A Decade of Mission - Some Starting Points

My speaking debut at General Synod/Te Hinota Whanui was pretty much a non-event. It was the kind of motion - calling for a Decade of Mission - that nobody was very excited about, but equally, nobody could be seen to vote against! Synod was focussed very much on the same-sex issues, and worked incredibly hard to find a way forward which would keep us together.

My perspective is that if we don't make a significant, passionate, creative, energetic, faith-filled intentional response to the Decade of Mission, then by 2015 there will be little left to hold together. Yes, good things are happening here and there, but the overall picture for the Anglican Church in Aotearoa New Zealand is decidedly gloomy, whatever gloss our excellent communications team put on the situation. And I am a compulsive optimist.

So I will step out and make my suggestions for four starting points for this Decade of Mission.

1. We need a clear understanding of the Gospel. The definition of Anglican Mission as "doing something nice for someone and hoping they guess why" simply will not do. The Gospel has never been, is not, and never can be about what I or you do; it must be about what Jesus has done. We do not have a self-help Gospel - that is no good news at all; our Gospel contains an offer of a whole new life which we can accept and live out together. This new life comes exclusively from the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, without which we have nothing, absolutely nothing to offer to a needy world.   

2. A clear focus on discipleship. I have publicly stated a number of times that the greatest challenge facing the church in NZ is not evangelism, but discipleship. We have taught that discipleship is about knowledge and understanding, when in fact it is about obedience. Disobedience to God is sin.To not fulfil the Great Commission - to go and make disciples - is sin. There is no discipleship without obedience - not a slavish, fear-filled obedience, but rather an obedience which is feely offered as a joyful response to the ridiculous love, grace, mercy, purpose and abundant life which we have each received.

3. A genuine embracing of every member ministry and every member responsibility. As was stated from the one of the elected members of synod, if we do not each commit to the Decade of Mission ourselves, then voting in favour of the motion is meaningless and hypocritical. (Well, he kind of said that!) Mission is not an option for those 'who like that kind of thing' while the majority look on  (and in ten years time look back and say "I knew it would not make any difference.") The need is for all of God's people to be fully engaged in God's mission, at home, among their neighbours, in the workplace, and college and school and yes, even in church.

4. We must do some things very, very differently. As someone said, "If we keep doing what we've always done, we'll keep getting what we've always got." The message remains the same, the means of communicating changes. We continue to gather, but what happens when we come together changes. We remain committed to justice and social action, but we learn to lead the way, not meekly follow. This calls for courageous leadership - not just leaders who give permission and keep their distance, but leaders who walk alongside and constantly affirm those risk-takers and ground-breakers among us.

Church Army New Zealand is committed to doing all we can to make this happen. Will you join us, and how can we best serve you?

Liturgy - the good and the bad

Liturgy has been described as " A prescribed form or set of forms for public religious worship", but often is understood as being the written down bits that we join in with! Having been brought up in the relatively liturgy-free zone of the Methodist Church in UK, it was a shock to start my training with the Church Army and be confronted with a daily dose of the ASB (Alternative service Book). 

Attending a service yesterday brought home to me why I both struggle with liturgy, and also rejoice in it! My biggest gripe is that it can be used thoughtlessly, and this was superbly illustrated when an extra letter 't' appeared on the page to create a sentence reading "...whether tour tomorrows be filled with good or ill...", with the majority of the congregation reading this out thoughtlessly, including the 't'which made the sentence meaningless! 

But let me hastily add some balance...the service took place in a Diocese which would self-identify as being considerably more theologically liberal than I am (not difficult), so I loved the bold liturgical statements in the Great Thanksgiving..."You sent your son to give his life, to release us from our sin, His cross has taken our guilt away...We your people remember your Son. We thank you for his cross and rising again..." and much more! Certain, unequivocal truth joyfully asserted.

Don't say it too loudly, but maybe I'm reasonably Anglican after all!

Brave New World

Our table at church yesterday contained people whose Mother tongues were Mandarin, Cantonese, German, Japanese, Korean and English - out of 9, two were Kiwis! That is the reality of life in Auckland, a reality we ignore at our peril. We will soon be a majority/minority city - where the majority of people come from minority groups.

It provides us with an enormous opportunity of course - as people settling in a new country and culture often have a genuine openness to new ideas, and to exploring the local religion - perceived in NZ as being Christianity. Forget overseas mission, we can fulfil the Great Commission in our own communities!

But we need to practice two things. The first is that we need to go! Our local community contains an Islamic Centre, a massive Hindu Temple, a Sikh temple, a Tibetan Buddhist centre...and probably many more! But to the majority of people in Avondale, these buildings are as irrelevant as local churches - if we are waiting for people to come knocking on our (usually locked) doors, we may as well give up now.

Monika helps at an ESOL (English for Speakers of Other Languages) class, and in order to recruit some new members they went out door-knocking! They met plenty of interested people, so hosted an end of term meal, to which 6 new people came. Last week the new term started, 6 new people came to the established ESOL class, and 17 new people came to the beginners class! My assumption is that on any given day,there will be people in my community hungry to meet with God - I just need to go and find them.

The second thing we need to practice is simplicity, or KISS (Keep It Simple, Stupid!). Read the Gospels - for every great discourse Jesus told many stories. This is not an anti-intellectual argument, but there is a time and a place...I have intentionally focussed on expressing myself in fairly basic language when I speak, but sometimes it seems preachers try to impress with their extensive vocabulary and beautifully crafted sermons, and forget that the aim of speaking is to effectively communicate to minds and hearts. For ESOL folk, and to be honest, for many Kiwis who only speak English, a simple communication of the Gospel works best.

Go...and be simple. Most of us can manage that!

#ChristiansBeingSaltandLight

I am writing from a New Zealand perspective, but I am pretty sure that what I say will apply to other "Western" nations also.

I have been extremely saddened to see the way that religion, and Christianity in particular, has been heavily criticised, ridiculed and written off as way past its sell-by date in the national press. Social media has been largely the same - I have rarely seen such an aggressive and consistent display of bigotry and hatred directed to those who sincerely seek to follow Jesus as best they can - ironic really, as the usual accusation is that we are the hate filled bigots when it comes to homosexuals!

So how do we respond - defensively, by withdrawing back into our (Church) shells?  Do we go on the attack and seek to re-impose our Christian values on a largely secular nation? How does Jesus want to us to engage with the people around us?

Well here's my proposal - we need to love them into the Kingdom. We need to be salt and light, as Jesus said we would be - not arsenic and wet blankets! We need to live out love-filled lives, and then shout about the reason we do so - not because we are "good people", but because being followers of Jesus compels us to do so.

It is a great discipline, at the end of each day, to ask - what have I done today to bless my neighbours as a result of being a follower of Jesus? In doing so, we are not saying we are better than anybody else - but we are better people, and the world is a better place, because we have Jesus in our lives.

To take it further - the world needs to hear the practical ways in which our faith informs and transforms our daily lives. So if you are involved with social media - facebook or twitter, then I challenge you to publicly complete this sentence each day - "today, because I am a follower of Jesus, I..."

Imagine facebook and twitter being swamped day after day with Christians being salt and light - living it and showing it. If you understand hastags - how about #ChristiansBeingSaltandLight

A lie from the pit of hell

Okay, it isn't that bad, but I needed to grab your attention!

We were due to train a group in door-knocking yesterday, then take them out, but one by one they dropped off, so we postponed the training. One lady turned up unexpectedly, so we chatted with her for a while, hearing of her enthusiasm but also her fading confidence. "We need to earn the right to witness" she explained.

I've heard this so many times before. It is borne out of people's experience apparently, but when pressed very few can remember when they last caused offence by talking about Jesus - because we just don't do it any more. So it has become a mantra which justifies our decision to conveniently avoid something we find uncomfortable.

I disagree both for pragmatic and theological reasons. Yesterday we went out for a good walk, and on our way home collected a hitch-hiker, and took him to the train station. We chatted about job, family, holiday weekends, and Jesus. Yes, Jesus. The topic slipped easily and naturally into our conversation, and as he said he had never heard an explanation of why Jesus came, died, and rose again, we told him. Then the conversation carried on, easily and naturally. He was not in the least embarrassed, offended or upset that we touched on our faith. He responded in kind, telling us what he believed and how it shaped his life. This has been our experience time and time again this year. Not once have we been told to earn the right before speaking of Jesus.

Now the theological bit. I have been uneasy for a while with a model of evangelism which relies on me - either to live such an outstanding life that people ask me questions which lead to a conversation about Jesus, or to carry out acts of selfless kindness which somehow earn me the right to share my faith. I find it hard to see this in the Bible. Indeed, my conclusion today is that Jesus earned the right when he died on the cross. He earned the right for every man, woman and child on this planet to have the good news communicated effectively in ways they can understand and respond to. And this will nearly always involve words.

I will go further, and say that Christians have no right to NOT talk about Jesus. There are numerous commands in the New Testament that we should tell others of Jesus, live in such a way as to demonstrate kingdom life, and help others do the same. I see no suggestions that we should wait for the right moment, speak only when spoken to, or ever deny another person the opportunity to hear about, experience and understand God's incredible love.

"You must earn the right to witness." Not quite a lie from the pit of hell, but...

Southland reflections part one

My Southland journey began with a non-eventful flight from Auckland to Dunedin, enlivened only by a group of  energetic slightly rowdy Maori youngsters, and I could not help pondering what great gospel ambassadors they would make.

Not everyone feels this way, but I love Dunedin. The city exudes a gentle confidence in itself, and its Christians reflect this. I am sometimes intimidated by my fellow followers of Jesus who seemingly possess an absolute assurance, radiate an effervescent spirituality and enjoy daily intimacy with the Creator and Sustainer of the universe – but Dunedin folk are not like that.

I am greeted at the airport by a good friend, a man of intense faith, whose generosity of spirit and humble servanthood prove a challenge to my complacent arrogance on every visit. He lends me his car each time, joyfully. I arrive at my home for one night to be greeted with the news that the man of the house is in hospital recovering from an operation – I had deliberately not been told beforehand. Such selfless kindness.

I spend an hour with Bishop Kelvin – my favourite bishop to chat to. He wears the purple well; and is a man who knows and loves God deeply and well but feels no need to display his holiness, a man of deep thought and gentle wisdom. In another time and place Kelvin would undoubtedly be guiding and leading a diocese into growth, but this is 2012 and Dunedin diocese has massive struggles. The diocese feels as though it doesn’t quite know how it ended up in this place – and Kelvin perhaps reflects this! It has the air of the family member who is always looked down upon and kept at a distance, though such thoughts are never expressed of course. I think it has at times been used as a political football, seen as relatively easy prey for those wishing to push through their own agenda, rather than considering the good of the Diocese, or the Kingdom of God.

 Financial meltdown and declining numbers mean that change is absolutely inevitable. Some sing “change and decay in all around I see” as if the two need to belong together, but Kelvin sees hope beyond the pain, and God beyond the decline. He reminded me of St Aidan, who wandered the highways and byways, chatting with people wherever he met them, and telling them of Jesus, until one day most of Northumbria was following the way of Jesus. That is my commission as I wander Southland for the next 8 days.

I head next to St Clair, my favourite Dunedin location – glorious beach, massive waves, wild walks. I am thrilled to see what looks like a large seal further along the beach – the first one I’ve seen this close up.  It harrumphs just a couple of feet forwards, with immense effort, then seems to collapse. It stopped breathing and died, just a few yards away from me. Beautiful and awe-inspiring moments ago, it is now a mere carcass, terrible, rotting, decomposing, though not yet visibly.

As I understand it, seals have no spirit, so that is it. Nothing more. I was instantly reminded of a funeral I attended recently, taken by a secular celebrant. We lit candles, though not as a religious act we were reassured. We prayed, finally, that Betty’s “spirit may be at peace in the next realm.” But other than that vague, hollow, empty expression of hope there was nothing. Full stop. The end. How I appreciated the wonderful sense of eternity the Christian faith offers, though Jesus who is himself the resurrection and the life.

I headed away, saddened, and as the tide continued to advance up the beach I decided to return via the pathway which overlooks the beach. I wasn’t sure where it was, or how to reach it, but I knew it was there. I clambered up the dunes, three steps up, then two sliding back down. I reached a wooded area, where tracks came and went, and at times I had to make my own, frequently having to turn back and retrace my steps, before striking out again in largely the same direction! What a superb metaphor for this Diocese. The path which rises above the current troubles is surely there, laid by God, and we know more or less where that path lies. But we are unsure just how we get there. The question then, is who will have the courage to trample and tread new paths, embracing both success and failure along the way, meeting obstacles and frustration with renewed determination to press on? For surely we cannot stay where we are, the tide is coming in, and staying here is simply not an option.

Why we do what we do

I guess there are two main reasons we do things - to prevent bad things from happening, or to make something good happen. Which motivates us may depend on whether we are optimists or pessimists.

A key aspect of T4T gatherings is Vision Casting - a reminder of why we do what we do, and of what God can do in and through us. Because I am a natural optimist, I attempt to cast vision by inspiring faith in others, telling encouraging stories, reminding them of God's promises...if we are obedient, God will do great things. But every now and again something happens that causes me to cast vision by urging people on because of what will happen if we don't obey the Great Commission.

We met Betty one day while door-knocking. She had ongoing contact with the Jehovah's Witnesses, but was always friendly on our frequent visits. She was not in the best of health, so standing was not something she could do for long, and even sitting became uncomfortable. She felt was "winding down her life", so we assured her God had a purpose for however many days she had left on earth. She allowed us to explain the Christian Gospel to her, and we spent time looking at Bible verses regarding "assurance."

Last week Betty wasn't in the three times when we called, and we found out yesterday that she was in a hospice. We tracked her down, and went to visit this afternoon, only to be told that Betty died this morning.

I am relieved that Betty heard the Gospel explained to her so she could understand and respond. Betty would not have walked into any local church, nor would me living a holy life have somehow communicated to her the fact that like all of us, she needs a Saviour, or the importance of Jesus' death and resurrection, or His readiness to embrace, welcome and save her.

Sometimes words are absolutely essential.

So who will you tell?