thinking mission

charlie hebdo revisited

The terrorist attack on the offices of Charlie Hebdo magazine came as yet another shocking example of the impact of Islamic fundamentalistm on today's world. Nothing, absolutely nothing that offends us justifies murder. Admittedly that is a Western value, but it is one we would defend at all costs.  Whether its New York, Bali, Nairobi, London, Mumbai, Boston, Sydney or any other location where attacks have taken place - nothing justifies the murder of innocent people.

But this evening, not for the first time, a deep unease has come over me.  In September 2012 after Charlie Hebdo published cartoons that were inflammatory and offensive to millions of Muslims, I wrote about the limits of freedom of speech. You can read that post here [what price free speech?] and I’d invite you to do so. 

I stand by what I wrote. Back then I beieved innocent men and women would die because of their publications. What I didn't anticipate was that the victims would be the publishers themselves. I deplore that they have been killed and the world is a poorer place because evil has again manifested itself.  They had the right to publish.

But freedom of speech has limits. Some of this is enshrined in law. I don't have the right to be hateful, racist, sexist, libelous or homophobic. Nor can I disclose State secrets.

And apart from these legal limitations, there have to be self-imposed limitations. I can't speak offensively to my next door neighbour and expect them to remain friends, to be there when I need help, or for them to greet me cheerfully the following morning.  If I deliberately provoke my neighbour in ways that may not be illegal but are deeply offensive, and eventually they snap, is it not permissible to ask whether my actions were right?  Further, what kind of neighbour does that make me?  Am I a shining example of someone building up my community?

Tonight, more than once, I have heard it said that these cartoons were aimed at satirising radical Islam.  Maybe so, but they offended millions of ‘ordinary’ Muslims too, many of whom cannot now say they are offensive because first they have to line up and be heard to condemn the killers. If they even attempt to ask whether there are limits to free speech they risk being branded as the enemy within.   Muslims are caught in no-mans land between allegiance to their faith, and their desire to live in Western society.  Of course they need to make accommodations for that, and they do.  But is it not part of what it means to be a civilised society to do what we can to help them live here in peace.

The question I posed in 2012, and pose today in the wake of the Paris murders, is whether the freedom of speech that we claim we value, is best honoured simply by being offensive?  I would rather we use our freedom of speech to challenge the tyranny of all that condemns millions to poverty, that constructs systems embodying injustice that blight the lives of whole generations, that prevents multitudes of people from accessing medical care and education and the freedom to live in peace. But too often we in the West are complicit in these injustices and so we look elsewhere for easier targets.

We are living in a generation when a cancerous corruption of Islam has emerged in the guise of fundamentalist or radical Islam. I want no accommodation to this vile perversion of so-called faith that has  shown itself capable of no more than depraved violence. 

But I believe we have been handed a most wonderful gift – its called freedom of speech.

It’s ours.  It’s yours. Here – take it! Use it. But use it well for it is truly a precious thing.

David Kerrigan

 

the pain of separation

So, the Evangelical Alliance and Oasis have parted company.  EA have taken the initiative and have “discontinued the membership of Oasis Trust” and have done so on the grounds that the Trust was “unwilling to fulfil the council’s request to adjust the content of their website/resources and social media output to equally profile the traditional Christian view” on human sexuality. 

The parting of the ways has been handled as well as it could be. When the EA Council states that they “remain deeply respectful of the work and achievements of the Oasis Trust and have a strong desire to avoid any unseemly dispute and to speak well of each other” I wholeheartedly believe them. 

The important issue at hand, I suggest, is not today’s press release (‘tomorrow’s chip paper’) but the implication for that part of God’s church for whom EA and Oasis are ‘our neighbours’, those of us who call ourselves evangelicals. 

Let us not be naïve – there isn't a goodie and a baddie here. There is, instead, a certain inevitability that flows from diverse views being expressed within a creedal network, on how we engage with a world that has changed, and is changing, rapidly.

Evangelicalism has many strengths – I speak as someone who is metaphorically a card-carrying Evangelical – it is the tradition that has primarily nurtured me over the years, though it is not the only one. 

But Evangelicalism also has it's weaknesses, not least its propensity to draw boundaries, with the inevitable rejection of, or separation from, those whose interpretation of the faith is different.

I am a Baptist Christian and an evangelical. There are Baptist Christians who are not evangelicals and whose theology is very different to mine. I’m comfortable with that.  I enjoy fellowship with such brothers and sisters and I learn much from them. I see no need, nor have no wish to separate.  Is this because I am wishy-washy? Devoid of conviction?

No. Its because Baptists – well, most Baptists – have historically eschewed creedal statements, having been birthed in persecution and therefore wishing to avoid creating a kind of doctrinal standard against others will be weighed in the balance.   

Rather, as the Union of which I am an accredited minister so helpfully states in it’s Declaration of Principle:   

1. That our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, God manifest in the flesh, is the sole and absolute authority in all matters pertaining to faith and practice, as revealed in the Holy Scriptures, and that each Church has liberty, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, to interpret and administer His laws.

2. That Christian Baptism is the immersion in water into the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, of those who have professed repentance towards God and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ who 'died for our sins according to the Scriptures; was buried, and rose again the third day'. 

3. That it is the duty of every disciple to bear personal witness to the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and to take part in the evangelisation of the world.

The primary focus on Jesus Christ (which EA  believe in too by the way - its just that membership is based on creedal affirmation) is more than a form of words – it is a reminder that the One around whom we gather is infinitely more valuable as a standard for fellowship and cooperation than our humanly constructed (even when Spirit-inspired) doctrines and convictions.  

In the words of the old chorus -

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face,
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
In the light of His glory and grace.

This is why I believe Baptists have the opportunity to hold these tensions together.  I know we can. I hope we will. 

David Kerrigan 

how big is our welcome?

Yesterday was marked in hundreds of our churches as 'The Big Welcome', sponsored by BUGB and others, and an excellent initiative.  But the issue of welcome is not about one Sunday in September, its about our underlying orientation to today’s generation. 

One of my deepest convictions is that nothing, absolutely nothing, should get in the way of enabling people to encounter Jesus. Superficially, that's an easy statement to agree with but history tells us it can be hard to put it into practice. 

From the beginning, the disciples wanted to keep the children away.  Then the Pharisees wanted to keep the sinners away.  As the church developed, the clergy preferred to keep the laity away, and their doctrine kept the women away.

When disputes arose, the church divided – often – and to this day some branches of the church keep others away, believing them to be unsound or unsaved.

Today when we celebrate communion we keep the unconverted away, and although we say we welcome everyone into our churches, and often we really mean it, our actions and our words do not always convey that welcome to those whose lives do not pass our litmus test. 

We don’t mean to be unwelcoming.  If anything our devotion to Christ seems to drive us to make sure that any who come are worthy of coming.  Its as if we forget that no-one is worthy, least of all ourselves.

Today, we have to conclude that fewer and fewer people are finding the church an attractive, or attracting community.  As a result, many Christians are asking questions about the essence of the gospel and how well we communicate it. This blog has often been my faltering attempt to do just that. Let me tell you why.

Although I grew up in a devout Christian family, I reached my late teens and early 20s desperately searching for a fresh encounter with God. When it came it wasn't because someone told me I was a sinner in need of forgiveness - I instinctively knew that. What won my heart was the experience of a very ordinary local Baptist church who accepted me as I was, and where the worship of the people and the preaching of the Word exalted Jesus to such heights that my whole being was drawn to him like iron to a magnet.  It was as wonderful as it was unstoppable!

From this personal experience came a lifelong desire that no-one should be denied the opportunity of experiencing the magnetic field that emanates from Jesus and which captured my heart and mind.

Over the years my preaching, teaching, and writing have been a consistent reflection of this conversion experience.  I've found myself telling people, many times, that we can face the people and major on the fact that they’re sinners in need of Christ (and there's a time and place for that) or we can turn 180 degrees and face Christ and major on how loving and accepting he was, especially to those who did not feel they deserved his compassion.

To put it simply, our emphasis can be on the sinful nature of people, or it can be on the beauty of Christ and the availability of his love and grace.

Either way is incomplete without the other. The question is one of emphasis, of sequence, of priority, of language, of tone – and we haven’t always got those right.

There is a growing movement today to re-examine how we present the gospel.  I don’t believe that people are trying to change the core truths of the faith but rather they are committed to presenting a more compassionate, more grace-full, more Christ-like face to an unbelieving world. 

I believe with all my heart that this is a move of God's spirit in our generation.  Like all such movements into which God invites to participate and make our contribution, we will not get everything right.  Grace and understanding will be required as we have seen in sensitive debates earlier this year.

And if this is a movement of God's Spirit, it's echo will be heard far beyond our small part of the worldwide church.  Maybe the words of Pope Francis this week (full text here) are a sign that the breath of God's Spirit is blowing in that most conservative of institutions.

Appealing for a more balanced presentation of the gospel, less 'obsessed' with a focus on a narrow range of issues, Pope Francis said that "the ministers of the Church must be ministers of mercy above all". Amen!  We are not to be gatekeepers or rule-keepers deciding who can come close to Jesus.  We are to be ministers of mercy.

And with surprising honesty considering the numerical strength of the Catholic communion he reminded people of the welcoming nature of the gospel: "this Church with which we should be thinking is the home of all, not a small chapel that can hold only a small group of selected people. We must not reduce the bosom of the universal Church to a nest protecting our mediocrity." 

Is our welcome unconditional?  The welcome of Jesus certainly was. 

David Kerrigan

how far is too far?

The challenge of the contextualisation of the gospel is not be feared.  In fact it is one of the greatest gifts we have.  The Christian faith demands to be contextualised, and is made capable of such contextualisation because of the dynamic at work at its heart.

From the outset, God contextualised his approach to humankind, through language and imagery, personal encounter and revelation. 

The incarnation of Jesus is of course the epitome of contextualisation.  Jesus enters our world, on our terms, alongside us in all things.  Well, not exactly all things – for his sinlessness reminds us that contextualisation is not the same of identification, for the presence of God will always challenge people and cultures to recognise their need to be transformed into the likeness of God and his Kingdom.

The goal of contextualisation therefore is to enable Jesus, as far as it is possible, to be authentically experienced in every human situation.  That human situation comprises the worldview of the person or community.  So, for example Jesus was embraced as a rabbi by many of the Jewish people, and amongst them were those who suspected he was the long-promised Messiah.  Their Jewish worldview meant they were open to such a person entering their world. 

Women experienced Jesus as distinctly counter-cultural, and they welcomed that.  Why wouldn’t they! And so did all manner of outcast and sinners. But amongst those for whom that culture had been favourable, many felt threatened.  

Rich people walked away downcast because they did not accept the Lordship of Christ.  Other rich people, amongst them women, supported the ministry of Jesus.  The issues isn’t riches, it’s the love of riches. 

Outwardly sinless people were labelled as hypocrites, yet outwardly sinful people were contrite and were restored.

Worldview, or context, is everything. Announcing Jesus as the Messiah to a bunch of Harley-Davidson bikers is likely to have little impact.  But a prisoner might need to hear the gospel as that which forgives and gives a second chance.  A trafficked woman can hear of the God who welcomed women and restored their dignity. Nations that are powerful need to hear of the dangers of hubris, while the downtrodden will hear good news about the God of small things.

So, in one sense there is no such thing as a simple gospel.  The gospel is a fluid thing, subversive, changing shape, finding its way into cracks and crevices and from there, challenging and embracing in sometimes equal measure. The gospel will embrace aspects of culture not embodied in the gospel imported from elsewhere, but it will also challenge that same culture where the Lordship of Christ is ignored or undervalued.

The messenger therefore needs to recognise that the baggage they carry is more than the simple gospel.  Their ‘shaped-by-my-culture’ understanding of the gospel can, if we’re not careful, deny new insights that might emerge from other cultures have not yet seen.  For example, a western worldview doesn’t allow much room for miracles – and that baggage is easily imparted to others. Conversely, those who read the bible afresh, and from a culture where the reality of the spirit world is readily embraced, may well conclude that God answers our prayers, and often with miracles, and so pray for healing as routine. 

Looking back

There was much to celebrate in the missionary movement of the 18th and 19th centuries.  We can see that there were real attempts at contextualisation, long before the concept was ever conceived.  Reducing local languages to script and translating the Bible were major steps in allowing the gospel to take root in new soil. But there were also blind spots.  African converts dressed as quintessential Englishmen and women, as well as the building of churches with pulpits, pews and spires betray a cultural blindness alongside a desire to share the gospel.

But in spite of shortcomings, and encouraged by brave pioneers, amongst them some BMS missionaries, the converted slaves of the Jamaican plantations found in Scripture the mandate for their own freedom, and they fought for it.  The fight was theirs and the victory too. 

More recently in Latin America in the 1970s, where the need for contextualisation was first recognised and named, the social strictures of poverty and powerlessness left people yearning for freedom.  And along came the gospel, sown in Latin soil, tilled by the priests who lived alongside the underclass, and through their eyes and out of their worldview they discovered a theology of liberation.  No powerful elite was going to offer that to the masses!  It wasn’t perfect but it was utterly radical.

These things are not just issues of yesteryear.  We export our theology today through powerful global Christian publishing houses, when otherwise excellent material such as ‘Purpose Driven…’ or Alpha can, if we’re not careful, be vehicles for stunting the development of truly indigenous theology.  Even worse, the ubiquitous tele-evangelists on satellite channels around the world, owing more to showbiz and money-making than the life of Jesus, so often register zero on the contextualisation meter!

So, how far is too far?

Firstly, we are too far away from a contextualised gospel if we fail to engage with the particularities of the human condition in any given culture.  The Bible certainly speaks a universal word to all of humanity that entails God’s creation, humanity’s fallenness, God’s salvation plan, the cross and resurrection and eschatological hope. 

But this universality does not mean that the gospel is uni-dimensional, or simple.  Some will argue that the gospel calls for repentance and faith as means of salvation, but is not designed to deal with issues of poverty and justice.  Many evangelicals held this view until the 1970s and it was John Stott’s major contribution to evangelical theology that he reminded us of the need to care for the poor, the widow and the outcast. 

To adopt a ‘scripture is simple’ stance in terms of our understanding of human sexuality, or creation-science, or a hundred other disciplines is to say that the insights of science and the humanities have little or nothing to add to our understanding of the bible.

But conversely, we are too far away from a contextualised gospel, in the opposite direction, if we focus so exclusively on contextualising scripture that we forget the message of the cross. Yes, the human condition is an offence to God and in many respects a product of our making. And yes, it is vital that our faith results in us working for the overturning of injustice and the betterment of human life.  But the bible can never be reduced to a political manifesto.  At the heart of the gospel is a spiritual diagnosis that reckons with the seriousness of sin, and the efficacy of the cross.  If our focus on culture neglects engagement with the sin that separates us from God, we are just one more political party.    

Besides we will have disempowered the gospel in its ability not just to embrace culture but also to challenge it. Holding these things together gives us both things that we need.  We have a contextual gospel, but it is still The Gospel – good news for a broken world.

David Kerrigan 

(First Published at www.bmsworldmission.org/catalyst) 

ignorance is not an option

With the visit of President Barack Obama to Israel-Palestine this week, understanding something of the background to one of the world’s most complex situations is of paramount importance.  The latest issue of Mission Catalyst looks at aspects of the history and theology that weave together to produce today’s ongoing crisis.  My Catalyst editorial is reproduced here.

“The last 110 years has seen a major migration of Jewish people to the land of Palestine.  This came about following centuries of hatred and persecution in Europe, culminating in one of the greatest sins in human history, the holocaust, and the extermination of 6 million men, women and children with unbelievable barbarity. 

This migration led to the creation of the State of Israel, and over the course of those years the Palestinian Arabs who lived in the land for centuries became increasingly marginalised, and many would say persecuted.  Arabs are mainly Muslim, but most of the Christians in the region are also Arabs, and amongst them are many with whom we at BMS are privileged to partner.

Israel enjoys broad support from the West, born of post-holocaust sympathy and guilt, and the desire for this never to happen again.  But there are also geo-political realities. Israel is an indispensible ally to the West, and especially the US, in a region where most of the world’s oil comes from. 

Moreover, in the USA there is an influential Jewish lobby who will protest against any American Government who adopts anything other than pro-Israel policies.

Finally, there is the theological system known as Christian Zionism, especially strong in the United States amongst right-wing Republican Christians, and the focus of this edition of Catalyst (Issue 2 2013).

Though there are many variations, broadly Christian Zionism sees the return of the Jewish people to the Holy Land, and the re-creation of the State of Israel as the fulfilment of biblical prophecy and a necessary precursor to the return of Christ.  Many see the State of Israel as coterminous with the Israel of the Bible therefore anything that curtails Israel’s occupation of the land is working against God’s purposes. 

Christian Zionism stems from the work of John Nelson Darby in the 19th century, and his dispensational theology, which argued that Christ would return when Israel was gathered in.  On Christ’s return the rapture would occur – believers would be taken and others would be left behind to face the tribulation.  This system was popularised through the extensive use of the Schofield reference bible, and in the US in the 1970s in the influential but largely discredited “Left Behind” series of books by Tim LaHaye.

So, our questions. How are we to understand modern day Israel in the light of Scripture, not least passages such as Romans 9-11? Though the Jewish people have suffered monstrously through the years, what is to be said about today’s persecution of the Palestinian population? What would peace, justice and security look like both for the Palestinians and for Israel?

In the pages of this edition of Catalyst (linked above) you’ll find the voice of a Christian Zionist, and another who opposes Christian Zionism.  You’ll hear a Palestinian Arab brother in Christ, and a Jewish Messianic sister in Christ, a respected Israeli secular historian and the voice of a Jewish Rabbi who loves his people, loves his homeland yet longs for justice for the Palestinians people. 

Read these, then in the years to come, read some more.  Ignorance is not an option".

David Kerrigan 

of heretics, jews and turks

Most people dislike controversies, but even in church life they are inevitable from time to time.  When you care deeply about theological or ethical matters, then you’ll argue your corner and others will argue theirs.  Such is life. 

Steve Chalke’s recent contribution to the debate about the stance of the evangelical church towards the gay community is a current hot topic.  And because Steve is a Baptist Minister, this has an immediacy for Baptists and so I would like to commend important Baptist principles that ought to help us handle this matter.

In doing so I am aware that today it is consider passé to say that ‘most of the people in our churches are not Baptists’.  By that we mean that for one reason or another, many people who have not grown up in a Baptist church, or studied Baptist principles, have nonetheless found a local Baptist church their spiritual home and they have settled there.  Given that most, I believe, would be relatively unaware of our heritage, (here I'd challenge pastors to ask themselves whether, over a period of time, their sermons contain enough theology) it is important at a time like this to remind people why Baptists are who they are and what that has to do with handling theological debate.

In the year 2000, a short book entitled Doing Theology in a Baptist Way (Whitley Publications, Oxford) was published with contributions from four of our then college principals, Paul Fiddes, Brian Haymes, Richard Kidd and Michel Quicke.

Brian Haymes writes* of his understanding of the core of Baptist Identity as being 

“the gathered church, the priesthood of all believers, the absolute authority of God in Christ, believers’ baptism, the call to faithful corporate discipleship, and religious freedom.” (P2) 

This last point, the plea for religious freedom, takes us to the beginning of our 400-year-old Baptist story and the cry of Thomas Helwys, addressed personally to King James, for freedom from the coercion of the State and the coercion of the ecclesiastical powers of the day.  This freedom cry was contained in his publication A Short Declaration of the Mystery of Iniquity. His call was, in large measure, for the freedom to read the scriptures for themselves, and together to discern the mind of Christ. 

It is for this reason that Baptists recognise no magisterium or hierarchy to tell us what we must believe, and why Baptists have no formal creeds or statements of faith.  For Helwys, so deep-seated was this call for freedom that for him it extended beyond Baptists, even beyond the Christians faith:

‘For our lord the king is but an earthly king, and he has no authority as a king but in earthly causes. And if the king’s people be obedient and true subjects, obeying all human laws made by the king, our lord the king can require no more. For men’s religion to God is between God and themselves. The king shall not answer for it. Neither may the king be judge between God and man. Let them be heretics, Turks, Jews, or whatsoever, it appertains not to the earthly power to punish them in the least measure’. (Helwys, Mystery of Iniquity)

So freedom of religion is a key principle that should govern our response to theological debate. And in due time the community will make its discernment.  

So, for example there are those within the denomination who believe that Scripture does not permit women to teach but they are not asked to leave, even though the long-established position of the denomination is that men and women are considered equally qualified to teach and hold the role of pastor.  Similarly, we have different views on what the authority of scripture actually means, different approaches to communion and baptismal practice, and so on.  We live with this diversity and at best we are richer because of it, at worst we tolerate it. I will return to address the lmits of such freedom in a moment. 

This freedom motif that I have stressed here is only one of those above* that Haymes notes as contributing to Baptist Identity.  But it is of special note in the present context. Haymes goes further in suggesting four ways in which our Baptist identity affects the way Baptists do theology: the underlinings here are mine to bring out the key points I want to stress: 

firstly, because Baptists eschew authoritative creeds, and because each church has liberty in the Spirit to interpret and administer Christ’s laws, “then each new generation must work at its theology as reflection upon practice”

secondly, because the church is gathered into being by God, theological discernment must be done in the community of the gathered church.  “We bring our theological reflections to the test of others, and not just other theologians, but the whole people of God.”

thirdly, Haymes argues that to keep theology alive, it is not enough for theology simply to shape our life (though it must) but life must then be reflected back in order to renew our theology.  Reflection is therefore two-way - from theology to practical living; from practical living back to theology.  Drawing on the work of the late American Baptist theologian James McClendon, Haymes affirms McClendon’s rejection of “a dull ‘biblicism’, an imprisonment in the understanding and practices of the past as ‘word’ becomes fixed…”

fourthly, “since all authority in heaven and on earth is given to Jesus Christ, then all our theologies must have a provisionality about them… Hence, in Baptist theology, there will be a recognition of plurality and we shall be properly wary of those who wish to squeeze us into their own mould”. (pp3-5)

Now, these principles do not of themselves support or undermine either side in the current debate, but they do establish a principle, and I believe it to be a Baptist principle, that at times of controversy and debate we will be at our best when we step back, and create the safe and healthy space where the debate can be respectfully undertaken.  The outcome may simply be a reaffirmation of the status quo but we should never fear that new truths may yet emerge from “the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God! (Rom 11:33)  

It is both unhelpful and inaccurate to declare that the raising of a controversial matter is a sure sign that we are drifting towards the rocks.

Of course I must be fair.  There are limits to such freedom.  If a pastor openly denied the divinity of Christ, and preached such, this would be in direct contradiction to the Declaration of Principle that is the basis of the Baptist Union of Great Britain. That would be an example of my 'limits to freedom'  (I would defend the right of someone to hold such views but Voltaire got there first on that score!)  By denying a primary theological issue, the community would rightly say that to hold such views is to deny the discernment under Christ on a matter of primary importance.

But we are not talking of such primary issues – this is why I wrote recently about the need for theological contours.  Certainly the response of the church to those who are gay is a vitally important issue, and I dont want my words here to be taken to mean that our engagement with the gay community is an unimportant matter.  Nothing could be further fromn the truth.  But it is not in that narrow category of theological primacy. 

So, like many a time before, be it Acts 10, Acts 15, or the church’s changed positions in relation to slavery, women in ministry or remarriage of divorcees, careful reflection on theology and practice has yielded fresh insight on how to best live in a broken and hurting world. 

Nearly three years ago I wrote about rediscovering our radical Baptist roots, and it's interesting that Steve Chalke was mentioned there too.  If you had time to read it again – it can be found here.  Even I smiled at the relevance of what I wrote then to the present situation.  

David Kerrigan

a response to Steve Chalke's - 'a matter of integrity'

Steve Chalke’s public statement on the issue of homosexuality has inevitably ignited a firestorm of responses.  Some are positive, most so far are negative and that’s to be expected.  Most are respectful and I hope it remains that way. 

If anyone wants to be in on the debate, then do Steve the courtesy of actually reading what he said.  The longer version of his article is to be found here.

Because of the heightened nature of the debate, I feel it necessary to remind people, as others have done on their blogs, that what I express here is my own view, evidence of my own wrestling with scripture, and not a view that is representative of the mission I serve.  That can be a tricky distinction to hold on to – not for me but the reader – but I ask that you do so. 

So if I may attempt a contribution to the debate, it is from the perspective of one who makes no claims to be an academic in the technical sense of the term.  This isn't some kind of self-deprecating platitude.  I am not a biblical scholar nor a professional theologian and I need to learn from those for whom these are areas of expertise.  But like many I am a thoughtful follower of Christ and if I may draw some comfort from scripture, it was often the religious elite who got things wrong while the unassuming man or woman got things profoundly right.  So can I encourage a wider engagement with this important issue, not least from those who have a holy hunch that something needs to change and who will not be cowed by those who do know more but may not necessarily know better.  Learn – yes. But take responsibility for your own discernment.

the issue of  inclusion

I’ve written a number of times of my concern that gay people, many Christians among them, have found little reason historically to experience the church, and especially evangelical churches, as good news.  That does not mean we change our convictions in order to somehow become good news – I know that – but it does create in me a restlessness to ensure that our inherited convictions are as trustworthy as we believe them to be. Theology and ethics have developed constantly over the centuries so we must not be fearful when these convictions come under the microscope.

I have made such pleas for a radical inclusion before now, most recently in my December 2012 posts “Who’s in? Who’s out? Who decides?" and “Theological Contours” and only reference these here as an indication that what I share are not a knee jerk reaction to this week's news.

Others will comment on the biblical exegesis of various texts, or on the strengths and weaknesses of Steve Chalke’s hermeneutics.  There are characteristically robust but helpful contributions from Steve Clifford and Stephen Holmes on the EA website and so too from Malcolm Duncan though there are aspects of Malcolm’s blog that could have been better phrased and border on an attack on Steve’s integrity.   (There will be others blogs too, but it would be helpful if there were no more from people called Steve!)

I probably need to place a stake in the ground, lest others presume they know my views.  I’ve stated a few times that my views are actually quite conservative but I don’t think everyone believes me!  I just didn’t want for the debate to be about fixed theological positions, which can stifle creative imagination but about attitudes to those we seem to exclude, but I guess at this stage it will help me to try and say a little about where I stand. 

In my recent post (“Who’s in? Who’s out? Who decides?") I stated that a quest for a radical inclusion is not the same thing as saying I believe homosexuality can be viewed as some kind of equivalent but mirror-image of heterosexuality. This would be an unwarranted conclusion and flies in the face of the biblical testimony to the rootedness of heterosexuality in creation, in a way that homosexuality is not.  This male-female rootedness in creation echoes something profoundly mysterious in the very nature of God (Genesis 1:27).  This gives rise in turn to the simile of Christ to his church, and the resultant marriage / ‘bride of Christ’ metaphor (Ephesians 5).  This is the basis of my opposition to the proposed redefinition of marriage being proposed by the Government, a view I expressed in a written submission to the Government when the consultation was open late last year.  This may disappoint those who might have wondered I’d have thought otherwise but that’s my view.

the pastoral dimension

This leads me to the pastoral dimension.  There are those who will argue that to advocate celibacy to a gay man or woman is no different than the call to celibacy given to a straight man or woman who is single.  Please, can this argument be ditched and can we allow our hearts to connect to our heads.  There is a world of difference between advocating celibacy because someone hasn’t met a life partner yet, and advocating celibacy because someone is gay.  One holds out hope.  The other is a life sentence without parole.  I just do not see the equivalence here. 

Likewise I must ask my friend Stephen Holmes to reflect further, not on the theoretical concept he points to when he talks of the power of the local church as a loving community in which our deepest needs can be met, but on the practicality of the following:

“One aspect of this strikes me as very significant for the pastoral issues that Steve [Chalke], very properly, raises: the New Testament witness is that the Church - each local church - should be the community in which we find our needs for intimate human relationship met”. 

This again seems hopelessly idealistic to me.  I have been part of some wonderful churches but not one that would come close to such an ideal. A single woman longing to be married, or a single gay man longing for love and companionship may be helped, but will not find an equivalent fulfillment in the company of their house group!  In fact many single people, like many gay people, will say that the church just doesn’t know how to handle them.

the goal?

What do I see as a way forward, apart from the unsavoury destructiveness that this issue so often triggers?  As I have indicated above, my aim has never been to see the church reach the place where it can embrace homosexuality in such a way that it can treat it as equivalent to, but different from heterosexuality.  (If this is Steve’s position then I don’t agree with him, but neither do I attribute it to him – let his own words speak).  But in the absence of any other choices, could I suggest we need alternatives to consider.  For instance:

(a) I can envisage a community of God’s people that accepts and declares that we have not reached the point of seeing homosexual relationships as something it can unreservedly affirm as normative. 

(b) But out of deep pastoral concern and responsibility, and for the sake of expressing love towards those whose orientation is towards the same sex,  that same community is willing to wholeheartedly receive them into the community of faith.  They can be baptised, receive communion, and become church members as others do. 

(c) Thirdly, and this would be a change, ministers if they felt able, would be permitted to participate in civil partnership ceremonies, or be able to offer a blessing to a gay couple if their church agreed, and do so without censure.  Is it asking too much that a Baptist community that largely comprises those of a more traditional perspective create the space for those whose conscience dictates otherwise, for them to be given the liberty to minister in the light of those convictions?

(d) Lastly, there would likely be limitations we need to live with for now, for example in areas of ministry or leadership, in order to preserve the bonds of fellowship and to be consistent with (a) above. 

Some gay Christians might see this as a step forward – others might be unhappy at being treated as second-class citizens.  It’s a compromise borne of a deep desire to address this pastoral crisis. I don’t see any other options being put forward so the debate remains sterile, or becomes an all-or-nothing fight to the death. 

theology and mission

My final perspectve is a mission one, and it is mission that has been the reason I have written on these issues over the last 2-3 years.  Mission is predicated on theology, i.e. predicated on our understanding of the nature of God and the outworking of God’s purposes in the world. 

Mission, for example, is propelled by our theological understanding of God’s activity in the call of Abram in Genesis 12, the kenosis of Philippians 2, the outpouring of the Spirit in Acts 1 and so on.  Theology and Mission are like parent and child.  One begets the other.

But theology and mission have a more complex symbiotic relationship.  Theology will always shape our mission, but mission will eventually challenge our theology.  At its best, mission will in some cases go ahead of theology.  This is because our mission will take us to the frontier places where faith and unfaith meet, where God’s Kingdom encounters the Kingdoms of this world, places where our faith has to be reworked and re-examined in the light of new challenges.  Acts 10 and the encounter between Peter and Cornelius was a wonderful example of this, as was the resultant Council of Jerusalem in Acts 15. In my more familiar world of global mission, the encounter between the gospel and the caste system (India), polygamy (West Africa), secularism (the West), and Marxist analysis of poverty and injustice (Latin American liberation theologies) are examples where a missionary encounter with these phenomena demanded of the church the need to rework its theology in the light of these new encounters.

So also today we are reworking, or may need to rework our theology in the light of globalisation, genetic engineering, global warming or the phenomenon of being able to keep people alive longer but often with a much-reduced quality of life.  Into these categories there is also the overdue re-evaluation of the place of gay people within our society, and the pastoral crisis this presents to us as a church. 

If this scares or unsettles you, then I would encourage you by not underestimating the degree of change that has already taken place.  Only 45 years ago homosexuality was a crime in the UK - no Christians I know would advocate that today, but probably none but a handful raised their voices in protest in those years either.  So too, many Christians, most I speak to, accept that civil partnerships offer to gay people the legal protections that any reasonable civil society should offer. What is my point?  We’ve already changed and these things have not shaken the earth from its foundations.

To come back to Steve Chalke, I have something of a picture of what is happening here.  Its imperfect but I’ll give it a go.  I see that Steve as someone who has walked beyond the safety of the community perimeter to stand by those who are outside but who do not feel the community wants them inside unless they change.  It’s a risk to step outside – it may prove to be wrong to have done so, but it may prove to be right.  History will declare its judgement in its own time.  God already knows.  But you won’t find out by staying inside but only by taking the risk in venturing out. 

In venturing out he has challenged those in the camp to review whether the boundaries are set in the right place.   He has made his choice.   But those in the camp now have a choice as well. 

They could enlarge the boundary immediately, but that isn't going to happen and without a degree of unanimity, nor should it happen.  Those in the camp can choose to reject him for daring to suggest the camp perimeter could be enlarged.  I hope that doesn’t happen.

But they could also choose to firmly but graciously disagree, yet wish him well and pray for him as he explores this new landscape.  I hope the latter is chosen.

I hope there will be those who will stand with him, at least as encouragers.  I will for one, if only to be there as we rework that theology. 

I know I won’t agree with him on all things.  But I won’t condemn him for that.

David Kerrigan

theological contours

I live in South Oxfordshire where many of the villages are chocolate-box pretty, the land is fertile, the meandering Thames adds its own unique fingerprint and the air is clean.  Well, except when our beloved power station has a malfunction! 

But if there is something I miss its hills.  Mountains would be even better but I’d settle for hills.  Without them, the landscape is a lot less interesting.

For the last week I’ve been thinking about the concept of contours.  Not physical ones but theological ones.  This was sparked by a conversation with a pastor-friend of mine as we lamented the absence of theological contours in the minds of some.  

So what do I mean by ‘theological contours’? The Christian faith has within it many truths, but we can make the mistake that all truth is of the same order or the same importance.  For instance, I believe it to be true that Jesus was anointed at Bethany in the home of the man known as Simon the Leper.  The Bible records this as a matter of fact.  What’s not to believe? But if some new archaeological discovery gave rise to the claim that this event probably didn’t happen in Bethany after all, but in a nearby village called Bethanaius, well, lets just say I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it.

On the other hand, if someone claimed that they’d found a first century tomb with a body in it of a man who had been crucified and for some reason they were convinced it was the body of Jesus of Nazareth, then that claim would certainly be one I’d contest, for it is the most fundamental Christian conviction, based on Scripture and inspired by the Holy Spirit that Christ died for the sins of all of humanity and rose again to new life in a body that was recognised by the disciples.  Many years ago, Frank Morison’s magnificent Who moved the Stone? was the human part of the jigsaw that convinced me of the truth about the resurrection of Jesus.

But if we don’t have theological contours, then everything is on the same level.  We will defend the claims of Christ to be the eternally begotten Son of God, divine and human, crucified and risen, ascended and returning, with the same compulsion as we will defend our view of important issues such as who should receive communion, who can be baptised, the nature of ministry and maybe one day even the location of Bethanaius! 

In my last blog piece Who's in? Who's out? Who decides?  I referred to controversies regarding these matters and the resulting tendency to exclude those who viewed things differently. 

It would be a mistake to think that I’m saying ‘their views are wrong and my views are right’.  (I might be right.  I might be wrong.)  What I’m actually saying is that we can live with differences of opinion on these matters.

In the last paragraph of the post above, I stated that learning that its OK to live with those who see things differently “will require me / us to relocate our convictions into second place in order that an even higher conviction takes first place, namely the conviction that Jesus came to destroy barriers and we need to do the same.”  This is the kind of theological contouring that is needed. 

Some truths are like the Himalayan peaks – they stand like a colossus over the worldwide community of faith down through the centuries.  They rise to the heavens and they mark out the magnificence of God’s revelation to us in Christ.  

But there are other truths that are also important, though maybe not as important as those that constitute the core of our faith.  They are themselves magnificent highlands, but – well, everything isn't the same level.

If you don’t like the sound of this (“he’s relativising truth!”) ask yourself this – why is that Baptists who believe firmly that baptism should be for believers only and by full immersion are pleased to stand side-by-side with, enjoy fellowship with, and witness with those from other traditions who baptise infants?  Is it not because we accept that others have different convictions but these differences need not separate us? 

Why will most Baptist churches welcome and affirm the ministry of men and women from other traditions, even when the doctrine of priesthood in other denominations is very different from our own?  I believe we do this because there is a higher principle, namely that by our faith in the risen Christ we are all part of the Body of Christ, even if we see these nonetheless important distinctives differently.  

You see, you cant relativise truth.  Truth is an absolute.  But in the absence of a consensus over what the truth is, especially when it relates to secondary matters, we can learn to live with uncertainty. We do it already, and at our best we do it well.

There will always be theological debate and struggle, and so there should be, for it is by wrestling with the scriptures, listening deeply to one another and listening together to God that we can find new truths revealed.  As Baptists that element of communal discernment is integral to our identity.

Rather than exclude – find a compromise. Look for the best in each other.  Walk humbly and speak humbly.  Above all let love define the outworking of our faith.  That seems to befit being disciples of Jesus who said “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” (John 13:35 TNIV)

David Kerrigan

who's in? who's out? who decides?

The decision of the Church of England Synod to deny women the opportunity to be elected as bishops will be much debated in the days to come.  The debate will not be about theological convictions or biblical interpretation but about how badly the church can get things wrong. 

Its easy to dismiss those who voted to deny women the opportunity to become bishops as misogynists, or narrow-minded bigots, or worse.  I, for one, do not want to hang such labels around the necks of those who voted against the legislation, though I am remote from the raw emotions felt by women especially and I can understand their hurt and anguish, even if I cannot experience it.

But once the immediate reactions have subsided there needs to be a very serious conversation indeed, and it needs to go wider than Anglicanism. If we, as Baptists, want to be part of that debate let us at least be aware of the potential inconsistency in advocating in favour of justice for one group whilst cherishing our own reasons for excluding others. Jesus addressed this directly - “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in someone else’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? (Luke 6:41 TNIV)

Gay men and women feel excluded from most of the Christian church, including I suggest, most Baptist churches, on the grounds of their orientation.  Many of our churches have rules that exclude people from Our Communion Table.  Sorry, a slip there – The Lord’s Table.  We exclude people from church membership on the basis of our convictions about believer’s baptism.  We then exclude people from baptism because they’re cohabiting. And we exclude people from getting married in the church because one is a committed Christian and their partner isn't. 

So, if we’re going to have a conversation about injustice, just realise we will also be in the spotlight ourselves, and it wont necessarily be a comfortable experience.

I’m not saying that there are no underlying moral, ethical or theological convictions and truths, underpinning these issues – there are.  All I’m saying is that those who voted against women bishops are probably not women haters, but for whatever reason they are part of a long ecclesiastical tradition of exclusion.

We’re a part of that. I’m a part of that.  Jesus wasn’t.

So let me take a few risks here because frankly the stakes are too high not to do so.

It seems to me most gay people do not choose to be gay, that is simply how they’re wired.  I don’t pretend to understand it, but maybe one day we will.  Maybe its the same as my heterosexuality – its just the way I’m wired – or maybe its something genetic.   I know too that the issue is more complicated than blind prejudice – heterosexuality is described in scripture as part of God’s creation design in a way that homosexuality is not.  But I know how much human sexuality, gay or straight, is fallen so I am loathe to make any sweeping assertions that permanently exclude men and women whose orientation is different. 

I know too that the Bible doesn’t at first glance help us with some key verses that refer to homosexuality and I am not at liberty to set aside those verses indiscriminately.  But I do know that we routinely explain away large parts of scripture to do with food laws, what animal skins we can wear, what can and cant be done during a women’s period, head-coverings and strongly worded advice about stoning people to death. Get it?

Even that doesn’t settle the issue. I know that too!  But I ask myself what Jesus would do, and I have a fair idea that he’d challenge exclusion and welcome people to him. It wouldn’t be an unqualified welcome – none of us, gay or straight, rich or poor, black or white are beyond reproach in his presence – but I know we’d be welcomed.

Don’t stone me yet - I haven’t finished.  Most Baptist churches have an open table these days though a minority don’t. My concern is that sometimes I hear the words at the communion table spoken as if we had to protect the bread and wine from contamination by people who are not quite ready to eat and drink. Read a little more here.

Ah yes, and then there’s cohabitation.  Now you’re getting really angry because it seems like I’m saying ‘anything goes’. Not really.  All I’m saying is, how did the hymn-writer put it, “Jesus take me as I am, I can come no other way”.  For millions of young never-churched people, how will they choose to live for Jesus unless they know Jesus and how will they know Jesus unless they’re welcome in our churches?  I know the presence or absence of a welcome isn't the main deal – most people just don’t give a fig about Jesus and his church, but it would at least be a start if churches were known as welcoming places for such couples.

The point is this. All of these convictions have biblical roots, and on the whole people who hold the convictions that have the effect of locking others out are not bigots. So name-calling isn’t helpful.

What may be helpful is to see that however right we think we are, its possible, dare I say likely, that we’ve lost sight of the main thing.  We’ve hidden Jesus out of sight, protected him, defended him, safeguarded the purity of the gospel, kept ‘the world’ at a distance so we don’t get dirty, as if the world isn't the place where we eat and drink and dance and watch good movies and read great books and live and love and laugh and cry.  This is life, and it’s a gift from God, but it’s simultaneously beautiful and broken. Who gave us the right to be the gatekeepers to the one who alone offers healing and hope?

If Baptists want to say something to our Anglican brothers and sisters, then we need to show the same willingness to examine the areas of life where its our convictions, not theirs, that are in the spotlight.

That won’t be easy because it will require me / us to relocate our convictions into second place in order that an even higher conviction takes first place, namely the conviction that Jesus came to destroy barriers and we need to do the same.

David Kerrigan

more heroes needed

This has been a week for heroes.  My attention was drawn to the story of Henry V Langford (photo), someone I hadn’t heard of till his death at the age of 93 was reported in the religious newspapers in the US.  Langford supported the cause of racial equality in the 1950s and was subsequently hounded out of his church.

The Religious Herald Newspaper reported that “his life changed after he used a weekly column he wrote for the local newspaper to voice support for the 1954 Brown v. Board of Education Supreme Court ruling that declared the “separate but equal” doctrine used to support school segregation unconstitutional.”

In 2007 a resolution was passed honouring his commitment to Justice but by then life as a Pastor was no longer possible and in any case he had long reshaped his life to recover from his punishment.

This past week has seen the case of another hero brought to international attention. Malala Yousafzai is the 14 year old girl who started blogging at the age of ten about her inability to go to school because the Taliban banned girls from being educated. Her blog was reposted on the BBC Urdu site and gained worldwide attention. 

Eventually girls were allowed to go to school again, but the Taliban harbour grudges like no other and this week she was shot in the head coming home from school.  Cowardice knows no limits, or so it appears. Yesterday she arrived in the UK  for advanced treatment and we pray that her recovery will be complete.

But this is the thing about heroes.  No one is born a hero, or finds it easy to be one.  The heroes are those who know what is right and are willing to say so long before the majority comes round to the same view, by which time its safe to do so.  

When I look around at the world today, or more narrowly the church, I have to ask myself the question ‘what are the injustices that we live with today, or the things that I sense are unjust’.  The issues that one day may be seen as such by the majority but which – right now –are defended by the majority, at least by their silence or their acquiescence.  And among that majority, there I stand, silently.

For example, when a politician voiced the view last week that the limit for legal abortion might be better brought down to 12 weeks, the argument raged about whether it should be 20 weeks or 22 or 24.  I couldn’t help thinking that the day may yet come when our children’s children may say of us ‘what on earth possessed you to think that abortion was ever acceptable, at any number of weeks?  You were killing babies!’ 

You will have your suspicions about where we need to stand up and be counted and I have mine.  Would I be willing to do so when the reaction is not that you’re a hero – that comes long after you’re dead if it comes at all – but you’re no longer welcome.  Or you’re fired.  Or even fired at.

What are the areas where we need heroes to take such a stand today? And where does such courage come from?

David Kerrigan

what price free speech?

The world would be a better place if those who place such value on freedom of speech were to realise that, once gained, its highest expression can be the discipline to stay silent.  

To expend something of such value on a few bawdy cartoons, solely aimed at inflaming feelings, is to pour scorn on that which has been won at such high cost.

Just because you “can” doesn’t mean you “should”.

The high cost of freedom of speech was paid by Aung San Suu Kyi who dared to speak of the repression of her people by military dictators, accepting that for this freedom she must suffer house arrest for fifteen of the last twenty years of her life. 

The price of freedom of speech was paid by Nelson Mandela spending 18 years as he struggled on behalf of black people to claim the right to walk on the same footpaths as white people, swim on the same beaches, urinate in the same toilet block and sit on the same park bench.

Freedom of Speech was a prize of such value that it led millions of men and women to give their lives to overcome the tyranny of the Nazi party, heroes all of them, so often drawing their last breath in their teens and twenties. If that war had been lost any notion of free speech would have been gone for decades.

And, with particular reference to the current controversy, amongst them were heroes of the French Resistance such as Jean Moulin, arrested in 1940 and tortured mercilessly by Gestapo chief Klaus Barbie and others before dying in 1943 without disclosing a single thing they wanted to hear.

So let there be no doubt, freedom of speech is one of the most basic, most foundational and therefore most important human rights.  It says we are all created of equal worth, and any ordering of society, be it democracy or theocracy, republic or monarchy should not deny that right to express myself.  It’s a freedom that we so often take for granted. But it is truly a priceless treasure.

So, like Voltaire we should be willing to die for the right of the French magazine Charlie Hebdo to print their cartoons of Mohammad, whether they be offensive, vulgar, bawdy or just plain tedious.  Artistry is not the point here.

But I tell you what is the point. Men like Stephane Charbonnier, the editor of Charlie Hebdo who thinks he knows what freedom of speech is about, has lost sight of how valuable this freedom is. 

They have cheapened it in a way that deserves no plaudits, but only the condemnation that will surely come when innocent people find themselves facing murderous crowds in the days to come.  How tragic that there are innocent, talented French men and women serving as diplomats, teachers or cultural ambassadors somewhere in the world tonight who may be dead within a week because of his crass stupidity.

But let’s tackle the other side of the issue.  It will be said that it isn't the cartoons that will kill, if that is what happens. It will be people whose rage allows them to justify the destruction of those they define as a legitimate target. Strictly speaking this is so, it isn't the cartoons that directly kill and if such murders happen they are also indefensible.

In law, its clear that freedom of speech isn't an absolute.  You can’t racially abuse someone, or incite violence.  Even in the United States, that bastion of free speech, the famous remark of Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr in a 1919 US Supreme Court ruling is pertinent here:

“The most stringent protection of free speech would not protect a man in falsely shouting fire in a theatre and causing a panic… The question in every case is whether the words used are used in such circumstances and are of such a nature as to create a clear and present danger.”

In those terms, Charlie Hebdo could be prosecuted, for only someone without a brain would argue that they didn’t realise that violence would follow publication of these cartoons.

But this doesn’t help us in the impasse.  Finding fault with one side or the other, declaring a victor and a victim, only perpetuates the problem. The answer, if one is to be found, lies elsewhere. And it’s going to revolve around restraint and respect.

The restraint not to publish what you know you can publish out of respect for those who do not value what you deem important.   

The restraint not to turn to violence even though you know that violence is an option out of respect for people who clearly do not value your faith.

In that sense, when the French publishers point the finger at Muslims turning to violence in the coming days, they themselves stand guilty of the same charge. A fundamental lack of restraint and respect.

Just because you “can” doesn’t mean you “should”.

David Kerrigan 

faith and the law

In recent years a number of cases have gone to court involving Christians who claim they have been victims of discrimination.  Often the decisions against these Christians have been upheld, the cumulative effect of which has been to give rise to the suspicion that Christians are being treated unfairly under the law.  

Four such people have now appealed to the European Court of Human Rights.  You can read the BBC report here, and for sure the outcomes will be important.  

When these stories first hit the headlines in 2009/10, I went to interview Shami Chakrabarti, Diretor of Liberty, who had played a role in most of these cases.  You can read my reflections on that meeting, and watch the interview by clicking on No Blacks. No Dogs. No Irish.

The question is, how will these cases go in the European Court? 

The case of Nadia Eweida, who was suspended by British Airways in 2006 after refusing to remove a necklace with a cross was then, and is now, ridiculous.  Especially so when one considers that Muslims and Sikh members of BA staff could, at that same time, openly wear religious dress and symbols as part of their clothing.  (BA argued that a cross was not a normal expression of being a Christian!)  Interestingly, though some Christians think of Shami Chakrabarti as being anti-Christian, Liberty actively supported Nadia Eweida.

As a result BA changed its uniform policy to allow for the open wearing of all religious symbols, including crosses, but it would not admit that the original policy was unlawful and therefore refused to pay Ms Eweida for the three months she was suspended from work. The issue for the court therefore is not whether she can now wear a cross (she can) but whether BA’s initial refusal was illegal. If the courts decide BA did not act illegally, it leaves open to BA or any other employer to make arbitrary rules prohibiting religious symbols.

I doubt if the court will support the legality of BA’s initial decision, but we’ll see.  In the meantime Christina Patterson in a brilliant article in The Independent points out the delicious irony that the lawyers defending this case come from a Government led by a Prime Minister who declared “we are a Christian country and should not be afraid to say so.”

Shirley Chaplin’s case is equally as ridiculous as it is indefensible.  Ms Chaplin was moved to a desk job by Royal Devon and Exeter NHS Trust Hospital because she too wanted to wear a cross. The Trust wanted her to wear it so it wasn’t visible, on Health and Safety grounds. Surely, one might think, they would be better focusing on hand-washing to eradicate MRSA rather than argue somewhat improbably that one day a patient might be killed by… what?  A cross falling off a chain?  I don’t think so.

Gary McFarlane, the third member of the group is a relationship counselor who was sacked by Relate after saying that he might have a conscientious objection to giving sex therapy advice to gay couples.  This takes us into more difficult territory.   Irrespective of one’s views about homosexuality, the fact is that gay people have long fought for equal rights under the law.  Having won those rights, they are entitled to be treated equally.

In reality however there was no practical reason to sack Mr McFarlane. No gay couple would have been deprived of advice as other counselors were available but Relate chose not to make any accommodation for Mr McFarlane’s views.  This is a common theme – one of an unwillingness to seek an accommodation. Mr McFarlane was in effect being told ‘your conscience has no place here’.  (Read here for an example of a company that did reach an accommodation in a similar case)

So whilst I wholly support the view that gay people should not be discriminated against, it seems a pity that no effort to reach an ‘accommodation’ or a compromise was explored.  Some will ask, quite rightly, where is the evidence Christians are willing to ‘accommodate’ gay people?  That’s a strong argument and in the court of public opinion, Christians as a group would be found guilty as charged.

But a position that says conscience has no part to play in the public space is worrying.    For example, such a ‘no conscience’ ruling could have implications for nurses and doctors who have been able to say for some time that they wish to have no role in abortions.

So this case is harder to call.  My hunch is that Relate will win.

And finally there is the case of Registrar Lilian Ladele, who was disciplined after she refused, on grounds of conscience, to conduct same-sex civil partnership ceremonies in Islington.  The initial objection was lodged by gay members of Islington staff who felt victimised by her stance. Liberty would argue that to follow one’s conscience in a situation like this demands that you give up your job and fight for a change in the law, not that your employer needs to make special arrangements for you.

And, as I indicate above, I have some sympathy for this view, and believe these examples are not primarily a case of religious discrimination but rather a case of a democratic society passing laws that reflect its values.  If Christians have a problem with those laws then our task is to work towards their change. I believe Islington Council’s position will be upheld.

Whilst these four cases have gone to the European Court of Human Rights together, I think the main focus will be on the latter two cases. And here my main concern is not that the decision will go one way or the other, but that Christians will again be portrayed as anti-gay. 

Not for the first time the focus will be on the ethics of the bedroom.  Jesus had far more to say about the ethics of the boardroom.

David Kerrigan

the illusion of safety

One of the wonderful conversations in C S Lewis’s ‘The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe’ is when Mr Beaver speaks of Aslan, describing the Lion as ‘the King of the wood, the son of the great emperor-beyond-the-sea and the King of the Beasts.’

Mrs Beaver joins in to say that ‘anyone who can stand before Aslan without his knees knocking is either braver than most or else just silly.’

“Then he isn't safe?” said Lucy. 

“Safe?” said Mr Beaver…. course he isn't safe.  But he’s good.  He’s the King, I tell you.”

The desire for safety is deep-seated. Lucy Pevensie, the character above, was instinctively averse to risk.  Like most of us, if we’re honest.  So the realisation that ‘he isn't safe’ wasn’t immediately reassuring.  Only the seemingly illogical follow up ‘but he’s good’ reminds us that danger, or risk, isn't always synonymous with being bad. 

Which brings me to the other Lucy – van Pelt – and her brother Linus, in the Charles Schultz ‘Peanuts’ cartoon. 

Looking out at the pouring rain, Lucy gives voice to her anxiety:

Lucy: “Boy, look at that rain… what if it floods the whole world?”

Linus: “It will never do that… in the ninth chapter of Genesis, God promised Noah that would never happen again, and the sign of the promise is the rainbow..”

Lucy: “You’ve taken a great load off my mind…”

Linus: “Sound theology has a way of doing that!”

This Lucy wanted safety as well, and Linus’s response gave her all the reassurance she wanted.  ‘Sound theology has a way of doing that!’  A great line, laden with some irony I suspect.

These encounters offer us two responses to anxiety.  One is met with ‘sound theology’, the other with an encouragement to journey on, accepting unknown risks but trusting that God is ultimately good. Both responses have their place.  But knowing there is more than one possible response is the key here, and a sign of spiritual maturity.

You see, I can easily argue that a Linus-like response can be just right.   In my early twenties, the faith that was nurtured in me from childhood was suddenly fanned into flame.  It all came together one evening round the kitchen table with two wonderful older Christians.  Their patient and skilful theological unpacking of Ephesians 1:13-14 and 2:8-9 cemented my faith in God, a faith that I now knew could not be lost by me, because it was never gained by me.  From that day to this, God’s grace has characterised my understanding of the Christian faith.

This is the time and place for sound theology, in particular to be found in laying the foundations of faith, outlining the great truths of the bible, sharing what learned and insightful men and women have discerned over many centuries.  Without this passing on of the faith, we will fail to enrich each successive generation, as we ourselves have been enriched. 

But where the foundations have been laid, there is also a danger that our sound theology, far from nurturing growth, actually stifles it.  And this danger is certainly there in evangelical circles where the adventure of theological exploration can be frowned on and seen as betraying our heritage.  

This is especially true when mission takes us, as it must, to the boundaries between belief and unbelief, and we are confronted by issues that demand fresh theological and ethical reflection.  If at that point, we only produce our previously constructed ‘sound theology’ and even argue that these matters, whatever they are, have been settled once and for all in the past, then we will fail to grow and develop our faith, and condemn others to the same.  That same ‘sound theology’ has a place to play, of course.  Haven’t I just called it foundational?  But yesterday’s word is not always today’s word, and is rarely God's last word.

Linus’s response to Lucy ‘took a load off her mind’.  But is that what theology is about? Her instant gratitude for Linus’ answer had the effect of dulling her enquiring mind and robbing her of the deeper encounter that her quest for understanding might have yielded.  She puts aside the troubling thoughts of the world and settles for ‘sound theology!’

I hope that we'll see the legitimacy of both responses.  When people look to us in moments of anxiety we can be flattered into thinking our only role is to be the dispenser of theological aspirin. 

More often I would rather see leaders like Mr and Mrs Beaver who have the courage to say that actually God may not be as you imagine God to be; God may not be containable by your words and formulations, and he definitely isn't safe!  But I tell you this – he’s good!  Journey on!

David Kerrigan 

refreshing publications

Engage and Mission Catalyst are just two of a number of BMS publications.  Each of our publications has its place within our communication strategy.  Each has different audiences in mind and different purposes to fulfil.  None is more important than the other because we need the interest, prayers, giving and desire to serve from every part of our Baptist community, and beyond.

Engage and Mission Catalyst have had a makeover this month.  The new look Engage has been winging its way to people in the last week and, I trust, will be well received.  The last time we changed Engage we got a lot of stick – mainly because the shape went from A4 size to a small Guardian-esque newspaper format.  As a result a not-inconsiderable number of Baptists complained that they could no longer read it in bed!

Well, amongst many changes, we’ve gone back to A4 and I trust harmony will be reinstated in the Baptist bedrooms of the UK.  You can view the online edition by clicking http://www.bmsworldmission.org/engage and clicking on the magazine image but do sign up if you want a free copy through the post.

Catalyst hasn’t changed shape but it does have a fresh new look as we continue to build on what is proving to be a strong brand.  It has always been for ministers, but a recent subtle change has been to broaden its reach to anyone in church leadership.  That’s the audience we write for but of course its available to anyone.

Producing Catalyst is great fun!  It begins with a bunch of us in a room brainstorming about future subject areas.  Gradually we focus in on one theme and begin to consider how we can develop it.  Lots of ideas emerge, along with possible contributors.  Almost always the meeting overruns as we start debating the issues themselves but actually this is a way of exploring what it is we think we would want to say on the subject.  The debate can be animated! 

Eventually we break, exhausted but stimulated – everyone agrees we really enjoy these occasions.  Through a further series of meetings, commissioning of articles, proof-reading and design Catalyst eventually comes off the press, by which time we’re already into the process for the next edition.

But the end result is what matters.  Each edition, we hope, contributes just a little to helping Christian men and women apply their faith to complex areas of today’s world.  In the last year we’ve looked at issues of sexuality, the rise of Islam, what we mean when we say the bible is true, and the southward shift in global Christianity. 

This week we’ve just published The Science Issue and again, you can see it by clicking http://www.bmsworldmission.org/catalyst and click on the magazine image. 

But do forward the link to others and encourage them to follow the subscribe link to receive a copy, through the post, for free.

David Kerrigan

a parable: hallowed ground

Published also on http://www.beyond400.net as a contribution to the Baptist Union of Great Britain Futures Process which can be accessed 

On a cold but sunny afternoon last week I found myself at Arlington National Cemetery in Washington DC.  Arlington describes itself as ‘our Nation’s most hallowed ground,’ a place where the pride that many Americans share in their nation is visible and tangible.

Let me acknowledge, hopefully to save later diversions, that there is much about America, and the UK and most nations I know, that is not as we would like it to be. This blog is not a political treatise on national perfections and imperfections nor indeed a celebration of militarism.  What Arlington represents for me is the power of belonging to something we truly believe in.

Arlington is one of those places that remind me that Americans on the whole love their country, in spite of it’s faults. Some are cynical of course and cynics rarely make a contribution to the greater good. Sceptics do.  Critics do too.  But cynics don’t.  So even when Americans are critics of their own nation its because they long for it to be better, to live up to the high ideals that lie at its core.  That’s why times of critical reflection are important. Hard lessons need to be learned in order that the ideals we cherish continue to set a high standard for all our shared endeavours.

Arlington encapsulates so many of these ideals.  The overwhelming majority of graves are marked by identical white headstones, as simple as its possible to imagine. To those who knew the people behind the names, every person is unique but the message conveyed from seeing so many standing shoulder to shoulder in the last light of day, is that our strength is in our togetherness, not our aloneness. In an era when we celebrate celebrity, and too quickly measure unfavourably the ordinary against the exceptional, Arlington says that the ordinary is exceptional when it stands united.

Amidst the uniformity, Arlington also recognises moments of great significance, events that changed the life of the nation. Great times of struggle, from the Civil War to the modern day are remembered. Tragedies such as the loss of the Challenger and Columbia Space Shuttles and the attack on Pan Am 103 that came down over Lockerbie – these moments of grief are remembered too.  Life together is rarely untroubled and times of sorrow, and joy, suitably remembered, comprise the narrative for future generations.

It would be wrong to speak of the heart of Arlington, in a physical sense, but most who make a visit will go to the grave of John F Kennedy.  Like many leaders, his faults are there to see, but there is no doubt he inspired generations of people, especially young people. 

He was just one of the bearers of the story, like thousands of others, but he was set aside because others perceived in him the gifts and character of leadership.  In return, he undertook to serve them, not knowing what that promise would cost him.

Whilst we wisely avoid elevating men and women to a burdensome sainthood, it is surely right that we acknowledge with thanksgiving those whose character and skills have shaped our lives in years gone by, and pray that we might match their example, if only in part. 

Not all can be Presidents of course!  Johnny Clem lies buried here too, a ten-year-old drummer boy during the civil war who attained the rank of sergeant by the age of twelve.   Greatness is not automatically commensurate with age, or learning, or title.  Even a 12-year old boy is capable of leading others, or so I’ve read, somewhere.

If the physical heart of Arlington is hard to define, maybe its soul – though intangible - is less elusive.  Arlington is a cemetery for sure but when you visit, its plain that what is celebrated is not death but life, it’s potential and its responsibility.

The words of President Kennedy, taken from his January 1961 inaugural address and inscribed below his grave, remind us that our life is given for a purpose:

NOW THE TRUMPET SUMMONS US AGAIN
NOT AS A CALL TO BEAR ARMS - THOUGH EMBATTLED WE ARE
BUT A CALL TO BEAR THE BURDEN OF A LONG TWILIGHT STRUGGLE
A STRUGGLE AGAINST THE COMMON ENEMIES OF MAN
TYRANNY - POVERTY - DISEASE - AND WAR ITSELF

I am not an American, but if I was I think I would have left Arlington with a renewed sense of ‘who I am’ in the broader sweep of ‘who we are.’  

I’d go back to my daily tasks with thanksgiving for those who have gone before and allowed me to live as I can live today.  I’d be more aware of my responsibilities having seen the sacrifice that others made in fulfilling theirs. 

I’d be humble about my achievements, slow to judge and quick to praise all that others have done in their faithful service.

And I’d be watchful lest the high ideals enshrined in this place ever slip from our common life together. 

For then we would be a lesser people than we are capable of being, lesser than we are called to be.

David Kerrigan

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 )

this tangling mesh

Priceless time flies by and disappears

Into the deep that is our future’s tears.

And with it takes today’s distinctive scenes,

Passing chatter.

Things that matter.

And slow creates tomorrow’s might have beens.

 

But with the passage of this fleeting stuff

Emerges bold a word – enough’s enough.

No longer now content there comes a yearning,

To make a mark.

To light the dark.

The heart’s response to life’s perpetual mourning.

 

Mourning for what is not but yet could be

If courage tamed our mediocrity.

And fearful too in case we reach the death,

The race full run.

All said and done.

And life laughs long and mocks the missing breath.

 

So let the morning come and start afresh,

Free, unfettered, loose from tangling mesh.

Time to leave this place and ‘brace the distance.

Stand in the square,

If we but dare,

And banish any whiff of man’s indifference. 

urban expression

Visiting Urban Expression teams in Manchester last Friday, we found ourselves in somewhat unusual surroundings.  In the space of 8 hours we visited a Sure Start children’s centre, an Asda supermarket, the Rampant Lion pub, walked round a local Estate and finally gathered for reflection and prayer – in Tesco’s café!

BMS first partnered with Urban Expression in the late 1990’s when they were getting started and we have been doing so again over the last year or so.  Although BMS primarily works outside the UK, we share the vision of those committed to mission on the margins of society, which in the UK can often mean ministry in the inner city.

With Juliet Kilpin as our guide, Peter, Mat and I met with Clare and Tim, Gary and Derek, and Angie… and others along the way.  And what came home, perhaps unsurprisingly, was the parallels to the kind of mission work we are used to doing in countries around the world. 

I was in no doubt that the inner city option was not the easy choice , or the natural choice for most of those we met.  It was a vocational presence – a calling if you like!  A language we are familiar with.

For those who had more recently made the move to the inner city, there was a new culture to learn, and maybe in some ways a new language too.  So, in the first hour I found myself sat with a young couple from the Middle East, only four years in the country but their English was good, and when we stumbled over words, well - they had an iPhone App for that! We talked about family and friends, their respect for the fact that the law in the UK seemed to apply to everyone, and of course religion – and they brought up the fact that they were Muslims. They invited us for lunch – the kind of hospitality that so often outs us to shame – but we couldn’t go.

And if ever we think mission work anywhere is attractive, the reality is usually somewhat different. Walking round the estate, we followed a young family – Mum with baby in a pushchair, and a 5 year old tagging along after them – stepping over the condom lying by a bin, the little lad in a sleeveless short on what was, for me, an increasingly cold afternoon.

The Muslim family who run the Rampant Lion pub welcomed us as Gary spoke openly about his ‘church’ group who meet on their premises – they were proud of these regulars! It was hard to get my head around all that this meant, but it reinforced how much we are so often scared of getting out of our churches.  People don’t bite, in fact throughout the day I sensed a real welcome to the varied presence of believers in the community.

And so the day ended and we left with memories and questions.

Does BMS have a role to play here?  As we sat in Tesco we were encouraged to believe that the cross-cultural insights we take for granted may be useful to share.

What kind of leadership is best in these settings?  We all know that local indigenous leadership is best in the long run.  But I couldn’t help thinking that someone from outside, someone who isn't beaten down by the prevailing hopelessness of some places, or whose horizon hasn’t been limited by circumstance and upbringing, can bring hope and envision people.  We see it so often when one of our mission workers enters a new community in various countries. 

And how does this kind of mission affect your theology?  This is a favourite of mine – seeing again and again how our once watertight doctrinal formulations leak like a sieve once we actually sit down and get to know the kind of people our theology sometimes alienates. 

Urban Expression are wonderful people, engaged in mission that doesn’t grab the headlines but there is something very Christ-like about it.  They embrace the margins, and these days, the margins of our society are found in the heart  of our cities. 

David Kerrigan

hearts and minds

Theology! Can be such an intimidating word but at its truest, its something every Christian should be doing – and is doing – as they contemplate the things of God. 

Denis Diderot, the 18th century French philosopher said of theology “Only a very bad theologian would confuse the certainty that follows revelation with the truths that are revealed. They are entirely different things.”

And that’s the point – theology is rarely about unearthing absolutes but more about plumbing the unfathomable riches of God.  Can there be a more energizing endeavour!    

Over the last year a small group of us representing the Baptist Colleges, BUGB and BMS World Mission have been planning an intensive theology week under the banner ‘Hearts and Minds’.  I have to say I am delighted at the outcome and look forward to a stimulating week later this month. 

You can check out more details on the website here or you can read a summary of the programme by clicking here - Download Hearts and Minds. 

I dont know if there are any places left but do contact Regents Park College if you're interested.  

David Kerrigan