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LUKE 1:39-56 Advent 3 2017. A Reflection.
Christmas can get out of hand can’t it? Especially when the relatives turn up …
Well here’s a Christmas story about a relative coming to
visit and things getting out of hand.
Oops sorry – that’s
not very LC is it?
LC?
Liturgically Correct.
Let me start again.
Here’s an advent story
about a relative coming to visit.
Let me warn you, it’s an odd story. You know, like one of those modern stories
where you are never entirely surely what’s going on. If you listen carefully, underneath the
surface you can hear all kinds of chaos bubbling away. Frankly, it’s a little disturbing, the kind
of story that leaves your wondering, “Where
will it all end?”
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Let’s start at the beginning.
It all starts rather, well, rather recklessly.
Mary, pregnant
Mary, runs for the hills. No one is entirely sure why she was in such a hurry. Perhaps she was embarrassed? Or maybe she was Excited? Either way she seems
to have forgotten that advent is about patient waiting. Doesn't bode well does it?
In fact, the more the story unfolds the more it begins to
look as though this ‘ere pregnancy malarkey is affecting Mary's memory rather
badly. Not only has she forgotten the meaning of advent but she’s also forgotten
her manners.
Instead of greeting the man of the house, you know, behaving
properly, she heads straight for the old woman. No don’t complain, don't accuse me of being sexist, it is his house. Look, it says it. Right there in Holy Scripture. “… she entered
the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth.
See!
I don't know about you but quite frankly I don’t know what to make of it. Maybe she’s
being rude, or perhaps just a bit cheeky - she is a teenager after all. Mind you, there could another, more sinister possibility. Some would say, God forbid, that she’s being
deliberately subversive. I do hope
not. After all, where will it all end?
Actually, the more you read the story, the more you find
yourself wondering if there hasn’t been something of an outbreak of recklessness
in Judah. Even the Holy Spirit has been
affected.
I mean look. He too
is ignoring the proper channels, bypassing the priest, the man, and pressing
Elizabeth’s prophecy button instead! I
can think of some who might argue that God has silenced old Zech on purpose, you know, just to
let the women get a word in edgeways.
Then the next thing you know, the babies are getting in on
the act. Unborn babies! First there's Holy Spirit
inspired prophecy that sees deep enough to recognise the Lord in a foetus and
then we get charismatic dancing in utero.
The world’s going mad! Where will it all end?
Actually, there might be another way of looking at this. I said it was the Holy Spirit who was behind
these goings on, but you know what, on reflection, if you look carefully at
what Elizabeth says, you’ve got to wonder if this really is the Holy Spirit at work after all.
I mean, bless her, Elizabth seems to have got a bit mixed
up. On the one hand she thinks that Mary’s
unborn child is her Lord, “Why has the mother of my Lord come to me?” and in
the next breath she’s speaking as if the Lord is the one who sent the Angel
with the message about the baby, “…
blessed is she who believed … what was spoken to her by the Lord.”
See what I mean? Poor
old dear. Probably a bit hormonal. Getting her theology all confused like that.
Next up, the pregnant teenager is at it. And boy! (sorry,
child!) does she go for it.
Talk about delusional! Just because crazy aunty Liz has
called her blessed she now seems to
think that all generations will call
her blessed! I mean to say! All generations? Who does she think she is? After all Joseph’s no Abraham and she’s no
Sarah.
But there’s more … not only has she got delusions of
grandeur, she’s starting to sound like one of those there dangerous
radicals. Someone somewhere is not
complying with the prevent strategy. And once you start playing fast and loose
with government directives, well, who knows
where it will all end?
I mean, have you heard the stuff she’s coming out with? Bad
theology and subversive politics that's what!
“Bad theology?” I hear you ask. Well just take a look. She sounds like one of
those soppy evangelicals. Me, me, me, my, my, my – my God, my Saviour, my
blessing. This is the worst kind of Yahweh is my boyfriend nonsense. I ask you! What she needs is a year or two at
theological college.
And then on top of all this extreme, hyper-spiritual, over-individualised,
doe-eyed nonsense, she starts laying down extremist politics: scattering the proud indeed! Or in other words scaring people off!
Not only that but she’s advocating the overthrow of
legitimate governments; wasting money on
scroungers – oops sorry – PC alert – “the lowly”; taxing the rich so they no longer have two
bank accounts to rub together and then giving it all to the so called
hungry. Prophetic correctness gone mad! Where
will it all end?
So, there you have it a strange chaotic tale in an obscure
backwater. A pregnant teenager. A doddering
old woman. A dancing foetus. Confused theology. Superspiritual
twaddle. Loony left politics. And not a
man in sight anywhere to keep order. I
ask you: Where will it all end?
Of course, we like to think that we know where it will all end: a cross, a
grave, a resurrection, a Holy Spirit deluge, a new people, a coming again and
a new heaven and earth.
I do like a happy ending.
Only this story isn’t about eagerly anticipated endings it’s
about unexpected beginnings. Odd beginnings with divine life making an appearance among unfavoured people in strange places, unnamed places, easily overlooked places, quiet places, hidden
places, places as deep and dark and quiet and hidden as a hymen-sealed womb.
After The Bomb
25 May 2017 11:52 PM (7 years ago)

This week the place
where I live was violated. Children from
our city and our region, were cruelly killed and maimed. As you are no doubt aware, Manchester is
living through one of the most difficult weeks in its proud history. And in the heart of this city my colleagues
and I at Northern Baptist College have been getting on with the job that we
believe God has given us, the same job that the college has been doing for over
150 years, preparing people for servant leadership in the Church of Jesus
Christ. It hasn’t been easy.
On Tuesday, our staff
team travelled out of our shaken city for an away day. We spent most of our time naming, discussing
and praying for each of our students.
Today, back at Luther King House, our home base on Manchester’s famous
curry mile, we have been interviewing four people who believe that God is
calling them into Christian ministry, calling them in other words to devote
their lives to helping people to follow Jesus, helping people to love, to
serve, to pursue peace and to work for justice. To be involved in such a
process is always a profound privilege. This week it seems a particularly
fitting way to be spending our time.
Why?
Well, because the
slaughter on our doorstep has reminded us just how much our city needs
communities of people committed to living the Jesus way. When some might be tempted to let anger turn
into hatred, Manchester needs people who will remember that each of its
citizens, whether red or blue, whether African, Asian or European, whether Sikh
or Christian, Jewish or Muslim, whether northern-born or less fortunate, every
last one of us is first and foremost a human being, created by God, bearing the
image of God (however distorted) and precious in the sight of God.
As one of those
charged by my denomination to form the next generation of church leaders I have
to make sure that all our students remember what churches are for. No one can
be allowed to leave our college in any doubt whatsoever that our churches must
never become self-interested, seeking only their own wellbeing, neglecting the
communities that God has called them to serve.
They must never be allowed to think that mission is only about growing
bigger and bigger churches. They must never be allowed to devote themselves to growing
disciples simply for the sake of growing disciples without asking what
disciples are for, what difference disciples are supposed to make in the wider
world.
We need leaders who
will help churches become what they were always meant to be: communities of the
prince peace, the healer, the lover of outcasts, the one who would eat with
anyone whether he was supposed to or not, the one who wept for Jerusalem. Any church that does not seek the welfare of
its city is a contradiction in terms. Any church that forgets to build bridges
of reconciliation forgets whose church it is.
Any church that is content to let outsiders stay out has lost its way
and lost sight of its Lord. Any church
that thinks that this kind of stuff is none of its business is plain wrong.
That’s what I have to
remember. That’s what this difficult
week has reminded me. I pray to God that
I will never forget. I pray that you
will never forget either, even if you are not fortunate enough live in
Manchester.
One of the things
that people often say, when they are touched by tragedies such as the one that happened
on our doorstep, is, “I wanted to do something but I felt helpless.” If that’s you then thank God you’re are not helpless. If like me you name Jesus
as your saviour, there’s lots you can
do. Here’s six suggestions for starters.
1.
You can resolve to
remind yourself each morning that every person who lives in your village, town
or city is a child of Adam and Eve and therefore your brother or sister in God.
2.
You can commit
yourself to helping your church to become the kind of church that behaves a bit
more like Jesus.
3.
You can identify
someone in your community from another background, another race, another
religion and simply get to know them. If that sounds scary, start by smiling
and saying, “Hello.”
4.
You can find a group
that is working to build bridges in your community and join them, whether they carry
a Christian label or not.
5.
You can go on praying
the prayer that Jesus taught us pray, “… your will be done in my part of your
earth as it is in heaven” and then act like you mean it.
6.
And you can, if you
would be so kind, pray for my colleagues and me in the heart of our hurting
city, that we might be able to grow leaders who know how to grow churches who
know how to grow the kind of communities that will gladden the heart of God.

Jesus seemed to think that evangelism was an important part
of being a disciple. He told Simon and
Andrew that to follow him would mean fishing for people. He told those of his friends who stuck with
him in Jerusalem that when he sent the Holy Spirit they would end up being his
witnesses. According to Matthew, his
parting words make it clear that to be a disciple is to make other
disciples. It all seems pretty
straightforward. If we call ourselves
Christians we are meant to evangelise.
The same is true if we call ourselves Baptists. The official basis of our union only has
three principles, one of those is that every disciple is to bear personal
witness to the good news and take part in the evangelisation of the world.
So, how’s that going?
Ah, thought as much, sorry to hear that.
More and more of us seem to have a problem with
evangelism. On the one hand we know we
are supposed to, but quite frankly much of the evangelism we have seen puts us
off. “If that’s what evangelism looks
like I wouldn’t do it to my worst enemies.” Evangelism can so easily become
intrusive, arrogant, pushy, manipulative, forced, artificial, dishonest - anything
but good news. However, it doesn’t have to be that way.
If you are not a fan of some of the evangelism that you’ve
seen, here’s some good news - not the
good news, but some good news about the good news.
·
You don’t have to stand on street corners shouting
at people.
·
You don’t have to pretend that you want people
to be your friends, just so you can evangelise them.
·
You don’t have to devise a cunning strategy to
get your friends to come to church even though you are pretty sure they don’t
want to.
·
You don’t have to invite them to hear some minor
celebrity who’s pretending to talk about being a celebrity when really that’s
just an excuse to preach the gospel.
·
You don’t have to wear a wrist band and explain
what the heart, the X, the cross and the question mark stand for, or be able to
draw The Bridge to Life, or memorise The Four Spiritual Laws, or any other
formula for that matter.
Those things aren’t what evangelism is. They are just some of
the ways that people have gone about
evangelism.
OK, then, so what is
evangelism?
To put it simply, evangelism is the communication of the
gospel. It’s all about helping people to
find out about and understand the good news of Jesus in the hope that they too will
want to follow him. Evangelism is goodnewsing, getting on with life in
such a way that people have a chance to discover Jesus for themselves.
If I’m right, and this is what
evangelism is, another bit of good
news is that it’s best not to limit evangelism to verbal proclamation.
We can communicate the good news as
individuals or as churches by the way we are,
and the stuff we do as well as the
things we say. Being, doing and speaking are all important
modes of evangelism. When we are the
kind of church that is welcoming, friendly, outward-looking, generous and
forgiving, we communicate the good news by embodying
it. When we work to shelter the
homeless, feed the hungry and campaign for the oppressed, we communicate the
good news by enacting it. When we explain to our friends why we pray,
how we came to follow Jesus or what God means to us, we communicate the good
news by articulating it.
Of course these three modes of
communication work best when they work together. That way they make for a richer expression of
the gospel. Being on its own is too passive.
Doing on its own is too ambiguous. Speaking on its own is too facile. Get it all together though and
our message is more likely to ring true.
The next piece of good news is evangelism
doesn’t always have to be the thing at the front of our mind, the thing we are
consciously aiming at. In fact it often
happens best when it happens obliquely.
Ironically, if evangelism is always the primary motivator for everything
we are, do and say we will end up actually undermining our evangelism because
we will make it inauthentic, twisted, less than genuine.
So, for example, when the way we are
bespeaks Christ, when our churches are hospitable, honouring the least and
including the outsider, this is indeed evangelistic, it communicates the good
news, but our primary intent here is
not to communicate but rather, together as a church, to live a Christ-like
life. Evangelism in this mode is more often than not a blessed by product of
trying to be faithful, Jesus-type communities.
Similarly, if we only ever care for the
needy or work for peace and reconciliation so
that we can let everyone see what the way of Christ looks like, there’s
something about our motivation that is not true to the Jesus we hope to
communicate. Again, gospel communication
in this mode happens best when we are focussed something else, such as loving
people, irrespective of whether or not they are interested in our message.
This also applies when we speak of our faith. When we explain to
friends why we pray, when we offer a Christ-informed perspective to colleagues
at work chatting about an event in the news, even on occasions such as these it
is not that we think, “OK, now I am going to evangelise.” No, we just do it because
part of what it means to live as a Christian is to speak as a Christian and therefor
to speak of Christ.
Now don’t get me wrong here. I’m not against intentional proclamation of
the gospel as one means of communicating good news. There will, of course, always
be those times when our primary purpose is indeed to get the good news across.
But these are evangelism’s special occasions not its everyday way of being.
This is evangelism in its Sunday best not the kind of come as you are and take us as you find us evangelism which is the
staple of ordinary goodnewsing. This
matters, because when we allow disciples to believe that the exceptional is
what defines evangelism we run the risk of putting them off.
Nor am I suggesting that we don’t have
to speak about our faith. I don’t think
St. Francis ever actually said, “Preach the good news and if you must, use
words” but I wish it hadn’t got round that he did. Piping up about Jesus is a crucial part of
evangelism. But it’s a part not the whole. And it’s at its best
when it’s not contrived but rather when we just tell our friends about Jesus,
when we say what we say because that’s who we are, not because we are targeting
someone, seeking to assuage our guilt or trying the get the pastor off our
back.
I don’t know if these thoughts will
help. Some might think I’m watering down
evangelism. In which case I’ve not made
myself clear. I think I’m trying to beef
it up. I’m also trying to help people
see that it can be a commonplace part of ordinary Christian living; something
everyday for everyday disciples; something that everyday disciples just get one
with; something for which the Baptist flavour of disciple becomes known – in
life and not just on paper. If that were
to happen, that would be good news.

I've been struggling this morning to express my feelings about last night's general
election. It occurred to me that what I want to say is what I said back in 2010. This piece
originally appeared in The Baptist Times and then shortly after on this blog. I've already reposted it once two years ago when news came out of further benefit cuts. I can do no better that repost again.
All together now:
I will speak out for those who have no voices
I will stand up for the rights of all the oppressed
I will speak truth and justice
I'll defend the poor and the needy
I will lift up the weak in Jesus' name
Or if you prefer:
I, the Lord of wind and flame,
I will tend the poor and lame.
I will set a feast for them.
My hand will save.
I
wonder if you ever sing either of these hymns. If so I do hope you
won’t allow David Cameron
and Nick Clegg to turn you into a hypocrite.
You
see it looks like we are in for a period when the attention of the
media will be, as ever, on the antics of the rich and famous (not least,
following last week’s announcement, the royally rich and famous.)
[This was originally reference to the announcement of the engagement of Prince William and Kate Middleton. You may wish to take it now as a reference to the birth last week of Charlotte Windsor.]
Meanwhile hundreds of thousands of the not nearly so rich and the
nowhere near as famous will, largely unnoticed, be struggling to cope as
their jobs are snatched away and their benefits slashed.
“Oh
dear” I hear you say, “this is getting a bit political.” Well, yes,
but my purpose in raising this is not to debate the minutiae of
government fiscal policy. I’m not sure that an economics A level from
1978 is sufficient qualification to pronounce on the relative merits of
Keynes and Friedman as gurus for hard times. Instead I’m going to stick
to what I know.
I reckon I’m on safe ground when I
tell you that thirty five years of reading the Bible has lead me to the
conclusion that Jesus is not very fond of hypocrisy. And make no
mistake it will be the rankest of rank hypocrisy if in coming years the
church in this country continues to sing its hymns of solidarity and
preach its sermons on God’s care for poor while keeping stum about the
impact of legislation on the lives of the most vulnerable. It would
also be somewhat less than satisfactory for us to follow the all too
familiar path of sticking to escapist praise songs and ignoring awkward
Bible passages.
For the purposes of this column whether
you voted Tory, Labour, Lib Dem or Monster Raving Looney is not really
my concern. My point is that as Christians we all belong to a political
party that has as one of the main planks of its platform a policy that
is set firmly against passing by on the other side. Ever since the good
Samaritan did his stuff we have declared care-less neglect of the
battered and the bruised to be a bad thing. And those who shoot their
mouths off about how the world should be run really ought to try and
muster up at least an ounce or two of consistency.
We
can agree on that can’t we? That the church ought to be speaking out on
behalf of those whom the majority of society would rather ignore? That
we should be trying to wrestle the spotlight away from princes and
prima donnas, nudging it instead towards those upon whom God’s eye
rests?
If not, perhaps it’s time to call an end to the
party. At the very least we should take our scissors to our Bibles and
attack our hymn projection software with the delete button. The
Magnificat for instance, and all those songs based upon it, should be
left on the cutting room floor this Christmas. True, the bland and
anaemic version of Christianity with which we would be left is a rather
distasteful thing, but not nearly as nauseating a full blown hypocrisy.
This piece originally appeared in The Baptist Times and is reproduced here with permission of the editor.
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I came across this in the depths of my computer while looking for some material for a sermon I have to preach. It's old but, for once, it's an old one I quite like. Also, somewhat unusually, it's actually a full script. For both these reasons I thought I'd stick it up here.
Everybody's Looking For
Something
WBC
Carols By Candlelight 2003
The story of course is set
in what we now call the middle east.
It's a story of how powerful men travelled many miles to look for a
great ruler.
It's a story of how they eventually find him, not in the capital city,
but in an obscure village in a rural part of the country in the most surprising
of circumstances.
And it's the story of how the discovery led to great rejoicing far and
wide.
But enough about the capture of Saddam Hussein.
Our concern is today is with
a very different kind of ruler – but one who also inspired much
searching.
In fact it's a story where every body seems to be looking for
something.
Caesar Augustus was searching out information, facts and figures
about the greatness of his empire – how proud he must have been.
Mary and Joseph are looking for a place for the night – desperately
looking.
The angels, no doubt
bursting with the kind of eager anticipation you feel when you've got good news
to share, come to seek out the shepherds.
(Shepherds) Who then trip off filled with curiosity to
check out the heavenly story – a saviour? The lord Messiah? A baby in Bethlehem?
Then there's those determined magi
– over five hundred miles because what they've read in the stars – a mysterious
king – one who merits the costliest gifts.
Even Herod was on the look
out – fearfully scouring his domain – petrified that he might be overthrown one
day and determined to do what ever it takes to save his skin.
Then in the bit of the story that we don't usually get to, someone
who's been waiting, looking out for such a long time, old man Simeon who despite his failing eye-sight sees more clearly
than any – sees that the baby in the temple, cradled nervously by this teenage
mum really is a little bundle of joy – in the way that all babies are supposed
to be but also in a special way that will only ever apply to this baby. He sees that this is the salvation of God the
very light of the world and he sees that his waiting and searching and his life
itself is now over, complete, brought to a good end.
Everybody is looking for something.
Fearfully looking, hopefully looking, proudly looking, looking with determination,
looking because they are confused.
That sense that so many have, that they still haven't found what they
are looking for.
That sense is of course a
part of the human condition long since recognised by many. That sense that there must be more to
life. That this can't be all that there
is to it. That feeling of somehow being destined
for something more than the ad men and the careers advisers have to offer.
It's a feeling that inspires many people to set off on many different
searches.
From the driven workaholic to
the superficial shopaholic. From
those few who embark on religious quests
to the many millions who simply drift
through life with a nagging question which they mostly manage to ignore and
which only occasionally prompts them to consider looking for a serious answer.
The Christian faith of
course has long had it's own take on this phenomenon. Of all those who have tried to express it no
one has done a better job than an African bishop who lived 1700 years ago. Augustine put it in the form of prayer to
God:
“You have made us for
yourself and our hearts are restless till they rest in you.”
In other words every human being is created and destined to live life
in relationship with God. And whether
they realise it or not that is what
everyone is looking for.
But there's another part of
the Christian take on this phenomenon and it's this that makes Christmas
and indeed the whole Christian story such good
news.
What none of those seekers in the Christmas story quite grasped is that
there was someone else on a search. While they were all looking for the baby, through
the baby God was looking for them.
You see the Christian faith is
not so much about us looking for God as it is about the incredible news that
God has come looking for us. When
the baby grew up he put it straight:
“I
came to seek and to save what is lost”
We may nor realise that we will never truly be at peace till we get to
know him – but he does and he comes to offer that which we all need – a real life, here and now relationship with
our creator.
So the message of Christmas is “Stop
your looking and allow yourself to be found”. Allow yourself to be found just as you are,
whether you are an outsider like the magi,
down to earth and plain ordinary like the
shepherds or as fearful as Herod. Allow yourself to be found simply by saying,
“Here I am Lord, let’s get to know each other”.
If you want to know more
talk, to one of your Christian friends.
Ask them what it's like to be found by God. My prayer for you this Christmas is that
everyone of you will find what you are looking for.
Happy Christmas.
(Here's a link to a downloadable pdf of this sermon on my Scribd page.)

My wife and my daughter are both teachers. They are on strike.
They are striking because:
- The current secretary of state for education utterly disregards the professional opinion of frontline teachers.
- The current secretary of state is introducing ill-informed ideologically motivated changes that have succeeded in alienating the vast majority of the profession to an unprecedented extent.
- They have not had a pay rise in three years.
- They are due just 1% pay rise this year.
- The government says they will not receive a real terms increase until 2016 at the earliest.
- Their pensions are being severely cut back.
- The prime minister whose party failed to get a majority vote four years ago is threatening to introduce minimum turnout ballots for strike action.
Both my wife and my daughter are dedicated, caring and skilful professionals doing arguably one the most important jobs there is. They typically work 10 to 11 hour days. They also work at weekends and during their holidays. Every week they buy resources for classroom teaching out of their own pockets without being able to claim expenses. It is a regular occurrence for my wife (who specialises in teaching children with autism) to be physically attacked.
If we value our country and our future as a society we must value our children. If we value our children we must value their education. If we value their education we must value the most important contributors to that education. This government patently does not.
I know that some in the private sector have also seen a deterioration in their remuneration and working conditions. This is no reason to criticise teachers for their action unless of course we want to encourage a race to the bottom for everyone other than the powerful and further widen the shameful and damaging gap between rich and poor. Yes I know teachers are not poor but many who will be striking today alongside them are.
The Labour Party is pathetically sitting on the fence. Teachers and others are left with little option but to strike. If they don’t no one will notice, nothing will be done, our education system and public service in general will continue to suffer and our country will have to face serious consequences.
Not only do I support the action that my wife and my daughter are taking. I am proud of them.

As is my custom, if someone asks for copies of my sermon notes I stick em up on my Scribd page, just in case anyone else might want to go get 'em. This weekend I preached two different sermons from the same passage. Yesterday was the ordination service of one of our students, John Thompson, at Princes Drive Baptist Church in Colwyn Bay. We read John 2:1-11, the wedding at Cana, and I used the the story to highlight
lessons about the nature of ministry. This morning I was preaching at my own church, Chorlton Central in Manchester and read
a scripted imaginative retelling of the same story, from the perspective of watching angels. Anyhow, as I said, if you want the notes pop across to Scribd and help yourself.
Back in the day I posted a blog about meeting God on Market Street in Manchester. That encounter prompted me to develop some material on Urban Spirituality for our MA course on Spirituality in Contemporary Culture. This in turn spawned a framework for a half-day city centre retreat which has been taken up by friends and students for use in Prague, Stockholm and Birmingham.
This week here at Luther King House we've been teaching the Spirituality module on our MA Summer School. We ran the city centre retreat again. It got lots of positive feedback from the students. It also gifted me with another unexpected encounter with Jesus.
I wasn't actually doing the retreat myself this time but I was in the city, buying bread and wine for the communion on the street that would round off the day. I was making my way through the Northern Quarter on my way to Methodist Central Hall for our retreat debrief when God's Spirit beckoned me into a seedy night club back entrance. I like to use back streets whenever I can. It makes walking more of an adventure. I'm not sure what The Spirit used to grab my attention, in fact I haven't a clue, but I found myself walking over to take a peek.

And there, in a stinking, piss-soaked door-well was Jesus. (Apologies if the word
piss upsets you, I don't mean to offend, it's just that neither
wee nor
urine are quite up to the job.)
I realise this is a rather kitsch Jesus, but I was in the Northern Quarter where they do kitsch rather well. So it sort of fit. It also fit because it seems to me it's just the kind of place you'd expect to see Jesus. Or at least the kind of place where you ought to expect him. How fitting too that he'd been defaced. They'd scrubbed out the word love. Or at least they'd tried to. True the letters had been erased but the word's still there don't you think? Again, it's the only word that really fits.
... he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by others; a man of suffering and acquainted with infirmity; and as one from whom others hide their faces he was despised, and we held him of no account.
Surely he has borne our infirmities and carried our diseases; yet we accounted him stricken, struck down by God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed.
Lord, we pray for all who use that door-way. And we pray for ourselves. Please beckon us into uninviting places. Meet us there and open our eyes. And if need be our nostrils. Amen

Kick Off
September fresh we start again,
by early
autumn nipped to ruddy life.
New season’s paint has reddened smooth
my
fragrant iron resting place.
The terrace choir’s achant,
brown baritone
and tenor bright.
And holy Bruno climbs from briar censers
as Bovril salts my tongue.
And there you stand:
Brylcream-slicked and shiny-shoed,
your china-blues ablaze,
your Woodbine-yellowed fingers
shoveled
thick and calloused
kindly holding me.
And I,
thrilled by bigness smalling me,
otherness calling me,
Gifted, belonging and beckoned on,
I know from you I will not run for fancied wealth
to slops
nor break my bonds for freedom-false but
rest content
and dream of what will one day be.
Then, as pigeons flap from floodlight frame
and, haloed, hover,
echoes down the years:
“This is my
beloved
in whom I am,
in whom I am
well,
in whom I am,
well, pleased.”

This news just out from the learning community with whom I minister ...
Tim is currently Senior Minister of Grantham Baptist
Church, Lincolnshire where he has served for nearly sixteen years.
Previously he was pastor of a church in Westerham, Kent. Before training for
ministry at Spurgeon’s College he was a secondary school teacher. He holds
biology and theology degrees, including a PhD in ecology, and is just
completing an MTh in Applied Theology. Tim says, “I am delighted to be able to
serve NBLC in this new role. I’m looking
forward to working alongside the other members of staff team.”
According to Dianne Tidball, governor of
NBLC and Regional Minister Team Leader in the East Midlands,
“Tim has been a good local minister, serving his church and enabling it to be an
outward looking community centred on Christ. He has served the
Association well particularly on our Ministry Development Group. He will
be missed but we wish him God's richest blessing in his new role.”
This is NBLC’s third recent staff
appointment. Clare McBeath and Glen Marshall
were called to be co-principals just three weeks ago. Both said how delighted they were that Tim
will be joining the new staff team adding,
“Tim combines a wealth of experience with an engaging style of teaching.”
Dr. Mountain will begin his new ministry in
August. As well as teaching at Luther King House in Manchester
he will also act as NBLC’s main link with the churches and associations of Yorkshire and the East Midlands.
Thought I'd mark the advent today of the government's spending cuts by reposting something I penned back in 2010. It's about the importance of the Christian Church speaking out on behalf of the poor. It's been good to see The Archbishop of Canterbury, The Pope and The Joint Public Issues Team
of the Free Churches rising to the challenge. But I thought that on
this day of all days a reminder to the rest of us wouldn't go amiss ...
All together now:
I will speak out for those who have no voices
I will stand up for the rights of all the oppressed
I will speak truth and justice
I'll defend the poor and the needy
I will lift up the weak in Jesus' name
Or if you prefer:
I, the Lord of wind and flame,
I will tend the poor and lame.
I will set a feast for them.
My hand will save.
I
wonder if you ever sing either of these hymns. If so I do hope you
won’t allow David Cameron and Nick Clegg to turn you into a hypocrite.
You
see it looks like we are in for a period when the attention of the
media will be, as ever, on the antics of the rich and famous (not least,
following last week’s announcement, the royally rich and famous.) [This a reference to the announcement of the engagement of Prince William and Kate Middleton.]
Meanwhile hundreds of thousands of the not nearly so rich and the
nowhere near as famous will, largely unnoticed, be struggling to cope as
their jobs are snatched away and their benefits slashed.
“Oh
dear” I hear you say, “this is getting a bit political.” Well, yes,
but my purpose in raising this is not to debate the minutiae of
government fiscal policy. I’m not sure that an economics A level from
1978 is sufficient qualification to pronounce on the relative merits of
Keynes and Friedman as gurus for hard times. Instead I’m going to stick
to what I know.
I reckon I’m on safe ground when I
tell you that thirty five years of reading the Bible has lead me to the
conclusion that Jesus is not very fond of hypocrisy. And make no
mistake it will be the rankest of rank hypocrisy if in coming years the
church in this country continues to sing its hymns of solidarity and
preach its sermons on God’s care for poor while keeping stum about the
impact of legislation on the lives of the most vulnerable. It would
also be somewhat less than satisfactory for us to follow the all too
familiar path of sticking to escapist praise songs and ignoring awkward
Bible passages.
For the purposes of this column whether
you voted Tory, Labour, Lib Dem or Monster Raving Looney is not really
my concern. My point is that as Christians we all belong to a political
party that has as one of the main planks of its platform a policy that
is set firmly against passing by on the other side. Ever since the good
Samaritan did his stuff we have declared care-less neglect of the
battered and the bruised to be a bad thing. And those who shoot their
mouths off about how the world should be run really ought to try and
muster up at least an ounce or two of consistency.
We
can agree on that can’t we? That the church ought to be speaking out on
behalf of those whom the majority of society would rather ignore? That
we should be trying to wrestle the spotlight away from princes and
prima donnas, nudging it instead towards those upon whom God’s eye
rests?
If not, perhaps it’s time to call an end to the
party. At the very least we should take our scissors to our Bibles and
attack our hymn projection software with the delete button. The
Magnificat for instance, and all those songs based upon it, should be
left on the cutting room floor this Christmas. True, the bland and
anaemic version of Christianity with which we would be left is a rather
distasteful thing, but not nearly as nauseating a full blown hypocrisy.
This piece originally appeared in The Baptist Times and is reproduced here with permission of the editor.


I've just uploaded some new stuff to
Scribd. I do this form time when people ask me for copies of notes from lectures, sermons etc. The first piece is an article on
Missional Ecclesiology raising some questions about the theology and practice of missional church practitioners. This first saw light as a lecture to a group of European Baptist theology teachers in the Ukraine back in July 2012. It had a reincarnation as part of our 1st Tuesday series of public lectures at
Luther King House in November 2012. The version here was published in the Journal of European Baptist Studies (Volume 13, Number 2). I am grateful to the editorial board for permission to publish it in this format.
There are also notes from three sermons on Luke 4 originally preached at the Baptist Assembly in Scotland in October 21012. The first is entitled
What's He Up To? and looks at Jesus' own sense of mission; the second is entitled
Which Side Is He On? and deals with Luke's presentation of Jesus' boundary busting approach to mission; number three,
Who's The Daddy?, is a reminder that our participation in the ongoing mission of Jesus must include pointing to him as Son of God. If you want you can also get an audio file of each sermon over at the
Baptist Assembly in Scotland web site.
Finally there are notes for a sermon on the preaching of John the Baptist in
Luke chapter three. The sermon was preached at Luther King House chapel on December 11th, 2012.
I know this looks like nothing more than shameless self promotion which is not the case. It is of course at least in part a bit of brass-necked-look-at-me-ism (which blog isn't?) but it is more than that, honest. I only stick up here stuff that people seem to have appreciated. Generally it's also stuff for which I've received requests for notes. So really it's better to think of what I'm doing as selfless public service.
There's more than a small chance that the sermon notes won't be of much use to those who didn't hear the original. They tend to be a bit on the sparse side, fleshed out for publication somewhat from what I actually take into the pulpit with me but nonetheless well short of a full script (apart that is for the third of the Luke 4 sermon notes which for some mysterious reason ended as the fullest notes I think I've ever used.)
Anyhow if you think they might of help click the links above or head to Scribd via the box in the side bar to the right and down a bit. If you dont' think they'll be any help you've probably stopped reading by now.