I took bread and wine.
I gave you thanks.
I broke the bread.
I shared it with all those there.
Simple. And yet also profound.
Sunday 10th July was the first time I was able to preside at a celebration of Holy Communion. Unlike many of those ordained on that day, I had not received authorisation to preside at communion - and possibly even more unusually, the fact that I hadn't an authorisation wasn't my own choice.
Methodism in many ways contains much that is pragmatic, and one sign of this is the attitude to communion. For Methodists, typically there's one communion service per month per church; any less than that though and a Circuit can ask Conference to give an Authorisation to someone who is not an Ordained Presbyter to preside at communion. This might be a Probationer, maybe in the past a Deacon (although that's not really what Deacons are about and so it's very, very rare now), even a Lay Person - I have known all three happen. This will seem strange to those in many traditions, some (such as Roman Catholic and Anglican) unhappy about the idea of anyone other than an Ordained Presbyter involved, others (such as Baptists) wondering what all the fuss is about and why we have to have this system anyway.
For me I don't personally have a problem with this. One of the traditional (Protestant!) Marks of the Church involves proper administration of the Sacraments; I am happy to interpret this as allowing the Methodist Conference to so authorise people to preside, especially as it does take some care to ensure there is a genuine need for the requested authorisation.
This has though placed me in the position of acting as Minister of my churches for two (in one case three) years without being able to preside at Communion. I have found this something that, especially over the last few months, I have been longing to do. It has confirmed me in my calling as much as anything, and I have in some ways found it to be a gift - for I feel that I can approach this aspect of my ministry in a way that I may not have done when I started out. I have for example realised that I hold a rather higher view of the sacraments than I had previously thought - although maybe not as high as some of those within Methodism; I'm not about to join the Methodist Sacramental Fellowship for example, although I respect their position.
So when it came to Sunday it was truly a celebration. People from all three of my churches gathered together, and in the gathering it seems all found enrichment - I'm still getting comments back about how wonderful the occasion was. For me there was a sense of rightness, of doing as God has called me to do; of celebration, as I was finally able to fulfill that call; of rejoicing, that all were prepared to come together (which is for me one of the important parts of what communion is all about); but above all, that it was a fantastic opportunity to praise and worship God, and to celebrate what Christ has done for us.
I can only hope, as I prepare for a future where leading communion services will be a minimum of four times a month, that that same sense of reverence, of worship, and of sharing, will always be a part of my presiding at communion. Lord, let me never take this gift - and my calling to be the channel of it - for granted......
Tuesday, 12 July 2011
Thursday, 7 July 2011
Reflecting on Ordination
Last Sunday saw my calling as a Methodist Presbyter affirmed in two very important ways: First, I was Received into Full Connexion, and then, at Liverpool Cathedral, I was Ordained. At both, my calling was powerfully affirmed: the first time as all those there rose to their feet, at the second by the whole congregation saying of myself and the 12 other Ordinands, "They are worthy". Both were moments to bring a lump to the throat, and with the many people covering every aspect of my life present at Liverpool it was an experience both celebratory and humbling.
This in many ways marks the end of a long journey - and yet it also becomes the start of a new one. When I look back, the seeds of this were sown not much short of 20 years ago, while I was still a fairly recent convert to Christianity and a teenage University student; the first signs of growth came in the mid to late 1990s as I began training as a Local Preacher, being fully accredited at the end of 1999.
It was that year that I knew, beyond my own doubt, that God was calling me and what to be. It wasn't that I hadn't before, but now I couldn't ignore it. A diversion into being a Circuit Steward - and getting married! - later, and I was all ready to apply at the start of 2004.
Except I had missed the deadline for that year. So it was the autumn of 2004 when I applied, early in 2005 when I was accepted for Foundation Training, and September before I went to the first day - a Saturday at Withington, as Luther King House was booked out! There I met others who shared part or all of this journey with me. It was a joy to be ordained with one of those I met that day, but in some ways also a shame that I was unable to go and support my friend who was Ordained Deacon on the same day.
I could go on and on about the training, but suffice to say that after six years it was a great relief when the Probationers Committee passed me. I was pretty sure they would - and I even managed to get them laughing, as when invited to ask them any questions I pointed out that there was really only one I needed the answer to - "Am I in?"
Preparations had been in hand already, but the path was still not to be smooth. The venue chosen was the smallest, and the only one within walking distance of Conference; the tickets made available disappeared fast enough that no-one beyond my personal allocation (plus my in-laws who were waiting on the website as soon as it opened) was able to get any. After a short flurry of activity involving ordinands, District Chairs and others, some of us were switched to the largest venue - Liverpool Cathedral.
So much then seemed to happen that the weeks went by at a blur; then, the week before Ordination, it all had to stop as I joined the other Prebyteral Ordinands on retreat.
The Retreat was exactly what I needed: a time to stop, to reflect, and to address some of my own feelings. I'm sure that a number of us were thinking - as I did - of those that wouldn't be there on Sunday. So there was some sadness, but also much blessing: when, during a communion, you feel someone come and sit down next to you even when you know full well there is no-one physically there, when it's almost like a physical shock, and you realise that you are in Christ's presence, how can you be anything but blessed?
And then it came to Sunday. Being part of an act of worship that would recognise me for what I have been called to be, but nevertheless centred on God. That encouraged me to be fully me - fully human - in God's service. That said, as everyone stood to affirm me, that my calling is true.
Then to Liverpool, and to a venue that in itself inspires awe. Meeting up with my Assisting Minister, who, exactly 52 years after his own Ordination, was making this one of his last public acts of ministry. Meeting up with people from every aspect of my life, who had chosen to come and support me whatever their own faith (or lack of it) might be. Being walked through where to go, where to sit, when to move. Being reminded by David Wilkinson in his sermon that although unworthy by myself, I am in fact worthy because the grace of God makes me so. And even right up to the point of preparing to move to the kneeler where Neil Richardson would Ordain me, there was the part of me saying - is this really happening? Am I really about to be Ordained? How can something I've worked so hard for for so many years sneak up on me unawares?
Receiving the Stole bought for me by my wife. Sharing in Communion with about a thousand people. And then, as we walked out back to the robing room, the applause, the cheers as we were welcomed by those who came to support each of us.
It hasn't really sunk in. The implications of what happened will take me longer to work out than I will ever have.
Now, Ordained to Word and Sacrament, I am preparing to do something for the first time: Preside at a service of Holy Communion. Unlike many of my fellow Ordinands I have not had an authorisation to preside - not because I refused, but because there was not sufficient need for my Circuit to make the request. In many ways I am glad: for this first time, this special time, will be an opportunity to celebrate with my churches at the start of this new aspect of what will be my life-long ministry. It is an aspect that I have had three years in Circuit to reflect on: and I can't wait to do this for them, the thing that I know God has called me to, and through the Holy Spirit enabled me for.
This in many ways marks the end of a long journey - and yet it also becomes the start of a new one. When I look back, the seeds of this were sown not much short of 20 years ago, while I was still a fairly recent convert to Christianity and a teenage University student; the first signs of growth came in the mid to late 1990s as I began training as a Local Preacher, being fully accredited at the end of 1999.
It was that year that I knew, beyond my own doubt, that God was calling me and what to be. It wasn't that I hadn't before, but now I couldn't ignore it. A diversion into being a Circuit Steward - and getting married! - later, and I was all ready to apply at the start of 2004.
Except I had missed the deadline for that year. So it was the autumn of 2004 when I applied, early in 2005 when I was accepted for Foundation Training, and September before I went to the first day - a Saturday at Withington, as Luther King House was booked out! There I met others who shared part or all of this journey with me. It was a joy to be ordained with one of those I met that day, but in some ways also a shame that I was unable to go and support my friend who was Ordained Deacon on the same day.
I could go on and on about the training, but suffice to say that after six years it was a great relief when the Probationers Committee passed me. I was pretty sure they would - and I even managed to get them laughing, as when invited to ask them any questions I pointed out that there was really only one I needed the answer to - "Am I in?"
Preparations had been in hand already, but the path was still not to be smooth. The venue chosen was the smallest, and the only one within walking distance of Conference; the tickets made available disappeared fast enough that no-one beyond my personal allocation (plus my in-laws who were waiting on the website as soon as it opened) was able to get any. After a short flurry of activity involving ordinands, District Chairs and others, some of us were switched to the largest venue - Liverpool Cathedral.
So much then seemed to happen that the weeks went by at a blur; then, the week before Ordination, it all had to stop as I joined the other Prebyteral Ordinands on retreat.
The Retreat was exactly what I needed: a time to stop, to reflect, and to address some of my own feelings. I'm sure that a number of us were thinking - as I did - of those that wouldn't be there on Sunday. So there was some sadness, but also much blessing: when, during a communion, you feel someone come and sit down next to you even when you know full well there is no-one physically there, when it's almost like a physical shock, and you realise that you are in Christ's presence, how can you be anything but blessed?
And then it came to Sunday. Being part of an act of worship that would recognise me for what I have been called to be, but nevertheless centred on God. That encouraged me to be fully me - fully human - in God's service. That said, as everyone stood to affirm me, that my calling is true.
Then to Liverpool, and to a venue that in itself inspires awe. Meeting up with my Assisting Minister, who, exactly 52 years after his own Ordination, was making this one of his last public acts of ministry. Meeting up with people from every aspect of my life, who had chosen to come and support me whatever their own faith (or lack of it) might be. Being walked through where to go, where to sit, when to move. Being reminded by David Wilkinson in his sermon that although unworthy by myself, I am in fact worthy because the grace of God makes me so. And even right up to the point of preparing to move to the kneeler where Neil Richardson would Ordain me, there was the part of me saying - is this really happening? Am I really about to be Ordained? How can something I've worked so hard for for so many years sneak up on me unawares?
Receiving the Stole bought for me by my wife. Sharing in Communion with about a thousand people. And then, as we walked out back to the robing room, the applause, the cheers as we were welcomed by those who came to support each of us.
It hasn't really sunk in. The implications of what happened will take me longer to work out than I will ever have.
Now, Ordained to Word and Sacrament, I am preparing to do something for the first time: Preside at a service of Holy Communion. Unlike many of my fellow Ordinands I have not had an authorisation to preside - not because I refused, but because there was not sufficient need for my Circuit to make the request. In many ways I am glad: for this first time, this special time, will be an opportunity to celebrate with my churches at the start of this new aspect of what will be my life-long ministry. It is an aspect that I have had three years in Circuit to reflect on: and I can't wait to do this for them, the thing that I know God has called me to, and through the Holy Spirit enabled me for.
Wednesday, 6 July 2011
Summing up - home from Conference
I've rather dipped in and out of Methodist Conference. Living an hour away and with young children, I decided to leave at Lunch on Monday, came back a similar time on Tuesday, and then left for good just as the afternoon session was starting on Wednesday. What follows is my (not always serious!) reflection on the experience.
What a Conference-goer needs
What a Conference-goer needs
1) Bionic Arms, or alternatively a course of weights. The list of things you need can be considerable, and even just the Conference Agenda weighs enough to make Ryanair unhappy with your hand luggage. Three volumes of it, plus handbook, plus report on the Anglican-Methodist Covenant progress....
2) A large bag in order to put the various papers, leaflets, and freebies thrust at you (in the case of exhibitors) or left at the back to collect (for delegates needing order papers, notice of motion papers, daily record papers and the like). The one helpfully provided is only enough if you can empty it every night into a bigger one.
3) A hole punch, to allow you to place said order papers etc. in the binder provided. You need to keep them, as the previous day's order paper can often get referred to. Also, the resulting confetti can be used to greet the new President-Designate or other dignitary.
4) A Laptop or possibly iPad, preferably with a minimum 8 hour battery life. Assuming you can actually get on to the Conference WiFi, this allows you to pull up reports etc. from the Conference Website, and also interact with the multitude via Twitter.
5) An extra brain, to allow you to interact with the multitude vie Twitter while still following what Conference is doing. How the likes of Pete Phillips manage to do so is otherwise a mystery to me.
6) A sense of humour. In fact, this is probably more important than most of the above. Things can get intense, complicated and hard to follow - the occasional flashes of humour (or in the case of David Gamble presenting the Law and Polity matters this morning, full comedy routine complete with assisting cast) leaven the whole experience into one that yes, can be enjoyed.
A little more seriously, it can be extremely hard to follow what is going on if you've never been there before. I went to the "New to Conference" session on Saturday where Toby Scott (Media Director) tried to give us a bit of an overview and some of the jargon, and without it I would soon have been lost. Even with that, the jumping around from one volume of the Agenda to another, and the fact that for one of the days I didn't have the paper with Notices of Motion on it meant that it was a constant battle to be in the right place in terms of looking at what was being discussed. The fact that the screens on either side tended to show you page numbers helped no end, but as a visitor (albeit with some extra privileges) I had no table to spread things out on meaning a constant juggling act.
I was overall pleasantly surprised by the way things worked. Toby had told us of how fast Conference can move, of how hard the delegates work, and he's right - it does move fast. At the same time this isn't necessarily at the cost of discussion - speakers may only have a very limited amount of time, but this does mean that they tend to get to the point fairly quickly, and while not every speaker was able to speak in some debates one imagines it is a long way from the times when Conference would debate an issue and then Mr. Wesley would tell them what to do from the Chair no matter what had been said. The agenda runs to more than 1000 pages, and yet by the end of tomorrow morning the vast majority of it will have been covered - and this since Monday Morning!
I have already mentioned of how the occasional bit of humour enlivens proceedings, but the other thing is that the Conference was by no means dry and dull. Substantive issues were discussed; important things about where we as Methodists are going, what we are doing, and whether we are fulfilling God's work. I came away not bored, but inspired; there are people within Methodism who burn with passion for Social Justice, Peace, Reconciliation, Equality, and many other important issues - and they are not just speaking to a group of people about them, they are doing them and encouraging the whole church to join them. We have been encouraged to stand alongside the poor, the elderly, the young; to consider how we reach out to those on the margins of the church and the society; to work not to make members to keep our churches open, but to make disciples that will likewise want to serve God's purposes. I have been inspired by the Vice-President's Sermon at the Conference Communion Service to think about creating some sort of visual (possibly video?) meditation about breadmaking. (Don't hold your breath though....)
In many ways the answer to anyone who questions the need for Conference could well be to find a way to engage with it. And that is getting easier as Conference and Delegates get a bit more tech-savvy. Now, many sessions of Conference are webcast live and can even be watched again - and the number tuning in is in the order of 150 at times. The Twitter Feed (using the tag #methconf) has been busy, with more than 100 tweeters and busy points seeing a new tweet every 17 seconds. Many of those are more likely to be observing (as I was), and it provided a sort of ongoing commentary and back channel discussion - but some delegates were also involved although as I said before how the likes of Pete Phillips, Angela Shier-Jones and others were able to do so without missing something I don't know - they have my sincere admiration on that score.
That's not to say that some things can't be done better, or more effectively; Tuesday's experiment with Electronic Voting can only be a qualified success in my opinion, as it seemed to take too long for some votes and some items - notably one where a Notice of Motion was discussed, and then split a Resolution into two parts - were unable to be voted on electronically. An Agenda that runs as long as this one is unwieldy and surely a way must be found of reducing the length - good for carbon reduction too. But Conference works, and I have enjoyed being a part of it even if only as an observer.
Maybe, when the children are a bit older, I'll look to go back as a voting member. But for now - unless it's within striking distance for me, I'll just have to watch the live stream. Roll on Plymouth in 2012!
Oh, and I seem to have left at least one mark on Conference. One of the exhibitors had a Formula 1 game set up with a steering wheel and pedals, with a prize for the "Fastest Rev". Unless someone beats it by lunch on Thursday, I have the fastest time - so I can certainly claim to be the fastest member of the 2011 Conference - virtually, anyway......
Tuesday, 5 July 2011
When is a Baptism not a Baptism? Reflection on a Conference Debate
One of the privileges of having been ordained at Conference is that you are given the opportunity to stay and watch it in action. Over the last couple of days I have been doing exactly that. And this afternoon, I found myself getting annoyed, maybe even angry.
In some ways this is a good thing as it shows that there are real issues being discussed here, things that are worth debating. However, despite a few tweets on the matter it's difficult to explain your thinking in 140 characters, so hence the first blog post for ages.
The debate in question was the one on reaffirmation of Baptismal Vows including the use of water. It may not sound a great title, but it certainly got me interested in part because it touched on something I addressed on this blog long ago - whether Baptism leaves a lasting mark.
The Faith and Order Committee seem to have done their best to provide a neutral background for the debate, and seemed to want to offer an opportunity for Conference to express its views. They also made it very clear what was being talked about here - not re-baptism, but re-affirming one's baptismal vows in a liturgy or form including water. The Conference debated, and then decided that they did wish this to be pursued - and that is where I was starting to get hot under the (clerical) collar.
There were a number of things that I wasn't convinced about during the debate, and others that were not always brought up.
First of all, where the request is coming from. Apparently it has been brought to a couple of District Chairs by Ministers who have been asked by people about being re-baptised. So the question arises out of a Pastoral concern. That's as may be, but the implication is as well as pastoral, theological - we acknowledge one baptism for the forgiveness of sins, so what would agreeing to re-baptise do? While the position on re-baptising hasn't changed and wasn't up for debate, the implication seemed to be that in order to meet this pastoral need we need to be able to offer something close enough to satisfy those that seek it - whether allowing someone to sign themselves with water from the font, or some other way.
This is not re-baptism, but one thing that does concern me is that it may be seen as such. There were mentions on Monday of how we have an internal dialogue in the Methodist Church (such as at Conference) and an external one with those outside it. Will those outside understand that this is not re-baptism? Will other Churches? I cannot answer with any confidence at all that they will. And if detailed explanations have to be made about why this isn't baptism, for me having water involved is only going to confuse matters.
What's wrong with instead working out how we explain and implement confirmation better? There is no reason why this can't be an equally powerful and spiritual experience; I found mine (at the age of 18, having been away from church for several years) to be an amazing, Spirit-filled experience.
Another point that I couldn't help but think as some speakers came forward and spoke of having to turn away people wanting to be re-baptised is that there is nothing to say that what is proposed would in any way give us something to offer them in any case. If someone comes and asks, in all earnest, to be re-baptised, and they are firm in their conviction that this is what they need to happen, we will still not be able to do as they wish.
I was also concerned about the image that was presented of people being told that we couldn't help them. I suspect that the limited time available for speakers prevented clarity on this, but nothing was said of working pastorally with those seeking re-baptism and exploring their need for and understanding of baptism.
I will look with some interest at what Pete Phillips and the Faith and Order Committee come up with, but I can't help but wish there were other options being explored - how about for example annointing someone with oil in an act of reaffirmation, healing and wholeness?
In some ways this is a good thing as it shows that there are real issues being discussed here, things that are worth debating. However, despite a few tweets on the matter it's difficult to explain your thinking in 140 characters, so hence the first blog post for ages.
The debate in question was the one on reaffirmation of Baptismal Vows including the use of water. It may not sound a great title, but it certainly got me interested in part because it touched on something I addressed on this blog long ago - whether Baptism leaves a lasting mark.
The Faith and Order Committee seem to have done their best to provide a neutral background for the debate, and seemed to want to offer an opportunity for Conference to express its views. They also made it very clear what was being talked about here - not re-baptism, but re-affirming one's baptismal vows in a liturgy or form including water. The Conference debated, and then decided that they did wish this to be pursued - and that is where I was starting to get hot under the (clerical) collar.
There were a number of things that I wasn't convinced about during the debate, and others that were not always brought up.
First of all, where the request is coming from. Apparently it has been brought to a couple of District Chairs by Ministers who have been asked by people about being re-baptised. So the question arises out of a Pastoral concern. That's as may be, but the implication is as well as pastoral, theological - we acknowledge one baptism for the forgiveness of sins, so what would agreeing to re-baptise do? While the position on re-baptising hasn't changed and wasn't up for debate, the implication seemed to be that in order to meet this pastoral need we need to be able to offer something close enough to satisfy those that seek it - whether allowing someone to sign themselves with water from the font, or some other way.
This is not re-baptism, but one thing that does concern me is that it may be seen as such. There were mentions on Monday of how we have an internal dialogue in the Methodist Church (such as at Conference) and an external one with those outside it. Will those outside understand that this is not re-baptism? Will other Churches? I cannot answer with any confidence at all that they will. And if detailed explanations have to be made about why this isn't baptism, for me having water involved is only going to confuse matters.
What's wrong with instead working out how we explain and implement confirmation better? There is no reason why this can't be an equally powerful and spiritual experience; I found mine (at the age of 18, having been away from church for several years) to be an amazing, Spirit-filled experience.
Another point that I couldn't help but think as some speakers came forward and spoke of having to turn away people wanting to be re-baptised is that there is nothing to say that what is proposed would in any way give us something to offer them in any case. If someone comes and asks, in all earnest, to be re-baptised, and they are firm in their conviction that this is what they need to happen, we will still not be able to do as they wish.
I was also concerned about the image that was presented of people being told that we couldn't help them. I suspect that the limited time available for speakers prevented clarity on this, but nothing was said of working pastorally with those seeking re-baptism and exploring their need for and understanding of baptism.
I will look with some interest at what Pete Phillips and the Faith and Order Committee come up with, but I can't help but wish there were other options being explored - how about for example annointing someone with oil in an act of reaffirmation, healing and wholeness?
Tuesday, 22 December 2009
A Carol Service Reflection
This was the reflection I used at the two Carol Services I led last Sunday - I thought I would share it here also!
Christmas is a time of contrasts. In our modern world, we go back to a story from 2000 years ago. In our Information Age, when the whole of human knowledge seems to be at our fingertips, we hear once again a story that we have heard every year. In the darkness of winter, we celebrate the coming of Christ, the light of the world. In a world that seems to stumble from crisis to crisis, we bring a message of hope.
The contrasts are all the more between our life today and the world into which Jesus came. We, by the standards that most in our world have, are rich; he was born in a stable. We have freedom to help choose those who represent us; he was from a nation occupied by a foreign power that had just ordered a census.
The images we have on our Christmas Cards – a radiant child, happy mother Mary, splendidly dressed Kings, tidy-looking shepherds, all in a Stable that looks warm, cosy and well ordered – they are a long way from the reality of the Christmas story that we have heard again today. Expectant parents today may be planning the best route to hospital, and worrying about whether they are as antiseptically clean as they should be; Mary faced a long journey, on foot or by donkey, that could hardly be ideal preparation – and then gave birth in what was probably a grimy, smelly, animal shelter.
This is so far beyond our own experiences that it is hard for us today to understand what it was like. And yet, today, we have heard the story again, and it still holds us. Why?
The answer is, for me at least, that ultimately it is about God’s love. God comes down as a baby, in humble surroundings, because of Love. God lives among us, sharing his love. God goes to the cross, to prove his love for shattered humanity. God comes to us today, calling us with words of love.
How are we to respond? How else can we respond, but to love in return? We find ways to share that love with others, devote ourselves to serving God, and in doing so serve others, not because it is our duty but because of the love that is within us. “We love, because God first loved us.”
Whatever else may be going on over this Christmas period, may the love of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit bless you and stay with you each and every day.
Christmas is a time of contrasts. In our modern world, we go back to a story from 2000 years ago. In our Information Age, when the whole of human knowledge seems to be at our fingertips, we hear once again a story that we have heard every year. In the darkness of winter, we celebrate the coming of Christ, the light of the world. In a world that seems to stumble from crisis to crisis, we bring a message of hope.
The contrasts are all the more between our life today and the world into which Jesus came. We, by the standards that most in our world have, are rich; he was born in a stable. We have freedom to help choose those who represent us; he was from a nation occupied by a foreign power that had just ordered a census.
The images we have on our Christmas Cards – a radiant child, happy mother Mary, splendidly dressed Kings, tidy-looking shepherds, all in a Stable that looks warm, cosy and well ordered – they are a long way from the reality of the Christmas story that we have heard again today. Expectant parents today may be planning the best route to hospital, and worrying about whether they are as antiseptically clean as they should be; Mary faced a long journey, on foot or by donkey, that could hardly be ideal preparation – and then gave birth in what was probably a grimy, smelly, animal shelter.
This is so far beyond our own experiences that it is hard for us today to understand what it was like. And yet, today, we have heard the story again, and it still holds us. Why?
The answer is, for me at least, that ultimately it is about God’s love. God comes down as a baby, in humble surroundings, because of Love. God lives among us, sharing his love. God goes to the cross, to prove his love for shattered humanity. God comes to us today, calling us with words of love.
How are we to respond? How else can we respond, but to love in return? We find ways to share that love with others, devote ourselves to serving God, and in doing so serve others, not because it is our duty but because of the love that is within us. “We love, because God first loved us.”
Whatever else may be going on over this Christmas period, may the love of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit bless you and stay with you each and every day.
Sunday, 25 October 2009
Not in my name - joining a chorus of disapproval
There is, quite rightly, a storm of protest brewing from Christians at all levels about the claim of BNP Leader Nick Griffin to represent "Christian Britain" - with former Archbishop of Canterbury Lord Carey one of the latest heavyweight figures to challenge his claim.
Whatever the rights and wrongs of the whole Question Time episode (and opinion seems to be changing daily on what the fallout might be) this claim of Griffin's is arrant nonsense and seems if anything to display a disconnection from reality. For example this article from 2006 includes research that shows that churchgoing is at a higher level among ethnic minorities than among what Griffin laughably describes as the "Indigenous population" - so Christian Britain (a term that Ekklesia points out means little in any case) is increasingly Afro-Carribean and African, particularly in the big cities - in London it's getting on for half of those who go to church, and in Manchester I can see the trend going the same way. And I rejoice that we have people who are committed to the way of Christ, whose love is for all, whatever their ethnic background may be.
What worries me about the likes of Griffin is that he's a political opportunist at a time when disenchantment with politicians in general means that many are looking for alternatives to the mainstream. At the moment the BNP seems keen to portray itself as the custodian of the Bulldog Spirit, the plucky little underdog that's going into battle against the big bad political giants - and yet when you consider their political background and history, you realise that all that's really changed from the bad old days of the National Front etc is that they've done what many other political parties have done and rebranded. Griffin and his party are more dangerous because they're shrewder than some have given them credit for: they're managing to pick up disenchanted voters by making themselves seem that little bit more respectable. Griffin didn't need to win any sort of debate on QT, he just needed to look and sound relatively personable and effectively not be a Neanderthal in a Combat 18 T-Shirt - for those who might be likely to say "I'm not a racist but...." that could well be enough.
Whatever he may say, when Griffin talks of "Christian Britain" let no-one be in any doubt: he does not speak for me, or the vast majority of those who actually go to church (and I wish I could say for all) - I do not regard the policies of his party, or his attitude to others such as Muslims, as remotely representing the love of Christ or the position of Christianity as a whole.
Whatever the rights and wrongs of the whole Question Time episode (and opinion seems to be changing daily on what the fallout might be) this claim of Griffin's is arrant nonsense and seems if anything to display a disconnection from reality. For example this article from 2006 includes research that shows that churchgoing is at a higher level among ethnic minorities than among what Griffin laughably describes as the "Indigenous population" - so Christian Britain (a term that Ekklesia points out means little in any case) is increasingly Afro-Carribean and African, particularly in the big cities - in London it's getting on for half of those who go to church, and in Manchester I can see the trend going the same way. And I rejoice that we have people who are committed to the way of Christ, whose love is for all, whatever their ethnic background may be.
What worries me about the likes of Griffin is that he's a political opportunist at a time when disenchantment with politicians in general means that many are looking for alternatives to the mainstream. At the moment the BNP seems keen to portray itself as the custodian of the Bulldog Spirit, the plucky little underdog that's going into battle against the big bad political giants - and yet when you consider their political background and history, you realise that all that's really changed from the bad old days of the National Front etc is that they've done what many other political parties have done and rebranded. Griffin and his party are more dangerous because they're shrewder than some have given them credit for: they're managing to pick up disenchanted voters by making themselves seem that little bit more respectable. Griffin didn't need to win any sort of debate on QT, he just needed to look and sound relatively personable and effectively not be a Neanderthal in a Combat 18 T-Shirt - for those who might be likely to say "I'm not a racist but...." that could well be enough.
Whatever he may say, when Griffin talks of "Christian Britain" let no-one be in any doubt: he does not speak for me, or the vast majority of those who actually go to church (and I wish I could say for all) - I do not regard the policies of his party, or his attitude to others such as Muslims, as remotely representing the love of Christ or the position of Christianity as a whole.
Monday, 14 September 2009
When is Freecycle not Freecycle?
Over the last two or three years we have been members of Freecycle - a wonderful concept in many ways - but right now I am questioning whether to stay part of the groups that I am currently a member of. Let me explain about the concept, and then why I am becoming more disenchanted by it.
Freecycle involves a brilliantly simple concept: if you have something you don't want anymore, but may still be useful, you can offer it free of charge to someone from your local area - thus keeping something still usable out of landfill. No money changes hands, and it's expected that the person who wants the item comes to collect it. You can post "Wanted" ads on there as well, usually after you have already offered at least one item. Mostly what's on offer are things that are simply not worth selling - but that are still useful. For example we've received items including a bundle of clothes for our (then baby) daughter, a wheelbarrow, replacement drawers for our freezer, a food steamer, and a bike suitable for our son. In return we've given away any number of ornaments, a Haynes Manual for a car that had been scrapped, two sofas that were of no further use, videos, and all the other things that had collected in our house that we had no wish to move to the manse.
So where's the problem?
Well to start with what you might call the Freecycle Movement seems to be having more than a bit of internal strife. This article from the Guardian tells part of the story, and it's not hard to find other stuff as well. I'm not about to get into the debate about who is right or wrong, other than to observe that the reaction of The Freecycle Network (TM apparently) to the defection of the Manchester Group (to something that is being called Freegle) has been to set up a "new" Manchester Freecycle Group that at the time of writing has 61 members and no messages, compared to the Manchester "Greencycle" Group's 9500 members and 150 messages since Friday alone. Freecycle however remains the "brand" that people are most likely to have heard of, has a name that very neatly encapsulates what it is about, and the splits are unlikely to help the cause that both sides say they support.
What is more annoying to me now though is that whether it's Freecycle, Greencycle, Freegle or whatever, it is in danger of becoming a victim of its own success. A quick looks at some of the numbers tells a story... 156 messages since Friday Morning: 4 Announcements (mostly about the changeover to Greencycle); 60 Offer messages; 2 Received messages; 23 Taken messages; and 64 Wanted messages. More wanted than offered isn't the way I think a group like this needs to run to be healthy; a quick peruse of the wanteds reveals that many people are looking for what might be called "High Value" items such as Laptops and other computer equipment.
Some of the experiences we've had of offering things have been less than good as well. There are some people who seem to reply to pretty much every message saying it's just what they want etc - we noticed this especially when we cleared a load of stuff out of our loft in Liverpool. Do they really just happen to want every single diverse item for themselves - or are they looking for stuff for a Car Boot sale etc? The one guy who was up front about wanting stuff for that purpose (specifically to raise money for a minibus for a local group) was fine - we ended up giving him quite a few bits - but you can't help being suspicious in some cases. It smacks of the many leaflets that appear through the door for "Clothing Collections" that in some cases seem to imply they're going to a good cause when in fact it's a company looking to sell stuff on - you feel like you're being deceived.
Then there's the people that say they want something, but don't turn up - leaving you wondering why you have for example kept an evening free when you could have been off doing something much more interesting than waiting for a doorbell to ring. That's happened several times, and you end up feeling so frustrated that you wonder whether this is really worth the candle.
What's the solution to these sort of problems? That's a tricky one, and depends in some ways where your idealism lies. Some people have no particular issue with stuff being sold on - after all, it's still staying out of landfill. Others (like me) don't mind so much if it's being done openly so that you know where it's going. Others would say you shouldn't be allowed to sell on anything under any circumstances. Some groups limit you to one or two "Wanteds" in a month - but can they police people putting themselves in the group multiple times effectively? Given that all the moderators are volunteers doing this in their spare time, that's a pretty big ask.
Another argument is that many of the items offered on Freecycle are the sort that would traditionally have been donated to Charity Shops - who are therefore potentially missing out. That's not the complete story - what charity would for example want the remains of a load of Topsoil, Daffodil Bulbs, Bricks, Windfalls from an Apple Tree, three internal doors, or a somewhat warped Piano, all of which I have seen offered - but it has to be admitted that there is plenty of stuff offered that charities would be happy to take and sell on.
The long and the short of it is that I'm probably just going to set the messages from whatever the group is called to be automatically deleted until such time as I have something to offer - and for many things, first try and find other places where they will be appreciated, such as the Charity Shops run by a couple of my churches and by Churches on the Edge. It feels like a shame, but for the moment Freecycle and the groups operating in a similar line just don't feel the way they should.
Freecycle involves a brilliantly simple concept: if you have something you don't want anymore, but may still be useful, you can offer it free of charge to someone from your local area - thus keeping something still usable out of landfill. No money changes hands, and it's expected that the person who wants the item comes to collect it. You can post "Wanted" ads on there as well, usually after you have already offered at least one item. Mostly what's on offer are things that are simply not worth selling - but that are still useful. For example we've received items including a bundle of clothes for our (then baby) daughter, a wheelbarrow, replacement drawers for our freezer, a food steamer, and a bike suitable for our son. In return we've given away any number of ornaments, a Haynes Manual for a car that had been scrapped, two sofas that were of no further use, videos, and all the other things that had collected in our house that we had no wish to move to the manse.
So where's the problem?
Well to start with what you might call the Freecycle Movement seems to be having more than a bit of internal strife. This article from the Guardian tells part of the story, and it's not hard to find other stuff as well. I'm not about to get into the debate about who is right or wrong, other than to observe that the reaction of The Freecycle Network (TM apparently) to the defection of the Manchester Group (to something that is being called Freegle) has been to set up a "new" Manchester Freecycle Group that at the time of writing has 61 members and no messages, compared to the Manchester "Greencycle" Group's 9500 members and 150 messages since Friday alone. Freecycle however remains the "brand" that people are most likely to have heard of, has a name that very neatly encapsulates what it is about, and the splits are unlikely to help the cause that both sides say they support.
What is more annoying to me now though is that whether it's Freecycle, Greencycle, Freegle or whatever, it is in danger of becoming a victim of its own success. A quick looks at some of the numbers tells a story... 156 messages since Friday Morning: 4 Announcements (mostly about the changeover to Greencycle); 60 Offer messages; 2 Received messages; 23 Taken messages; and 64 Wanted messages. More wanted than offered isn't the way I think a group like this needs to run to be healthy; a quick peruse of the wanteds reveals that many people are looking for what might be called "High Value" items such as Laptops and other computer equipment.
Some of the experiences we've had of offering things have been less than good as well. There are some people who seem to reply to pretty much every message saying it's just what they want etc - we noticed this especially when we cleared a load of stuff out of our loft in Liverpool. Do they really just happen to want every single diverse item for themselves - or are they looking for stuff for a Car Boot sale etc? The one guy who was up front about wanting stuff for that purpose (specifically to raise money for a minibus for a local group) was fine - we ended up giving him quite a few bits - but you can't help being suspicious in some cases. It smacks of the many leaflets that appear through the door for "Clothing Collections" that in some cases seem to imply they're going to a good cause when in fact it's a company looking to sell stuff on - you feel like you're being deceived.
Then there's the people that say they want something, but don't turn up - leaving you wondering why you have for example kept an evening free when you could have been off doing something much more interesting than waiting for a doorbell to ring. That's happened several times, and you end up feeling so frustrated that you wonder whether this is really worth the candle.
What's the solution to these sort of problems? That's a tricky one, and depends in some ways where your idealism lies. Some people have no particular issue with stuff being sold on - after all, it's still staying out of landfill. Others (like me) don't mind so much if it's being done openly so that you know where it's going. Others would say you shouldn't be allowed to sell on anything under any circumstances. Some groups limit you to one or two "Wanteds" in a month - but can they police people putting themselves in the group multiple times effectively? Given that all the moderators are volunteers doing this in their spare time, that's a pretty big ask.
Another argument is that many of the items offered on Freecycle are the sort that would traditionally have been donated to Charity Shops - who are therefore potentially missing out. That's not the complete story - what charity would for example want the remains of a load of Topsoil, Daffodil Bulbs, Bricks, Windfalls from an Apple Tree, three internal doors, or a somewhat warped Piano, all of which I have seen offered - but it has to be admitted that there is plenty of stuff offered that charities would be happy to take and sell on.
The long and the short of it is that I'm probably just going to set the messages from whatever the group is called to be automatically deleted until such time as I have something to offer - and for many things, first try and find other places where they will be appreciated, such as the Charity Shops run by a couple of my churches and by Churches on the Edge. It feels like a shame, but for the moment Freecycle and the groups operating in a similar line just don't feel the way they should.
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