Sea & Islands Post 23

What if Reconciliation is Bigger than we Think?

Much of this proposes that we challenge the usual markers and descriptors of church; and here I do mean challenge rather than automatically remove them.

Evangelicalism handed to me a view of two distinct tribes that were separated by either an acknowledgement of, or an ascribing of, redemption. Some were 'saved', and by implication 'in' the church (for some groups read 'in our church') and some were not saved and therefore not 'in' the church. There was some small allowance for the journey of discovery towards redemption, but the picture was that of two groups.

In this environment there was a tendency to approach the Bible systematically; verses were assigned their place in the theological compendium that affirmed our doctrine. Whole groups of disparate verses were lumped together to form what appeared to be a definitive belief system that was not easily challenged.

In actuality, the Bible was not written in this way, but the certainty with which doctrine was preached in my own particular church background did not allow for further enquiry without the possibility of being labelled as a heretic.

Take for example, the use of Hebrews 9:20 to say that there is no such thing as post-mortem salvation:

'And just as it is appointed for mortals to die once, and after that the judgment.'

Evangelicals have consistently used this to suggest that the moment of salvation can only take place in this lifetime. The verse does not specifically say this. The context of the surrounding verses are not directed at this issue. The only way that this can be categorically used as a proof text is when offered in conjunction with other verses in the Bible. Here is an excellent example of a systematic approach delivering a doctrinal position in a way that makes it seem that there is not another possible way of viewing this subject.

Now evangelicals may well be correct in asserting that salvation is only available in this lifetime and after death no further choices will be offered to human beings. As it happens I don't share that view, but my point here is that the systematic approach does not generally allow for further discussion. Infact, I would suggest that it ties belief up in such a way as to exclude doubt about basic doctrine.

This takes me to the nature of reconciliation. I have heard this preached on many times, but it is striking to me that the breadth of the reconciliation being worked out in Christ is seldom covered.

Read 2 Corinthians 5:14-21:

'For the love of Christ urges us on, because we are convinced that one has died for all; therefore all have died. And he died for all, so that those who live might live no longer for themselves, but for him who died and was raised for them. From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view; even though we once knew Christ from a human point of view, we know him no longer in that way. So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us. So we are ambassadors for Christ, since God is making his appeal through us; we entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.'

Now, if you will, read it again and let the words wash over you.

I am not going to suggest that I completely understand what is taking place here. The context seems to be Paul commending himself and his theology to the local group in order that his words might be accepted. In verse 10 below, we see a much ignored verse where Paul talks as if judgement is more than whether we have put our faith in Christ, although of course, this is significant too.

'For all of us must appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each may receive recompense for what has been done in the body, whether good or evil.'

It seems there will be a day of reckoning and our actions are significant factors. Be this as it may, Paul goes on to suggest that there are two groups involved:

1) Those who have been 'given....the ministry of reconciliation', and

2) Those who 'in Christ God was reconciling ....... to himself, not counting their trespasses against them'

I feel that this is somewhat mind-blowing! In the evangelicalism I was handed, the two distinct groups of people were those who were 'saved' and those who were 'not saved'. However, in 2 Corinthians the two groups are actually those who are being 'reconciled' and, seemingly a subset of the first group, those who have been 'entrusted with the ministry of reconciliation'.

This gives the gospel such a greater sense of Good News. If you are from an evangelical background be honest with yourself and consider whether this has ever been truly explained to you.

Now we start to see how our theology dictates whether we develop church as a lifeboat or as a city on a hill. When some are saved and some are lost the church sees its role as being collectors of drowning souls or as Brian McLaren (50) puts it, the church has got involved in an 'evacuation plan for the next world' rather than looking for God's will to be done here as it is in heaven.

When we get gripped by the message of 2 Corinthians 5 we start to see that the difference is more likely to be that we in the church have found out that reconciliation has taken place whereas others have either never heard or are indifferent to the idea.

Now I don't say this to suggest that I am necessarily a universalist but to say that the work of God in Christ is bigger than most evangelicals have perhaps considered. In this economy it must surely still be possible to refuse the reconciliation offered but whether this offer is limited to this lifetime or not is surely open to question.

What if, when its all been said and done, God surprises us like he did to Jonah and has mercy upon all of his creation.

Whatever conclusion one might come to, it seems clear that the role of the church must be different from the one we have been handed. In this construct rather than being the confrontational defender of a belief system, we are the announcers and enactors of reconciliation.

Reconciliation has already been made effective; our job is to live it out for others to see

Sea & Islands Post 22

An Oblique Approach to the Vision

I have suggested above the danger of churches and their leaders being too heavily focussed upon a distinct vision. It is not that a vision is of no importance but that the weight placed upon its achievement can become all consuming.'

When a leader thinks about the success of church they will look to measure it numerically as the most obvious marker. As John Kay (48) suggests I think it would be healthier, and more productive, to look for a more oblique model; perhaps trying to identify some marginal gains along the way.

As highlighted above a heavy focus upon numerical growth means that it is all too easy to judge and value people against the mark of their usefulness to the vision. It is highly likely that growth in numbers, if achieved, will have an interesting subtext. A church could grow to five hundred people over a period of time. At a surface level the statistic looks good. If, however, further investigation reveals that in order to do that the church has had to attract one thousand people to become members this would mean that fifty percent of those who become attendees will have left.

Of course, people will undoubtedly leave during the lifetime of a church, however, it is important to consider whether the commoditisation of people in the process of achieving the vision has contributed to them leaving.

As a comparison, if one were to take the same church, and change the focus to be more holistic, would that produce a church that was smaller but that does not have the same fall out of people hurt by the vision?

Obliquity, or Marginal Gains, suggest that concentration upon the less obvious aspects leads to a better outcome.

If profit is a key performance indicator in industry, then numerical growth might be an equivalent in a church context. If John Kay is correct to suggest that the most successful companies are those in which 'the' main driver is not profit then perhaps numerical growth as a goal is equally dysfunctional in a church.

Kay suggests that when greed becomes the goal many companies are ruined by the very culture that is produced: essentially staff come to believe that greed is a positive attribute.

Could it be that when the church culture honours the vision of the leadership above the stories of the individual's, staff and volunteers find it easier to treat others in the group as commodities? If a company can make good profits by focusing primarily on making good quality equipment, or offering first class service, then could a church see growth as being the result of making people feel valuable within the community of faith?

However, this is only the starting point. Taking Kay's idea as a useful tool I believe that the church should always go further than the best standard. This is perhaps a good marker of what it means to be prophetic: offering a reminder of what it might look like if the God who values human beings so highly were present in the worshipping community.

Perhaps this is what 'leaving the ninety-nine' (49) might truly mean: even when we find a useful model like that of obliquity or marginal gains we are always willing to leave all in order to find the one who is lost.

Leaders are not called to build big churches; they are called to die to themselves

Sea & Islands Post 18

Rootedness

I have attempted to describe the oblique journey as having an irreducible core of belief that is rooted in both the biblical narratives and the testimony of the historic church. In one sense, because this is a highly personal process it has to be contextualised. Even churches that suggest that they take the Bible literally, employ convenient contextualisation when it suits them.

In practice however, and because our faith is intended to be of a corporate nature, we will always need to offer explanation, so that others can learn from our journey and, in return, we can learn from them.

The central component of this irreducible core is the person, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. I would locate this centrality in a Trinitarian understanding of the story.

There are, of course, other elements to this core but this is not important for what I am attempting to describe here at this moment. What matters here most is that we begin a journey to discover our own irreducible core in which we might become rooted.

It seems to me that churches, that develop too wide a core at this point, risk including ideas that limit the possibility of discussion within the group and with other churches; for example ideas about eschatology and ecclesiology are often held with an unhealthy reverence. This core should be focused upon both orthodoxy and orthopraxy because our faith is dead without works.

I mentioned earlier that I started my church journey in a denomination that had expressed their core as twenty-four doctrinal statements known as Fundamental Truths. To be fair, they weren’t much fun and they were usually decided by men!

In practice, judgements of orthodoxy at an individual level were more a question of behaviour than belief. Unless someone openly questioned these beliefs, they could remain in the church so long as it looked as if they were living within the perceived norms.

Over time the list was reduced and renamed as a Statement of Faith because the senior leaders realised that the original list was potentially a block to unity with others.

The need to describe a central set of beliefs and practices is both understandable and necessary. We just need to do so with care.

I would encourage you to discover an irreducible core within which you can find your rootedness.

The revelation of God in Christ means that some Bible texts cannot be reliably interpreted in ways that show God as a monster

Sea & Islands Post 16a

The Context of Incarnation

The providence of God determined that the Word should become flesh in a particular context: the self-confinement of God into a particular place and a particular time.

The historical context of first century Palestine has its own significance yet, in terms of transferable ideas, the New Testament context is useful for us.

I would suggest that three of the marks of the Incarnational event can be seen as the mess, the movement and the mystery. We find a glimpse of our destination as well as a definition of our transportation, whilst at the same time being given the assurance that only mystery can bring: the assurance that ultimately our future is out of our control and firmly placed in the hands of God.

Mess

The birth of Jesus was far from a sanitised affair. No Entonox for this expectant mother. No baby shower to offer comfortable surroundings for the first few hours of life. From his birth to his death mess surrounded him. We see the words on the crisp clean page and we imagine a neat, white, western scene. Yet consider the threat of death from birth, the accusations of uncleanly eating with sinners and the shame and nakedness of his death with all the blood and sweat pouring from his beaten body.

As I have already stated, what is true for the unique incarnation should be true for the incarnational church.

We can grow to be so comfortable with order and cultural cleanliness that we become less effective. We would much rather know where we stand, than reside in the vulnerability of the unknown. Often the Church is far more concerned with remaining safe and free from contamination than risk being associated with a messy world, full of broken and hurting people. Jesus was not frightened by the mess or intimidated by the opinions of the religious.

When David Matthews (26) said ‘It is better to love the mess of life rather than the order of a funeral’ I think he expressed a vital truth. Order for the sake of our security produces a lifeless body. Everything seems to be in the right place but there is no purpose for its continued existence. We can battle to bring order to our churches so that we are virtually separate from much of the mess of our communities but two facts are obvious: First, mess will remain and continue to enter the church. Second, even if we were successful, we would not be fulfilling our purpose in God.

We have families in our churches who do not have the type of ordered lives that gave rise to our church structures so many years ago. For example, some families, because of multiple relationship breakdowns, can have many grandparents all touching the same family unit.

Even at what seems to be a superficial level, we can be so concerned with order that we stifle life. I remember seeing an old black and white film many years ago. It was set during the Second World War, and The Nazis were searching for a Jewish mother and her child. As the mother hid from view, the baby started to cry and so she pressed it to her breast in order to keep them both safe. Sadly, because of her fear, she held the baby for so long that it stopped breathing and died. How that reminds me of the church at times. We are so fearful of what might go wrong, we stifle the life out of our children, spiritual or otherwise.

When I was a teenager the local youth word for good was ‘magic’. A school friend of mine became a Christian and was asked to give his testimony one Sunday evening. In his excitement at this new life he used the phrase ‘Jesus is magic’. It was interesting to observe the church Elder trying to rugby tackle this piece of northern youth heresy. He spoke for a lot longer than the original testimony trying to convince us all that Jesus was not magic, but divine. Of course he was right in his theology but it was sad that there was such a fear of heresy that the local language of this teenage Mancunian tribe could not speak for itself.

Perhaps one of the greatest pictures of the gospel story is of a Saviour who is willing to enter our human environment whilst being fully aware of its condition. This was not a surprise location for Christ. The church often ends up in situations without any foreknowledge of its destination. Jesus was not defined by the condition of his place of destination. Neither should the church be. We should be fully aware and yet fully willing.

If the Word, as the second person of the trinity, had a cultural context it could be said to be the glory of heaven at the right hand of the Father, with the Holy Spirit. This, we are told, he was willing to leave in order to fulfil his mission. This is an incredible concept. Whilst maintaining his grip firmly on his righteousness and his mission he let go of his context; in the world but not of it.

The mission has to be the same for the church as we continue this Incarnational story. We must discover those things that must be firmly grasped, whilst understanding what can be legitimately left behind for the sake of the gospel. This forms the basis of my thoughts on being both rooted and open.

No longer must we bring our cultural prejudices to the market and call them holy. No longer must we inflict onto the world a legalism that binds. As with Christ, our context is not limiting, our vehicle is service, and our mission is simple, yet at the same time profound. It is our willingness to ‘become’ that will define our success.

Sea & Islands Post 13b

I remember, at the time of the September Eleventh tragedy in New York, looking for something to bring to our church meeting that very night. I wanted to share something that spoke of how we should react to the horror.

My mind went back to a time when I was attacked in my car during a trip to Manchester. In relating this to the Twin towers tragedy I know that my example of hurt, in terms of scale, does not compare with the events on that fateful day, but the principle of dealing with hidden inclinations within us is in keeping with the teaching of Jesus.

I had one of my young daughters in the back of the car and a gang of, what are often wrongly called, footballer supporters ran at the car. They were drunk and angry and violent. I had stopped at a junction and could move forward nor back. They attempted to turn the car over, rocking it violently from side to side. One of them, the biggest of the bunch, opened my door and started to kick and punch me.

My daughter was screaming in the rear of the car and I knew that I had to make a decision. I jumped out of the car with the intention of hitting the biggest one as hard as I could. I thought, just maybe if I frighten him the others might stop. This was of course highly unlikely. I threw a couple of emergency prayers up to heaven. I got out of the car and started to fight. Just as I did, amazingly enough, a vehicle full of bus conductors arrived and came to our rescue. They had to physically stop me hitting my assailant and they chased a number of others away. We were safe.

When I arrived at work on the following Monday I told my work colleagues what had happened. They were unanimous in their view that I had done the right thing in defending my daughter and myself. My friends at church agreed and so it seemed that all was well. I knew deep down, however, that I had crossed an almost invisible line within my heart. My initial response was based on fear and protection but I know that I ended up just wanting to hurt this enemy. I wanted to make him suffer. I am not a fighter and I love peace. I work wherever I can in the name of peace, but peace was not what I wanted at that split second. I wanted revenge.

To everybody else I had done the right thing but I knew inside that I had to repent of wanting to hurt another human being; effectively continuing the cycle of violence. It seems to me that we must not cross the line that we all have inside between a meaningful response and a search for revenge.

Repentance, sacrifice and change are part of our pilgrimage in following Christ as we die to ourselves and live to the fruit that God will produce in us.

Many of these sacrifices are unseen to most of those around us, and that is the way it should be. It is the sum total of our pilgrimage experiences that the world will see not the outward glare of self-important religious gestures. They will notice a radiance and peace that reflects Christ, often in a quiet and unassuming way so that when we do speak they are might be more willing to listen.

We would not normally associate glorification with death and sacrifice yet here marks an important difference between the ways of God and the ways of humanity.

Contained within all people is the purpose for which God has created them and, unless we are willing to deny our own misconceptions, we can never completely fulfil that purpose. This is as true for the church as it is for any individual. As with the life of Christ a choice has to be made as to which path we are going to take. In choosing to die to all that we could attain with our own ideas and strength, we are opening up to the possibility of new things being produced from our lives.

It goes further than giving up those things that hinder our journey. It is not merely a spiritual keep fit program. It is about recognising the freedom that we have gained in Christ and then being willing to sacrifice that same freedom for the sake of the mission to which we are called.

In Acts chapter fifteen we read that a discussion took place about the practice of circumcision. Whilst in Antioch Paul, along with Barnabas, were in a disagreement with some men from Judea. The argument was such that a number of the church travelled to Jerusalem to consult the apostles and elders. After a speech by Peter, James brought his verdict that the Gentile believers were free from the stipulation to be circumcised.

In Chapter sixteen we read that Paul, on taking Timothy on his missionary journey, decided to circumcise him. It was obviously not essential in terms of his acceptance into the church, yet for the sake of the Gospel he made such a sacrifice.

It was for freedom that we have been set free by Christ yet we are to choose to become servants and share in his sufferings.

There is an ontological truth about the nature of creation, God, humanity, and salvation that it seems worth holding to tightly. Yet we see time and time again in scripture a contextualizing of this revelation in the reality of the mess of life. We are saved into the ontological freedom of resurrection life, but our freedom is to be planted into the context of our communities.

Sacrifice, for the Christian, is not the needless denial of the pleasures that the world can offer, it is the letting go of any claim to know what is best for our lives outside of God’s providence.

The story doesn't end there, because as we take up our cross and share in the sufferings of Christ, the promise is that we will also share in the power of his resurrection. Every church needs resurrection life to shine out of its very being. I am drawn to the idea of power but quite often the symbols of power shown in our churches do not present the best picture. When we think of power encounters our focus is often on the pre-cross encounters of Christ. I am happy with this in many ways and I am anxious, as previously stated, to see every part of the ministry of Christ in operation in our churches. We, however, are post-resurrection and this gives a whole new meaning to these encounters.

I find it difficult to read the book of Acts without being made aware of the supernatural nature of the Gospel message. Yet the real beauty, for me, is that these events are set in the normality of ordinary lives. Perhaps the idea of the coming of the Spirit is understood in a correct context when it is in fact seen in this ordinariness.

Acts Chapter one, verse eight gives us a clue:

‘….you will receive power when the Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses……….’

The coming of the Spirit brings this power, this dunamis. Its purpose: so that we might be witnesses for Christ. Its origin: the authority of God.

Because the inauguration of the mission is the coming of the Spirit of God and because the medium is women and men reflecting the glory of gospel, it must mean that this power has more to do with ‘being’ than with merely ‘doing’. The promise is that we will ‘be’ his witnesses: as opposed to you will ‘do’ my witnessing.

Therefore, the supernatural in the context of the missionary life of the church cannot be seen as just a distinct move of the Spirit of God, outside of the ordinary life of the people of God. It is not merely an event; an encounter as sometimes presented by Pentecostal churches. Incarnation, and the power it brings, is about presence within a community.

It has to do with people finding out how to ‘be’ what they are called to ‘be’ in the context where we are called to ‘be’. This 'being' is represented by resurrection power is about heaven (the rule of God) invading the ordinariness of our lives so that others might want it too. In the midst of this there is room for healing and deliverance, but not as merely isolated events. In these incarnational themes lie the foundation of the church's involvement in the plan of God.

Charismatic gifts are not a collection of isolated events but an ongoing encounter with the grace of God

Sea & Islands Post 5

Forest Gardens and the Unexpected Church

Some time ago, I was driving home in our new car after leading a training session in the North East of England. Hoping to listen to some music on the radio I switched on the stereo system.

Having only collected the vehicle that morning, I hadn’t worked out how to change radio channels and was reluctant to be distracted from driving, by trying to read the microscopic letters that my middle-aged eyes refuse to acknowledge these days.

I had to settle for listening to whatever show happened to come on during my two-hour journey home. Towards the middle of my journey I was treated to an episode of the BBC radio programme Gardeners’ Question Time, during which all manner of aphid related advice seemed to be on offer.

Now I am not a gardener and I have to confess that I zoned out much of what they said as my mind wandered to other things. Then, in the middle of the show, my attention was grabbed by a contributor speaking about what she called ‘Forest Gardens’.

She explained that these were areas of garden that had been encouraged to grow in a free and more natural way. To be honest, if I hadn’t been forced to listen by my inability, to use a new radio and drive at the same time, I would have changed channels a long time before. Yet here was a moment when I realised this truth about gardening could be used to help me understand the church in a fresh way.

British gardening habits are still highly influenced by Victorian sensibilities and the need for order. Mirroring the new ordered approach to life, gardens (at least for the wealthy) became expressions of control and dominion with the Lord of the manor being congratulated for the work done by his underpaid workforce. In years to come slum terraces would be demolished to be replaced by modern houses with small amounts of land in which inhabitants could mirror this need for order; with close cut lawns and well stocked flower beds.

During this period you would be forgiven for thinking that such landscaping was the definitive standard for all gardens everywhere. Indeed there are examples of this view all around the former British Empire. The benefits of this style of gardening are obvious in that it allows for clarity with well-defined borders between flowers and lawn.

Forest Gardens, however, offer the possibility of seeing new flowers and wildlife that would not be welcomed in the ordered world of Victoriana. The radio expert was asked whether it was easier to cultivate this freer expression of horticulture and she, somewhat counter-intuitively, responded ‘No!’. Going on to explain her views she said:

‘….you need a different eye to even want to begin the journey. '

Setting up a contrast with the more traditional approach she continued

‘You are less hands on, but you have to notice different things.’

In an instant I saw a comparison between the conservative evangelicalism that I had been brought into and our newly found emergent expression of church. The old offers the comfort of clear lines and a definition that allows us to believe that we are immune from the world outside of our fences.

The new, however, looks messy and doesn’t seem to provide the clarity that we think should be an integral part of the church and the gospel. There are many terms used to describe this ecclesiological expression but I have chosen to use Evangelical Morphodoxy. It is a way of describing the tension felt between being rooted in an ancient faith but being open to find new ways to shape it in every new context. The incarnational idea of morphing into the most appropriate expression of the good news seems to best show how God was revealed in Jesus Christ.

I am sure that some will equate our messiness in doing church with a lack of vision: but they would be mistaken in this view. We do have a vision but the signifiers are different from the ones that Christians have often been taught to expect.

The reward for producing a Forest Garden is that you get to see different plants and wildlife that are not always welcome in the perfectly ordered Victorian influenced garden. The reward of having an Evangelical Morphodoxy approach is that we get to see new fruit and new life that at times is unexpected.

To start this we need to accept that we perhaps need to be ‘….less hands on’ and ‘…notice different things.’

Let the gardening begin………


'It's the same each time with progress. First they ignore you, then they say you’re mad, then dangerous, then there’s a pause and then you can’t find anyone who disagrees with you.'

Tony Benn - British Politician (8)

Sea & Islands Post 4

Deconstruction is the Beginning of Incarnation

In order to be reshaped in the image of others, first we need to allow for the possible removal of our existing points of security. This is indeed a risk because we must trust that God will meet us in the process. Lesslie Newbigin (4) talks of leaving the hill of the cross to journey towards the stranger. In doing so we risk that the 'other' may hold something of the truth and we must trust that the God of the universe will be with us both in the mission.

This seems entirely Christ-like; the second person of the Trinity didn’t consider the markers of his own identity more important than his willingness to change or become. The letter to the Philippians speaks of this kenosis, or emptying:

‘Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing’(5)

For us then, as followers of Christ, a key component of faith is not professing that our beliefs are right at all costs. In this context our expression of faith is bringing our lives into contact with others, trusting the Holy Spirit to hold our beliefs.

Deconstruction allows every generation to be involved in shaping the church and its mission. It often seems that the voices of the dead carry more weight than the words of the living. Witness the wholesale dismissal of Rob Bell (6) over his declaration that ‘Love Wins’ by some of the very people who feel comfortable quoting C.S. Lewis (7); someone who held equally controversial views.

I am not suggesting that our predecessors should be ignored, but that they should not be so revered that their views cannot be questioned.

For Beverley and I, our journey has brought us to embrace the twin motif of Rooted-Openness. We have spent time looking for that in which we can confidently put down roots. At the same time we have tried to build an environment of openness so that we might love, and learn from, those who see the world in a different way to us.

In this context, deconstruction always starts at a personal level before affecting a wider context.

Having said this I intend to add to this personal journey by looking at the following areas:

Our theology in terms of how evangelicals approach the Bible. In particular, I want to offer an honest assessment of my views on gender and sexuality.

Our ecclesiology and how we have a tendency to create self-fulfilling models of church that miss many of the marks of incarnation.

Our missiology in regard to how we see both the work of Christ and the message of the church.

It is time for incarnation. Let the deconstruction begin…….

Deconstruction is a holy process: sacred, because it mirrors the incarnation

Sea & Island Post 2

There is no Good Place to Stand

Having four daughters has an effect on both how you see the world and how you live your life. I have probably spent more than my fair share of time on shopping expeditions for clothes and other daughter related products. The majority of these consumerist exploits have been spent outside the changing rooms of various department stores.

I have developed a theory about such things that I feel is worthy of sharing at the beginning of this book. It centres on the idea that on these occasions there is no good place to stand. If you position yourself too near the changing rooms you tend to look a little odd. If, however, you stand too far away, you will not hear your wife calling from behind the curtains for you to exchange one of her items for a different size. Either way, there is no good place to stand.

It often seems like this when considering the key themes involved in leading church. Wherever you stand, there will be those who will criticise your choice; this can mean that sometimes it becomes easier to make no decision at all, rather than risk making the wrong one. We are left with a set of unspoken issues that remain unchallenged, for fear of standing in the wrong place; we are left with a kind of theological dissonance.

A little too close in one direction and you may well be dismissed as unorthodox; move too far the other way and you may well be seen as irrelevant to the community in which you serve. I have decided that it is best not to let the fear of being labelled ‘unorthodox’ stop me from wrestling with some very important questions.

Finding a good place to stand can only be a temporary exercise for anyone called to be a pilgrim