thinking mission

the power of story (2)

Colin Harris, Professor of Religion at Mercer University in the States, sent me a very helpful and encouraging email following my previous post on the subject of the narrative structure of the Bible versus the non-narrative nature of the Qur’an.  With Colin’s permission I quote from his email:

“Students sometimes discover that how people can use the Bible in a “non-narrative” way (similar to the divine dictates of the Qur’an) and they are struck by how similar fundamentalists can be to what they perceive Muslims to be.  Occasionally I get to see the liberation of one making the change from seeing the Bible as a set of propositions to be believed and obeyed to seeing it as a story to embrace and join, as you put it so well".

This is intriguing.  Not only is the non-narrative style of the Qur’an arguably a weakness that impairs engagement for today’s Muslims, but Colin suggests that if Christians interpret the Bible in a similar way, i.e. extracted from its narrative context and used as a set of dictates, we run the risk of slipping into a Christian version of fundamentalism ourselves.

As I was mulling this over, I came across a similar sentiment expressed by Jonathan Sacks, the Chief Rabbi, contained in a comment piece by Christopher Howse writing in The Tablet (25 June 2011). Howse quotes from an interview Sacks gave in The Times on 18 June and says

‘In a remark that might also be made on behalf of Catholic exegetes, Lord Sacks declared that there was no contradiction between science and the book of Genesis: “No rabbi ever read Genesis literally until modern times!” This complements [Sacks’] definition of fundamentalism as “the attempt to move from text to application without interpretation”’

Drawing these strands together is fascinating.  As I commented in the previous post, the narrative style of scripture allows us to engage with the story of what God is doing through history – redemption history. Without a narrative, other religious texts or secular ideologies fail to help us find a meaningful narrative. Two risks then emerge:

As Colin Harris then points out, the first is the risk of a Christian fundamentalism that is every bit as imprisoning as the fundamentalism we reject in others. We end up with a dogma-driven or rules-based approach to faith, pharisaical in nature and at its worst life-quenching rather than life-giving.

Much of the Catholicism of my youth bore this characteristic, and I see it still today in mission work where outside missionaries import their doctrinal distinctives and impose them on others. 

The second risk is the one that Jonathan Sacks refers to, namely that because texts do not live in a vacuum, once detached from their context (or story) they will demand another to give an alternative meaning as we leap clumsily from text to application without giving sufficient attention to context.

So, for example, the breathtaking story of the God who creates the cosmos and all living things, and humankind whose maleness and femaleness echoes something hidden deep in the heart of the Trinity becomes reduced to the impoverished concept of a 6-day burst of activity, with God presumably checking his wristwatch! 

No, we will not walk that road.  Thank God for the captivating story of the Bible.  Let us never take it for granted.  Let us be ready in season and out of season to commend it to others. 

And may we never, ever reduce it to a lifeless collection of propositions.   

David Kerrigan

the power of story (1)

Are you sitting comfortably? Then I’ll begin!

How many of us remember this litany from our younger years, still said today as we introduce young people to the power of stories.

Whether you love books or films, fact or fiction, television or radio you will know how captivated we can be by a good story. And because stories are everywhere we can easily lose sight of the power that they have over us and the influence that they can bring to bear on people, communities and nations.

The most powerful stories are those that contain characters with whom we can easily identify. To see ourselves as the victim (or even the villain!), the one struggling against the odds, the one who falls in love or who suffers unbearable loss – these are the stories into which we are drawn and in a very real sense we become part of that story.

As Christians the story we are most familiar with is that which is recounted in the Bible. From Genesis through to Revelation, there is a narrative, a flow of events that take us on a journey.  From creation to fall, and fall to redemption, well – you can almost hear the producer cry “Action!” 

This is the story that invites our participation.  In fact all stories invite participation. That’s how they work.  Why else do you stay awake at night to get to the last page of a novel?  The events never even happened, so why do we well up in tears, or gape open-mouthed at a turn of events we didn’t anticipate?  That’s the power of the story.

Which brings me to the Qur’an. Unlike the Judeo-Christian Scriptures, the Qur’an doesn’t follow a narrative style.  It isn’t story in the way that the Bible patently is.  It doesn’t have a beginning, middle and an end.  It neither has an overarching meta-narrative nor within it series of accessible mini-narratives.

Further, the Qur'an is non-linear. For example, the first verses revealed to the Muhammad are not at the beginning of the Qur’an but in Surah (chapter) 96:1-5.  The final revelation comes not at the end but in Surah 5:3.

I believe the significance of this is enormous, and its getting greater before our very eyes.

If stories draw us in, then the absence of story demands an alternative dynamic of engagement.  The question is, what is that alternative?

Lets go back to the Bible again and consider the story of the prodigal son.  It requires just twenty-two verses of scripture in the fifteenth chapter of Luke’s gospel.  Translate it into any number of languages or dialects.  Go for a literal translation, a dynamic equivalent or a paraphrase.  As long as you’re not too cavalier with the translation, it wont matter.  The story retains its ancient power.  The power to shock, to challenge, to grieve, and to move people to feel saddened, appalled, angry or resentful.  But it also has the power to move, to uplift, to restore, and to impart emotions of forgiveness, joy, restoration and agape love.

Don’t worry about the words.  It’s the narrative that carries the impact. 

The Qur’an on the other hand, because of its style and structure, demands an alternative means of engagement.  There isn’t a narrative to draw us in, lift us up and cast us down. What there is, Muslims will point out, is the conviction that the Qur’an in its original Arabic is the actual dictated words of God, the ipsissima verba of Allah himself.

For this reason alone there is strong encouragement to memorise the Qur’an.  And whilst most Muslims cannot understand Arabic, a point to which I will return, there is a sensuous beauty in its calligraphy and in its lyrical recitation. These too are means of engagement.

But there is largely an absence of narrative, especially in the vernacular language of the people, for whilst the Qur’an can be translated, the translation is not the Qur’an, but a mere representation of it. 

And so we must ask ourselves about the relative power of narrative over and against the artistry of a script and its aural qualities.

And with the utmost respect this is where I sense Islam is struggling.  The last 20-30 years or so have arguably been the most tumultuous upheaval in the Islamic world since the early days of the faith itself.  In the space of a few decades Islam has crashed headlong from a largely pre-modern world into modernity and then again from modernity into postmodernity, almost in the blink of an eye. 

In the space of these few years the world has changed beyond all recognition for all of us.  The advent of technology, from satellite televisions to cheaper air travel, has brought Muslims face-to-face with different worlds in a way that previous generations had not experienced. 

Mass migrations from South Asia to the West have done the same, with a particular challenge for second and third generation immigrants.

The Internet has made the global village a present reality, even if your home is still in Pakistan, Indonesia or the Middle East. 

Everyone – be they Jew, Christian, Hindu, Buddhist or Muslim – everyone looks for resources to cope with this brave new world.  Believers of whatever kind will look to their faith. 

The absence of this compelling narrative has arguably found expression in different phenomena.  On the one hand it has contributed to an almost counter-intuitive retreat to a supposed idyllic age where Islam could isolate itself from the world.  The failed experiments of Iran and Afghanistan bear testimony to this, as do other regressive regimes based on Sharia law.    

In others it has resulted in the anger we see in those who feel alienated from the world, resulting in terrorism of the worst kind. Of course, as in all cultures, the majority are in the middle, untouched by these extremes, but the extremes are those who impact most on others so they are the issues we find ourselves dealing with.

I believe the narrative structure of the Bible commends itself to men and women searching for help in a confusing world. In fact, as we see increasing numbers of men and women becoming 'followers of Jesus' within their own cultural tradition, its the stories of Jesus that impact them the most. 

For that reason alone, we should treasure our Scriptures, know the story they tell, and be ready to bear witness to the Christ they reveal whenever we have the opportunity.

David Kerrigan

God calling?

A longer post this time as I'd like to include the full text of an article published this month in "MInistry Today" see here. 

Having worked most of the last 27 years with BMS World Mission, both as missionary and in a variety of leadership roles, I know how much of our organisational life and the lives of those who come to serve with us revolve around the search for guidance concerning God’s will. 

Those who come to enquire about mission service with us speak readily of their conviction that God is calling them to this work. If, as a mission, we explore the possibility of starting new projects or ministry in new countries, we too will invoke the language of calling as a way of expressing our belief that we have discerned God’s will in the matter, as in “we believe God is calling us to work in China”.

The language of calling is deep-seated in most Christians. It is also understandable.  As Christians, we believe in a God who is present with us, immanent whilst simultaneously transcendent, one who can be encountered yet remains unseen.  Such encounters with God are necessarily profound, and demand the use of language to describe something essentially intangible and elusive, but which we experience as personal.  And there is nothing more personal than to say God has spoken to me.

At the heart of this use of the language of call is what I perceive to be a danger (for many it is a conviction) that this is the defining factor in making decisions about someone’s future.  After all, if God calls, who are we to deny that call? So, a missionary candidate feels they must use the language of call, and persuade us of the veracity of their call so we can accept them.  Their church will often write words to the effect that “we are sure God is calling them to be a missionary.” And in testing the rightness of whether someone works with BMS or not, we will also say something to the effect that “we want to work with you to explore whether God is indeed calling you into mission.”  ‘Calling’ is the cipher we all agree to use.

I want to argue that in discerning the rightness of someone serving in a mission role, maybe also in what we call local church pastoral ministry, we have to be ready to dispense with the language of call, or at least set it to one side, and be much more down-to-earth in the scrutiny we apply.  Further, I want to argue that this ‘down-to-earthness’ is entirely biblical.

A Defective Spirituality

I remember thinking a lot about decision making at a formative stage in my Christian life, in the early 1980s.  At that time there was a particular spirituality in the air both in America and in the UK that seemed to endorse the view that discerning God’s particular, unique plan for your life was of the greatest importance.  Interestingly, this spirituality had different starting points: in America it was rooted in a growing biblical literalism or fundamentalism, but in the UK it was rooted in the emergent charismatic movement and its tendency to endorse (heavy) shepherding and specific guidance by prophetic utterance. 

This spirituality lent credence to the view that God’s plan for your life was discernible in some detail.  Discovering God’s will was vital therefore, for to discern God’s will incorrectly and make a wrong decision could take you outside of God’s will.  And having decided that God’s will has been discerned, it is just a short step to use language such as “I believe God is calling me to become a teacher” or “to go to University” and so on.

At that time, I spent some of my hard-earned cash on exactly the book I was looking for!  Decision Making and the Will of God by Garry Friesen addressed the very thing I was wrestling with, namely how we are to know God’s will for our lives.  After several hundred pages, Friesen concluded that God does not have a specific plan for our lives, if by that we mean a meticulously detailed, step-by-step blueprint.  Then and now, I find this conclusion pastorally wise, intellectually sensible and biblically consistent.  

It is pastorally wise because to believe in the ‘blueprint’ model of guidance raises the spectre of all kinds of damaging ‘what ifs’ such as ‘what if I make a wrong decision about my A-levels, my job, my house, my choice of spouse and so forth’.  I am not saying these decisions are unimportant - quite the contrary.  I am simply saying that in life no major decision is other than a step of faith, whether we are sure of God’s will or not.  Also, and this is something we have wrestled with from time to time within BMS, how do you handle someone who adamantly declares that they (and they alone) have discerned God’s will in a particular matter, often in contradiction to the views of others? 

I also found his conclusion to be intellectually sensible. While we do struggle with the tension between the providence of God and the freedom of humankind, these two are not inconsistent as long as we have an overarching long-term view of providence, rather than a short-term ‘it actually matters to God whether I buy a red car or a blue car’ approach.  In matters of aesthetics I suspect God is colour blind.  What matters to God is my wise stewardship of all I have, and my care for those who don’t.

Third, I found his conclusion biblically consistent because, as we shall see in a moment, while it is clear that God does sometimes call people into particular roles, both in biblical times and today, the Bible also commends a general understanding of discipleship and decision making that is devoid of moments of specific revelation and is more dependent on the development of character. 

In short, I have found myself often saying to people down through the years that God is less concerned with what you are planning on doing than he is about the person you are becoming.  I could argue - and have argued - that it matters not to God whether you paint houses or masterpieces, build a business or build a house. What matters is whether you are growing into the fullness of Christ.

Guidance in the Bible

How does God guide his people?  The answer is simple: in an almost infinite variety of ways.  We have pillars of fire in the night sky and pillars of cloud in the light of day (Exodus 13.21).  Gideon lays a fleece on the ground (Judges 6.37) and God speaks through the dew and he overcomes his fears.  God tells Abram to leave his home and travel “to a land I will show you”, a text beloved of missionary preachers, and he goes (Genesis 12.1).  The apostles draw lots to choose the successor to Judas (Acts 1.26).

In respect of a particular individual calling to Office, it seems clear that the only people within Israel who were the recipients of what we might describe as a clear call or vocation were special people for specialised ministries.  These are the high priest (Hebrews 5.4); Judges (1 Samuel 3.4-10); Prophets (Isaiah 6.1-8; Jeremiah 1.4-10); Kings (1 Samuel 16.11-13) and certain craftsmen endowed in a special way to build the tabernacle (Exodus 31.1-6).

The New Testament certainly talks much about calling. The verb kaleo ‘to call’ is used 148 times with 70 more uses of words which have kaleo as their root.  The word is used in three distinct ways.  The first is to speak of a summons or invitation to faith.  So, Jesus says “I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners” (Matthew 9.13).  Second, Paul uses the word differently when he talks of God’s gracious invitation whereby the sinner can respond to the invitation to salvation, as in “...we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him who have been called according to his purpose...” (Romans 8.28).

But there is a third way that kaleo or its derivatives are used, namely to speak of the sense individuals being called or guided, and there are three specific occasions when kaleo is used in this way. 

• First, in Acts 13 the gathered assembly set apart Paul and Barnabas at the clear prompting of the Holy Spirit: “While they were worshiping the Lord and fasting, the Holy Spirit said...”  (Acts 13.2)
• Second, in Acts 16 we read of Paul and his companions being prevented from travelling to the province of Asia but “after Paul had seen the vision, we got ready at once to leave for Macedonia, concluding that God had called us to preach the gospel to them” (Acts 16.10). 
• Third, Paul introduces some of his letter by declaring himself to be “a servant of Christ Jesus, called to be an apostle and set apart for the gospel of God...” (Romans 1.1; see also 1 Corinthians 1.1).

What is interesting is that these instances are very much the exception and not the rule, and even these three texts, rather than conveying the sense of the call being some kind of inward impression, carry the possible sense of a supernatural communication.  In the events of Acts 13, it seems likely that the guidance of the Holy Spirit was brought by prophetic utterance during worship. The Acts 16 calling was the result of a vision, maybe only to Paul, but it certainly conveys something stronger than an inner conviction. And the Romans 1 statement of conviction in respect of his calling as an apostle flowed from his miraculous Damascus Road conversion, again an atypical experience.

I would conclude that, while God has in the past, and does still today, reveal his will to his people in direct ways that could be described as a calling, this has almost always been to key people for key tasks and is not portrayed in scripture as a normal way God offers guidance. 

On the contrary, there is much more written in scripture about character and qualification for office than there is ever about a specific calling to a specific person.  Paul writes to Timothy about overseers and doesn’t refer to their need for a call.  What he says is “Whoever aspires to be an overseer desires a noble task” (1 Timothy 3.1).  This sense of legitimate aspiration would stand in direct contradiction of a position that said God’s call was what was needed for such office. 

The qualities needed for overseers, elders and deacons are spelt out in various passages including 1 Timothy 3.1-13 and Titus 1.6-9.  So, when Paul writes “Now the overseer must be above reproach, the husband of but one wife, temperate, etc.”, the sense is that these are the characteristics that will validate someone’s appropriateness for office.  There is no instruction to Timothy to ask “who feels they are called to be an elder?”

In Ephesians 4.7, we read that “to each one of us grace (charism) has been given as Christ apportioned it.”  This is amplified in Ephesians 4.9 where we read “it was he who gave some to be apostles, some to be prophets, some to be evangelists, and some to be pastors and teachers...”  Again, the qualification is not some inner sense of calling but a demonstrable charism as evidence of qualification for office. 

Consequently, I am not sure we are helping anyone when we encourage the language of calling by those who enquire about mission work, or for that matter, any other office in the church.  My attempt to demystify this sense of calling is not to denigrate those who speak of God’s call on their life.  This language is understandable.  My real challenge is twofold. First, I want to remind everyone, including the sending church and the person themselves, that someone talking of a sense of call does not negate the task of others assessing whether that person’s character is consistent with one who wishes to serve as Christ’s ambassador or as a leader of God’s people.  It is entirely consistent therefore, to ask how a person has already been involved in the ministry of the church.  If they have not been active in a settled pattern, there may be cause to delay such an enquiry.  

Second, my challenge is to those who do not think ‘mission’ because they have not received this mystical call that they assume is necessary for mission work.  Every pastor in this country is called to world mission and should therefore give equal consideration to work in Belgium alongside their consideration of Birmingham.  They were commissioned to build up God’s church.  It’s their gifting and character that will determine whether they live in Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria or the ends of the earth. I don’t think God ordinarily has a view as to whether the particular church we build up is in one country or another.  Similarly, every businesswoman, teacher or engineer intent on ushering in the Kingdom of God should consider Cambodia just as easily as Cardiff.  No special calling - just an honest examination of their character, their skills and their temperament. ‘Here I am - wholly available’.

I am more and more convinced, especially these days, that ‘mission work’ is an artificial construct if we mean by that a work that is different from the ordinary witness of the church in the world, necessitating a distinct call which is given to only a few.  Geography demands different gifts and skills, character and temperament.  I am not convinced it demands a different kind of calling. 

David Kerrigan

 

Yad Vashem

Returning to Israel on Tuesday this week, in the good company of David Coffey, now our BMS Global Ambassador, our goal is to join with Israel’s Baptists in celebrating their Centenary.  More of that later in the week.  Today was different.

When I came here last year most of my time was spent with Arab Christians and Muslims, both in Nazareth and on the West Bank. The visit made a powerful impact on me, which I wrote about here.

On this visit I especially wanted to visit the Jewish Holocaust Memorial, Yad Vashem, in large measure to understand better an Israeli-Jewish worldview.  I know there would be no better place than Yad Vashem, and I was surely right. 

As you’d expect the memorial was haunting in its evocation of a world that existed less than a decade before I was born.  It was intense, and the intensity grew as you travelled further into the building, into the story, into the depiction of the industrialisation of genocide. It was at times strangely peaceful – not the peace of beauty or harmony, but the peace that says this horror is now over, but please don’t ever forget it. The peace of a battlefield when all lie dead.

Images, sounds, artefacts, stories, even the architecture speaks of fractured humanity.  The collection of hundreds of shoes, the striped uniform of a Belsen inmate, the black & white film of escaping Jewish men and women hurrying to the train wagons and helping each other to get in.  The choice given to young mothers to leave their children and work (until they were too ill then shot) or stay with their children and go to the gas chambers.  They stayed with their children.

The woman, now in her 70s, telling of how at the age of seven she was taken to the pit in the forest, watching as groups of ten were stripped and made to stand on the edge of the huge pit, then shot where they stood by soldiers seated behind a machine gun. Too long to be standing all day, shooting all those people for hours on end.  Her turn came and she dropped, maybe fainted, before the bullets came and so lived, lying on the dead, covered by the dead until nightfall. How easily I tell this, but imagine her tears as she tells it to the camera.  Her mother and sister were killed there too.

We had lunch with a senior Jewish civil servant in the Israeli Government, a friend. We spoke of Israel and Palestine, of walls that separate and bridges that unite, of Jesus the Jew, of loving your enemy, of hopes for peace.  And as we parted David prayed the Aaronic blessing over our Jewish friend. As I listened, that was my prayer for the Jewish people.

“The LORD bless you and keep you; the LORD make his face shine on you and be gracious to you; the LORD turn his face toward you and give you peace.” (Numbers 6:24)

We read in Romans 8:22 “that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time.”

Today that groaning was audible, visible, tangible.  And unforgettable.

David Kerrigan

G.R.Beasley-Murray Lecture 2011

In early 2010 the Union and BMS, in conversation with the College Principals, began to explore whether we didn't need some reflection on both the ways British Baptists have historically structured ourselves for mission, and the theological underpinnings of the endeavour. 

Wisely, rather than rush into that in a hurried way, we decided instead to commission Professor Brian Stanley to explore this as the subject matter for the 2011 G.R.Beasley-Murray lecture.

This was delivered at the Assembly in Blackpool and with permission, is now available to read or download from here.

As ever with Brian's scholarship, it is thorough and pithy, and raises some interesting issues as we look to the future. 

David Kerrigan

 

welcome!

“Anyone who welcomes you welcomes me...” Matthew 10:40

A lot of blogging has already passed under the bridge concerning the Baptist Assembly in Blackpool.  Its been overwhelmingly complimentary, which is always better than the alternative!  No room for complacency though, just a huge thanks to a large team of people who make it all possible. 

The kind of remarks that say that the worship or the speakers or the children’s programme were good, or in many cases excellent, are always encouraging.   But the comments I’ve seen that suggest that Assembly is heading in the right direction, that BUGB and BMS are truly addressing key issues or giving voice to things that really matter – those words are like manna from heaven.  The measure of an Assembly’s success must not be that it simply gave everyone an enjoyable experience.  The measure I look for is whether it’s contributing to us becoming the kind of people we want to become.

In that regard the theme this year - ‘Your Kingdom Come’ - seemed to touch a nerve.  On so many occasions we were led to the point where the Kingdom of God needs to be seen in very radical terms. Sure, radical is an overused term these days, but it is appropriate here.  Back to the roots of our faith and the example of Jesus who included people that others excluded or wanted to exclude. 

So in the Palm Sunday narrative we see the moneychangers thrown out and the blind welcomed.  The disciples-cum-bouncers (great image) try to keep the children away but Jesus says ‘let them come.’  The Lunatic farmer says don’t be in such a rush to pull out the weeds  to purify the field.  Live with the untidiness.

But what now? Well, I hope that some, indeed many amongst us, will start to do some serious theological reflection on what it means to be a Kingdom people.  What might that mean?  Are there limits to inclusion?  Should we be using the language of inclusion, and its corollary – exclusion - at all?  Should we reflect on the Jesus who welcomed all?

If we’re not to be just talking about this in five years time, we need to start working this out.  

David Kerrigan

 

 

let's change the world

My clumsy discernment of times when God wants me to pay attention is often characterised by flashes of insight that then fuel my preaching, teaching or conversation for weeks or months, or even longer. 

One conviction has been with me for some years now, namely that our nation needs strong effective churches and to get strong, effective churches we need highly motivated leaders.  And leaders get motivated when they see God at work in power. 

Around BMS people have heard me say this for a long time: get people to parts of the world where God is at work in power, and then let them come back full of the Holy Spirit, with renewed faith in the power of God to redeem people, transform communities and thereby influence nations.

For the last few years we’ve been sending ministers’ teams to various parts of the world, and I’ve been hugely encouraged when I hear their stories of what they’ve experienced.  Our Baptist college students are now able to go as part of their training and many are doing so.  Hearing that ‘everywhere I go, the whole college is talking about nothing except the impact of the mission visit’ is music to my ears! 

But its now 20 years since we sent our first Action Teams, 30-40 each year for a programme lasting 10 months.  Many are now in leadership in their churches, in the denomination and in BMS, both in the UK and around the world.  Knowing how gifted and committed so many of them are, I urge you to hear their stories and see their commitment and praise God for them!  Allow your faith to rise with theirs, for many of them have seen God at work in power with their own eyes.  

And if you’re aware that inwardly you pigeonhole their enthusiasm as the innocence of youth or the idealism of those not yet worldly-wise, then your cynicism will rob you of your share of the blessings they have received. Cynicism needs to be dropped into the deepest oceans, with lead weights attached!

Earlier today I was just so excited to read of the impact of a recent mission visit by one of our action teams in the north of Brazil.  Can I encourage you to read their testimony here. And as you read their story, just consider whether the God who is at work in Brazil is not the same God whose Holy Spirit hovers over your church, hovers your street, your life, your family, your church.

Yes, the people are different.  Yes, you can rightly say easily that the west is far more resistant to the Gospel.  But what I want to know is that God is the same.  With that in my bag, with God on our side, knowing that God is already at work, there are moments when I really do believe we can transform the world!

So, my personal thanks to Tim, Sophie and Ben in Brazil, and all the action teamers around the world. 

Thanks for building my faith today!

David Kerrigan

momentous days

“Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.”  So goes the old saying to advise caution in the midst of uncertainty.  As deep uncertainty envelopes the Middle East its not foolish to ask what’s happening.  Its only foolishness to claim to know the outcome.

For sure this seems to be an epochal moment, a once-in-a-generation time for change.  Tunisia and Egypt have been transformed, even if Mubarrak is trying to cling on a few more months. I’ll be surprised if he lasts to the weekend.  Yemen and Jordan are experiencing the first icy blasts of discontent rumbling in the streets and cafes. Even Lebanon, with a different history of puppet-Governments rather than a 30-year autocracy is asking fresh questions about democratic freedoms.

Jim Naughtie reporting from Beirut on BBC’s Today programme on 2nd February  spoke of this being an Arab uprising, and in that very phrase hangs a key insight into what we may be experiencing. 

The West so often fails to understand what it means to be Arab. Arab is not to be confused with Muslim for one thing.  Our Christian brothers and sisters in the Middle East are mostly Arabs.  So first and foremost this appears not to be a religiously-inspired call for change as it was in 1978/79 in Iran. 

The most obvious triggers for change are global economic inequalities and restrictions on freedoms which the internet and social networking now make all the more obvious.  In Tunisia tens of thousands of young people have gone through school and University and been out of work for years.  The same story can be told across the region.  Aging despots backed by militaries, who in turn are backed by western powers, cling to wealth and power while their people, frankly, can go to hell.

So if this is an Arab uprising, what might be its consequences?  Firstly, there is something inherently human happening here.  The Bible talks of men and women being made in the image of God and God’s good news is to set people free.  Free from sin yes, but also injustice and tyranny, from shame and poverty.   What else could ‘life in all its fullness’ refer to?

Secondly, this search for freedom will nonetheless have a religious dimension because human beings are spiritual beings.  And I say this even in the context of Egypt and Tunisia being essentially secular countries with millions of nominally Muslim Arabs. But whatever unfolds in the days to come, religion will be a factor.  Islam has a unifying force but there will be tensions between those who wish to use this moment to impose a fundamentalist Islam, and those who don’t.  Millions of young Arabs are not going to swop the tyranny of a dictator for the tyranny of a cleric, not if they can avoid it.

Thirdly, Israel.  Make no mistake, there is no love for Israel amongst Middle Eastern Arabs, nor for the US either.  Many of these dictators have been in power because their militaries are backed by American dollars and British pounds.  Arabs have long memories too, and you don’t have to go back too far to unearth the duplicity of the British in the current maelstrom that is Israel-Palestine. 

Whilst hot-heads may call for Israel to be wiped from the face of the earth, realists may see this as the time when a pan-Arab voice might at last be able to say ‘lets now address the plight of the Palestinians.  And remember, the Palestinians are Arabs and amongst them are many Christians, and many Baptists.  

So with regimes like Egypt about to change, the pressure is going to be full on to reach a solution to the Palestinian crisis, and that may be no bad thing.  It could even result in greater security also for Israel – in the long run.

And what about the Church across the world?  Well, certainly, this is a time to pray so take the Bible off the shelf and read 1 Tim 2:1-7.  Pray for leaders from East and West who are now making key decision by the hour.  But pray too for the church in the region, Arab Christians from Jordan, Lebanon, Syria, Israel, Palestine and through to Egypt – they are in the eye of the storm I referred to in my previous post. 

One thing is for sure – this is momentous. 

David Kerrigan

the eye of the storm

Prayer puzzles me, and it always has.  I don’t understand how it works.  I don’t really understand how its meant to work. Truly, ‘tis mystery all!

But I concluded some years ago, in an article in the Baptist Times as it happens, that if Jesus taught us how to pray, and prayed himself then that was good enough for me.  So I do pray and will always encourage others to pray.  

But then the next problem appears – what am I to pray for? – after all, some situations are just so complex.   “Your will be done” is the obvious answer, and a good one, but that can’t be the only prayer we utter.  To pray meaningfully we need to be informed, if for no other reason than our prayers should be matched by our actions, whether that be protest, compassion, sacrificial giving or acts of mercy to name but a few.

For most of my adult years I led churches to pray for peace in Northern Ireland, and then it happened. These days, its prayer for peace in the Middle East, characterised as before by moments of encouragement followed by predictable setbacks.  But one thing has helped me pray – and its this.  The most complex problems can often be boiled down to a few key men and women who have it in their power to make decisions that could literally change the course of human history.  These men and women are State leaders, opinion shapers, change agents, persons of influence. 

Whatever the nature of the storm, however wild, no matter how large, boil it down to the handful of people.  Then pray for them!  They stand at the eye of the storm and whatever their personal contribution to the nature of the crisis, they need prayer.

Today we received a letter from Nabil Costa (r), Head of our Lebanese Baptist partner organisation. Nabil is a man after God’s heart and God has placed him in a position of influence in the Middle East. Take a moment to read his letter.

Dear friends,

This is a critical week for Lebanon as the Lebanese President General Michel Suleiman leads  consultations with parliamentary groups re the appointment of a new Sunni prime minister.

Yesterday night, and at the end of the first of a two-day mandatory consultations, the streets of Beirut, Tripoli and other parts of the country witnessed different manifestations of protest. Lebanese people went to bed yesterday night not knowing what to expect in the morning, yet -  and not surprisingly so - they woke up to yet another normal day of work, school, etc…   Praise God! The Lebanese Army is very alert and on top of things, and we continue to get the sense that everyone is keen on maintaining security in the country.  Again, we stand encouraged and hopeful.

In such days, listening to the news – whether local, regional or international – can be quite alarming especially that each news agency has its own agenda and affiliation.  As I think of the state of panic that one can get into while switching from one channel to the other attempting to make sense of things, I am thankful that God is in control and focus on His promises and His word in Philippians 4:6 “Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything; tell God your needs, and don’t forget to thank Him for His answers.”   Our country needs leaders after God’s heart.  Difficult?! Not for God! We pray and await His intervention.  

I believe that as Christians we are to hold on to His promises that we may not be overtaken by the sense of panic and confusion that disables us from doing the work that He has called us to do.  May God give us wisdom to guide our countrywomen and men to put their trust in the Lord and not in human leaders  - that they may have peace.

• Please pray for the consultation process and outcome  - that His will may be done.
• Pray for the people of Lebanon - and the Lebanese Army.
• Pray for the Body of Christ in our country – that we may not be distracted from doing the work that He has called us to do; that our lives -  at all times -  reflect the Source of our peace.

Thanking you for your care and prayers.

In His grip,

Nabil

As you close this page, say a prayer for Lebanon, for Israel/Palestine, for Christian/Muslim tensions in the region, and for nations who do not trust each other. 

I have no idea how your prayer will change things.  But its what Jesus told his disciples to do.  That’s good enough for me.

David Kerrigan

the cosmic comma

(From Hopeful Imagination posted earlier today)

Last week we spent a day with Stuart Murray-Williams looking at Anabaptist history, theology and spirituality and its possible implications for BMS. It was a fascinating day, well presented, easy to engage with and highly relevant.

In the middle of the day came one of those nuggets you remember, something that stops you in your tracks. Reflecting on the centrality of the life of Jesus to Anabaptists, Stuart made the observation that the historic creeds of the church so often ignore the everyday life of Jesus.

For example, we are familiar with the line from the creed “…born of the virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate…” to which Stuart added ruefully “the whole of life between birth and death reduced to a comma!”

Pop that in your pipe and smoke it!

The incarnation is about God Immanuel coming to share our life. That life was not simply the preamble to his death, nor just the necessary passage of time that needed to elapse before ‘the hour has come’. Jesus came not just to die but to show us how to live, and God knows we need help knowing how to live!

Maybe our mission, 'should we choose to accept it', is not to mention the death of Jesus in a Christmas sermon this year. When our message is condensed to ‘he came to die’ we perpetuate the mistake of the cosmic comma.

Instead, enter into the Advent story and help people imagine how Jesus developed in his mother’s womb, how he grew and began to learn carpentry and scripture side-by-side, maybe a playful boy but certainly a thoughtful one. How else would he be able to hold his own with the Rabbis in the temple at the age of twelve years?

Tell people about how later in life he loved to share meals with people, rough diamonds we might say, and how he taught in a way that captivated the masses but alienated those with power.

Find the words to describe the trembling fear of the woman accused of adultery, all of life before her but now screaming with nausea at the vile death that seemed inevitable. Find a way of describing her unbelief at the mercy she found in Jesus.

Take people to the Sermon on the Mount and help them struggle with the command to love your enemies, and turn the other cheek. Do it with the bible in one hand and the daily newspaper in the other.

Talk about weddings in places like Cana. Talk about feasts and festivals, about fried fish and fresh bread, and the biblical importance of hospitality.

Advent is about life. Its about travelling in the winter, having a baby in the frost, wondering about the future, being very poor. It’s about breast-feeding and exhaustion and finding some swaddling clothes for the poor mite in the barn.

Its about infant cries and mother’s sighs and Joseph feeling inadequate and unsure.

Tell people about the comma! Tell them about life.

There’ll be time enough for death.

David Kerrigan