Hail Julius! Er, I mean Jesus!

You can say what you like about Julius Caesar, but the boy got results.

"Right fellas, see that Gaul place over the mountains? Let's go and give them a right royal Roman style kicking!"
"Er, why boss?"
"Because we're Romans, and we can!"
"Hurrah!"

Sometimes a part of me, a teenie weenie little part, wishes there could be a bit more of the Julius Caesar in pioneering ministry. You see, when one has a vision, it is very clear and obvious the place that one needs to go and the best way one needs to get there. It is not, however, equally clear and obvious why other people can't see things the same way.

Llan had its second 'community life meeting' (NOT church meeting) last night and the main item on the agenda was reflecting on our core values. Sticking with the Julius Caesar analogy for a tad longer, here's a rough summary of how it went:

"Right fellas, see that Gaul place over the mountains? Let's go and give them a right royal Roman style kicking!"
"Er, why boss?"
"Because we're Romans, and we can!"
"Yes, er, sorry boss but the plan is still a little fuzzy for me. Why Gaul? Seems to me an awful lot of effort for a load of stinking barbarians living in a place that rains all the time. What about them Spanish? Seems like a much better idea."
"Yes, but..."
"And why do we have to go around giving everyone a kicking anyway? Why not invite them for a cup of tea and a chat? Isn't living side by side a better idea?"
"I see your point, but the vision..."
"Yes, how did we decide on this vision again? I don't remember any meeting to discuss it..."

Etc. etc. Long story short, the very definite plan that I had of where we wanted to be by the end of the meeting was not reached. Instead, we all came away with melted brains.

Veni vidi vici indeed.

The way of Julius does seem much simpler, unfortunately the way of Jesus is different. The way of Jesus insists that He is in charge, no individual person, which sadly includes me. In spite of the long and meandering discussions I really do believe God was there and teaching us stuff at the meeting, specifically that first and foremost in his kingdom is the value of love. It was as though JC was saying to us, "Seriously guys, if you can't love each other when you don't agree, you're really on to a non starter with any other grand plans you might have. At least if you're serious about doing things my way that is."

Touche. Good point well made. Last night's meeting may have frustrated some of my plans, but I have this uncomfortable feeling it was completely in keeping with the plans of Him Upstairs.

That's what comes of following Jesus and not Julius I guess.

Be thin for Jesus

Thin places: no, not a reference to the church halls, leisure centres and other generic community hubs that host slimming world meetings; these are special locations in which many folk have testified to having strange and otherworldly experiences. The idea is that there are some places in this otherwise mundane and drab world where the veil between our reality and a hidden, spiritual reality is particularly thin, and it is possible for crossover and interaction between the two worlds to take place. This may seem a little bit too Derek Acorah for some, but don't consign it to the BS waste bin too quickly. The idea is an ancient one originating in the mists of ancient Celtic mythology, where the heroes of Britannia and Hibernia would find themselves transported to an idyllic land of wonders after sitting on a hill, or venturing into a cave. There have been many archaeological finds of offerings given to various gods, spirits and movie stars native to this archipelago deposited in lakes, rivers, trees and caves that were considered thin places. Later, Christians came along and nicked the idea (standard) and started dedicating these same spots to their saints (albeit taking it one step further by burying severed heads, hands and other grizzly appendages).

So why this splurge of useless information? Well, recently I've started taking the idea of thin places seriously. Being a good Baptist up to this point in my journey, I've never before been into bells and smells, regimented prayer times and other such religious paraphernalia, but in the words of Oz's favourite wicked witch, "something has changed within me." Since we started Llan back in September 2012, I thought it would be a good idea to try and establish a rhythm of prayer, as it seemed like the kind of thing a monk would do. So I invited anyone who was up for it to meet at The Gate at 8.15am to pray a morning office. Initially it was just me and one other from the community who attended, and now seven months on it's still just me and one other. Oh well. But that's not the point I want to make here.

Many folk might see having to come to a same place every day to say the same prayers as just another religious rule that doesn't mean anything, but in all honesty that is not my experience. Coming to this same place at this same time, going through the ritual of setting up our makeshift chapel (complete with print of Rembrandt's Return Of The Prodigal Son, stone Celtic cross and tea light), spending moments in silence to bring to mind God's love that is "new every morning", saying the same words from psalms and other ancient sources, holding our loved ones before God....it becomes something more than the sum of its parts. The light begins to represent God's presence with you in that place, the words begin to seep into your inner being and set your soul on fire with their truth, the picture begins to speak of God's mercy in a language that communicates directly with your spirit. That place, that time, that rhythm...it has become a thin place for me, a place where I meet with God.

I really, really hope that more people will come to see the mystery and power in rhythms and practises like this. They're not dead, they're very much alive. Thin places may not be found on a hill in Suffolk under a full moon any more, instead they can be found literally anywhere folk are able and willing to open themselves to the Ancient Spirit.

Learning from the past, adapting for the present, stepping into the future.

Llan: pioneering thin places since 2012.

Bring out your crap

I had one of those experiences last week that somehow, like a bolt of lightning from a clear sky, manages to instantaneously realign your perspective before you were even aware it was starting to veer off course. While shopping in Tesco (other supermarkets are available, and indeed preferable), I randomly bumped into a lady (let's call her Jane) whom I had met briefly a few months back. She seemed like a nice person, but didn't get to know her particularly because not long after we met she completely disappeared from the world's radar. I was told by other mutual acquaintances that she had been signed off by the doctor with depression. She wasn't answering e-mails, phone calls, facebook messages, nothing. Gone. Vanished Dynamo stylee.

It was one of those awkward moments when you walk past someone you kind of know and recognise but you're not exactly sure. Your brain panics, bombarding you with a dozen questions in the space of a nano second: 'is it really who I think it is?' 'Does she recognise me?' 'Should I be polite and say hello on the off chance?' 'Can I be bothered with the effort of making conversation?' You know the type of thing. Anyway, there in the middle of the automatic doors we simultaneously decided we could be bothered to say hello to each other, and I'm so glad we did.

We were chatting for a good twenty minutes. Jane told me how, around six or seven months ago, her life just got too overwhelming and everything shut down. She couldn't face anything, at least nothing where there were any people. She left work, social groups, and church. Oh, did I mention she was a Christian? Yup. A passionate Christian woman in her mid twenties. That is, until the breakdown. She had to leave all that behind.

It was the pressure you see, the pressure she was under from all quarters, ESPECIALLY the pressure at church to 'be a good Christian'. Every week she heard sermons telling her to do this, do that, act like this, if you do this it's wrong, be a good example, show other people how great God is; and doesn't matter if you're struggling, just fake it. Fake it! FAKE IT!!!!!!!! It all got too much. She left it all.

But now, having been mentally and emotionally blasted by a phaser set to disintegrate, Jane was beginning to rise from the ashes. Slowly, painstakingly, but rising none the less. And she wasn't rising as the same person, with the same view of God. Is she still a Christian? Well, make your own judgement. She says she can't even begin to think about concepts like God or Jesus and definitely can't contemplate going back to church, BUT through her whole ordeal, even when things were at their blackest, she was constantly aware of a light that emanated warmth, and all she knew was that she wanted to be near that light. It was that light's presence which enabled her to come out of the valley of the shadow of death and begin to discover life. The desire to be near it was not forced, it was not something she was told she must do in a sermon, not something she would feel guilty about if she didn't; it was pure, unadulterated, simple desire. And it saved her.

It's important every now and again to remind yourself why you started doing something in the first place. My original, passionate drive to get into the whole minister thing was because of stories like Jane's, stories of people who just could not force themselves into the Christian 'box' they were given when they signed up. My own experience is of spending so much effort trying to conform to the pressures of religion and all the while never knowing anything of that rest which Jesus promised to his followers. I wanted and want more than anything else to be part of a community where people can come with all their baggage, all their crap, all their failures, all their weaknesses and not be afraid of showing them. A community of authenticity and honesty, where no one ever feels the need to fake it. A community where that warm, inviting, healing, mending, soothing light is ever present.

Thank you Jane, I needed that.

Super Massive Shiny Crosses

So yesterday I went to a rather auspicious and not a little intimidating conference for Anglican monks, nuns, bishops and priests to discuss new monasticism, new forms of church, new prayer movements and other new stuff. The point of the meeting was to talk about how to get faith communities engaging with British society, and where God might be leading us in this. I've been to a number of these types of meetings before but never one with so many awesome forms of attire, and I can honestly say I've never seen so many big and shiny crosses in one room in my life!! It was all quite impressive, especially situated as it was in Westminster House, surrounded by the architectural grandeur of Westminster Abbey, Westminster Chapel and with the Houses of Parliament not too far away (I found it quite cool that the square in which all these churchy type buildings were located was called 'The Sanctuary.' Maybe that's just me).

Bishop Graham Cray was the main speaker - the bloke in charge of fresh expressions of church in the Church of England (and the guy with the biggest cross) - and he spoke about all these new ways of doing things that actually weren't all that new at all. As the conference progressed, other speakers shared their stories, from old-school monks and nuns wearing variously coloured frocks, to one young guy with bleached blond hair cut into a mid-naughties 'Busted' style, but the same theme was emerging: new stuff is usually just old stuff that was once new stuff itself, repackaged for a new time and place.

As I sat there I couldn't help but consider this.The old and the new, repackaging, learning from the past, understanding the present, building for the future. This is the way of the pioneer. It's so important to remember that there is, quite literally, nothing new under the sun and all that we do today has been done before. Does this make what we do any less valid? Nope. the pioneer's role is to be a student of the past, to be inspired by the past, and to allow the past to be a welcome friend and guide as she steps out to do her creative thing. This is how it's always been, holding in tension the ancient, the imaginative and the contextual. It's not an easy thing to do, as there is SOOOOOO much scope for miscommunication, misunderstanding and mistranslation. Still, there's no getting around it. In this way JC himself was the pioneer par example, being inspired by God's ways of salvation in Israel's history for his brand-new-yet-familiar work of salvation on the cross.

This being the case, I need to get me a super massive shiny cross...a super massive shiny cross that plays mp3s and takes photos and protects you from virtual vampires and locates your precise theological position on the Calvinist scale. Ladies and gentleman, I have just invented the iCross. Awesome.