Tag: Gordon Brown

Mission in the Bible 3: Blessing the Enemy (2 Kings 5:1-14)

As I explain in the video, I’m not actually preaching this sermon in a church this weekend as it’s unsuitable for a baptism service I’m taking. However, I wanted to keep the series on mission going, using this passage. What follows is actually a sermon I first preached in 2007, as you may guess from some of the examples given.

2 Kings 5:1-14

Introduction
In early 2005, we realised that Debbie’s car, a Peugeot 306, was no longer going to be functional as family car. It was insufficiently like the Tardis to cope with the amount of clutter we needed to cart around with two small children. Through friends and family, we were quickly converted to the virtues of a ‘people-carrier’.

We short-listed three different cars: a Vauxhall Zafira, Renault Scenic and a Citroen Picasso. Despite three recommendations for the Zafira, we eliminated it as too expensive and with too small a boot.

That left the Scenic and the Picasso. For a while, we couldn’t tell the difference between them in appearance, but we settled on the Picasso and once we bought one we found that whenever we were out we were always spotting Picassos on the road. Had they suddenly increased in number once we became interested in them? No; we had simply become more tuned into them.

Sometimes I find reading the Bible is like that. It isn’t until I get interested in a particular issue that I realise how much of the Bible reflects that concern, or is relevant to it.

I had one of those experiences this last week. You will know by now that one of my concerns is how we are faithful Christian witnesses in a society where Christianity is no longer central, but on the margins. We live in a culture whose values have been changing rapidly in recent decades. The Gospel may not change, but many of our old ways of being church have become obsolete.

I have read the story of Naaman and his healing since Sunday School. Perhaps you have, too. However, this week when it came up in the Lectionary I found it was no longer a charming Sunday School story. It was a model for mission in today’s world. I see it, because the story is set in a time when Israel was under the cosh from Aram (verses 1-2). A pagan nation with alien values has mastery over the people of God. Within these strictures, fruitful mission happens – just as it can in our day when forces are pushing the church to the margins of society. This week we saw the church-state ties loosened as Gordon Brown relinquished some powers over the appointment of bishops other senior clergy. It opens up again the whole issue of the Church of England’s established status – and in my Methodist opinion, that’s a good thing.

So in this context, where the church is less central to our society, how does the story of Naaman encourage us in our mission? I find it by exploring the three Israelite characters connected with him: the slave girl, the king of Israel and Elisha.

1. The Slave Girl
How many of us were shocked by the news a couple of days ago that a three-year-old girl was kidnapped in Nigeria? Perhaps we need to think of something like that to understand the horror of what happened when this young girl was taken captive by the Arameans in 2 Kings 5. Granted, she is probably older than three, given the way she speaks, and neither is she being threatened by death. However, if you want a sense of the horror, think Nigeria.

Yet in this situation of trauma and oppression, the young girl is a star:

She said to her mistress, ‘If only my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy.’ (verse 3)

Here is a wounded, marginalised person offering love. Here is one who as both child and female has no status, yet she offers love. Forgiving love and compassion for one who has done wrong to her, her family, her religion and nation. Truly, a little child leads here, as she blesses an enemy.

How does this translate for us? Isn’t one of the dangers of being a minority that has been sidelined more and more that all we want to do is carp and snipe at the society that has done this to us? We criticise this, we declaim about that and we lay into something else. If we’re good, we pretend we are offering a prophetic critique of the world, but if only we were. More likely, we are laying bare the chip on our shoulder and giving energy to the resentment we feel that people no longer see the church as an institution whose opinions should be sought and respected.

The young slave girl says, bless those who have done this to you. Look for ways to love and serve them. Search out opportunities to tell them the good news – not that God can’t wait to singe them in Hell, but that he is crazy with love for them and passionate that they find him.

When I ministered in Kent, there was a branch of Ottakar’s bookshops in Chatham High Street. They regularly displayed and promoted occult books. Alongside the display there was sometimes the opportunity to sign up for occult meetings. I shared this with a prayer meeting. The response was interesting. I thought they would be the kind of Christians who would want to instigate a prayer march against the shop, and perhaps a letter-writing campaign, too. They didn’t. Their immediate response was to pray that God would bless the shop and its employees, because that would be a better way of making a gospel difference.

For us, our ‘Naaman’ might be an unpleasant boss at work. What might happen if we showed Christian love and concern for that boss’s needs and difficulties? Or today’s Naaman could be an unjust political group or multinational corporation. How might we show the love of Christ to them? (And this is the end of International Boycott Nestlé Week!)

I am not saying we should never criticise or boycott, but we have to be sure our motive is God’s love, not vindictiveness. The slave girl reminds us to love and make a difference.

2. The King Of Israel
Naaman goes to his king, who prepares a letter for his opposite number, the king of Israel. Leave aside for a moment the naïveté that assumes the Israelite king can heal the soldier. We have to excuse that as innocent ignorance: it’s something Christians encounter often from people who make requests of them. I often find it comes in terms of expecting that the minister can do something, which another Christian can’t. There is no point in criticising this: we cannot expect complete understanding of our ways.

What is more disappointing is the king of Israel’s response. He doesn’t give a theological lecture – that would be bad enough. Instead, he goes on the defensive:

When the king of Israel read the letter, he tore his clothes and said, ‘Am I God, to give death or life, that this man sends word to me to cure a man of his leprosy? Just look and see how he is trying to pick a quarrel with me.’ (verse 7)

The king of Israel cannot see human need for what it is and respond appropriately. It is as if he knows the story of the Trojan Horse and sees Naaman’s illness as the way in which Israel will be further weakened.

Is that so far from some of our responses as a Christian minority today? I don’t think so. There are those who think we shouldn’t support environmental causes, because we become ‘guilty by association’ with some crazy green campaigners who happen to think that planet Earth is actually a goddess named Gaia, and we shouldn’t get our names tarnished by working with such fruitcakes. The fact that there is ample biblical material for being environmentally conscious should be enough: God calls us to be stewards of the earth, not rapists of it.

Alternatively, consider how long it took some Christians to become concerned with fighting HIV/AIDS, because of its association with sexual practices that lie outside traditional Christian morality. Thank God that mentality has changed through the example of organisations like ACET AND TEAR Fund, who hold orthodox Christian beliefs, but are at the forefront of medical prevention and political campaigning.

In a world packed with terrible needs, it would be spiritual suicide to follow the example of the king of Israel. It’s no good getting on our high horse about certain moral evils in our society, but doing nothing to heal the pain.

But let’s bring it close and personal. Who are the people we know, who have made a mess of their lives, perhaps through their own fault, but whom we have been resisting the idea of helping? Is now the time to see that we have made a mistake and need to reach out with Christian compassion? For Debbie and me recently it’s been about being available to two pregnant women: one is living with her partner and already has one child by him, the other had a second child on her own without ongoing involvement from the father of either child. Neither of these women lives lifestyles with which we agree as Christians. However, would it surprise you if I told you that one of these mothers is now asking questions about baptism?

3. Elisha
Surely the story is going to end up with Elisha performing an amazing miracle. It builds up that way. The slave girl calls him ‘the prophet who is in Samaria [who] would cure [Naaman] of his leprosy’ (verse 3). The writer of 2 Kings describes Elisha as ‘the man of God’ (verse 8) and Elisha himself urges the king of Israel to forward Naaman onto him so ‘that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel’ (verse 8).

Therefore, it’s a surprise when Naaman arrives at Elisha’s house and the great man doesn’t come out to greet him, but sends a messenger, telling Naaman to wash seven times in the Jordan (verse 10). What’s going on?

Here’s my theory: Naaman has some kind of superstar complex. He’s miffed that the spiritual hero won’t come out to him (verse 11), and he’s insulted by the thought of washing in that feeble, insignificant river the Jordan. He’s got celebrity rivers back in Damascus – the Abana and the Pharpar (verse 12). So not meeting Elisha and suffering the indignity of the River Jordan force Naaman away from this hero-worship attitude.

And isn’t that just what we need today? We live in a culture that needs to be weaned off celebrity adulation, and where people – ooh, let me think, Chantelle Houghton and Paris Hilton – are merely famous for being famous. So addicted are we to this that an informed politician like Al Gore needs to utilise gas-guzzling pop stars to communicate his planet-saving message. By a conspiracy of insignificant non-celebrity Christians, operating without spin doctors or street teams, armed only with the love of Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit, we subvert a sick culture and bring healing in the name of Jesus.

And that means that the church needs to be healed of her own addiction to celebrity, too. We may not have the hype and publicity tools available to entertainers and politicians, but there is an unhealthy reliance upon famous Christians and Christian leaders. We believe, however, in a priesthood of all believers, and so it’s time to stop this dependency upon such people and realise this is a call to all Christians.

In fact, one Christian leader from the Southern Hemisphere, Alan Hirsch, tells a story in his recent book, ‘The Forgotten Ways’ about the early growth of a church he and his wife led in Melbourne. It did not happen under their leadership, but before they arrived. George the Greek was a drug dealer who once chose prison instead of a fine for his crimes. While there he read the Bible and God encountered him. Upon release, George and his brother John set about sharing their faith. Within six months, fifty people had become disciples of Jesus. There were gay men, lesbians, Goths, drug addicts and prostitutes among the converts. No Christian celebrity or authority figure did this: just George the Greek and his brother John, loving people into the kingdom.

Conclusion
Ultimately, this takes us full circle, back to the young slave girl, who blessed her needy, oppressive master. She, Elisha’s messenger and the river Jordan are the heroes of the story. Elisha knows well to get out of the way rather than garner praise for himself; sadly, the king of Israel sets no example at all.

For we who are squeezed daily further to the margins as Christians in our society, the message is clear: a generation of nobodies, operating from the fringes of our culture, is God’s apostolic team for the salvation of the world and the healing of the nations. This morning, as we take Holy Communion, we enlist for that call.

0

Sermon: Love, Jesus-Style

John 13:31-35

One thing you learn early as a preacher is when to turn the lapel microphone on. In my case, I check that the sound operator will fade my microphone down during the hymns, as I wouldn’t want to add to the congregation’s agony by inflicting my singing on them. Many and legion are the stories of preachers who turned on the microphone too early, disappeared to a small room before the service, only for the entire congregation to learn where they had gone.

Sadly, our Prime Minister has not learned that lesson. This week, Gordon Brown has been The Preacher In The Loo.

I refer, of course, to what has become known as ‘Bigotgate’. I pass no comment on whether Gillian Duffy’s question about eastern European immigration was racist, nor on whether the PM was right to call her a ‘bigoted woman’. Nor do I deny that many people in all kinds of occupations let off steam about difficult individuals when they [think they] are in private.

But what I think cannot be denied is that the Prime Minister was two-faced. When talking with Mrs Duffy, he praised her to the heights, but made his disdain for her known afterwards. If he had simply maintained a level of politeness with her publicly but not told her how wonderful she was, this might have been a lesser incident, rather than a potentially defining moment in the General Election campaign. Anyone who holds a position of responsibility that depends in some way on the favour of those you are meant to lead will surely have some sympathy with Mr Brown, because you sometimes find yourself having to be polite to someone when you’d rather not be. But Gordon Brown went beyond that to the point of contempt, in my opinion.

At the same time, isn’t it frightening to reflect on all those who have been quick to criticise, as if they wouldn’t do anything of the sort? Some chance. No doubt they are correct to say that the Prime Minister is a man with a hot temper – there seem to be too many other stories confirming that. But are we to imagine he is the only politician like that?

Isn’t it something, then, that we come to a famous passage in John’s Gospel this week about love? There’s never much love lost in a General Election campaign. The handshakes at the end of the televised leaders’ debates have to rank amongst the most insincere you will ever see.

But what about us in the church? Let’s go back to those words of Jesus:

I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.’ (Verses 34-35)

I simply want to reflect on two aspects of this teaching about love. Firstly, what is ‘new’ about this new commandment? I think that’s a fair question to ask. It’s not the first command to love in the Bible. It’s not even the only reference to it in Jesus’ teaching. Elsewhere he was asked what the greatest commandment was. He replied that it was to love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind and with all your strength. He then sneaked in a second one: love your neighbour as yourself. So hasn’t he already made the command to love plain?

I find that comes over to me strongly in one of the Methodist communion services, where we speak of hearing the ‘commandments’ before we confess our sins. What commandments do we read? These two – to love God wholeheartedly and to love our neighbours as ourselves. Then, tacked on after them, we hear the command in today’s reading, to love one another. How in heaven and earth can Jesus add a new commandment onto the two he has given as combining to form the greatest commandment? As the great theologian Tom Jones might put it, “What’s new, pussycat?”

Principally what is new here is a new standard of love. Our standard for love is the example of Jesus. ‘Just as I have loved you, so you should love one another’ (verse 34). If we want any idea of what love means, we need to look at Jesus and how he loves. It wouldn’t take us long to think about a number of ways in which the love of Jesus challenges us to deeper love.

To begin with, take the way in which he took on human flesh and lived among us to bring God’s redeeming love to us. ‘The Word became flesh and dwelt among us’ (John 1:14) or in Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase, ‘The Word became flesh and blood and moved into the neighbourhood’.

When I was serving in my first circuit, there was a painful split at the local United Reformed Church. Some had good and necessary reasons for leaving a damaging situation. Others left, they said, to set up a new church on a poor housing estate where there was no church building. They began to hire the St John’s Ambulance hall and hold services on a Sunday afternoon. However, they made little impact on that community.

It wasn’t hard to see why. None of these Christians moved onto the estate. They commuted in from their more comfortable estates every week. They weren’t prepared to pay the price of love that Jesus paid in becoming flesh and dwelling among the very people he wanted to love.

Because that is what love looks like, according to Jesus. You can’t love from a distance. Jesus loved close-up. It’s why I say we can’t expect to spread the love of God in this community unless we are taking that love into the community, rather than simply putting on attractive programmes here and expecting people to flock to our doors. Love Jesus-style doesn’t work like that.

It’s the same in terms of love for any person in need. In another previous church, we once had a mission team visit us for a few days. They partnered some of our members in visiting local houses and pubs, looking for opportunities to share the Gospel.

At the end of the time, we held a service, and afterwards I was sitting down, talking with a young mum who had just joined the congregation, along with her husband, daughter and son. She was telling me how she had lived in fear for the previous six months, because she had found a lump in her breast. Worse, by profession she was a radiographer and she was sure she knew what it was.

Sitting in the row in front was one of the mission team. He overheard this and swooped in with all sorts of platitudes about how she was failing to trust in God. Today, eleven years later, the memory of that incident still makes me mad. That mission team member made no attempt to get alongside Carolyn in her pain and fear. He just launched sentiments and Bible verses like missiles. He didn’t ‘dwell with’ Carolyn, as Jesus would have done. But that’s love ‘as he has loved us’. Hands get dirty. Time and energy are spent. Money and possessions are deployed for others. Because we move into the neighbourhood of those who need love.

Which means also that Jesus-style love is sacrificial. For, as we know, ultimately he loved us by laying down his life for the world. Love is a lot more than dewy-eyed teenagers looking forward to another romantic liaison. Love comes with a cost. It cost Jesus everything. It is hardly likely to cost us any less.

We know how seriously the early church took this. Famously one Christian from around the end of the second century to beginning of the third called Tertullian said, “We share everything except our wives.”

Another early story is of the Christian craftsman who, in order to make ends meet, had accepted a job to make idols for a pagan temple. When challenged about this by a church leader he replied, “But I must live!” The leader replied: “Must you?”

We could find countless examples from other places and times of Christians who knew that real love meant a willingness to sacrifice, even to lay down one’s life – because that is what Jesus had done in love for the world.

And that is why the second aspect of Jesus’ teaching in this passage is about the outcomes of love. Loving one another according to the pattern of Jesus isn’t just a new standard of love, it’s about a new order. The outcome is described in verse 35:

‘By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.’

The mark of the Christian community, according to Jesus, is love. It is what distinguishes us. Just as Jesus and the Father were so united with each other, so the Christian church is to be bound up as one with each other in mutual love. As the pagans looked at the early Christians and wondered, “See how these Christians love one another!” so that is not meant to have changed.

Some of you have told me examples of when such sticking-together, sacrificial love has been the gift of this church to you in times of need. Most notably I have heard people speak about such love here in bereavement or in chronic illness.

Nevertheless, it’s always good to be challenged and stretched. As Christians we cannot be complacent and opt for the kind of faith that is merely comfortable and just looks all the time to be patted on the back and sent on our way rejoicing. Given the importance Jesus places here on the world being able to tell that we are his disciples by our love for one another, it seems apt to raise a few simple challenges about our love for one another.

Let’s name a few, then. If Jesus and his Father were and are so at one in their love for one another, isn’t it time to drop all the talk about whether we are ‘pro’ or ‘anti’ a particular person?

Or – if we see how wrong Gordon Brown’s behaviour was towards Gillian Duffy, is it worthy of us to tell people to their faces how wonderful they are, all the while behind their back running a campaign against them?

Similarly, if we truly believe in love like Jesus did, can we treat people as objects, or as means to an end, or even just as bait to attract others?

And if love unites us, can we entertain the idea of cliques in a church?

Oh – and by the way, if these examples shock or surprise you, I have based every one of them on incidents or attitudes I have witnessed in Methodist churches.

What should we do? If we have hurt someone else and they know that it was us, then we need to ask their forgiveness. The sharing of The Peace in a few minutes’ time could be a time for that. If the boot is on the other foot, and we are the wronged party and the other person knows they have hurt us, then in love we need to offer forgiveness. Again, The Peace would be a good time to do this.

Naturally, if one party does not know about the hurt, that might not be advisable. If the other party is not present today, loving offers of reconciliation in repentance or forgiveness need to be offered outside this service.

If one party does not know about the hurt, then perhaps it is best simply to settle this privately with God, unless he directs us otherwise.

But however God leads us, let us remember this. It is not by our beautiful buildings that the world will know we are Jesus’ disciples. It is not by our attractive programme of events that the world will know we follow Jesus. It is by the quality of our love that the world will see our devotion to Jesus.

Nothing could be more important.

3

Religion And Statistics

Thanks to an email from my friend Pete Phillips I have found the British Religion In Numbers website, a project based at Manchester University. Before anyone trots out the old ‘lies, damned lies and statistics’ line, may I say that

(1) while I resist any idea that numbers and material measurability can completely interpret faith, this is a fascinating site; and

(2) Lies, Damned Lies are or were a very fine rock band.

There is a useful ‘news‘ section on the site, which functions as a blog.  Take, for example, this news story today, ‘Christians and the General Election‘. It reports an opinion poll sponsored by Premier Christian Media on Christian voting intentions. My instinct is that the likely figures are at least partly way off: 37% of Christians see David Cameron as the best choice for Prime Minister, 20% Gordon Brown and 6% Nick Clegg. 22% are undecided and 12% have no faith in any of the leaders. The figure for Clegg seems surprisingly low, even if the poll was conducted before his performance in last Thursday’s first ever televised leaders’ debate. Apparently, ComRes interviewed 423 Christians and balanced the results to reflect the 2005 Church Census. Does this reflect Christian disquiet about Clegg’s atheism, or are the stats just bonkers? Whatever, I look forward to more stimulating material from this site.

2

We Love The NHS

I may have been critical of our current Labour Government again on Wednesday, but I am generally supportive of them when it comes to the NHS. Some of the recent attacks from the States (and even here) look dumb in the extreme. Can we just remind the Investor’s Business Daily that Stephen Hawking is both British and alive, for example? (Even the corrected version of the article, to which I have just linked, doesn’t fully correct all the facts and still leaves room for doubt about the role of the NHS with respect to the brilliant scientist’s health.) And as for the views of Conservative MEPs Daniel Hannan and Roger Helmer that we should abolish it because 80% of Americans get better health care, well hang on: for all the faults of the NHS (and I’ll come to some of them), a Christian has to remember not just the 80% but the 20% – that is, the poor. Oh, and twice as much GDP is spent on health care in the US than here. Who is going to campaign to double our spending, even on top of the rises under the current administration?

So it’s not surprising that Gordon Brown, the Prime Minister who ‘got down wiv da kids’ by making policy announcements on YouTube, has now sent a message of support to the Twitter campaign #welovethenhs. Of course it’s political that he does so, but – hey – I actually agree with him here. (Just as I do on his concern for the welfare of the poorest nations in the world.)

Why? For theological reasons. We are our brother’s and sister’s keepers. That has to be seen corporately. I have had it argued to me in the past by conservative American Christians that it is the sole preserve of the church to offer healthcare and healing to society. Yeah, right. Because that is going to cover everyone, isn’t it?

Less cynically, although I come from the Arminian theological tradition and am therefore meant to view almost everything John Calvin said with suspicion, I find value in his concept of ‘common grace’ – that the sun shines on the righteous and unrighteous, as Jesus said. Surely health and healing would be among such common blessings.

Personally, I have benefitted from the NHS. Most recently in major terms, it was the nasal surgery I had in May (a septoplasty and submucus resection, for those who like the medical swearwords). That surgery corrected a lifetime’s breathing problem. Nobody questioned me about the level of my medical cover, or whether my premiums were paid. I was simply treated. Then, a week ago, on the night before going away on holiday, I began to suffer pain in the right rib area. A phone call to NHS Direct led to advice that I should attend our nearest Accident and Emergency unit at a nearby hospital. They soon reassured me I didn’t have the feared spontaneous pneumothorax (OK, I’m showing off, that’s a collapsed lung) but had something close to a torn abdominal muscle. Triage, chest x-ray, time with a doctor, all without question, through until 2 am from dedicated professionals. Then away on holiday the next morning. First class.

No, it isn’t perfect, and I have some issues with it. The ‘postcode lottery’ is a common concern. For the uninitiated, this refers to differing policies in different areas, resulting in some people being eligible for treatment in their location but others in another area not being, perhaps due to age or general priorities.

Then there are issues of the budget being used up for causes that give me moral problems. The widespread use of abortion is the obvious one. Some uses of cosmetic surgery might be another. I could easily add othercontentious treatments to this list, and I apologise for just brief comments – however, the purpose of this paragraph is not to go into fine detail, but simply to mark up the fact that I have concerns about several significant areas.

But let’s get it straight. Supporting the NHS does not make you a Marxist, so let’s ditch that bit of ignorant propaganda that seeks to label people rather than engage with the issues. That kind of nonsense makes it sound like McCarthyism is back from the dead. Most Christians in the UK of various political and theological persuasions would concur that being in general favour of the NHS (whatever particular quibbles we have) is thoroughly consistent with Christian principles.

6

One Rule For Them, Part 2

Downing Street won’t disclose whether Gordon Brown has applied for a Criminal Records Bureau check in order to undertake voluntary work this summer. We don’t know what the work will be, so we don’t know whether he would have to, but Number 10 won’t give any more information for ‘obvious reasons’.

Yes, so obvious that nobody can see what they are. If it’s straightforward unpaid work with children or vulnerable adults, what does he have to hide? Isn’t that the line politicians give us about new restrictions on our liberty? If we have nothing to hide, we have nothing to fear. Except Gordon, apparently. Remember, this Government has recent form in this area.

Harriet Harman suggests applying ‘common sense’ to MPs’ need to be vetted – the very thing they (rightly) deny to the general public. It’s still double standards, just like claiming accountancy expenses. Not that you can trust the Criminal Records Bureau, mind you.

Do I have it in for this shower? I don’t particularly expect a Conservative administration would be morally superior, not on the day when shadow Commons leader Alan Duncan has been exposed complaining that MPs live on ‘rations’. But this is the bunch exercising power at present, and it’s only right they be held accountable. But then, that’s something they aren’t keen on, are they? And power without accountability is lethal. They may just have to settle for the next General Election.

3

The BNP And The European Elections

I detest the policies of the BNP. ‘Scum’ might just about be the word. Believing in a God who loves all peoples, who sent his Son to bring redemption to all, a Son in whom there is neither Jew nor Greek nor any other distinction, I have no doubt that the BNP’s message is fundamentally anti-Christian. Just when I didn’t think they could be any worse, they had the gall to identify themselves with Jesus as unfair recipients of persecution in recent advertising.

So you can imagine I was as horrified as many others yesterday to read that they had won two seats in the European Parliament. It has to be one of the worst days in modern British public life. And I understand why thousands, if not millions, have raised their voices, sharing a similar horror at this outcome.

But I am worried, too, by the patronising tone of some criticism. There is a decidedly middle class lecturing slant to some of it. We presume to tell those who voted for this evil party what they should and should not do. And one thing we ought to know by now is that lecturing is an unwelcome stance in British politics. You want to harden an opponent in their beliefs? Go ahead and lecture them. Don’t bother to examine their fears, however unfounded you might consider them to be. Because unless you deal with the fears in some way, they will take upon themselves the ‘persecuted’ label that the BNP sought for itself in its propaganda.

I think I saw my anxieties best described by Bishop Pete Broadbent in this quote on Twitter:

What happens with protest votes is that they go to the most likely opponent. Working class whites do BNP; others do Green/UKIP

What can we do to listen to the fears of working class people who have been driven into the arms of the BNP by mainstream parties whom they clearly feel do not represent them? The middle classes will doubtless argue it is not fair to compare their fleeting affairs with UKIP or the Greens with the BNP, because they are more ‘moral’ parties. Is there a touch of superiority complex going on?

You certainly notice smugness in other comments on yesterday’s results. I’ve lost touch of how many Labour Party representatives put the drastic collapse in their vote just down to their supporters staying at home. Of course, they couldn’t imagine voting for anyone else, could they?

Can we set an agenda in response to yesterday that adopts a tone of humility? Is there still any chance of that in British politics? I know Gordon Brown admitted to some mistakes when he spoke to the Parliamentary Labour Party yesterday evening, but even then you have to wonder whether those were the words of a master political fighter pulling every trick to hang onto his job.

Or are things less bad than I think? What say you?

37

Sabbatical, Day 6

I haven’t really done any sabbatical work today. Friday is usually my day off, and I’ve kept it much like that. I think it’s good to keep the rhythm. So after taking the children to school, I stayed on, because on Friday mornings I do twenty minutes’ reading with a group of Year 1 children.

Late morning, Debbie and I headed into town. We needed some more bargain school uniform for the monkeys and struck gold at Marks and Spencer. Yes, really. Then we continued our recent habit of having a cheap lunch out together. Yates’s Wine Lodge (why do they put that extra ‘s’ after the apostrophe?) had a two-for-£7.95 deal, and it was good for the price. The downside was the company at the next table. Two young women with a pre-school boy. One was his mother, poor lad. All sorts of unsavoury conversation that youngsters shouldn’t hear. Debbie swears one of them got him to drink a mouthful of her shot. Some kids don’t have a chance.

Meanwhile, I have been following all week the case of Caroline Petrie, the Christian nurse who was suspended for offering to pray with a patient. She offered prayer, the patient declined, Mrs Petrie did not pray. The patient was not offended, but told someone else she thought it was strange. Next thing, Mrs Petrie is under investigation. She has previously been disciplined for offering prayer cards. The Daily Mail reported this on Monday,as did the Daily Telegraph. On Tuesday, the Mail reported support for her case from the Royal College of Nursing and the Christian Medical Fellowship. Today, the Mail reports her reinstatement, but – along with the Telegraph – also quotes a further potentially sinister development. The Department of Health published a document last month in which it warned that doctors or nurses who attempted to preach to patients or other staff would be treated as having committed harassment or intimidation under disciplinary procedures.

Furthermore, I have received a press release today from the Evangelical Alliance in which Hazel Blears, the Government’s Communities Secretary, told faith groups that if they accept money from the state, they must not use it to proselytise. They may speak about their faith if spoken to, she says, but clearly taking the initiative to mention it would be forbidden under a forthcoming ‘charter of excellence’. She then says she doesn’t want to strip away the very reason why faith groups show compassion! The Alliance’s Director of Public Policy, R David Muir, responded:

“The Government wants the social action and welfare that faith groups provide, but there is a danger that they also want faith groups to leave their beliefs at the door.

“Our faith is what equips us as Christians to provide support and compassion to those who are spiritually and emotionally damaged by debt.

“But we are glad that the Government recognises how integral our faith is to the services we provide, and is open to discussion on this critical issue. We look forward to working with them.”

All round, then, seem to be threats against Christians making the first move in sharing their faith and using it to offer comfort and hope to people. Here are a few random reflections:

1. None of this should surprise us. Whatever the faith of Blair first and now Brown, the Labour Party runs these days on a fundamentally secular humanist creed. Let’s here none of that ‘the Labour Party owes more to Methodism than Marxism’ mantra. It may have been true in the past. It isn’t today. Christians should expect such opposition.

2. Nevertheless, none of that should stop us crying ‘foul’. All these cases are about discrimination against the freedom of religion the Government supposedly signed up to when it ratified the European Convention on Human Rights. And while part of me is wary of the secular philosophies behind that document, the Government clearly doesn’t want to accept that sauce for the goose is a tasty accompaniment for the gander as well.

3. We also need to reflect upon ourselves. How much of this might we have brought upon ourselves through insensitive ‘witnessing’? Please note, I’m not saying Mrs Petrie was. I don’t know her, and the fact that she didn’t press on with a prayer for her elderly patient when the offer was declined suggests that while she is upfront with her faith, she is probably not the aggressive sort. Nevertheless, most of us know Christians whose demeanour in faith-sharing makes us cringe, let alone what the non-Christians feel.

4. However, an attempt to prevent us from taking the initiative is effectively a tactic to shut us up. I believe we have to earn the right to speak by loving, holy, just action, but that does not mean we cannot speak first or simultaneously as well.

5. The ‘public money’ argument is specious. It’s not Government money, it’s taxpayers’ money. And while we elect officials to use it, they are stewards, not owners. Do they think Christians should not pay their taxes? This kind of argument amounts to an attempt to strip us of our democratic voice.

6. There is a huge case of historical amnesia here. As today’s Mail article rightly points out, many of our hospitals were explicitly Christian foundations in their origin. In the church we would want to say more than that, in crediting the rise of the infirmaries and more recently the hospices to Christian vision. So to tell a nurse her faith must come second forgets the origin of much health care in this country.

7. Furthermore, no Christian can put her faith second. I am fond of telling the story of an elderly Local Preacher from my home circuit. He was interviewed for the post of Secretary to the local Co-Operative Society. “Where will you put the Co-Op in your loyalties?” the panel asked him. “Second,” he replied, “to the church of Jesus Christ.” I don’t think he meant that all his time would be spent at church, I think he meant that his faith would determine his life. He got the job, and did it well.

8. Nevertheless, putting our faith second puts us under suspicion in society. There is huge historical precedent for this. It’s what Daniel did, praying towards Jerusalem while serving faithfully in Babylon. It’s the centuries-long suspicion of Catholic loyalty to the Vatican. In the name of what is currently calle ‘community cohesion’, authorities call people together to a common loyalty that is effectively a secular creed. Hence other phenomena in our society today, such as the opposition to faith schools, or the legislation that has made it increasingly difficult to have organisations that are exclusively staffed by Christians. Do we cave in? The biblical answer seems to me to be ‘no’. However, that means accepting the consequences. We’re not remotely near the situation Christians found themselves in when communism ruled eastern Europe, but there it was well known that people of faith would not get on well with their careers and would suffer economically for their beliefs. Might we be seeing the thinnest end of that wedge here, or is that alarmist?

I think that’s enough from me. What are your thoughts?

10

The Debt Trap

Jon Ronson has a powerful column in today’s Guardian about the tragedy of the debt mountain in our nation. He traces it back, not only to the scandalous behaviour of financial institutions in the way they target the most vulnerable, but to one man who admits he thought he was doing something good but unleashed a monster. That man is the well known evangelical Christian Lord Griffiths. He sounds repentant. I hope he is.</p.

But Lord Griffiths is no longer in political power. (He was an adviser to Margaret Thatcher.) Might we dare hope that another Christian politician, Gordon Brown, might make tackling this a priority?

And might we Christians tackle the underlying issues with a witness that you can be fulfilled without having all the latest things? Of course that would undermine our entire economy, which is not based on need but upon want …

0

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

Up ↑