I read this on FB today- and loved it. I know it is easier, and even quite seductive to focus what we are NOT than to grapple with what we actually stand on, but even so, some things need saying, and Jim- you said it well…
“God is not a belief-system.
Jesus is not a religion.
The good news is not a ticket to Heaven.
Church is not an address.
The Bible is not a book of doctrines.
Transformation is not behavior modification.
Community is not a meeting.
Grace has no exceptions.
Ministry is not a program.
Art is not carnal.
Women are not inferior.
Our humanity is not the enemy.
Sinner is not our identity.
Love is not a theory.
Peace is not a circumstance.
Science is not secular.
Sex is not filthy.
The herelife is not a warm-up for the afterlife.
The world is not without hope.
There is no “us” and “them.”
Tattoos are not evil.
Loving the earth is not satanic.
Seeing the divine in all things is not heretical.
Self-actualization is not self-worship.
Feelings are not dangerous and unreliable.
The mind is not infallible.”
I find myself mulling over some comments made on an old post of mine from a few years ago- in which I was chewing on a particular understanding of prophecy within some of the UK church, and a prophecy spoken about ‘fires from the North’ by a woman called Jean Darnell in particular. You can read the post and the comments here. I think I have said most of what I want to say on this issue during the post and responses to comments.
In some ways it feels foolish to respond to some comments made there because people tend to bring very fixed attitudes to these debates; I do so more out of politeness and hospitality, with a dose of trepidation as I do not enjoy conflict- even of the virtual kind. All the angry shouting at one another that we do, particularly over matters of faith, seems to be such a sad waste of time. However I wrote a post that was contentious in the first place so I had it coming I suppose.
The question that I am left with is one that I also asked in the post mentioned above- what is the point of revival?
If you are not from a particular Christian tradition you may not know what I mean- it will all seem like something that belongs to an alien world (perhaps you are right.) However there have been many recorded ‘revival’ events throughout history. They are religious/social phenomena that have had lasting effects on our societies and cultures- the most recent ones in the UK were the Welsh Revival (1908), and the Hebridean Revival;
In fact, this last revival is still often held up as what we should all be earnestly seeking after and praying for. As if this was the ultimate expression of what it means to be a Christian. If we could some how have revival it will have been all worth it. We will be PROPER Christians. Our faith will be vindicated. God will truly be on our side. All the others will be wrong. All those sinners will get their come uppance. It will be great.
Given the decline of Christianity in these islands- the closure of Church after Church, the perception of Britain becoming a post-Christian society, more favourable to other faiths but happy to persecute Christians (which is nonsense of course, but a widely held belief) then it is perhaps no surprise that a remnant clings to the idea of revival as some kind of last gasp turn-around.
I find all this problematic, for many reasons. In the post mentioned earlier, I said this;
Jean Darnell was speaking out of a particular context and understanding of evangelism- which longed and hoped for REVIVAL- transformative, all encompassing Holy Spirit saturated revival. No other move of God makes sense, and as such, the prophecy comes from a wish-fulfilling impulse. Revivals like this have happened here before (Wales, Outer Hebrides for example) and continue to happen in other parts of the world (Korea, parts of Africa.) However the outcome and aftermath of these outpourings is often very mixed. I no longer think that attempting to conjour and cajole God into reviving us should be our prime focus.
Because of the decline in church, certain embattled remnants hold on to this prophecy with both hands. We NEED it to be true- because the alternative is an end to all that is held dear. However there is such danger in this- we become people desperate for heavenly Holy Spirit intervention, and forget the call to be Agents of the Kingdom here and now, rather than in the future.
I have lived and moved in this tradition, and know how all consuming and possibly deceiving it can be. It is a kind of wish-fulfilling, magical faith- which places incredible pressure on individual members to BELIEVE because if not then their lack of faith will prevent the things coming to pass. The legacy of the great revivals we look back to with such enthusiasm is also rather mixed- often leading to excess and in some cases absolute oppression- whilst being over and gone so quickly.
Revivals are rare events, particularly in a cynical post modern context which is rather devoid of large movements of people who are prepared to be seduced by one ideology- unless it is an anti-ideology; one that espouses the failure of the ideologies that have been. However, perhaps we are seeing a change here- things are polarising again, Extremes are becoming normalised. Racism is re invented as patriotism. Selfishness is re branded as citizenship. There will be a reaction from the left, sooner or later. The Church too will have to raise a voice…
Back to the point of this piece though- what is revival for? Neil, who commented on the Jean Darnell piece suggested it was for these things;
The point is that God is glorified by those who once vilified Him.
The point is that wretched sinners are reconciled to an angry God and become holy.
The point is that precious souls for whom Jesus died are swept into His Kingdom.
And the point of the next and probably last one, is to prepare Scotland, the UK, and the rest of the world for the return of our glorious King!
Neil does a great job here of summarising a kind of evangelical/charismatic orthodoxy around the point of revival. I find so many questions about this list however, and the underlying assumptions behind it.
Does God need revival in order to be glorified? If so, why so infrequently?
An angry God. Lord forgive me but that very phrase makes me angry. Who can say what angers God most? Jesus seemed to get the most stirred up by the religious hard assumptions thrown about by people. Then there is the whole debate around substitutionary atonement.
Saving souls. Whatever we understand that to mean. Revivals do seem to involve lots of transformation of society for the good- drugs, alcohol problems, anti social behaviour, people learning to love one another, all that sort of thing. But this is not the kind of saving souls that are being referred to here- this is all about going to heaven when you die.
The return of Jesus. We come to eschatology, and the other set of assumptions about living in ‘end times’. Revival is necessary to persuade Jesus to come again. Quite what the Biblical justification of this view might be has always been beyond me, but it is a remarkably pervasive idea.
So, here are my soft, uncertain conclusions about revivals, for what they are worth. I know many of you fervently disagree, and if you do you are welcome to your views. Some of them might even be proved correct. I am very human after all.
Revivals are rare events, often containing many odd, even dangerous elements. They are psycho-social events as well as religious ones.
The circumstances in which they take place are less about the fervency of the prayerful few, and much more to do with the nature of the society, the point of history and the receptiveness of the context that they explode within
The aftermath of revival is often mixed. Think of the splintering of the church in the Hebrides, with so many petty squabbles over doctrine. Think of the hard judgemental attitudes that live hand in hand with the rivival-now-gone-cold.
The longing for revival within the church owes much to the underlying assumptions of evangelicalism- the need to save souls, to be proved right, to be vindicated in the face of an increasingly secular society. It is a focus on the world beyond, not on the here and now.
I find it hard to square this kind of revival with the way of Jesus. He constantly brought people back to now- to the reality of loving actively and deliberately in the face of all sorts of negativity and outright oppression.
I find the idea that the LACK of revival is somehow the fault of people like me who do not have enough faith, do not pray for it enough, rather circular and ludicrous. If the point of revival is to save souls, then is God prepared to let them burn because I do not ‘get it’? Really?
One final word- I have been speaking about revival as in a kind of mass phenomenological event. There are other kinds however- quieter ones, involving transformational encounters between people and what I would suggest to be the Living God. These things are precious, private and beautiful- I know this to be true because I have seen it- not once, but many many times. This is not magic, nor the waving of some supernatural wand that makes everything better instantly, but rather it is a process of transformation nevertheless.
This kind of revival I have no hesitation in praying for. Particularly in myself.
We all kind of know that the system of economic growth we are hooked on is not sustainable. However, it is so pervasive in how we understand the world that envisioning life without it is almost impossible. Take the concept of ‘economic growth’. Put simply, without growth we stagnate. Without an overall increase in the stuff we consume, own, or waste year on year, quarter by quarter, our economy is seen to be failing. In fact our politics dwells in the ever present fear of the spectre of of this terrible thing called recession. So much so that we allow them to sacrifice support to the poorest and weakest of our number by cutting social supports in the name of ‘stimulating growth.’
Let us imagine that in 3030BC the total possessions of the people of Egypt filled one cubic metre. Let us propose that these possessions grew by 4.5% a year. How big would that stash have been by the Battle of Actium in 30BC? This is the calculation performed by the investment banker Jeremy Grantham.
Go on, take a guess. Ten times the size of the pyramids? All the sand in the Sahara? The Atlantic ocean? The volume of the planet? A little more? It’s 2.5 billion billion solar systems. It does not take you long, pondering this outcome, to reach the paradoxical position that salvation lies in collapse.
To succeed is to destroy ourselves. To fail is to destroy ourselves. That is the bind we have created. Ignore if you must climate change, biodiversity collapse, the depletion of water, soil, minerals, oil; even if all these issues miraculously vanished, the mathematics of compound growth make continuity impossible.
Put like that, the whole pursuit of economic growth is madness right? Monbiot says more than this however, he points out this kind of economic growth was only ever possible because of the fossil fuels that we have been burning for the last 300 years or so;
Economic growth is an artefact of the use of fossil fuels. Before large amounts of coal were extracted, every upswing in industrial production would be met with a downswing in agricultural production, as the charcoal or horse power required by industry reduced the land available for growing food. Every prior industrial revolution collapsed, as growth could not be sustained. But coal broke this cycle and enabled – for a few hundred years – the phenomenon we now call sustained growth.
It was neither capitalism nor communism that made possible the progress and pathologies (total war, the unprecedented concentration of global wealth, planetary destruction) of the modern age. It was coal, followed by oil and gas. The meta-trend, the mother narrative, is carbon-fuelled expansion. Our ideologies are mere subplots. Now, with the accessible reserves exhausted, we must ransack the hidden corners of the planet to sustain our impossible proposition.
How do we stop this? Monbiot thinks that first of all we have to SEE it, but most of us simply do not;
The inescapable failure of a society built upon growth and its destruction of the Earth’s living systems are the overwhelming facts of our existence. As a result, they are mentioned almost nowhere. They are the 21st century’s great taboo, the subjects guaranteed to alienate your friends and neighbours. We live as if trapped inside a Sunday supplement: obsessed with fame, fashion and the three dreary staples of middle-class conversation: recipes, renovations and resorts. Anything but the topic that demands our attention.
Statements of the bleeding obvious, the outcomes of basic arithmetic, are treated as exotic and unpardonable distractions, while the impossible proposition by which we live is regarded as so sane and normal and unremarkable that it isn’t worthy of mention. That’s how you measure the depth of this problem: by our inability even to discuss it.
Step forward then the politician who is prepared to say that economic growth is no longer desirable nor advisable, and that we need to learn to love what we have, to mend stuff, to share stuff and to live within our localities.
We are down in Durham this weekend for a cricket match between England and Sri Lanka (not looking good at the moment as it is raining. UPDATE- it did not rain and they lost badly) It gave us a chance to meet up with friends Graham and Victoria, and for our kids to play a game of car park cricket!
Last night we walked along the river in Durham, and up through the beautiful Cathedral close and the old streets full of university colleges. Durham (despite the hoards of drunken hen parties) is such a lovely place, but it has all sorts of violent history.
A lot of it concerns battles with Scottish armies coming down from the North. For example, this one. Then there was the Northern rebellion (involving Mary Queen of Scots,) then the fear of the Highlanders marauding down from the north which became every child’s nightmare for 200 years or more.
Will and I had a conversation about his history lessons, where they sat and watched Mel Gibson’s Braveheart- something which makes me very cross because to even vaguely suggest that this film is ‘history’ seems to me to be deeply concerning. The teacher did seem to point out some historical inaccuracies (check out the wikipedia entry) but this once again misses the point.
Last night the British public primarily elected the UK Independence Party to represent us at the European parliament. UKIP are a party based around two right wing simplistic ideas; ‘Europeans are not to be trusted’ and ‘we don’t want any more immigrants coming into our country taking our jobs/houses/benefits/hospital beds.’ It is a party that has learned nothing from history, and seems to have effectively engaged the British with cartoon versions of human interaction. Like Braveheart does. My fear is that in a time when minority extremist parties are holding sway in our minds, we need more than ever to remember the lessons of history…
The point I tried to convey to Will is that the greatest danger of these kinds of simplistic good-against-evil depictions of races and creeds is that it makes it possible for powerful people to manipulate one group against the other. If Johnny foreigner is evil; less than human; if he is the problem – the very cause of our difficulties – then we will focus on him and forget all sorts of other issues- inequality, imperialism, injustice, poverty, greed, narrow minded prejudice etc etc.
On a bridge just below the stunningly beautiful cathedral in Durham is an old stone tablet which makes this point in a few different ways. It is carved with these words;
WordPress kindly informed me this morning that I have now been hammering away on this blog for six years.
Many times I have thought it was time to stop blogging and turn my energies to something else, but each time I have found myself returning. I no longer write each day, but I still find that the process of collecting my thoughts into some kind of external offering is a useful one for me- a way of shaping my experience to something deeper, something more deliberately spiritual. I strive to be as honest as I can be, and mostly I think I achieve this, albeit with the inevitably bias of human perspective.
I had a bit of a row with a manager in work a while or so ago over a piece that I wrote reflecting on a work issue. It highlighted the blurred lines between the person/public that blogs venture into. How much of myself is it OK to share in such a public way? How much of other people’s lives is it OK to mention? It is so easy to forget that people actually occasionally READ things that I write. The manager I mentioned was an intensely private person and it was clear that s/he had no comprehension as so why I would ever spill my soul on to the internet. The whole episode was quite upsetting at the time and it caused me to step back and review again my own motivations.
Back in 2011, I borrowed and revised a list of reasons for blogging from Tall Skinny Kiwi (Andrew Jones) who has been blogging since the stone age- most of us became imitators of his style really, unwittingly or not. He suggested this list, with Bible references and everything;
1. Praise (public acknowledgement) – “publish glad tidings daily”
2. Accountability. (Eph. 5: 21 “Submit yourselves to one another”, quote from Athanasias)
3. Vulnerability (Daniel’s window)
4, Given-ness (Freely you have received, gift economy, Prov 11:24)
5. Creative Naming (Adam, Neighbors in Ruth)
6. Repentance (editing/deleting/changing our mind in new media)
7. Fellowship (hypertext linking, Koinonia)
8. Evangelism (storytelling, blogging from our lives)
9. Integrity (writing matches our speaking, design reflects reality)
10. Posterity. (store/guard what has been entrusted, writing history)
There was also another one: Watchfulness (“watch and pray”).
I think I would add a couple more-
11. Creativity- most writers would say that words shape us as we shape them.
12. Discipline and long term commitment- blogging output varies, but it demands mostly daily commitment over a long time to develop a voice.
But I think blogging should come with a little warning for introspective folk like me- it can be addictive, and it is not the only spiritual discipline- and should never become dominant in our lives above other things that carry us towards ‘the other.’
There is also physical community. Having said that, I recently had the pleasure of sharing a tiny island with several friends, all of whom I would never have the pleasure of knowing but for blogging… It is a strange new world we find ourselves in, with connections sparked by cyberspace as much (if not more than) locality, but in the end, it is still all about seeking the depth in ourselves, and the seeing the beauty in the other.
We have been spending a lot of time in the car lately, which is always good for two things- conversation, and listening to lots of music.
Michaela has this thing with music- it takes her about two three years to find her way into something new, and then something will grab her and she will play it over and over. It says something about our disparate personalities that I like something on the first time of listening, or probably will never like it at all (with a few notable exceptions, revisited as musical taste evolves.)
The soundtrack to our recent journeys has often been a band called Phantom Limb. Will and I discovered them a few years ago at Greenbelt Festival- we stood in a more or less empty field during the mid afternoon graveyard slot and were stunned by the sounds hitting us from the stage. Waves of complex harmonies, and a fusion of country, gospel and soul that did something to my innards.
Phantom limb are (or where- I think they are sadly no more?) made up of session musicians who escaped the slavery of playing ‘down’ to other peoples requirements into the freedom of playing what they wanted to play.
The lead singer in particular has a voice that comes along once in a blue moon. She sounds like an overdriven guitar solo at times.
Here are some acoustic versions of some of their songs;
We took a trip up to Aberdeen yesterday to meet up with friends from Gairioch Church. As part of their planning/organisation, they have a bi-annual ‘sounding board’, where they invite some outsiders like us to come and be part of a conversation about where they are up to, where they are heading and to discuss challenges they are working through. Michaela and I always feel like frauds as what they have achieved is special, and the thought that we might have some expertise to offer seems to us a little silly- however, it all seems to come out in the conversation.
Yesterday a lot of conversation was caught up around the issue of leadership; particularly the kind of leadership that might be the best way to work with small groups of families and individuals engaged in what we have called ‘missional’ groups. It is an old theme for all of us involved in the essentially fragile practice of community. Some questions never quite go away;
How do we lead without becoming oppressive? How is power shared, or at least mitigated?
How do we lead in a way that does not create passivity and dependency on the part of those we journey with?
How do we lead in a way that creates safety, warmth and stability?
Who looks after whom?
How are specific responsibilities shared and encouraged?
Where does the buck stop?
Within my own community, these questions are still largely unanswered. We find temporary solutions only, which is a weakness but paradoxically also sometimes a strength.
My rough conclusions from conversation yesterday where that three things are vital in trying to deal with leadership in small groups; Context, purpose and developmental stage.
Context might mean the place where people meet, the nature of the group in terms of comfort with one another, experience of individuals within it etc. Leadership has to emerge from what the group is comfortable with. Our context is a small town in which most of our members have done with ‘religion’- we have been inoculated against the formality and rigidity of leadership structures, at least in part because of our own and others failure. Leadership for us had to be small. It had to be shared.
The purpose of small missional groups will of course have some variability. At times we work together on specific tasks- food banks, art installations, kids events, worship services, community projects. Some tasks clearly benefit from a leader, an organiser, an agitator. Someone needs to see the big picture and hold everyone else to account for delivering what they said they would deliver. This probably does not need to be the SAME person each time, as we all have different skills and experiences.
However, the starting point of most small missional groups is community. Our hope and conviction is that our activism will grow out of our connectedness, our common place of becoming. We are a constant experiment of turning an inside outside; of practising the art of love so we can learn to be deliberate in our love of others outside the group (an easy thing to write but an extremely difficult thing to achieve.) If this is the ultimate purpose of our group then leadership is probably much more akin to facilitation. The role of the leader is to create safe space for others to adventure in, not necessarily to direct what happens within it.
Interestingly enough, the skill set required to create (or curate) this safe space is not one that many of we pioneering far-horizon kind of folk find easy to operate within. Safety and predictability bores us. Our pushing at the edges frightens others. This tension is very real to any of us who have been in these groups. Currently I am sweating within mine as most people are content with what is but I am wanting more…
Which brings me to the issue of developmental stages. Groups like ours have a trajectory that typically involves something like this;
dreaming – gathering – planning – forming – conflict – reforming (repeat last two stages several times) – ending.
Leadership at different parts of the groups life may need to be very different. I think there is also a need for EXTERNAL leadership (or at least facilitation) at times to bring new perspectives and refreshment.
I have great hopes for Garioch church. They are a lovely bunch of folk who are asking all the right questions. The model of church – deliberately small enough to be around a table, but networked with bigger relationships – is one that really appeals to me.
If you are interested in this issue, you might be also find some use in a few previous ramblings on the subject;
Just back from hearing Kris Drever (part of the group Lau) in Dunoon’s Burgh Hall. Lovely stuff- a wide selection of old and new folk from up and down the UK, with sublime guitar.
this fragile tent 