Ruby milestone, Mission net

Ensconced in the summer house, at home In Scotland on a fine April morning.. Brother’s family also up for the week from sunny Lymington. Iona, now four, has recruited me to bedtime story duty; and first time to see young Rose at six months. So a family affair.
The pretext: parents’ ruby (40th) wedding anniversary yesterday. A certain Kaiser Chiefs song has been running through my head. Also struck by the variety of high class cards designed specifically for this occasion, and that somehow all the senders had managed to select a different one. Well done everybody.

Mission Net, Germany: the once every three years or so European youth missions conference, held this time in Oldenburg, Lower Saxony. I was recruited from the HCJB UK office, along with one of our missionaries in Ecuador, to join German brothers Marco and Stefan to staff an exhibition stand for HCJB, in an exhibition jungle. HCJB’s slick new banner design features a yellow sofa with big black arrow pointing up from it, to the slogan ‘Be the voice and hands of Jesus’. A fellow exhibitor’s first impression was of an Ikea advert; not quite the clarion call to save the perishing we were after then. Back to the drawing board? Or maybe just a bit of tweaking.

Marco and Stefan, a priceless double act, relentlessly cheerful, both tech wizards, great fun.
A closer reflection of the spiritual impact of this event will have to wait, for now it’s just broad impressions: world mission dynamo George Verwer with his ‘world atlas jacket’ and giant inflatable globe. Spanish mime supremo Carlos Martinez, speaking an international language. Brilliant translators. Crowds. Worship. Buzz. Sourkraut. (actually, not that one). More to follow…

Barden Fell

Saturday, a group of us went for a hike on Barden Fell, near Skipton. Mix of sun and cloud produced some beautiful light effects. High stone bridge over broad shallow river, the kind where you could imagine a fly fisher’s line creating calligraphy in the air. Great noble ridges bathed in milky light. Dry slender leafless trees caught by rays through cloud. A landscape of wild rugged romance; ‘God’s own country’, the land of Wuthering Heights. That said, it was also baltically cold at the top.
Its hills and views are also a key part of Bradford’s charm, especially the descent from Wrose. A city full of panoramas of stone terraces and blackened wool mill chimneys.
Saturday night at HTI (Holy Trinity Idle), the ‘100 days’ celebration of the arrival of new vicar Robin Gamble. Bradford born and bred, a natural evangelist who set aside 100 days to listen - to God, the church, and the community. Seeking to strike a balance between cherishing the church’s history and each member of the congregation, and moving forward into a bold new future. The vision for the coming year, to be a beautiful community of people, free of power politics, who truly love each other. How does that sound?

Final answer?

Draft radio script based on 'Who wants to be a millionaire?', for a Yorkshire FM station, hopefully for Good Friday... 'Millionaire?' type tense music bed to go underneath.

CT (Chris Tarrant): Welcome back to the show, where Derek is already sitting on a big prize… Del, you know what’s at stake here. You ready for the final question?

D: Ready Chris.

CT: Let’s take a look.

CT: What’s going to be the NUMBER ONE goal in your life? Will it be: A – a fabulous body? B – a happy family? C - to get stinking rich ? Or D - friendship with God?

Del: Crikey.

CT: That’s one way of putting it. (audience titters).

D: Well, let’s go through them.

CT: Take your time.

D: The body‘s certainly tempting. Envy of my friends. Women falling at my feet.

CT: Now Derek, I’m sure that’s happening already. (audience titter)

Del: I wish.. But then, I’d give a lot for my family to be really happy.

CT: Wouldn’t we all.

D: ‘Get stinking rich‘... Lot to be said for that too. Not having to worry about the future. Keeping up with the Jones’s .

CT: Not to be sniffed at. Specially in these times.

D: Yeah.

CT: So I take it you’re ruling out friendship with God?

Del: Tricky one isn’t it? I suppose considering He’s the one running the show, it couldn’t be a bad thing.

CT: Can’t see him though can you? Money, good body, those are things you can see and touch.

D: Yeah… But a great body’s not going to stay that way is it? And money can buy you stuff, but can it make you happy?

CT: This is getting a bit deep for a quiz show (titter). Ok Del, but happy family, your nearest and dearest. Surely that’s gotta be number one.

D: I dunno. I’m just thinking about, you know, Jesus on the cross, how much he put on the line for me. I’ve just got a feeling that if you’re friends with God, that might take care of the other things too.

CT: Sounds like a gamble to me. It’s your decision Del.

D: Think I’m gonna go for it Chris. Yep. D Friendship with God.

CT: Final answer?

D: Final answer.

CT: We’re gonna take a break, be back shortly. (audience groans)

(Out music)

The turning world

Foothills of the French Pyrenees, late December. Early morning, sun’s radiant ball peeks shyly over world’s horizon to kiss the earth hello. Gentle curve of cornfield, chill, dun-coloured, dormant, imperceptibly transfigured to golden hue by breath of warm life. My shadow forms from thin air, tall field sentinel.

Midday. Southern European latitude. Sun higher in the sky. Noon light heavy, flat, oppressive... Then towards day’s farewell, shadows lengthen, colours deepen, landscape is reclothed with intrigue, enticement. Distant rose-tipped peaks kiss the eye and awaken longing. Lilac cut-out mountain chain: outline of peak against sky, stark and jagged, a fairytale battlement, a playground for the children of giants.

Tea time, and a scene change, imperceptible and huge, on nature’s stage. Garish loud sun has sunk to slumber. Night: sleight of hand, thick, black, felt. Safe, daytime rhythms and murmurings cease… a vast hush. Chill cavern of darkness pricks nocturnal denizens to twitchy, saucer-eyed alertness. A fox‘s screechy bark. Owl‘s ghost call, warm, wise. From another world, preternatural, comforting: an echoing tunnel of ‘o’s, smoke rings of sound.

Stars. Beauty unimpeded by urban glare. Churning, boiling, nuclear engines hurtling through space; but to the human eye, winking, beckoning friends. Their array familiar and unchanging, across aeons. Mythic constellations, vast epistles delicately suspended. Eye rests, mind expands and contemplates. Earth, this sapphire gem, this wilting greenhouse: a speck of cosmic dust spinning in vast immensities. What ineffable power, what deep wisdom, holds together these two universes, starry vault and human mind, in this communion of awe?

Off the naughty step

I'm on a bit of a roll with these radio thoughts, so may as well make the most of it.
(And I have still been reading those comments, including today one from Rob about 'allowing yourself to be drawn limitlessly into a fuller and more wholesome approach to yourself and others' through 'the ethics of Jesus'. Nice.)
So, to that radio thought, with Jackson Five's 'Want you back' as music bed:

Someone showed up recently who’d been missing for months... Think floppy hair, flash ties, endless line of celebrity guests...? That’s right: Mr Jonathan Woss. Like him or loathe him, he creates a buzz doesn’t he? And let’s be honest, Friday night telly WAS starting to get a bit dull.

And then out of the blue, he actually said sorry. Three months earlier he’d made a prank phone call that offended half the country. Now here he was, welcomed back with cheers and applause, just by eating a bit of humble pie. I nearly dropped my horlicks. (And my pie.)

Now let’s face it, Mr Ross isn’t the first person ever to mess up. (I nearly strangled the cat yesterday, before I’d even got out of bed). It made me think though, what ELSE do I do that upsets people? And more to the point, GOD? Quite a lot actually. Which makes me rather glad there’s some good news too. That if I say sorry and mean it, then I get a warm welcome back. From the Lord God Almighty no less. Wow. It’s enough to make me want to go on TV and tell everyone about it.

Your neighbour needs you

Still catching up with comments, but meanwhile, another radio thought that hopefully taps into what's being bantered about over the water cooler. Music bed: 'Gonna make you a star', David Essex.:

Now there’s one question that’s been keeping us all awake at night the past few weeks. Well, me and my flatmates anyway. That’s right: who’s going to win ‘Your country needs you’ and take Britain to Eurovision? And if you‘ve been watching the show you’ll know there’ve been a few other pressing questions too. Like, how many teenage girls will swoon over Mark this week? And have Jade’s legs actually stopped growing?

It’s been edge of your seat stuff watching them all face the public vote as well. You can see it written on their faces: ‘Will I make it? Does my country need me?’ The funny thing is, this is the kind of question we ALL ask ourselves from time to time. Does anyone need or want me? And you might be surprised to hear that the answer is, yeah. You see, in God’s scheme of things you don’t have to be able to sing like a nightingale to have a job to do, a role to fill - and probably one that no-one else could do half as well as you. Even if it’s simply cooking a nice dish or helping someone who needs it. So go on, be the star you were always meant to be. I can’t speak for your country. But God wants you, and your neighbour needs you. So what are you waiting for?

And this marks, finally, my 100th post. Do you get a telegram from the Queen?

Obama Superhero

A radio thought (with crowd noise and star spangled banner added) for The Full Breakfast show on Pulse 2 in Bradford this Sunday morning, a few times between 730 and 10am. Also available for member download on Audiopot, the UK's online library of Christian audio.

Now unless you’ve been living under a stone or practising to be a hermit, you’ll know that something rather momentous has happened across the pond (and I don’t mean the one in your garden with carp in it). I’m talking of course about Barack Obama becoming head honcho of the United States. It’s all created a bit of a stir hasn’t it? (more than when we got a new president for the local darts club anyway). In fact, the last time I saw this amount of expectation surrounding one man, he was running out of a phone box in a red cape wearing his pants on the outside. Leader of the free world, for goodness sake. Imagine waking up on a Monday morning and suddenly remembering THAT was your day job.
Obama’s got a lot going for him. He’s also got problems waiting in his in tray that would make most of us reach for the valium. It's encouraging that he’s a man of faith, and that he sets such store on that little word HOPE. Hope is bigger than optimism, carrying on despite setbacks. It’s got a stronger foundation. But actually, there’s only one man who’s ever lived who CAN carry the hopes of the whole world. Jesus didn’t have laser vision or the keys to the White House. He showed that powerlessness, and a cross, were what’s needed to REALLY get things sorted.

Parris revisited

I should clarify why the Matthew Parris article impressed me. Jonathan mentioned DR had 'crowed' about this article and I didn't mean to give that impression myself. I don't think, oh here's the promise of a scalp for the Christians! I find this you/us, your gang/our gang thinking that is sometimes conveyed - and I'm not referring to J there - fairly fruitless. It doesn't take a degree in human nature to know that any kind of 'who's winning the argument?' approach tends just to make people defensive and hardened in their own stance.

What impressed me was this: a person being ready to acknowledge and humble enough to express a reality - not mere argument - that posed a challenge to his world view. And one of the most powerful realities there is: the profound observable - note, those of you keen on observable evidence - change that sincere personal Christian faith has wrought in the life and character of the Africans MP witnessed. The open-ness, the boldness, the freedom from former bonds - including that of abject fear of men in a tribal culture.

It's evidence of the raw spiritual power of the faith at work, in a continent riven by brutal conflict and dark forces. The reality and presence of the living Christ bringing peace, wholeness, sanity and love to people 'with all kinds of hang-ups'. A world away from the intellectual chess playing of constructing arguments against the existence of God in comfortable western sitting rooms (my apologies if you're an atheist reading this in your bedroom). Isn't it slightly odd that these should be the effects of a 'delusion'? If you're not grappling with the awesome weight of the power of religion in people's lives across the globe, including in cultures very different from our own such as MP observes here, then it strikes me you're missing a trick somewhere along the way.

And before I close, who's been watching Christianity: a History, C4 Sun nights 7pm, and Around the world in 80 faiths, BBC2 Fri nights 9pm? Both pretty interesting and informative.

An atheist reflects

This is superb: an intelligent atheist writer honestly expressing the unsettling effect on his worldview from witnessing real Christianity at work in people's lives in a context where it can be really seen to make a difference. I've read quite a lot of Matthew Parris before. An example of honest profound reflection that I can really respect. See what you think.

From The Times, December 27, 2008:

'As an atheist, I truly believe Africa needs God'
Missionaries, not aid money, are the solution to Africa's biggest problem - the crushing passivity of the people's mindset.

A radical goodness

A couple of points from comments made on the last post have got me thinking. First, Rob saying that there are good and bad people in both the atheist and Christian/religious camps. There is of course a bridge-building value to this point: it's always good to critically reflect on your own viewpoint and those in your own camp, and look for the good in 'the other'. But the thought opens up a huge issue, which Jimmy touched on in acknowledging himself a sinner in the sight of God. What is the path to true goodness? Here the radical, searching 'joints and marrow, soul and spirit' nature of the Christian message kicks in. If you can handle the concept of seraphim, Isaiah 6:1-7 is worth a look on this score: the record of an experience of holiness and power that forced a man to exclaim 'Woe is me, for I am lost'.

Let's not be coy here, if Christianity doesn't have something distinctive to say about what it means to be good, and a source of power to produce deep radical goodness, then what's the point of being a Christian? But we (that's not meant to be royal by the way) believe it does - that an encounter with the divine can make a person aware of how oriented they are towards self. This challenges me; eg a good definition of true gentleness is 'power under control', but 'gentleness' may also be self-protection in disguise. In how many other ways can 'virtue' be a cloak for self-seeking?

This is one of the things that draws me about Cnity: that it searches and lays bare, strips away the illusions we can entertain about ourselves. We talk about being decent and moral, but scripture uncovers our state in light of the divine majesty, : 'All your righteous acts are as filthy rags'. Not a moral code, but a path through self-recognition to transformation.

God on a cross, weak to be strong, the first shall be last: the Christian ethic is counter-intuitive, turns things on their head, constantly surprises. This is part of its magnetism 'for those who have ears to hear'.

I'll get to the latter comments... think I've seen the muslim programme before Rob, I'll check it out. Heading south for the winter; well, weekend. To Devon.