imagine if...

Sunday morning, we went to my Dad's church because it was his last Sunday there before he moves to a new church.  As part of his sermon, he talked about some of the metaphors Jesus used to describe "The Kingdom of God".  As I've mentioned previously, I've been struggling for a while with how useful the phrase "Kingdom of God" is for us today.  I fully understand the need for us to talk about the way things function if we lived God's way, but thinking about a Kingdom is not easy for someone who doesn't really live in a Kingdom, and for those who do, it's not necessarily helpful, for other reasons.  As that post notes, Brian McLaren suggests the "dream of God" as one alternative (which I've found very helpful) to talk about the Kingdom, so I've decided I'm going to do some regular blogs along this line with this title of "imagine if..."

Dad talked about how yeast and seeds are both small, hidden, and yet absolutely vital for transformation.  Imagine if the church saw itself with that mindset - small, hidden, and yet absolutely vital for transformation - how much differently would it function?  

This obviously flies in the face of a lot of popular church growth theory, which says that to be vital for transformation, a church needs to be big and obvious - numbers, building, signage, on TV, in people's face.  I'm not having a go at any of those things - some churches have the ability to do those things well, and have a great impact because of it.  However, is that what all churches should be aspiring for, or should we be aspiring to be smaller, hidden communities, who are transformative because we are yeast in the dough, or seeds in the soil?

One of the things I love about our faith community that we're in the very early stages of planting is that we want that to be at the core of who we are - small (as in not a big building, nor a big name - numbers are up to God), hidden, working away behind the scenes, but absolutely vital for the transformation of our city.

Imagine if... 

choose... life

I've had one of those mornings this morning - you know, the ones where you feel like you're swimming in concrete, it takes ages to do anything?

Examples - I bought a new scooter (so happy to save so much money!), and went to fill it up at the petrol station.  I usually go to Mobil when I'm on the scooter, and when I used to be on my ZZR, because you can pay at the pump, and don't have to take your helmet off, etc.  So, I go to the station, pay at the pump isn't working, so I have to go in to pay.  When I go in, the attendant realises that the guy who just paid (driving a Calais) gave him the wrong pump number (accidentally?) - mine.  You'd think either the guy buying the petrol or the guy selling it would have realised that it costs more than $7 to fill a Calais... So, the attendant has to go out, get the guy to come back in, charge him the extra... you get the picture.

Eventually, I get back on the scooter and managed to snag every single red light on the way into town - no exaggeration, every one. 

Then I get into town and our wireless wasn't working properly... sigh (obviously it is now).

Now, clearly none of those things are a big deal, but I can get frustrated pretty easily at stuff like that.

2 weeks ago at our feast gathering for church, we talked about Moses' glorious words from Deuteronomy 30:15-20, in which he reminds the Israelites that as they enter into the Promised Land, that's not going to be the end of their need to make choices, and he challenges them to choose life (v 19).

We talked about how we need to make choices every day, and we are continually presented with opportunities to choose options that give life, contrasted with choosing options that take life.  

As I was sitting at one of the (many) red lights this morning, I decided to make a choice, to take the opportunity to soak up the sunshine, to marvel at the contrast of the green trees against the blue sky, to choose life.  I also reflected on how blessed we are to be able to make choices, and that the way we respond is really up to us.

boxing God

Last night at our feast gathering for church, we did a fantastic reflection based on Isaiah 53, and Mark 8:27-30 - discussing who we understand Jesus to be, and how easy it is for us to shape our understanding of Jesus on something that is so much smaller than he actually is.  

As a way of practically reflecting on that, we bought some chinese food boxes, and Josh, our Creative Curator asked us to reflect on the ways in which we keep God in a box, then to open the box out and reflect on the characteristics of God that we struggle with.

It was very helpful, and very powerful.  I was especially challenged to reflect on the ways in which, by putting Jesus in a box, I limit his ability to act.  It's not that Jesus doesn't have the power, but are there times that I, by my small-mindedness (or should that be small-boxedness?) limit Jesus' ability to use that power in my life or in the situations I find myself in?  

Who do you say Jesus is?  What's in the box?

viva la vida

I bought the new Coldplay CD the other day, and I really like it.  It's quite different to their previous albums, but I love some of the time and feel changes they've got throughout.

My favourite song from the album is the title track, and I've spent a bit of time lately thinking about why I really like the songs I love, like this one.  Where I've come to is that many of the songs I enjoy the most are ones that really build - songs like Viva la Vida, Straight Lines by Silverchair, Knights of Cydonia by Muse.  There's something great about the way in which a song starts low, then gradually builds to a musical explosion... awesome.

It seems to me that life, at its best, is full of a similar feeling.  We move through periods where the music dies down, then gradually starts to build (and our expectation with it), leading up to a key moment, where something significant happens, then the music starts to die down again, before rebuilding and starting again.

Just like with music, if it was pumped the whole time, or if it was quiet the whole time, life would get boring - it's the changes in tempo, feel, and the crests and troughs that make life enjoyable.  Sure, sometimes we'd prefer it would build a bit quicker, or die down earlier, but if we (I!) can learn to ride the waves, and appreciate the subtle changes, and where it is taking us, I'm sure it would be so much easier to enjoy life.  

Viva la Vida! 

priorities

The other day, I purchased a new heater for our church.  Because we're in the city, I bought it from the Mall, and walked back to our base with my big heater in a box - feeling more than a little self-conscious.

As I was walking down the Mall, there was a homeless guy, who was selling The Big Issue (a street magazine designed to help the homeless and unemployed help themselves).  I said hi to him, and he made a comment "looks like someone will be warm tonight".  

It smacked me right between the eyes as I walked away that this guy had a different perspective than me.  The first thing he thought of when he saw the heater was warmth (which makes sense), but warmth and home.  That wasn't even on my radar when I bought it (I was simply fulfilling a task, really), and, to be honest, I felt terrible.

It's so easy to take so much for granted, and forget how lucky we are.