first think tank discussion night of the year!

We are very excited about this. On the 20th of March we will be discussing the reason why so many young adults feel disconnected from the institution of church. This is an important to discussion to be having about this crucial and often misunderstood demographic.

On the night we will be engaging with a lot of recent research around this area, conducted by individuals in New Zealand and overseas, but largely with the work done by the Barna Group. Many of their findings are extremely insightful.

If you are a parent, a church leader or a young person wrestling with faith and you don't feel like the church is addressing the important stuff, please come along and be a part of this discussion, because every story matters.

We need to talk!

chase Him.

I've been reflecting heaps on what I said on Sunday. I still stand by acknowledging the general trend that the church seems to be buying into the experience based culture around us. I feel that it makes it hard for the church to help produce genuine disciples when people are so used to being spoon-fed as it can be modeled in a church service.

However, I'm anxious to get across that experience in itself is not a bad thing - it is vital. We worship a God who reveals Himself in space and time, and a relationship is experiential. The danger with making a point like I did is that it can sound like I'm saying that experience is for yuppies but contemplation, thinking well and good theology is the important stuff.

That is definitely not true.

In many ways it is unhelpful to separate those things into two camps (I experience God often through theology, contemplation and thinking well). Good theology and ordering of our ideas about God can be freeing in itself because (if done well) it can rid us of oppressive theologies and unhelpful notions that distance us from God. But there is a difference between knowing God and knowing about Him. I don't just want to read about John listening to the heartbeat of Jesus. I want to hear it myself. I don't just want to read about God speaking to Moses face to face like friends. I want to speak with God like that myself.

When I was in high school I remember praying things like 'Lord I want to know your voice intimately, I want dreams and visions, I to see into the supernatural.' I wanted to know God deeply. I even remember praying 'Lord I want to be more intimate with you than anyone in history.' These prayers seem childish now, but somehow they also seem exactly the sort of prayers I should always be praying.

I've been reading a book called 'Abba's Child' by Brennan Manning. The book has affected me emotionally in more ways than any other book that I can remember. Here is a story that he relays in the book - I read it this morning and burst into tears:

Once I related the story of an old man dying of cancer. The old man's daughter had asked the local priest to come and pray with her father. When the priest arrived, he found the man lying in bed with his head propped up on two pillows and an empty chair beside his bed. The priest assumed that the old fellow had been informed of his visit. "I guess you were expecting me," he said.
         "No, who are you?"
         "I'm the new associate at your parish," the priest replied. "When I saw the empty chair, I figured you knew I was going to show up."
         "Oh yeah, the chair," said the bedridden man. "Would you mind closing the door?"
         Puzzled, the priest shut the door.
         "I've never told anyone this, not even my daughter," said the man, "but all my life I have never known how to pray. At the Sunday Mass I used to hear the pastor talk about prayer, but it always went right over my head. Finally I said to him one day in sheer frustration, 'I get nothing out of your homilies on prayer.'
         "'Here,' says my pastor reaching into the bottom drawer of his desk. 'Read this book by Hans Urs von Balthasar. He's a Swiss theologian. It' the best book on contemplative prayer in the twentieth century.'
         "Well, Father," says the man, "I took the book home and tried to read it. But in the first three pages I had to look up twelve words in the dictionary. I gave the book back to my pastor, thanked him, and under my breath whispered 'for nothin'.'
         "I abandoned any attempt at prayer," he continued, "until one day about four years ago my best friend said to me, 'Joe, prayer is just a simple matter of having a conversation with Jesus. Here's what I suggest. Sit down on a chair, place an empty chair in front of you and in faith see Jesus on the chair. It's not spooky because He promised, 'I'll be with you all days. ' Then just speak to Him and listen in the same way you're doing with me right now.'
         "So, Padre, I tried it and I've liked it so much that I do it a couple of hours every day. I'm careful though. If my daughter saw me talking to an empty chair, she'd either have a nervous breakdown or send me off to the funny farm."
         The priest was deeply moved by the story and encouraged the old guy to continue on the journey. Then he prayed with him, anointed him with oil, and returned to the rectory.
         Two nights later the daughter called to tell the priest that her daddy had died that afternoon.
         "Did he seem to die in peace?" he asked.
         "Yes, when I left the house around two o'clock, he called me over to the bedside, told me one of his corny jokes, and kissed me on the cheek. When I got back to the store an hour later, I found him dead. But there was something strange, Father. In fact, beyond strange, kinda weird. Apparently just before Daddy died, he leaned over and rested his head on a chair beside his bed."

And I'm in tears again. This is the cry of my core, to know you more.

worship in an experience based culture

Had an interesting night on Sunday night! Tried a few different things. Despite good feedback  I'm still not sure about how I feel about it, or in what ways people are chewing over stuff. I would love to hear what people thought! If you missed it, the talk can be found here:

we become what we worship.

Just a little taster for Sunday. Maybe a little provocative. I don't know. See you there!

JD Dutton: Community

As humans it would be pretty fair to say that we desire, and perhaps even need, community right? I mean think of all the communities and groups we fill our lives with; church, life groups, friends, work colleagues, sports teams, hobbies groups, and of course Facebook. God’s pretty into community too. God himself is community, the Father the Son and the Holy Spirit, each performing different roles but coming together in unity. God also desires community with us. Because of sin this community is broken. We read in Genesis how Adam and Eve were banished from the Garden of Eden due to their sin, an act which cut them off from eternal life with God. Fortunately the story doesn’t end there. All throughout the rest of the bible we see God trying to reconnect with his people. In the Old Testament we have the priests and the prophets, God reaching out to reconnect with the Jews. Then in the New Testament Jesus comes along and through his death bridges the gap between us and God. Here God reaches out to reconnect not only with the Jews but to the Gentiles also, to all those who believe. The writer of Hebrews begins Hebrews chapter ten by addressing this very fact...

“Day after day every priest stands and performs his religious duties; again and again he offers the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins. But when this priest (Jesus) had offered for all time one sacrifice for sins, he sat down at the right hand of God, and since that time he waits for his enemies to be made his footstool. For by one sacrifice he has made perfect forever those who are being made holy”. Hebrews 10: 11-14.

So here the writer points out how Jesus as our priest makes us clean once and for all, welcoming us into a perfect relationship with God. The writer of Hebrews then goes on to encourage us to be in community, not only with God, but with each other also. Now remember this was a community that was similar in many ways to ours. The time when this was written is probably somewhere around 60AD, so it’s likely that much of the church community were second generation Christians. A lot of them had probably grown up in the church and didn’t know anything different. Maybe they were starting to take their faith and the church for granted, possibly because they hadn’t gone through the same persecution that their parents had (see Hebrews 10:32-34). They also lived in a society that was full of Emperor worship and other gods. Perhaps some of them were reaching a point in their lives where they were thinking, “Yeah, I don’t really know if this is for me”, and they wanted to go and try out some other religions or lifestyles. I wonder if this attitude is also held by many young adults today. Are we guilty of giving up community with each other because we want to discover what else is out there, what “works best for me”? The writer of Hebrews encourages us not to do this but instead writes:'

“And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the day approaching”. Hebrews 10: 24-25.

This is probably a verse that many of you have heard before. I think we often look at it and just see the middle bit about “not giving up meeting together”. You might be thinking right now “Phew! Glad you picked that verse JD because I come to church every Sunday, I’m sorted”. Ah not quite. If we look at the type of community in this passage like a ham sandwich it’s like you’ve stocked up on the ham but forgotten the bread. Without the bread it’s not a sandwich, it’s just ham.

Sometimes we can view the church community like a jar of marbles. We’re like the marbles, the jar is the church. We come together and might get shaken up a bit we’re not really changed by the experience. Hebrews 10:3 talks about the ritual of animal sacrifice as an annual reminder of sin. I wonder if we see church in a similar way. Maybe we just see it as a bit of a ritual. Or perhaps church, for us, acts as a reminder as well, a reminder of our sin or our community in Christ. I’m not saying this is a bad thing. Actually meeting together to remember our community with God and how Jesus come to establish that community is one of the reasons why community is important. The writer of Hebrews asks us to do more than this however.

There are two other key practices that the writer points out in Hebrews 10:24-25. Firstly he encourages us to spur one another on toward love and good deeds...love and good deeds. So does that mean we should go up to our mates and say, “Hey bro, you know how there’s that chick you have a crush on, well I think it’s time you go and ask her out. Oh and chuck some good deeds in there, you know like shower before you meet her and open the door for her...” Ok so that’s probably not what it’s talking about here. We could look at these words as an encouragement to keep each other accountable though. Now we often think about accountability as telling each other what not to do. Like we’ll hear one of our friends swear and we’ll be like “Hey, I don’t think you should be doing that because the bible says we should honour God with our mouths”. Hebrews points out however that accountability is about more than just reminding your fellow Christian of the stuff ups they’re making. It’s also about challenging each other to be loving and to do good deeds. The second point also comes in here, the point of encouraging one another. So we are called not only to meet together but to challenge and encourage one another also. A community like this is more like a jar of grapes. We come together, get shaken up, and leave changed. The grapes get broken, mixed together and get covered in each other’s juice. They have been influenced by the other grapes and they in turn have influenced others. We are encouraged to be a community that actually connects with each other. Ok so you’re probably thinking, “But they’re damaged! Those grapes got bruised and broken!” True, a community of grapes is vulnerable, but it’s through coming together and challenging and encouraging each other that we grow. You see the jar of marbles is like a group of individuals, but the jar of grapes is like a community journeying together. It’s a community that acknowledges we are all vulnerable and broken, but also that we have something of value inside us that is worth sharing.























Ecclesiastes points to a similar community. Let’s remember that it is Solomon writing here. This guy had power, wealth, and influence. Yet here he has come to the end of his life and realized that none of this can make him happy, that it is all meaningless. He is probably also thinking “Yeah having 1000 wives probably wasn’t the best idea I ever had”. What he suggests instead is that the only meaningful thing worth pursuing is community with God and with each other.

“There was a man all alone who had neither son nor brother. There was no end to his toil, yet his eyes were not content with his wealth. “For whom am I toiling,” he asked, “and why am I depriving myself of enjoyment?” This too is meaningless – a miserable business! Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labour: If they fall down they can help each other up”. Ecclesiastes 4:9-10

Solomon first points out here that striving for our own gain or profit is useless but that community is worthwhile. he gives is that if He then gives three examples of why community is better. Firstly he reminds us that if two are together and one falls down the other can help him up. When I read this I think of two people working in the field together or walking along a road carrying a heavy load. Then I thought, okay maybe it’s a bit like tramping. You’re walking along and the track’s a bit slippery and you fall over. Now with a heavy pack on you’re going to have a bit of a mission getting back up on your own. With someone to help you it’s a lot easier though, right? This is also a bit like journeying together in faith. It’s like being there to help each other when we are going through tough times and about caring for each other.The next example Solomon gives is Ecclesiastes 4:11:
“Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone?”

Yes that’s right the bible promotes spooning! In all seriousness though, we see in this example a community that is meeting each other’s physical needs. There is perhaps a reminder here that we should be looking out for the physical, as well as spiritual, needs of those we are in community with.

Let’s look at the last example, Ecclesiastes 4:12.
“Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.”

Here Solomon points out how two can defend themselves against the attacks of the enemy. We could extend this concept to persecution or to spiritual warfare, with the idea that in community we can better defend ourselves against discouragement and other spiritual attacks. The image I’m going to use here is the chopstick. On its own it can be easily broken but if you tie several chopsticks together then the bunch becomes really strong. We can see in this how those in community are much stronger under pressure. The chopsticks are also a good example because on its own a chopstick is pretty useless. The only way you can really use a chopstick on its own is by stabbing your food. Many people in fact find this use of the chopstick offensive. I wonder if God views our desire to go it alone offensive as well. We are actually designed to function only when in community with others. Only when the chopsticks work together can they dominate a big bowl of Noodle Canteen.

The interesting thing about the three examples Solomon gives is that they all involve mutual relationships. Verse 10 suggests that both parties are looking out for and caring for each other. We get the impression that they are journeying side by side and that if either of them slips up (whether literally of in the spiritual sense) the other one will be there to pick them up and get them going in the right direction again. Verse 11 suggests that both parties are helping each other to survive. Both parties can make it through the cold of the night because their heat is helping the other keep warm. Verse 12 likewise suggests that both parties are safer as they are able to help each other overcome attacks. In all of these examples it’s not simply about how I can benefit from you but more importantly how we can benefit equally from working together.

Maybe we’ve been viewing community in the wrong way. I think quite often we can look at community in terms of “what can I get from this?”, or “how can I benefit from this?” But what Hebrews and Ecclesiastes show us is that community isn’t about me, it’s about us. It’s actually about what I can give to build others up, not about what I can take. Let’s also remember that when Hebrews says “do not give up meeting together” it’s not talking about rituals, it’s talking about relationships.

So here are some thoughts to reflect on:

• After looking at these verses is there anything you personally need to change about the way you interact with other young adults at Windsor?
• Why do you think young adults struggle with this whole idea of community? Why are so many leaving church?
• Do we actually need to reassess the way we view/approach this concept of “meeting together regularly?"

If you'd like to listen to JD's talk from Sunday (and it is awesome to listen back and to hear everyone laughing and clapping together), you can find it here:

this God.

This God could put on eyebrows and kneecaps, tear ducts and saliva glands.

This God could be born under the tyrants Augustus and Herod.

This God could accept the smells of shepherds, and the extravagancies of political emissaries.

This God could start life a vulnerable hunted child born into scandal.

This God could grow up under foreign domination
and among terrorists and outcasts.

This God could sit in the street playing marbles.

This God could wear with pride the calloused splintered
hands of an honest workman building the houses and fixing
the furniture of half-castes, outcasts and bigots.

This God could ask his cousin to baptise him along with
the rest of the crowd.

This God could make the best vintage Pinot Noir or
Cabernet Sauvignon even when the guests were too
drunk to know the difference.

This God could befriend a bloke in a tree with small man syndrome.

This God could enjoy a sinful woman washing his feet,
giving her his full and undivided attention, and ignoring
the eye-rolling of lawyers and theologians.

This God could spend a whole night making a whip to crack over
the backs of con artists who rip-off the poor.

This God could wrap the greatest truths in the simplest stories,
and put a sting in the tail of every yarn.

This God could let himself hang on a tree, nails tearing
at his sinews, every muscle screaming, the weight of the world
upon his shoulders, life slowly draining away.

This God could invite women to be the first to know that he was back.

This God could delay his own glorious homecoming long enough
for a bite of breakfast on the beach and a yarn with an old mate to let him
know there were no hard feelings and to pass on his mantle.

This God could take his own story and give it the most surprising ending.

This God, this God, is worth knowing.

This God could reach into the crevices of my soul to bring to life
the longings I smother so pathetically and recklessly with shame and excuses.

This God could raise me up to life with him.

This God could give me every blessing he could give himself.

This God could draw me out of my petty self-interest and sad little excuses
without even a hint of a 'tut-tut', a frown, or a patronising smile.

This God could be more infuriating and fascinating and gobsmacking
than any god I could ever make up.

This God could love my obsessiveness and overlook my forgetfulness.

This God could laugh and cry with me, and come play with me.

This God could make me his glory.

This God could love me.

This God could make my heart good.

This God could trust me.

This God could never be safe, but always be good.

This God, this God, is worth knowing.

This God I want to know.

This God I know in the face and Spirit of Jesus.

- Mark Strom

Instead of trying to understand Jesus by trying to place our ideas of God on to Him, why don't we try to understand God by first looking at Jesus?

the gift of faith

There is nothing we can do about it; we're all shaped by our stories. We are moulded by the experiences and conversations we interface with every day, and this shapes our thinking. The way we see the world is not based solely on a collection of reasoned decisions, but by a multi-layered, complex collection of ideas that we have consciously and subconsciously adopted to help us navigate through this world.

My story has a lot of its roots in evangelical Christianity, with a lot of input from the charismatic movement that has swept across the West. I owe a lot to the people behind it all who challenged a lot of cessationalist thinking and largely opened the door to experiencing the Holy Spirit in personal ways. This meant that I have been grown up taking these things for granted. Healing is cool but no big deal, speaking in tongues doesn't send me running for the nearest door and the power of God is alive and well beyond metaphor and the pages of history.

From my observations, however, it seems that despite all of this great impact, some things get a little muddy and confusing when trying to put all this experience together with the God revealed in the Scriptures. One of these things that often confuses me is the way that people use the little word 'faith'.

From being part of the evangelical world for the last 25 years, it seems to me that most of the time it's used to describe a sort of Christian 'power up' token. You are able to obtain new abilities and wield God's sovereign power, as long as you have enough faith points stored up. You can build up more faith points by praying really hard for it, by working yourself up to do something really scary or by watching Benny Hinn every morning.

Now obviously I'm being a bit facetious, but the essence remains. It has led some of my church leaders to say things like 'I have faith for this' or 'God has given me a gift of faith for this situation' and ask their congregations 'Do you have faith for this, church?' But what are they really saying here? I never knew how to answer that last question. What is faith and how do I know if I have (enough of) it? I'm still fairly confused by this way of using the word. Is it some mystical positive mindset? Is it an excitement that I get when I think that God might just do something cool? I just don't know.

Now I know what you're thinking: 'Sam, it's simple. Read Hebrews 11. Faith is being sure of what you hope for and certain of what you do not see.' But when you read that verse on its own like that it can be twisted and used along with all the talk we discussed just before. You can hope for whatever you want! If you give Hebrews 10 and 11 a good look you'll see that it is rooted in an epic story of people who trusted in the promises of God and acted on them. They were looking to the day when God is to make everything right. It wasn't wishful thinking dressed up in spiritual language, but an obedient action in light of what God had actually said to them.

There is a bit difference in trusting in God and trusting Him for the things you want.

Francis Schaeffer in his book 'He Is There and He Is Not Silent' talks about faith like this:

Suppose we are climbing in the Alps and are very high on the bare rock, and suddenly the fog shuts down. The guide turns to us and says that the ice is forming and that there is no hope; before morning we will all freeze to death here on the shoulder of the mountain. Simply to keep warm the guide keeps us moving in the dense fog further out on the shoulder until none of us have any idea where we are. After an hour or so, someone says to the guide 'Suppose I dropped and hit a ledge ten feet down in the fog. What would happen then?' The guide would say that you might make it to the morning and live. So, with absolutely no knowledge or any reason to support his action, one of the group hangs and drops into the fog. This would be one kind of faith, a leap of faith.

Suppose, however, after we have worked out on the shoulder in the midst of the fog and the growing ice on the rock, we had stopped and we heard a voice which said, 'You cannot see me, but I know exactly where you are from your voices. I am on another ridge. I have lived in these mountains, man and boy, for over sixty years and I know every foot of them. I assure you that ten feet below you there is a ledge. If you hang and drop, you can make it through the night and I will get you in the morning.'...The historic Christian faith is not a leap of faith because He is not silent...

Not a leap of faith based on positive thinking, but based on a relationship. Based on obedience. Let's be clear on our Christianese!

slippery slope?

On the back of the last blog post, I thought I would post something that I came across on the interwebs this week. This article by Rachel Held Evans is called 'They Were Right (and Wrong About the Slippery Slope) and is certainly challenging in engaging with God and (heaven forbid!) our brains at the same time. It certainly has its resonances with my journey.

As you read this article, ask yourself the question again: what is my rock? What is my foundation? Am I able to hold on to some beliefs a bit more loosely? Use this to think on, and to ask yourself some questions. This won't be helpful for everyone!

 Enjoy!

They said that if I questioned a 6,000-year-old earth, I would question whether other parts of Scripture should be read scientifically and historically. 

They were right.  I did. 

They said that if I entertained the hope that those without access to the gospel might still be loved and saved by God, I would fall prey to the dangerous idea that God loves everyone,  that there is nothing God won’t do to reconcile all things to Himself. 

They were right. I have.  

They said that if I looked for Jesus beyond the party line, I could end up voting for liberals.

They were right. I do (sometimes).  

They said that if I listened to my gay and lesbian neighbors, if I made room for them in my church and in my life, I could let grace get out of hand. 

They were right.  It has. 

They told me that this slippery slope would lead me away from God, that it would bring a swift end to my faith journey, that I’d be lost forever.

But with that one, they were wrong. 

Yes, the slippery slope brought doubts. Yes, the slippery slope brought change. Yes, the slippery slope brought danger and risk and unknowns. I am indeed more exposed to the elements out here, and at times it is hard to find my footing.  

But when I decided I wanted to follow Jesus as myself, with both my head and heart intact, the slippery slope was the only place I could find him, the only place I could engage my faith honestly. 

So down I went. 

It was easier before, when the path was wide and straight. 

But, truth be told, I was faking it.  I was pretending that things that didn’t make sense made sense, that things that didn’t feel right felt right.  To others, I appeared confident and in control, but faith felt as far away as friend who has grown distant and cold.

Now, every day is a risk. 

Now, I have no choice but to cling to faith and hope and love for dear life. 

Now, I have to keep a very close eye on Jesus, as he leads me through deep valleys and precarious peaks.  

But the view is better, and, for the first time in a long time, I am fully engaged in my faith. 

I am alive. 

I am dependent.

I am following Jesus as me—heart and head intact.  

And they were right.  All it took was a question or two to bring me here.