thinking mission

and then there are the good days...

Its been a good day today with two announcements coming together to mark what could be significant changes of emphases for BMS in the future.

The first establishes a joint post for mission development in Scotland, jointly funded by the Baptist Union of Scotland and ourselves. I'm really looking forward to working with Judy White as we harness insights and challenges from mission in the UK and further afield and apply those insights in Scotland and beyond.  And simultaneously we want to go on harnessing that energy for continuing the great Scottish tradition of world mission endeavour.  You can read of Judy’s appointment here.

The second announcement is more low key but thats only because the discussions underway are still relatively new.  But here’s the text of a statement that’s been sent out today concerning an intentional conversation between Bristol Baptist College and ourselves.  You can  Download The press release here and I'll let it speak for itself as to the intent behind it.

What both of these announcements have in common is a recognition that our world is changing, and amongst the many implications of these changes is the recognition that new alliances and more efficient use of resources are a must if we are to be a missionary people whose task begins in our own back yard and reaches to the nations.  

This isn't new of course.  I have long quoted Lesslie Newbigin's 1986 call for "a genuinely missionary encounter of the gospel with our culture". But for sure, there is a renewed energy behind the conversation in these days. 

Most readers of the various Baptist blogs will be aware that there is much change afoot. The tectonic plates underfoot are shifting, of that there is no doubt.  And depending on how you're wired, or how immediately you may be affected, these 'moving plates' can trigger adrenaline or induce fear.  Neither of these reactions is wrong - they're just natural.

As the necessary debate gets underway, my hope is that anything written or said will be done sensitively.  Its just too easy to tear down - its harder to build up.  Let's be aware that we are not in the bear pit that is the House of Commons, generating heat but little light, nor in the corporate boardroom where people know the price of everything and the value of nothing.  

It must not be our vision-casting alone that is seasoned by the Holy Spirit, but also our deliberations.  If these honour God then the vision we dare to dream may also honour God. Yes, there will be change and there will be a frank assessment of our strengths and weaknesses.  Hard things may have to be said, and reckoned with.  But let us do so in a way that is befitting a people who are encouraged by Jesus to love one another.  So far, I'm encouraged that this will be the case.

David Kerrigan

exhausted from sorrow

On Friday morning last week our staff met for prayer, this time led by our mission department.  I was tired, and I had a huge amount to do, but I went.  I didn’t seriously consider not going but I know the difference between “I ought to go” and “I really want to go.”  This was an ought, but don’t tell anyone 

Least of all Sarah, who had organised different stations around the room, with verses that picked up on the prayers of Jesus in Luke’s gospel.  We were encouraged to spend the time quietly and move around the different parts of the room.  I went to the first one, sat down and read these words: “When he rose from prayer and went back to the disciples, he found them asleep, exhausted from sorrow.” (Luke 22:45) I didn’t move on.  This was where I needed to be 

Now, this is the advent season, so why am I taking us to the scenes that belong more to Holy Week?  Well, let’s make a connection.  You see, I had never ‘seen’ those words before. Of course, I have read this passage many times.  I know the story well, and I knew they fell asleep because they couldn’t stay awake.  But I had never seen that they were exhausted from sorrow. 

Fast forward a couple of millennia, and arguably much of the world today is what the disciples were then – exhausted from sorrow.  That may not be your experience, but it is the experience of many who long to live their lives in peace and tranquillity, with a reasonable dollop of hope, yet circumstances mean they cannot do so. 

They long to live in such a way that they feel secure, that their kids can get a half-decent education, or see a doctor reasonably easy when they’re sick.  They long to see jobs out there that their children can aim for.  They’re fearful lest their pension, if they have one at all, isn't enough to live on.

They want to know how they can be free from the sin that niggles away from their conscience and the despair that sucks the joy out of their very marrow.  

They may want to know what life is about, and given half the chance they may even want to know if there is a God at all, let alone one that loves them.

And that’s the link to Advent because the primary response to these feelings, yearnings, hopes and frustrations is not a philosophy, and certainly not a political agenda nor a development programme.

The answer is a person, one who enters the human story the way we enter the story, as a babe.  And the significance is that from that starting point as an infant he embodies (good word in this context) all our stories.   

So if we want to know how to start, then start at Christmas for it’s the part of the divine story that almost all people understand.  That’s why Carol services and once-in-a-year church attendance are OK.  People come – drawn by something they can’t quite name.

Ordinary people.  Exhausted people.  People exhausted from sorrow. 

David Kerrigan

(From http://hopefulimagination.blogspot.com )