Ananias and Sophira- help me with this someone!

Posted on by
1

So, what it this story all about?

In our little group, we have been doing a study on the Book of Acts, as part of an ongoing attempt to consider the place of Christians in post-Christian, post-modern Britain. (We are using ‘Exilio’, a study on the book ‘Exiles’ by Michael Frost- see here for more information.)

We have just spent some time chewing on this very difficult passage in Acts 6. Here is the story

The early church has begun in a blaze of Holy Spirit fire, and these early followers of Christ came together in beautiful communities, sharing and caring for one another, and giving us a glimpse of heaven.

Then Ananias and his wife Sophira, perhaps to gain influence or status, sell a piece of land, and present the money to the apostles for the communal good, or at least they present some of it- they keep back some for themselves, but pretend that they have given all.

Peter challenges first Ananias, who lies, then drops down dead. Then his wife turns up, and rather than consoling her, Peter asks her the same question, she lies too, and Peter has a few harsh words to say to her, before she too drops down dead.

And everyone was consumed with the fear of the Lord… Well, you would be wouldn’t you…

It is a story that I struggle with. Did God kill these people? If not, what did- an overwhelming sense of guilt? Peter? Was what they did so bad? Have you and I not done worse- and yet lived to feel the guilt, and perhaps seek the promised forgiveness?

The next story is about the squabbling over the handing out of food to the poor- and the need to appoint stewards to keep the hand-outs fair to all concerned. But there is no mention of any of the moaners or unfair dealers being cut down in judgment.

This is (I think) the only story of instant punishment of sinners in the New Testament. It seems like an old testament kind of story…

So why is this story in the Bible? What is God seeking to teach us as we read this? In our discussions we came up with a few possible answers-

  1. The God of the Old Testament is the same as the God of the new. We attempt to understand him as cuddly and predictable at our peril.
  2. The sin was to break the unity of the spirit in a time of when this was a beautiful reality. A sin against the spirit is the only unforgivable one.
  3. Sin cannot exist with such holiness as was known then.
  4. God did not kill them, nor Peter, rather they died from their own overwhelming conviction of sin.
  5. The story is incompatible with the wider story of God as revealed by Jesus, and should be read as allegory, pointing us to broad principles.
  6. The issue is how we read the Bible, and how we understand context…
  7. God is mystery. We will never understand or be able to conceptualise all that he is.
  8. The issue is about money, greed and the idolatry of possessions, and it’s destructive affect on community.

What do you think folks? Any thoughts gratefully accepted…

Blogged with the Flock Browser

Greed, Capitalism and Gordon Gekko…

Posted on by
3

I had an early start this morning- leaving the house at 7.30 am for a two hour drive. As ever, BBC radio 4 was my faithful companion on the road…

And of course, the morning news was full of the current world financial crisis, brought about by the so-called ‘credit crunch’ and the collapse of an American bank sending shock waves round the world’s stock markets.

We await to see whether the giant insurance firm AIG, responsible for trillions of dollars investments, will topple and fall over also.

We are finding out that when a butterfly flaps in the windows of a wall street office, then not even a post office account in sleepy Argyll is unaffected by the resultant tidal waves of monetary insecurity.

And no-one seems to have any clear idea of what happens next. It is almost as if the animal that we created now has a will of its own, and a malevolent will at that… The radio carried interviews of doom mongers, and other folk seeming to suggest that the worst was over, and we just needed to stop the panic, which was the cause of the whole thing in the first place.

And then there was this other discussion- about the nature of the capitalist system itself, and the greed at the heart of it all.

And we remember again the words uttered by the fictional stock broker Gordon Gekko in the 1987 film ‘Wall Street’ (played brilliantly by Michael Douglas)- Greed is good…

Gekko has become an iconic figure, acting as an archetypal capitalist, but in the process asking questions about the meaning and nature of a culture built on the pursuit of MORE, always MORE. Capitalism, and neo-liberal economics rule the economic roost at the moment, and no-one seems to be able to challenge the ideological truth of ‘trickle-down’ benefits of the creation of wealth, and the release of entrepreneurial aspiration, red in tooth and claw.

This morning, world renowned economists were asked whether they thought that this crisis had been brought about by greed. Both replied that they thought that it had. They thought that some greed was needed- but there had been too much!

They described how a long period (16 years) of economic growth had resulted in complacency and increased risk taking on the part of bankers, stock brokers and financiers. And how ‘rocket scientists’ (a euphemism for people who design ever more complicated financial products in order to seek out profit) have designed complicated financial processed that are not understood by most of the people whose companies are selling them.

Many of the huge profits generated by the banks have been made by selling and buying products with borrowed money. Sometimes, the borrowing ratio to the assets of banks can be 30-40-even 50 to 1. This is fine as long as there is lots of money sloshing around the system, but it only takes a few variables to change- interest rates, commodity and fuel prices, economic slow down, the rise of the Far East, etc etc, and suddenly, apparently impregnable banks are dreadfully exposed and vulnerable.

These are, after all, human institutions, made after our own image.

But we are made in the image of God are we not? And as a Christian, I find myself experiencing dissonance with any system that depends on greed and grasping as the engine of its very survival. Is there really no other way? Do I have to be complicit with this way of living?

I have a mortgage and a car loan from the Bank of Scotland. This bank has lost 40% of it’s share price in the last two days. Who knows what the future is for the BOS, and for my accounts?

But, is this the most pressing economic reality pressing in on our culture? Is Capitalism really working? Or is it serving only the narrow interests of people like me, who experience many of its benefits at the expense of those who do not?

Is the real economic crisis to be found in a world in which things like this are ever present;

So what on earth can be, or should be our response?

I am humbled again. Reminded that my storehouse is not on earth, but in heaven.

And that when I serve the least of these, I serve Jesus.

Power dressing and incarnational spirituality

Posted on by
2

Suits.

Stuffed suits. Pin striped suits. Business suits. Power suits. Penguin suits.

Corporate uniforms.

Boys together in gentleman’s clubs.

Power. Control.

Management by the application of… image.

Or do I make too much of this?

Tomorrow I am going to a meeting in Lochgilphead for Social Work and Health managers, which is to discuss some governance issues thrown up by a redesign of Mental Health services (get the language there- ‘governance’ and ‘redesign’.) I will not wear a suit. I reckon I will be in a minority of perhaps, one.

Informality of dress seems to be trendy in some quarters. It is strange to me that within my social work department, things have gone entirely the other way for managers at least. The women, perhaps surprisingly, seem to escape this pressure for the most part.

Another redesign process recently replaced whole swathes of managers. The new folk often do not live in Argyll- they have not chosen to live and contribute to the communities they serve. That is not criticism- but it is just different.

For people like me, who try to find a way to carry that salt and light thing into the places I inhabit, the suits just seem to get in the way…

They seem like a barrier- a way to create distance between people.

I find myself at odds with the world about me… and the visible sign of this comes in the form of a table surrounded by men in dark suits.

I can see the point of this at times- the management thing- distance is sometimes required. But for me, this non-suit wearing has become my little point of rebellion, owing much to a lack of comfort with the work culture of my organisation- which at times seems highly toxic.

It is also how I choose to express something of my individuality- and my spirituality. I may yet be instructed to suit up-

But for now, the only suit I will wear regularly…

Is my birthday suit.

Hymn singing, but not as we know it…

Posted on by
3

At Greenbelt Festival, there is a new tradition of hymn singing in the big beer tent.

I stayed away this year, as it becomes very crowded- and the volume of the singing has to be heard to be believed. On one occasion I was about a mile away over the other side of the festival fields, and you could hear the singing clearly above the sounds coming from the mega-amplified main stage.

Here is a clip that gives a flavour of the event. What you see is a hymn choosing process, then a few thousand folk singing ‘Lord the light of your love is shining’.

The beers and hymns event has been criticised by some. As you can see, for some, the beer is central to proceedings- and perhaps the idea of beer-fueled worship, cast alongside the instructions for ‘orderly worship’ by St Paul is a step too far.

But then, if you speak to people who were there, with tears in their eyes as they worshiped…

How this transfers to your town or congregation- who knows!

My talented neice @ the fringe…

Posted on by
Reply

I am very proud of my niece, who is part of Nottingham youth dance company. She is just about to start proper ballet school, so all the very best Elizabeth- my very favourite niece… ( I had to have a think then to make sure that she is my only niece!)

Lily and her company were dancing @ the Edinburgh Festival this year, and I have just been looking at some photos of them performing in the street.

I am no dancer. I am six and a half feet tall and almost as wide. People who can dance have a gift that is beyond my understanding, but through watching these talented young people, I am learning to appreciate the power of bodies moving to music- the ability to convey emotion, beauty, even truth.

The Bible too is full of references to dancing. Dancing as worship, dancing as celebration, dancing as a kind of childlike innocence, and dancing to ensnare and entrap.

Dance on then Lily. It will always be a joy to come and watch…

Angels

Posted on by
Reply

So what do we think about Angels then?

We have just embarked on a plan to set up a worship space on Dunoon pier using the premise of Michaelmas- the festival of Michael and all Angels ( 27th of September… 12 noon till 8. You would be welcome!)

This idea was floated by Kimberley, minister at our local Episcopal church, and fellow blogger, and we had a lovely creative round-table planning meeting a couple of evenings ago. For some reason Michaela had sprinkled the table with glitter to bring a little angel-dust sparkle to the proceedings- and as ever with glitter, it is now everywhere, and on everything…

For me, the creation of these happenings is where the real worship of God can happen- a small community who seek to place God at the centre of everything, and celebrate this together.

But, as a confession, I struggled with the idea a little at first. To set up worship spaces like the one seems to demand a theme that allows creative, even playful, engagement- and I struggled with Angels as a theme…

Angels- Christmas cards, and New Age nonsense… this was my starting point.

But, I soon found that a little persistence can be very fruitful.

Kimberley had a whole set of words and ideas about Angels, and I soon discovered that Angel literally means ‘gods messenger’. Other folks had paintings, and ideas about how we could use the space, and what ‘stations’ we could prepare, and we were off and running.

One of the ideas was to use postcards to encourage people to send their own messages. I used wordle to generate an image from Kimberley’s words, and ordered some postcards.

Here is the image;

The wonderful gift of empty days…

Posted on by
Reply

Today is Saturday.

And we have nothing planned.

No visitors are coming to stay (although I love having visitors.)

We have no major tasks at hand (although there is great fulfillment in a job well done.)

I am not on duty (and work can just go hang for a while…)

I do not have to worry about planning church stuff for tomorrow- after years and years of weekend church business, I now can enjoy the occasional sabbath…

Sure there are many things that I could/should be doing- gardening, cleaning, decorating, sorting out, planning for the upcoming Aoradh event. But I feel no pressure to do any of these things.

I may just so nothing…

And days like this, they are like sonnets. And they turn me all poetic.

Slow Saturday

Saturday morning
You and me
Stacked like school chairs
Racked together like delicious dishes in the dishwasher
Quilted by the wonderful possibility
Of an empty day

Me holding you
You wearing me
Like a film star in a fur coat

You told me that I had fallen back to sleep
And that you liked the sound of my snoring
And I curled closer

And the chatter of a blackbird outside our bedroom window
And the sound of slow diesel engines out on the estuary
The creak of boards as Will heads for an appointment with a pokemon
All these sounds of the approaching day
Are beautiful

Like you

So open up day
Like an Alpine picture window

I’ll put on the coffee

13.09.08

On being a stranger in a familiar place…

Posted on by
Reply

59133505.24thPad.jpg (JPEG Image, 800×530 pixels)

This morning I drove over to Colintraive and took the wee ferry onto the Isle of Bute, as I had a couple of meetings in Rothesay.

Bute is a lovely Island, and I have become quite familiar with it over the last few years, as I am responsible for some of the Mental Health services there. Today the son shone on the swans in the castle moat, and I shared a nice lunch with some colleagues in the Green Tree Cafe in the moat centre- highly recommended by the way, and recently visited by Prince Charles and Camilla (the local talk is of how the council painted only the sides of the building that could be seen by them as they arrived- but this being Bute, it may well just be a story…)

But I will always be a kind of visitor- a partial outsider to these communities that I live and work amongst. In Bute, this seems to be made worse by my arrival as a manager, with all the power and control issues that are associated with this. There is, however, a process of growing together- grafting…

It seems to come with shared stories, insider knowledge that sometimes tips over into gossip- particularly, it seems, in small Island communities, like Rothesay. Much of this seems negative at times- although only insiders can really be openly critical.

I hope that my role is to look for good things, and encourage them further…

Rothesay Castle

Rothesay Castle
Stormed at last by scaffolding
By men of mortar in yellow vests
Encircled by the advancing town
The old lady lies broken toothed
But well pointed.

Whilst within
In the shadow
Behind the big black bolts
The castle kitchens lie cold
Hygienic
And where once was roasted suckling pig
There is a man in tartan uniform
Eating his sandwiches
But with due reverence
He leaves no crumbs.

Meanwhile, out in the sunlight
A brilliant white swan circles in the moat
Beneath ornamental trees
Like me, both are aliens
Imports.

So I start to let this place become familiar
To finger into foreign soil
To paddle across defensive ditches
To borrow history and make it mine
And take my place in this
Permanent impermance

© Chris Goan
2.3.05

Blogged with the Flock Browser