I’ve moved…

Hey all. I’ve upgraded and moved to a new location where I will hopefully be able to post more content in the way of audio and video. Got some plans in that direction. It’s called ‘Unlearning’ which is also the tentative title of the book I’m finishing up. Check it out at unlearning.co.za and keep following along there. Let me know what you think of the new look.

Hint of Hope

I want to tell you the story of my car.

About a year back I lost my job with the church and was thrown into the challenging South African job market. I quickly found myself on the wrong end of affirmative action and unable to find a full time job, so I made, what I can retrospectively see was a rash decision. At the time I was paying off a new car which I bought in 2005. When I bought it it wasn’t a problem because I had a salary that meant I could keep up with the payments, but when I found myself without a job I knew this was a financial burden I wouldn’t be able to bare.

So I sold it.

I say it was rash because I didn’t think about how I would get another car. I assumed I would just go to the bank and get another loan for a smaller amount. I got quite a shock when I was told that I only qualified for up to a R10,000 personal loan, or over R40,000 vehicle loan. I couldn’t afford a decent car for R10,000 and just couldn’t commit to the vehicle loan, knowing that bank would slap their own R20,000 on top of the arrangement.

I was stuck.

How was I going to get a car?

How was I going to get around to find a job?

In the middle of sulking about all this I got a call from a friend of mine had attended the church I had just left. He said, “Sean, I heard about your predicament and I want to help. Go out and find the car you want and tell me how much it is. I will give you an interest free loan so you can purchase. I know you are in a difficult transition period at the moment so I’m not going to put a time limit on this loan either. You take as long as you need to pay it back. Just put in whatever you can manage each month until you find your feet.”

I was blown away by his generosity. I’m no mathematician, but I could only image the interest my friend was going to lose in helping me out this way. But he put no conditions on it, he just wanted to help.

So I went out and bought myself a car, and I’ve been paying it off bit by bit every month. But that’s only half the story.

This week I got to hang out with some dear friends who I have felt for ages are my ‘church community’. We’ve journeyed together for years now, supporting each other through our frustrations and questions, it’s just a shame we live in different cities. They happened to be in Cape Town, and so Sarah and I went wine tasting with them on a rare, sunny, May day. As we sat down one of them said to me, “Sean, we need to talk business. We have paid for your car. We want to be ‘church’ to you and so we’ve contact your friend who gave you the loan and told him we want to pay it in full! It’s done already. That’s the gospel bud. Deal with it.”

I couldn’t really work out what to say, so I just said ‘thank you’, obviously. Anything else seemed cheap. As we walked round the rest of the morning I just processed what had happened and felt so humbled that my friends, my community, would sacrifice so much just to help me out.

It really was gospel.

The church in Acts 2 did exactly the same kind of thing; they took care of each other. They gave to anyone as they had need, going so far as to pool all their collective resources to help each other out. This kind of ‘blurring of ownership’ must have been a huge sacrifice, especially to those with much. But it seems they did it gladly, because it was the gospel.

Now I’m not suggesting for a minute that money has anything to do with the gospel. The fact that a few gracious people chose to help me out financially isn’t really the point at all. The point is they made sacrifices. These friends saw me in need and chose to give up something in order to make my life better.

Forgive a cliched point, but it’s Truth as far as I can tell. This is ‘Jesus’ isn’t it. This is the good news He brought. He gave everything up in order to improve our existence. He sacrificed, we benefited. If we are followers of Jesus way then we have to live life in the same pattern.

This is the gospel we get to be a part of: continuing what Jesus began by giving up what we have, to make the lives of others better; giving up our time to heal society; giving up our resources to mend injustice; giving up our creativity to restore the world. Selfishness is going to be the enemy of this kind of gospel, but ironically it seems everyone wins when we live like this. If you’re the giver in the equation you feel the joy of being without, so that someone else can get something they need. If you’re the receiver you feel the humility of accepting the help you couldn’t give yourself, and being grateful that there is a God who is trying to put everything back together. It’s all gospel. It’s all good.

Church has to be the place where we live like this; where we are ‘gospel’ to each other and the world at large. It’s like catching a scent on the wind, hearing a sound for a split second, seeing something out of the corner of your eye; it’s just a whiff of the better reality God is working to bring us to.

It’s a hint of hope.

Now I’m just looking for ways to pass it on.

Hats Off!

In a couple of weeks I am flying up to Natal to do a ‘preaching residency’ for the whole of June. It basically means I will speak at 2 services every Sunday for the four weeks I’m there, as well as hanging out at the cell groups and some youth meetings; I suppose the same stuff most pastors do in their average weeks. The church in question asked me to come and fill in a bit because they have just lost their senior pastor and they don’t really have a pool of speakers to draw from, as often happens when you are over-protective of your pulpit and you don’t develop new preachers from your community.

When I got the call I was excited by the idea of being able to preach again; something I love doing, but this initial excitement was tempered by worry. I realised that if I made my way up there and spoke in the services someone from the congregation would inevitably google my name and this blog would appear. Then I would have to deal with the drama that would doubtless ensue, and like I’ve said before, I’m allergic to stonings! I made the decision that I didn’t want to go if it was going to be a hassle.

So, with resignation, I told them I would think about it, but that I had one condition: their leadership would have to read this blog and decide whether, in light of the content, they still wanted me to come. I made no apologies and told them this is the stuff I’m working through, but I understood if they foresaw this material becoming an issue if it came to light while I was there.

I put the phone down expecting this to be the last I would hear of the matter. I was sure that after a conservative leadership team, in a mainline denomination, read through these thoughts they would want nothing more to do with me.

So you can imagine my surprise when I got the following email:

“The Exec were very happy to have me invite you to come and join us for the month of June.

We would like you to:

Preach both morning and evenings. Visit Home Ministry Groups [HMG] most take place on a Wed night. Ladies groups meet in the mornings. Speak to our Teens on a Friday night. Meet with the staff at our weekly staff meetings and give some input on what you believe to be relevant issues. Attend the Thursday prayer meeting. Be available to the congregation should they want to engage you on anything. Otherwise take time to reflect ,read and write, and enjoy the area and it’s environs. Drink good coffee and meet the people…

Sean more will come but I just want you to know I am looking forward to you spending the month with us and trust that you will find the time rewarding and refreshing.

Love ( ).”

Did you catch that little gem in middle? “Meet with the staff at our weekly staff meetings and give some input on what you believe to be relevant issues.” That came as a surprise.

I cannot tell you how encouraged I am by this church’s courage. In a world where the reformation denominations are battening down the hatches against any form of change, this one read this blog and decided that not only did they still want me to come through, but they wanted to use me in a broader capacity than originally discussed.

I have felt so much despondency over the last year thinking that all this frustration and ranting is just so much hot air; that this blog, and ultimately this book I’m writing, will never change anything because no one will ever have the courage to listen if there is any risk they may have to change. But in one email my faith is restored that things can shift, and maybe churches are getting to the place where they are willing to be ruthlessly honest and make some brave choices.

Now I’m not about to go in there and cause trouble, I don’t want to abuse the platform I’ve been given, but I’m definitely going to use the opportunity as wisely and effectively as I can to talk about some of this stuff. I’ll keep you posted, and if I remember to record the messages I’ll post them online.

Hats off to brave church!

Proud Tree Hugger

A couple of weeks ago I watched ‘The Cove’, which won Best Documentary at the Oscars. It follows the efforts of Richard O’Barry to release every captive dolphin around the world back into the oceans. He has been arrested countless time for his guerilla tactics, but this only seems to spur him on. If you are familiar with the 70’s TV show “Flipper” he was the guy who trained the dolphins who played the role and, as such, he blames himself for the popularity of the ‘Sea World’s’ and other aquariums and dolphinariums around the globe. He tells the heart wrenching story of how one of the Flipper dolphins literally committed suicide in his arms because of her inability to cope with the confines of captivity. He tells the camera at one point, “don’t be fooled by a dolphin’s smile, it doesn’t mean they’re happy. They are meant to be free, and they know it.”

This particular documentary takes place in Taiji, Japan, where something a little more sinister is going on. Local fisherman are driving pods of dolphins into a small inlet by banging poles submerged into the water off the sides of their boats. Because the dolphins are very sensitive to sound they flee the cacophony from this wall of fishing vessels and are soon stuck in this inlet, where they are netted in till the next morning. When the sun rises again there are representatives from all the big dolphinariums who come and take their pick of animals to be used in their shows. Only four or five of the hundred or so dolphins are selected and when the buying is over the remaining 95 or so are driven around the corner of the inlet into a secret cove where they are slaughtered with spears until their blood turns the whole bay red.

This small group of 25 fisherman are responsible for the deaths of 25,000 dolphins every year. The reason they kill them and don’t just let them go is because they can make some money selling the meat to the supermarkets. Unfortunately, dolphin meat is poisonous to humans because it contains dangerous levels of mercury. No problem, they just package the meat under different labels and no one is the wiser, until they wind up in hospital. The local government even fed this stuff to school children for their lunches, seemingly unconcerned with the consequences.

In the documentary Richard O’Barry sets himself the task of overcoming the significant security to film what actually happens in that cove in order to shock the rest of the world into action. It makes for a tense and harrowing watch.

I went home and jumped on the internet to see what had been done since the film was made almost two years ago and was saddened to find it’s still happening. Petitions have been signed and the world is more aware, but this group of fishermen are still slaughtering dolphins by the thousands. The obvious question is who is going to change this; who is going to fix it?

It’s a crime, but lets be honest it’s probably not going to be the church. The sad truth is that most churches don’t have time for these kind of issues. They are seen as liberal, ‘tree hugging’ issues which we ignore because ‘we’re too busy trying to get people saved’. Our church buildings get ever-more elaborate and our weeks fill to capacity with meetings and gatherings and we stick our fingers in our ears when it comes to this stuff because, “Greenpeace can take care of it”.

When Al Gore’s “Inconvenient Truth” came out a few years ago I showed it to the young adults at the church I worked at and the overwhelming response I got was confusion. “Why would he waste a church meeting showing us this stuff? What does this have to do with God and being a Christian?”

Everything!

Their response made me mad. It’s not their fault, it’s just that they have been given such one-sided teaching their whole life they were never told what the bible says about the natural world.

The problem today, at least in evangelical churches, is our theology. As McLaren puts it, ‘We have an Evacuation Theology’. It says, “that our purpose in church is to bring as many people in as possible and then just ride it out until we leave and everything is smashed”. When you have this view of things it’s easy to see why the environment isn’t on the agenda for most churches. What’s the point in caring for a doomed planet?

But I believe we have made Jesus idea of salvation way too small. I think when He turned and told the people watching His walk/stumble to the cross and said, “Behold, I make ALL things new,” I think He meant just that. ALL things. Unfortunately we have narrowed it right down to mean something a lot smaller which seems to let us off the hook with a bunch of things which God still cares about and wants us to be involved in redeeming.

But whatever your Soteriology/Eschatology happens to be God seems pretty clear about our role as human beings: to be warders of the planet who care for it with everything we do. So at what point in history did the church abdicate it’s role as the defender of the planet? These aren’t issues for someone else to deal with. They are ours. I believe God’s salvation is all-encompassing, so instead of just trying to work on ‘more catchy wording for our evangelistic tracts’, why don’t we get involved in renewing the whole world, including the natural order?

So let me speak for the ‘tree huggers’ and say that this stuff IS our job as church. God does care, so we should too. Scripture seems pretty clear about our role, and when society habitually chooses profits over quality of life, or life at all in some cases, we should be the first in line to cry foul! Environmental issues are things we should be involved in, and not as an after thought to our huge services and programs within the four walls of our institutions, but on the front lines with the tree huggers!

If that’s a liberal view point, then I’m a proud liberal.

Do yourself a favour and go watch that documentary, if you can find it. I hope it raises the same questions for you.

Guest Blogger #4

This week a friend of mine is posting. He has asked to remain anonymous, I think more out of a love of intrigue than any worry about the content. I think he has some interesting points so please leave him your comments and I will forward them along and make sure to post his responses:

“I’m increasingly coming to believe that to be a white English Christian in South Africa at this time in history is to be engaged with the question of the complicity of the white English-speaking church with the status quo during the Apartheid years. In other words, that our Christianity is only viable if it is informed by our context, and part of the work that God is calling this demographic to is to grapple with the dissonance between our theology and our context. Why did we sing, “Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world” on Sunday, and participate in an evil system the rest of the week, without that being a problem for most of the church? Why did we preach a Gospel of “Repent of your sins and follow Jesus” while not telling those who set up Apartheid partly on Biblical grounds that we would not stand for that?

While putting this sort of thinking to a few people, I’ve received a common objection (and the more “Biblical” the Christian, the more vehement the objection). It goes like this:

“What’s all this talk about context? Sure, you raise some important questions, but Jesus is the same yesterday, today and forever. The world doesn’t need more humble hand-wringing by Christians, it needs the Gospel! The Gospel remains as true in any context as, say, 2 + 2 = 4, which it does always, in every context, everywhere, all the time. Trying to say 2 + 2 doesn’t not equal 4 because of some naughty stuff that 1 did before 2 came around is silly and irrelevant, and detracts from the work which God has given us. Preach the Gospel, and stop worrying about the past – God will take care of that.”

Do you feel like this? That what I’m talking about is detracting from the work which God has given us? Or maybe, that it’s some kind of intellectual masturbation which may make us feel better, but ultimately confuses us and does God no good? After all, no amount of arguing is going to change the fact that 2 + 2 = 4 so let’s get on with telling the world about that truth.

My response is this: one of the wonderful things about visiting other countries and cultures is that they show us what assumptions we take for granted in our own culture. Things like personal space, how loud we talk, how much silence is comfortable in a group, what clothes we wear, if we introduce ourselves first when walking into a room or if we wait to be introduced, whether we talk to strangers or not, how much we tip (if at all), if we publicly say we disagree with our superior when they’re in the same room – a different culture may treat any or all of these in a completely different way. We can either say, “They’re wrong!” or we ask ourselves what we can learn. This is something that cross-cultural mission takes very seriously, for communicating in a different culture is not just about language, it’s also about the difference in culture which informs the language, because communication is not just verbal. Good cross-cultural training helps us to become aware of the invisibility of our pre-suppositions, the things we accepts as “normal”, so that we can better communicate (and be communicated with).

So it may come as a great relief (or as a worrying truth) to know that 2 + 2 does not always equal 4. Sometimes it does, and sometimes it doesn’t. The answer to the question, “What does 2 plus 2 equal?” depends upon which system you are working in. If it’s Euclidean geometry, 2 + 2 = 4. If it’s non-Euclidean, the answer is something else. Of course, since most of the time most of us work in Euclidean geometry, we may not even be aware that there are other geometric systems out there and think that our system is the only one around and everyone else who disagrees with our answers is wrong. If we are to agree on the answer to 2 + 2, we must be aware of our own presuppositions and the presuppositions of the other person before we can get to the work of finding out the answer.

I’m very interested in anything which helps me become aware aware of my own presuppositions – those invisible filters which tell me “This is how the world is”. I’m interested in models which give me tools to help people from different presuppositional systems communicate with each other (Neal Stephenson’s “Anathem” is a fictional exploration of how people who don’t share any culture or language similarities can communicate using Mathematics as their starting point). I believe that it’s an utter failure of flexibility and communication if one group of people say, “It doesn’t matter what presuppositions those other people are using, we have the TRUTH and they must listen to us.” This is the logical equivalent of an American who is in a foreign non-American-speaking country who when asking for a glass of water from locals who don’t understand him, shouts louder (footnote: this is also the logical equivalent of colonialism, of the adventure of taking the light into the darkness of Africa, so that the African savage may become civilized). Yes, shouting louder is one option when communication isn’t understood, but it gets us nowhere, makes the American very frustrated, and shows him as an arrogant fool to the locals (particularly when this situation happens thousands of times).

Fact: the culture Christianity finds itself in is rapidly changing, so much so that Christianity is becoming like a foreign visitor to this culture. Let’s talk about what other options we have to communicate with and understand the locals, because shouting doesn’t help anyone. Christianity should not act like an arrogant fool. It should not be like the American who expects everyone else to speak his language. It should not expect people to (somehow, magically) share its own presuppositions. Instead, it should do the hard work of becoming humble, of listening before speaking, of seeking first to understand and then to be understood. This stance, instead of detracting from the work that God is doing in the world, participates in what God is doing in the church. For the Church to hear what God is saying, it must go and listen to those outside of it.”

The Loyal Dissident

I had a comment on this blog a few weeks ago which got me thinking. The comment was:

“Seriously, instead of talking/bitching about the shortcomings of the institution (of which there are obviously many, but that’s not the point) why not find a place that’s already doing something about it and tag along for the ride. I can think of a couple places in Cape Town that already doing just what you say the church never does. Open your eyes to the practical solutions that are out there instead of just talking about it constantly. You’ve spent a f***ing long time complaining about stuff, now just get off your ass and find someone who’s doing some good stuff and get behind it.”

I hear what this guy is saying about being a practical part of the solution, and I agree. But what is this irrational fearing of criticism?

I’ve been sick for the past couple of weeks with flu so most days have found me curled up under a sleeping bag on my couch amidst a sea of used tissues. Fortunately I was armed with the complete fourth season of Boston Legal to distract me from the fact that my head was pounding and I couldn’t breath.

I’m a huge fan of Boston Legal. I think it’s one of the best written shows on TV.

If you’ve seen the show you’ll know the whole thing pivots on the relationship between Denny Crane and Alan Shore. Denny Crane is a gun toting, right wing conservative who follows his country without questioning anything. He is patriotic to a fault. His friend Alan Shore is a dissident, always more than ready to challenge the system and fight the impossible fight, and I would argue that he is also patriotic to a fault.

Denny will criticize Alan for, ‘questioning America, especially in a time of war.’

Alan will invariably retort that ‘questioning your country is often the most patriotic thing you can do.’

Denny points out that he loves America and wouldn’t change a thing.

Alan points out that he loves America too much to allow it to be less than it should be.

The brilliance of this plot device is that it allows the writers of the show to explore the issues America is dealing with as a society through these two polar opposites. Most episodes see these two men come to loggerheads over some issue where Denny represents the views of the conservative right and Alan represents the challenge of the liberal left.

But the poignance of the whole series is that at the end of each day they retire to the balcony and share a cigar together as friends, safe in the knowledge that, despite their differences, they actually do want the same thing; for America to be the best it can be.

Watching this dynamic played out I couldn’t help but see the obvious parallel this has with the church. There is an ever-rising tide of dissidents like me out there who refuse to just go to church and shut up. We know there should be more. We can see the gaping holes in the way we move about in the world, and we won’t shut up about it. Not because we hate church, quite the opposite. Like Alan we will receive criticism, we will be labelled ‘disloyal heretics’, but we won’t keep quiet because we believe that, ‘questioning things is actually the most loyal thing we can do.’

Alan also points out in the series that America was born from questioning the institution and, ultimately, open rebellion. The founding fathers were the ultimate dissidents. Similarly, we shouldn’t forget our own history; it’s littered with those who questioned.

The prophets challenged the priests and kings when they were off the map.

Jesus challenged the religious leaders because their heavy religion was keeping people from God.

The desert fathers challenged the bishops of their day for making the wrong things important.

They retreated to caves in the desert to practice simple spirituality again.

The pacifists challenged the Crusaders when they went off to slaughter thousands of Muslim for God.

The reformers challenged the Papacy when it was creating ever more colourful ways to control the populace and extract money from them.

Church history is refreshed regularly by these prophetic voices who aren’t shy to point out the often gaping holes. It seems that if we have the health of the church in mind we are duty bound to regularly ask ourselves the tough questions.

Now I know that the institutional church hates criticism, because it’s manned by the conservatives: ie. those who have given themselves the work of conserving and keeping things the same, and it’s seen as disloyal to the idea of church, even disloyal to God to question the status quo. At best this a very narrow minded view which ignores the context of our history, and at worst it’s brain washing. And it’s nothing new: Freud, in his day, said, “the church trains it’s young people to only ask the questions it can answer”. Well perhaps it’s time we looked at the ones we’re not prepared to answer out of a genuine desire to be better church.

I am also aware that there is a terrible fear of negativism in South African culture, like criticizing something is the worst social offense. I have lost friends because I’ve insisted on being the one who asks the questions. We don’t like people who ‘complain’ about the things we love to the point where we will often write them off before we even hear what they have to say. But the prophets moaned, the reformers moaned, the pacifists moaned, even Jesus moaned. Would we have ignored them if they came around today? I believe so. I believe we do. All because it’s not cool to complain. It’s disloyal and ugly.

I don’t believe we will fix the problems in our churches until we acknowledge that there are problems, and saying, “Of course there are Sean, we’re human beings”, and then carrying on the same way, doesn’t count! If we know we have problems, if we know we are off the map then we have to map the sacrifices and get back on track. But it starts with listening to the dissidents and not just writing them off. They could be more than ‘the negative idiot in your midst’, they could be the prophet in your town.

To be honest this comment stayed with me because I have one chapter to go in this book I’m writing, and I’m nervous. I know much of this stuff is ‘criticism’, but I do feel like it’s because I care. Why on earth would I write it otherwise? The insecure part of me is scared of being written off by the fearful conservatives but the true part of me can do no other. I have to add my voice and hope it gets heard and makes some kind of difference.

I feel like Alan Shore standing in a court room trying to convince the judge that we can do better, and then having to convince his friend at the end of the day that he still loves the thing he questions, in fact that’s why he has to do it. I suppose my sincere hope is that even if you don’t agree with me, which is fine, that we could still be civil to one another and perhaps share a cigar every now and again and agree that we want the same thing: the church to be effective again.

Impromptu Church

A Web Designer, a big shot Marketing Manager, and a Priest, are all sitting on a roof together drinking beers. No it’s not the beginning of a bad joke, it was my Thursday night. These guys are all my buddies and they happened to be in Cape Town last week. The Web Designer and I already live here. The Priest was in town to organize his visa to go overseas for a holiday, and the Marketing Manager was shooting a commercial in and around our beautiful city. We all go way back and so we decided to head out for supper that evening to the ‘Royale Eatery’ and catch up.

We enjoyed a supper of over sized burgers with exotic toppings; a particular specialty of the establishment. As we ate we found out about family developments, job stresses, recent joys and sorrows, and plans for the future. Feeling rather bloated after our meal, but not yet ready to call it a night, we headed upstairs to ‘The Waiting Room’. It’s a cool little bar which you can only reach from a retractable steel staircase on the main street. Once up there you find yourself in three cramped rooms each set at odd angles to the others and connected by a series of passageways and narrow staircases of the kind you’d find in a JK Rowling book. It is part of its charm, but we decided instead to head for the deck on the roof, away from the noise and squash.

The Web Developer

Once we had drinks in hand we found a couple of benches and settled in for a chat with the noise of the street below and the shadow of Table Mountain looming over us.

At one point, in a gap in the conversation, my Marketing Manager friend says, “I have a question guys. Where are you at in your spirituality, your thinking about life and God?” He actually asked a much better question but I can’t remember the wording.

The answers to this went on for quite some time because we all seemed to have a lot to say. Some of us were in better places than others. Some of us were blossoming it seemed as we tried to better connect with God, while others of us felt as if there were a wall in the way, or just a distinct absence of anything more. The beauty of it was the vulnerability and honesty with which we spoke, and the ways in which we were able to support each other and push each other on.

As good as all this was, I knew my Marketing friend had to be up the next morning for a big commercial shoot and so I stopped the conversation at one point and said that maybe we should wrap it up and get to bed. He was the one who turned around and said, “Don’t you move. This is church man!”

The Marketing Manager

And he was so right.

Church is the people you can speak to about this stuff. They may be in your church, but I think often they aren’t. I know when I used to work in the church these conversations never really happened in earnest with people from my church but rather with a select group of friends who I had journeyed with for longer periods of time; people who knew me. At one point in the conversation one of the guys even said, “I wish I could speak with this kind of honesty in my church, but I just can’t. It would scare the crap out of most people.” But if this isn’t what church is really for; carrying each other through life and pushing each other towards God, then it seems to be little but a show.

We didn’t do any specifically ‘churchy’ things.

We didn’t sing songs together. We could have. We are all musicians and love our music so making sweet music and pointing it at God would have been a pleasure, but we didn’t need it to have church; to ‘be church’.

The Priest... believe it or not:)

Did one of us preach? No. We all did really, and we all have a pet hatred for cliché-soaked ‘christianeze’ and so we stumbled through our explanations about how we are wrestling with God and continuing on the journey to form some kind of honest spirituality. But the irony for me was that there was more content and depth than ten sermons preached in most churches I have attended.

Did we have communion? No. Not specifically, but we did share a meal and grow relationship around a table. You’ve heard me say it here before; that I think eating meals together is a big element missing in our communities and from our communion in particular.

There was no expectation of the way things should happen either, or how long things should last. Consequently we were there until the wee hours of the morning, not really wanting this thing to end, because it nourished us and energized us.

So, impromptu church is now my favourite kind of church. I’m on the lookout for it: those opportunities to connect with mates, share our wounds, and push each other towards God. Because I’m not ‘attending church’ in a ‘church building’ at the mo; these impromptu church gatherings sustain me like nothing else can. Come to think of it, even when I was a pastor working in a church these moments where church just happened would be the memories I held on to while formal services, with their predictable liturgies, often blurred into one another.

Obviously these little gatherings can’t provide everything, but for now they are oases in the desert which I steel myself to reach.

Guest Blogger #2

Hey all. My friend Jacques is writing this week. He is a good mate of mine from Seminary days. I’ve always really respected his persistent search for truth. He also comments regularly on this blog, so those of you who have been following for a while will have read some of his stuff already. Jacques, his wife Nicki, and their two little boys are currently living in Korea teaching English. Please leave some comments as I’m sure Jacques will get back to you. If you want to get in touch with him personally let me know and I will hook you up with an email address. Here he is:

Holding On – Letting Go

I recently did a little online quiz to help me determine where I place in the grand scheme of religion (I know! let’s leave it up to internet quizzes to determine the most important issue ever). This may seem a little weird to most of you but the truth is that I haven’t been whole-heartedly committed to any single Christian body for most of the 10 years that I’ve been a committed follower of Jesus. This hasn’t been out of lack of desire to join a Christian community but rather due to an inability to decide exactly what I believe about Christianity.

My top-ten results were as follows:

1.    Orthodox Quaker (100%)
2.    Seventh Day Adventist (97%)
3.    Eastern Orthodox (96%)
4.    Roman Catholic (96%)
5.    Mainline to Conservative Christian/Protestant (90%)
6.    Hinduism (86%)
7.    Mainline to Liberal Christian Protestants (81%)
8.    Liberal Quakers (63%)
9.    Sikhism (57%)
10.   Unitarian Universalism (55%)

Now what I find interesting is that I didn’t even know what a Quaker was until after I took the test and while I’ve always considered myself to be basically mainline protestant before anything else the test didn’t think so.

I’ve come to the conclusion recently that being part of a specific Christian body is about what you hold onto and what you are willing to let go of. All of the groups in that list hold onto certain beliefs about God, religion and spiritual practice and let go of others.

The Quakers are willing to let go of almost everything except the light of Jesus within them (which at times I’m also willing to do), which is why I rate so high on the Quaker scale. In this regard I think Quakers have a lot in common with Emergent Christians like Brian McLaren and is probably why I usually enjoy emergent church content and conversation.

The Adventists are basically Evangelical Protestants who feel we shouldn’t have let go of quite so much of our Jewish heritage (things like the Sabbath, 10 commandments and kosher laws) something I’ve also seriously wrestled with over the years. I’ve explored the Sacred Name Movement and Messianic Christianity and can fully get where these people are coming from (and back it up with scripture too). In the final analysis though I think their focus on externals led me to let go of their interpretations.

The Orthodox and Catholics are the historical Church, now you either believe these two bodies corrupted early Christianity or you believe they are the direct outcome of early Christianity. What you hold onto in that regard will either make you a part of one of them or a Protestant. As a supposed Protestant I find it extremely difficult to actually answer that question. At heart I’m a mystic and these two bodies are the fountain-head of Christian mysticism. Protestants generally rejected the mysticism of the early church, but mystical Christianity is a major part of Catholicism and the live-blood of Orthodoxy. While I still struggle significantly with certain Roman Catholic ideas about Mary, the Pope and Purgatory, I don’t struggle at all with Orthodox theology and actually prefer it over most Protestant interpretations. My biggest struggle with Orthodoxy is over liturgical practice rather than Theology. This leaves me asking whether it is the Orthodox understanding of Christianity that God is asking me to hold onto.

Apparently I’m only slightly more Protestant than I am Hindu and therefore I don’t think it is really fair to continue to hold onto that label in reference to my beliefs. I’m pretty sure it’s only their rejection of Christ as God that placed them 4% lower on the scale. Not a very significant difference in degrees given the hugely significant implications of holding onto that belief – One that I’m not willing to let go of!

I think in the end my biggest struggle is between the weight of the historical tradition and my postmodern relativity. I mean either I’m a Quaker (or an emergent) who believes that just about everything goes as long as I’m following the internal guide of Christ/The Holy Spirit or I’m an Orthodox Christian with a massive amount of established church tradition, dogma and praxis. The truth is that these two options are on completely opposite ends of the scale and yet they are both equally attractive and seem reasonable true depending on how I look at it. Whenever I lean too far to either side the distance of the other pole makes me question whether I can let go of it in order to embrace one or the other. What I do know though is that being stuck in the middle simply leaves me drifting rudderless on the open sea and I’m growing really tired of this aimless journey with no destination in sight.

Lord, please show me where you want me to hold on and where you want me to let go and if anyone reading this feels the same way please give us all the grace to find you in the plethora of options called Christianity!

Much Love in the Lord Jesus
Jacques

The Good Guys

I know I said I wasn’t going to blog for a bit, but I had some thoughts I wanted to share.

I watched the new Cormac McCartney movie this week. It’s called ‘The Road’ and I was really affected by it. Somehow they managed to put ‘human beings’ up on the screen with astounding clarity, and even though it was a thoroughly bleak and depressing watch for much of the duration, it affirmed the human spirit in a way few movies do.

The basic premise, without giving anything away, is that there has been some kind of global catastrophe which has wiped out all animals and trees. All that’s left are a handful of human beings wandering the landscape as it buckles and moans with earthquakes, fires, storms and the relentless cold. As the earth is breathing it’s last, the story follows one man and his son making their way towards the coast. It seems pretty clear all along that there will be no help for them there either, but the father has chosen to give them a goal to work towards so they have some kind of purpose; some reason to keep going.

As with all the best stories, human beings are thrown into the bleakest of circumstances to see how they react, and so show us what we’re really made of. In ‘The Road’ they have polarized into two types; those who’ve resorted to cannibalism because of a lack of food, and those who live on the run from these roving bands.

There is a beautiful scene in the movie where, huddled under a ruined bridge, we see the father telling the son stories of justice, sacrifice, and heroism to remind him of what human beings should strive for. In the midst of all this chaos he tells the boy that they are the ‘good guys’, but the world is full of ‘bad guys’ and he has to be careful. The boy takes this to heart, but he always seems concerned that perhaps he and his father are becoming ‘bad guys’ with some of the decisions they have to make to stay alive. For example, should they share what little food they have with a struggling old man, or should they leave him to die to ensure their stores last a little longer? What would the ‘good guys’ do?

Surely they would help, reach out, care for, love?

What is the difference between the ‘good guys’ and the ‘bad guys’? Perhaps we haven’t polarized into ‘cannibals’ and ‘those who chose to help others’, but in our interactions we know the difference between a good person and a bad one. We don’t like to talk about it for fear of sounding judgmental, but we will happily say, after just meeting someone, that ‘he is a good guy’, or ‘she seems like a great person’, so the inverse must be true as well.

I get it all the time while waiting tables. You get all different types of people coming in to eat and you can quickly tell whether you are going to enjoy serving them, or whether you are going to be praying for them to leave in a hurry, and it’s often down to something far more fundamental than them having ‘a bad day’; they just aren’t nice people.

So how do we all know the difference? I thinks it’s a vital question for those of who actually want to be ‘good’ human beings, and I think the answer is painfully simple.

‘Bad guys’ are their own center.

‘Good guys’ care about things outside themselves.

And I think it all comes down to how we deal with ‘our wound’.

As one of my Seminary lecturers used to say; “We all have this wound.” We’re born with it in fact, but people tear it open more and more with destructive words and deeds. The choice we are left with is how to deal with this ‘wound’. Will we protect it by wrapping it in more and more bandages, fending off the outside world and holding people at a distance in case they hurt us more? Or will we have the courage to air it, and let it heal?

I remember this same lecturer at Seminary reading one of my particularly ‘ranty’ assignments and calling me in to have a chat about it. He told me afterwards that there was a lot of anger in there and he felt I had to ‘Grieve Humanity’. Processing this phrase I realised he was talking about coming to terms with the human condition. “I’m not perfect, I’m just muddling my way through life often just, hoping someone doesn’t tear that wound even wider.” And the comforting truth is; so is everyone else. They are as wary of me as I am of them. We’re all in the same boat. It’s really difficult to be defensive and aggressive towards everyone else when really we’re all dealing with exactly the same wounds. Just understanding this releases you from a lot.

So I believe that the way we deal with this wound, and whether or not we acknowledge everyone else’s, determines what kind of person we will be. Will we hurt others to protect ourselves, or will we help them? Will we be self-centered or others-centered?

The best definition of ‘sin’ I ever read was by a German Theologian named Reinhold Niebuhr. He said that ‘sin’ is ‘selfishness’. It’s choosing ourselves. It’s hurting someone else to protect our wound. It’s choosing to become a ‘murderous cannibal’ so you have food to eat, instead of banding together to sacrificially help each other along the journey. Think of the things you really consider sin and try and find one which doesn’t come from a desire to put yourself first while hurting someone else.

Murder.

Adultery.

Theft.

Cheap sex.

Deceit.

Gossip and Slander.

Pride and Hubris.

All of them come from a desire to help yourself while hurting someone else.

Again, our infantile definition of sin doesn’t help. We have this warped idea in our churches that the ‘good guys’ are the ones who don’t do the things on the ‘naughty list’.

That’s rubbish!

There are plenty of people who speak perfect ‘Christianeze’ and impress all the church goers with their piety and self discipline, but they are just toxic, destructive people leaving hurt and pain in their wake because they haven’t dealt with their own wounds. They just do it with their own brand of condescension and judgementalism, because it helps them to feel better about themselves whilst hurting the person standing in front of them. This stuff is no less sin. I think it’s what angered Jesus so much when he interacted with the Pharisees, and they just couldn’t see what He was talking about. It has nothing to do with the list of ‘naughty things’ we do or don’t do. It has to do with how we interact with the rest of humanity.

Don’t believe me? From what I can see Jesus did. His resounding message was not a list of ‘naughty things’ to avoid, but it was to ‘love God’, and ‘love others’. Simple as that. Everything seems to fall into place from there. Jesus didn’t protect Himself from us, but reached out for us in ways which cost him everything, showing us how to be fully and properly human.

Check out the stories we tell. Hero’s are always people who care about others more than themselves. They are the ‘good guys’. Those we hold up as heros in our culture are those who lived for others, or even who died for others.

So question is: “Will I protect myself from you or reach out to you?”

You shouldn’t need to protect yourself from me, because I should be taking care of you. Imagine a world where that was always true. Sounds heavenly:)

I think the journey to becoming fully human is a journey away from yourself as the center, to putting your center in God and others. I was chatting to someone the other day commenting on how it seems we become more of what we already are as we get older. We polarize. By the time people hit old age it is even easier to see which they have chosen. Are they protecting the wound and not dealing with it, still bitterly fighting off the rest of the world? Or are they peaceful and secure individuals who have acknowledged their own wounds but given their time and energy to loving others? There doesn’t seem to be much in between at that life stage, so I thinks it’s important to choose which road we are setting off on now.

I walked out of ‘The Road’ sad because I felt like we are doomed to always be the kind of species who ‘hurts’ more often than ‘helps’. But it also affirmed for me that Jesus message is more vital, more relevant than ever.

Love God.

Love others.

Period.

Calling for Guest Bloggers

I’m pretty close to finishing the book I’ve been writing; just a few chapters away, and I really need to put my head down and focus on finishing. For those of you who’ve been following here that means I will be writing less posts for the next  little while.

I wouldn’t want this to die out though, so I was hoping you could help. Please send me your own posts with stories of where you find yourself with God, church and the world at the mo. It doesn’t have to make sense. My posts rarely did:) It just has to be your honest struggling. I think what we all need at the moment is some saftey in numbers and just to know we’re not completely mental.

So if you’re up for the challenge please email me your stuff at seantucker@mweb.co.za. I would obviously be happy to post them anonymously.

Peace.