a distance from emotion.
It promotes volume (‘hits’, numbers of face book friends, connection speed etc.) over quality and depth.
When the going gets tough, it is even easier to move on- simply take someone off of your contact list.
The best of what we are is revealed through our human community- the love we show for one another and the sacrifices we are prepared to make for one another. You simply can not do this in any kind of complete way via a computer screen.
Back to the e-mail. This is what it said-
Hello,
I am caught up in a real mess and i need your help. I’m sorry I didn’t inform you about my trip ,I had a trip to the NEW YORK and a bizarre thing happened to me.I was mugged at gun point last night, the muggers carted away with all my belongings excluded my passport.Cell,c-card,cash and some important documents are all gone.
I was able to make contact with the US Police and i was directed to the Consular office, but they seems to be taking things to slow. i need your help so urgently.. My flight leaves pretty soon but i am having problems sorting out the hotel bills and also need getting my ticket straightened out. I need your help. I need a quick loan to get things fixed out here, I promise to refund as soon as i get back home.. please reply as soon as you get these email. so i can tell you what to do and how to get the money to me..
Hope to read from you soon..
Now to be honest, I was sceptical. But my friend has American connections, so I thought that it was not impossible that he was indeed in trouble and needed help, so I replied asking him what was going on, and what he needed. I then received a reply that suggested that he needed $1500, and way for me to pay.
I phoned my friend, and he answered. He was not in New York- of course it was a scam, as someone had hacked into his Google mail account.
But we managed to plan to meet next week- and I am really looking forward to seeing him again. E-mails are dangerous, but sometimes they can facilitate real connections, and for that, I am grateful.
Anyone want to buy a used crown of thorns?
I have been continuing to enjoy the radio 4 series ‘A History of the world in 100 objects.’ It is a great idea- using ancient objects as windows into the culture and circumstances that produced them. It almost (but not quite) justifies all of that Victorian relic collecting in the days of Empire (otherwise known as plundering.)
Todays programme concerned itself with an object I had never heard of before- the Holy Thorn Reliquary.
This object was made some time around the 1390’s to be the receptacle for a thorn from what is claimed to be the crown of thorns that Jesus was made to wear when he was crucified.
It is decorated with scenes of the crucifixion, and an imagination of the return of Jesus on the day of judgement. It is a fabulously expensive object- covered in jewels and gold. The thorn itself is displayed behind some polished rock crystal.
The King of France bought the Crown from Constantinople around 1239- after it had been sold to the Venetians to pay off a debt.
At the time, it was probably the most valuable and expensive object in the whole of Christendom. Its owner was able to use it as evidence of his piety and power, and claim it as a blessing on his nation and Kingship.
In many ways, this object might be seen to objectify a pre modern medieval world view that the coming of the modern enlightenment and the Reformation swept away. All the bad stuff of bloody crusades and rich sinners buying indulgences to atone for terrible crimes.
And of course, in the brisk trade in religious relics- from the bones of minor saints, right through to the Holy Grail, or fragments of the true cross of Jesus.
But perhaps the most venerated object of all is the Crown of Thorns- kept as it is in the centre of the most famous Cathedral in the middle of Paris- Notre Dame. Stained with the blood of Jesus. Forced onto the head of God, come to earth.
Now I know what you are thinking- surely no one really thinks that these objects are genuine?
It certainly seems that people did- from as long ago as 409 AD there are records of people venerating these objects, and the King of France was prepared to shell out a huge sum of money- 5 times the cost of building a cathedral- to get hold of the Crown of Thorns.
What interests me, as ever, is what these objects might have meant to the faith of individuals- indeed, what they might STILL mean to the faith of individuals. Where they just power statements of a faith-gone-wrong, or was there something about them that might have carried the sacred into people’s minds and hearts?
Like all faith, we can only understand from our own perspective. Meaning is always filtered by context and experience.
We POST moderns seem to have a fascination with the pre-modern world. It represents a mystical perspective that we lost for a few hundred years- replaced by hard logic and rational discourse.
And these relics offer a window into other forms of Christian faith…
Rehearsing for old age…
The kids are away for a week on holiday with some friends. Gulp.
They will have a lovely time, but it is strange for M and me. We have not spent so much time alone for 14 years.
Today a storm blew along the Clyde and interrupted our industry. A blessing in wind and rain, gifting us with a slow Sunday morning reading, listening to music and snuggling on the sofa.
These days are rare indeed.
And how blessed I am that I get to share mine with M…
Today we rehearsed old age
And it was lovely
.
Our bones went soft
And our muscles ceased their strain
.
There is a storm on the old river
And kind grey light makes
Our faces take on
Graceful lines
And shadows
.
You on the sofa
And me in my chair
.
Today we rehearsed old age
And it was lovely
Reflecting on the losing of humanity…
Thank the good Lord for Friday. It has been another long hard week.
Regular readers and friends will know that I earn a living by working as a mental health social worker- for around 20 years now. Or to be honest, these days I do not do a lot of social work (although I still practice as a Mental Health Officer)- I do this other thing called ‘management’. Some days I am not sure how much longer I can do it.
What has allowed me to survive so long working within a large bureaucratic institution has been two things- firstly the need to provide for my family, and secondly the hope that I might be able to genuinely make a difference to the lives of the people I work with. In management, it is possible to fulfil the first, but the second- well the evidence is not as strong.
Being in contact with people in the extremes of distress and crisis on a daily basis does something to you. It is impossible to stay as emotionally engaged as we do when we first begin these encounters. The best of my colleagues hold on to their compassion however- we nurture it by making it shape our language, our small talk and the way we treat everyone we come across. We have learnt that kindness in the small things, despite terrible external circumstances, can indeed make a difference.
And sometimes that is the only thing we have to offer.
Images by Fred Kleinberg
In the course of my work, I come across people who have done terrible things. People who others would say have lost all sense of humanity.
People who have harmed children, or killed and dismembered people.
Others who have locked themselves away (or been locked away) and have lost or forgotten almost all basic skills of human interaction.
Perhaps most striking is watching people slowly destroyed by addiction. To see them in the later stages of this- near to death- and wonder what incredible life force keeps a person alive when skin is bright jaundice-yellow and all organs are playing discords.
Sometimes it seems that almost all that makes us human is gone.
Almost- but not all.
Because in all of these people, despite their brokenness, what is left- what is most visible, is… their humanity.
Unhidden, undefended, right on the surface like an open flesh wound.
And should we lose sight of this, the danger is that it is not their humanity that will be at risk- but rather our own.
I wrote this in response to a recent event…
Deep in the soup and the stew of him
In the ooze and glisten of his grey matter
Some synapses spark and flicker
Sending out electro-chemical dots and dashes
.
And he- wired almost to breaking point
Is all strung out
Senses dulled
But deadly receptive
.
So bone becomes knuckle
Muscles turn to gristle
And poisoned sinew moves like a snake
Ready to strike
.
Later some said he was evil
That some dark thing was in him
Others called him mad
A flesh machine gone wrong
.
Still others bayed for his blood
-as if enough had not been spilt already
They want eyes put out for the eyes he closed
And every broken tooth smashed in return
.
Me, I stand over a stain in an old carpet
Through which something human has fallen
And feel a little of myself
Drain away






