It ain't where you live...

One of the reasons that I think I struggle with my current church experience is that I can't help comparing it to the experience of living in pretty close Christian community. This isn't something that I've done recently, but every couple of years from 1989 to 1999 I swapped 'normal' life in the UK for an overseas placement with a number of different Christian organisations. Ostensibly, I suppose, I was a missionary... but, to be honest, I don't really remember much 'missioning' going on. Most of what kept me busy was spending time with other Christians... and looking after some pretty broken buildings. 

Several weeks...

As the blog by my friend Pop reaches its one-year anniversary (congratulations Pop, by the way... no-one doubted you'd make it... and you have, provoking much thinking on the way... thank you!) ... in a torturous 'tedious link' I think I have to comment that a year is 52 weeks...

Pipe smoking, ex PM Harold Wilson famously suggested once that "A week is a long time in politics".

The Barenaked ladies too, took time to point out that a week can be a long time...

The former was a political heavyweight... the latter ended up singing about Sushi and Chinese Chickens... but they've both got a point.

A glass full of ice-cubes

Pop's comment to my previous post prompted some thought. Clearly there's something wrong with my relationship with the Church 'event' that happens on a Sunday... But is it Church, or is it my heart-attitude?

let's get back to the source... what did Jesus do?

He attended Sabbath Synagogue. New converts to Christianity also continued to meet at the Jerusalem temple, and local synagogues albeit in the gentiles court, and Paul usually started at the local synagogue as he travelled around.

Clearly then, there's clearly nothing wrong with a weekly meeting...

What about the content...?

Well, Synagogue was a relatively short meeting that began with a standard call to worship, readings according to a set programme, and a short (or very short - see what Jesus said after reading the scrolls in Luke 4) sermon often given by the same person who did the readings. The service ended with a blessing.

Sounds like our services are kind of based on what happened at Synagogues, so - again - nothing much wrong with the ingredients that go into it...

So, should I just put up and shut up? What should I think about my instinct that there's something about it that's just not working... at least for me?

Funny way to feast...

I confess to being a little cheesed off... 

Sunday past, church was - frankly - poor.

Imagine you turned up at the family home for Christmas hoping for hugs all round and a chance to celebrate being together to catch up on a year's worth of life around the table... to find that, rather than a feast of family and food... you were solemnly seated, but were then obliged to sit in silence (unless instructed to greet each other) at a table dripping with the most tastiest edibles, whilst notices were given, hymns were sung, prayers were said, sermons were delivered, more songs were sung, solemn moments were had... Then, just as you were allowed to finally tuck in and talk, the table was cleared and you were sent off to bed.

The Whole Gospel...

I've realised that my thinking about the Kingdom has taken a dangerous turn recently...

Having grown up in a church-system that (if I'm honest) was about as toothless as the Stones' bearded hag... I find the image of a revolutionary social justice type Kingdom movement very exciting... I'm not quite up there toting a machine gun in his name in the way that some liberation theologians would suggest, but my feeling about how broken the world is and how much it needs fixing by a just God gets me pretty close...

I'd hate to be...

An Australian cricket fan... at least, in the last 12 hours... 90,000 watched as they were all out for less than 100 in 48 overs at the MCG... and then were horrified as the tourists posted 150+ without loss... listening to the highlights, it sounds like England could have bowled underarm with a tennis ball and got away with it... they could do no wrong.

Their experience reminded me of those times when things I've been involved in have been outrageously blessed by God's presence... those moments when you could use a piece of imaginary chewing gum to connect your guitar to the amp and it would still work... on days like that, it's almost like God takes particular pleasure in demonstrating just how easily he can turn the world upside down for those he loves... failure isn't even a possiblity.

I almost felt sorry for the Australian cricket fans this morning... and in that spirit of largesse... Happy Christmas...

Who's the daddy?

The last few days in the Mome household have been something of a challenge...

Following a weekend away that was billed as 'Homegroup Christmas'... and ended up being 'Homegroup Sickfest' when 8 out of the 12 people present (including The Wife) succumbed to a vomiting bug, we limped home on Monday, only to find that Moo had brought the bug with her... There's nothing quite as guilt-inducing as ignoring her noctural chirping only to find that what she's actually been doing is yodeling her evening meal, and you have to wash pasta out of her hair before you can go to bed...