Vision, leadership, service

“There is such an emphasis on ‘vision’ that if you have issues with that then you are encouraged to leave."

As another evangelical leader is removed from positions of authority amid allegations of bullying and manipulation, these words from a former member of his church (reported in Christianity Today) seem to be really important. I don't know the ins and outs of this particular situation, but that one sentence seems to me to get to the heart of many of our leadership issues in evangelicalism.

What is leadership? Isn't it primarily setting out a vision, rallying people to that vision? But then might there not need to be some policing of the vision? How might we treat people who aren't 100% on board with the vision?

'Vision' in this sort of discourse so easily becomes short-hand for 'the leader's personal sense of calling'. And although we typically separate between 'beliefs' and 'vision' - although we would maintain that our unity is built on the truth of the gospel and not any particular vision statement - it seems from experience that there is no stopping 'vision' from gradually occupying the central place. After all, programme is driven by vision. What we do together is only indirectly motivated by the Word of God as testified in Holy Scripture; the vision mediates everything. And then the conflation between gospel and vision becomes inevitable, and if you don't quite agree with the leader's sense of vision you are anti-gospel.

"I am among you", said the Lord, "as one who serves." Maybe it would be helpful for us to reflect on those words, spoken at the Last Supper, on the night he was betrayed. He was there amongst his disciples as one who serves. He is here amongst his people as one who serves. Can ministers of the Word be 'leaders', when the Word of God is amongst us as one who serves?

What is my job, if not to lead?

Isn't it just this: to serve the Word? In the sense of being a servant of the Word, and in the sense of being a server of the Word - that is what I am meant to be. As a servant of the Word, I must spend most of my time in the Scriptures, reading, reflecting, meditating - making sure I am hearing the Word. As a server of the Word, I must simply dish out that Word - in one to one conversations, from the pulpit, at the Table. If there are disagreements, discord, how do I react? By ministering the Word.

No vision statement necessary. No new and exciting ways of being (or worse, 'doing') church. Boring old ministry of the Word. Preach a little here, pray a little there. Dish out a little bread and wine. Look for the growth that comes slowly from God, look for the barely perceptible change that comes through grace.

I wonder whether the language of leadership just needs to disappear altogether amongst us.

So, that was 2018 then

Just a brief retrospective from me this morning.

Personally, 2018 has held a number of challenges.  Many of these have been related to my position at Cowley Church Community (although on balance this continues to be a joy!), on which see below.  The year ended with a bit of a shock, as I had a curious episode which has been diagnosed as a probable transient ischemic attack (TIA) - essentially, a mini-stroke.  The episode was very brief, and no harm done, but it's certainly a shot across the bows from my own mortality.  So, roll on the statins, roll on the low-dose aspirin, roll on the 'lifestyle changes'.  I can report, having been forced to take a closer interest in such things, that all the food you like eating is poisonous, and that it is a sad business to have to moderate one's cheese intake over Christmastide.  Most fundamentally, I'm happily surprised to find that I really do look for the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come; one never knows, it seems to me, how much one really believes something until pressed a little to put some practical weight on the belief.  I am reassured.  However, I hope and intend to be with you all for a long while yet.

In terms of ministry, 2018 has been a mixed bag.  I continue to feel the fragility of our little church in Cowley - we are too small to be sustainable, and that comes with a degree of financial uncertainty - but on the other hand I see spiritual growth in so many of those who gather with us regularly.  The year has hit many of our church members with really hard things, and in the midst of them it's been a privilege to minister the gospel and see the Lord supplying faith, and with faith comfort and the ability to endure.  But whilst genuinely rejoicing at God's work amongst his people, can I be honest and express frustration with the slowness and difficulty of our evangelistic efforts?  Where now is the LORD, the God of Elijah?

In wider culture, I think one of the most important currents of 2018 surrounds the transgender debate.  It is striking that the elimination of the Christian doctrine of creation, having wreaked havoc in the sphere of human sexuality, now seems to be eroding something more basic: the idea of gender as a given, and thus human 'nature' at its most foundational level.  David Robertson at the FIEC Leaders' Conference opined that Satan may have over-reached here; certainly the reaction is interesting, and places biblically-oriented Christians in odd alliances with radical feminists and others.  One thing to note about the wider cultural debate is the effort to create an ideological space for those (particularly feminists) who disagree with the transgender agenda (so to speak) but do not see themselves as 'transphobic'; one wonders whether a similar space might not have been created in the sexuality debate, except that it was not politically expedient at the time for anyone to allow it.  We will see whether there is greater success here.  For the church, it is important to distinguish the wider debate - into which we must be free to speak boldly - from the pastoral response to gender difficulties which will inevitably crop up in a fallen world.  The church needs to learn to speak at two levels, but with one essential message.

Politically, 2018 has been a depressing time to be a British subject.  It is hard not to feel that the Lord gives us the leaders we deserve.  The interminable negotiations around Brexit seem to have reached a conclusion which is designed to aggravate all parties, and meanwhile much bigger issues (like domestic poverty, or the need to respond to a changing balance of global power) are ignored.  Personally, I've gone and joined a political party, for the first time since my teens.  (I think I recall then briefly being a member of the Conservative party, although I may be mis-remembering).  The SDP is looking to push its way back onto the political scene, and I felt inspired to join up.  The reasoning?  Well, it seems to me that when everything in politics is going to pot the responsible thing for concerned folk to do is not to disengage but to lean in, to put a shoulder to the wheel.  I don't think it's appropriate for a Christian minster to make too much of party politics, but I'll just take this opportunity to suggest you read through the SDP's New Declaration and see what you make of it; for me, the explicit rejection of intersectionality/victim discourse, coupled to the effort to find a sensible and pragmatic economic model, is compelling despite my doubts about some other elements (I remain, for example, unconvinced about PR).  But if not this party, could there be a party that you might join, and seek therein to have an active influence?

One thought I have going into 2019 is the importance of relating the passage of time to eschatology.  That is to say, to explicitly recognise that the sands of time are sinking; whether we're talking about personal endings or the grand ending of all history, each passing year (and month, week, day, hour...) is another step towards the breaking in of that dawn of heaven.  It is not in the past, nor the present, nor even the conceivable human future that we find our hope, or solutions to the great problems and issues of our times; but our hope is in the "fair sweet morn" of Christ's appearing.

Dark, dark hath been the midnight, but dayspring is at hand;
And glory, glory dwelleth in Emmanuel's land.

On handling sacred things

One thing that worries me about being in full-time Christian ministry is the danger of becoming over-familiar with sacred things.  I 'use' the Bible every day.  I pray with and for people as part of my 'job'.  I spend a lot of time reading and thinking about God.  It can all become a bit - comfortable?

Sometimes the tone of conversation is just a bit too jokey, a bit light, betraying a casual disregard which is creeping into my heart.  Sometimes I know the effect I want to have on the congregation, and I am getting better at tweaking what I do to get the result I want - and where, then, is God?  Sometimes - and honestly, I notice this most hanging out with other Christian leaders - we show by the way we talk that at some level we have stopped feeling the awesome weight of glory that there is in the gospel - and it's made worse by the fact that I know that I will still speak, on Sunday from the front of church, as if that weight of glory were real to me.

I don't mean that it's always like that.  I don't mean to imply that we're all hypocrites.  I just want to warn myself: to remind myself, perhaps, of Nadab and Abihu, or of Uzzah.  Holy, holy, holy is the Lord.  Don't forget it.  These are sacred things.  Handle with care.

Advent III: Prepare the way

The voice of one crying in the wilderness: 'Prepare the way of the Lord!'

That there will be a figure coming ahead of the Lord, one to prepare his way, is a theme of Isaiah's prophecy, and also Malachi 3 and 4.  The New Testament sees John the Baptist as fulfilling this role.  He is to prepare the way, to make things ready for the Lord when he comes, to prepare a people who are ready to receive him.

But who was prepared?  Just a few, I suppose - there were those who followed John initially and then became disciples of Jesus.  According to the fourth gospel, some at least of the apostolic band may have been amongst them.  And maybe there was some sort of general preparation going on, some sort of shaking loose of some of the common assumptions of first century Judaism, perhaps a little expectation-raising.  But in the end, even the prepared don't seem very prepared.  The disciples fail to grasp the mission of Jesus until after the resurrection - arguably until after Pentecost.

Who was prepared, really?

John the Preparer stands in a curiously ambivalent light.  There is the John who cries 'behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!', the first to acknowledge the identity and mission of the Messiah.  This is the same John who is happy for his own reputation to be diminished, so long as the fame of Jesus is increased.  He is the herald, the friend of the bridegroom, and as such the greatest born of woman.

And yet, even in that phrase, something else is said: the least in the kingdom is greater than John.  The imprisoned herald openly questions whether this truly is Messiah.  There is something odd about the fact that John continues to have a band of disciples even after Messiah has come.  Ought not the forerunner to have completely given way?  Biblically this tension isn't resolved until the apostle Paul baptizes some disciples of John in Ephesus, years later.

It strikes me that even the ministry of John, the Preparer, the one who makes ready - even his work by itself is a dead end, a kind of cul-de-sac, a preparation which leaves nobody prepared.  It is only as Jesus himself pushes forward into the situation that the preparation of John has genuine light shone upon it.  The preparation proves to be ineffective except where it is taken up by a new and special work of grace; a work of grace which shows itself to have no need of preparation at all.

I'm struck this morning that this is Christian ministry: preparing, making ready, clearing the way - and knowing all along that nobody will be prepared, and nothing will be made ready, and the way will remain blocked, unless Christ himself comes and makes our work effective.

It's not you, it's me

One of the things I've been discovering about myself, and that having this blog has really helped me to clarify, is that my creativity comes in spurts.  I am fitfully and sporadically creative.  Hence there being weeks when I write every day, and months when I write almost nothing at all.  I could go into lots of analysis of how creativity fits with my mood cycle (I write at the highest and lowest points - odd, huh?) or the effect that work and other commitments have on my ability to write.  But I'll spare you.  My main question is:

I wonder what that means for future ministry?