“Children are part of our geography of hope.” An almost throw away comment by Wade Davis in his 2003 TED talk endangered cultures around the loss of language and ethnocide. I completely agree, children are part of it, but it got me to thinking about what ‘it’ is and what else is part of it? I love the idea of a geography of hope.  It demands you to ask questions like, What is the terrain like?  Is the going tough or light? Is the land fertile? and Tell me about the landmarks?  Here are some of my first thoughts

The dreams and visions and ideas and desires of our children should be like the planning office for this geography.  Questions about how and what and where and when should we, those with the power, do, should be examined by the imaginative, joyful unhindered minds and hearts of those who will inherit the benefits and costs of such doing.  Such a planning office should be culturally cross-referential: the doing in the west should be examined by the minds and hearts of the east and likewise those in the east, and north and south by those in the west and south and north.  The force of this is not driven by ideas about our children being the ‘world of tomorrow’, which clearly they are, but because when Jesus said ‘unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven’ [Matt 18:3].  For a long time my children equated height with age; if you were taller, you were older.  An easy mistake for someone who has almost their entire biological chronology set on growing.  As an idea though, it is at the end of the day, daft!  For a long time now we have equated age, learning and experience with wisdom and insight.  How daft is that!!

In this geography of hope the going will be tough.  Not generally, but by choice.  Wisdom, faithfulness, honesty and joy come because you work at it, it’s tough by choice because hope is cultivated through hard work.  I don’t mean being hopeful is hard work, but the way to become hopeful, being full of hope, is by working hard at growing wisdom, faithfulness, honesty and joy; the flora and fauna of this geography of hope.  And to grow such things as these at the centre of your being and the being of a community demands hard work.

The going will also be slow in this geography of hope.  At least it will seem so for those whose current geography is an upward desire to upgrade.  Once the wheel began to roll, the desire for speed grew in strength and results.  The arena in which this desire for speed is unleashed changes from time to time and culture to culture.  In my world, which is indicative of many in what we call the technologically advanced, this arena is captured by the word and concept of upgrading.  A counter-movement to this is to mend-and-make-do, which is always much slower than replace-and-upgrade.  At the moment for me this is about my lawn-mower, which has a cracked petrol tank; the battle is between my patient efforts to repair and the height of my grass.  The deeper battle is about our efforts to mine, trawl, squeeze and suck all we can from each passing moment instead of wishfully hastening onto the next with the empty hope that by doing the same in that one and the one after that and the one after that we will somehow achieve more than we did in the last one.  Hope is fuelled by what we carry from the past, which we can only really appreciate if we experience what it was.  We will therefore travel much slower in a geography of hope.

In this geography of hope, the significant and noticeable landmarks will be small gatherings of people who are committed to each other, to place and to Jesus; and these expressions of church will be found in the most unexpected of places.  When we find ourselves encountering depth, if we take time to notice, we will find people whose sense of self is concentrated and distilled from their relationship with the divine, with other people and the space and place where they are.  This is in sharp contrast to the movement of the age which has dislocated people from the land of their ancestors, from the place of their birth, from the people of their family, from their neighbour and from their selves; and in that process has found that they have been dislocated from the divine.  The challenge to find oneself is not answered by running and escape, but through stillness and staying.  The geography of hope is not based on finding fertile ground somewhere else, but staying and working the ground until it becomes fertile, until you begin to feel yourself putting down your roots, establishing yourself where you find yourself and becoming stable and embedded enough to survive the sharp frosts and the long hard days of winter.  And winter turns to spring and your bare branches begin to bud and hope begins to blossom.  A hope that is shaped not by the things that change, but by the things that don’t, which is what a landmark is after all.

These thoughts are of course riddled with my own heart and passion.  I wonder what your thoughts are?

This is a late greenbelt post!

On the programme this year at Greenbelt was Matt Redman. This was very surprising and at the same time unsurprising as GB positions itself in the ‘broad’ camp someone like Matt ticks the conservative evangelical and charismatic boxes. As it happens it tick many peoples boxes.

There were about 3500-4500 people at the mainstage for Matt’s worship gig. And as I was processing this phenomenon, [whilst not worshiping!], I wondered whether I was surrounded by fellow graduates? Those older teens and young adults who we with Soul Survivor in the early days of the early 1990′s and who frankly are now too old even for Momentum. But who also have diversified in there spirituality and prefer a place like Greenbelt than New Wine, the perhaps more natural grassing ground for SS graduates?

A huge part of my motivation and inspiration for research comes out of my own story and journey as a follower of Jesus. The first church I went to was a large town centre Baptist Church that was evangelical and charismatic. Since I came from a non-church background, the doctrine and practice that flowed from this church experience became normative. 20 months later I was at London Bible College, large, evangelical, slightly charismatic and quite baptist. Of course these are retrospective labels since I had no idea what an evangelical was before I was well into my time at LBC. Church experience at LBC was mixed but generally along the same theme. After LBC, I was at a mid-sized CofE Church in North London that was ‘generically evangelical’ [my label]. One year later I was an Assistant Pastor at a mid-sized Baptist church again that was conservatively evangelical and embarrassingly charismatic [they were embarrassed to realise they were charismatic]. And then in a very surprising [to me at least] move I became senior staff in a large CofE, conservative evangelical and recovering charismatic church. Finally in a very surprising to everyone else move I became an Ordinand at Ripon College Cuddesdon of liberal catholic fame.

These episodes in my journey lead me to reflect on my own diversification as an evangelical this is what I came up with.

Charismatic Evangelical [1992-1994] Describes where on the spectrum I was converted into.

Doctrinally Disillusioned Evangelical [1994-1996] Is how I felt when I realised you needed to go to bible college to discover who Jesus is and the resultant belief-melt-down that follows.

Post Post Evangelical [1997-1998] Is how I described myself at the public debate with Dave Tomlinson after seeing how scattered and in some places ‘obvious’ his arguments were.

‘Edge of the World’ Evangelical [199-2001] As opposed to Open Evangelical. That place where you are at the edge of the ‘flat’ world, since flat is how the doctrine felt, and wanting to take a step to get off or out, and yet finding nothing to step on to or in to.

New Kind of Evangelical [2001-2004] After reading book of similar title and seeing that it might just be degrees of perspective and there might yet be some life left in the old girl yet!

Cosmopolitan Evangelical [2005-] Since God’s call to Anglican Ordination; being neither Anglican or thinking about ordination up until that point. Cosmo because I know where I come from and don’t want to desert or abandon that past, despite trying to previously. But also wanting to be not just comfortable but actually at home in foreign places; to be able to encounter God, minister, lead, teach and live in a culture that is not my home. “To be ready to find God in the unexpected places.” To quote my selection application papers.

These diversifications have of course being supplemented with differing doctrine and practice, or least looking for such. It is with this background that I am engaging on the long process of exploring the stories of enrichment and division that emerge from other people’s diversified journeys.

These episodes of flipside leadership won’t be in any kind of order. Partly because if I waited until I thought there were in an order I was happy with they might never get written.

Given that, let’s start with activism!

It strikes me that one of the primary defining aspects of a gift of leadership is something about direction. Leadership makes sense in the context of a journey, whether that is physical, spiritual, emotional or, what is normally the case, a complex mix of these and others descriptors. Perhaps the best phrase might be ‘human journey’. The thing that the leader brings to this journey, the thing that they are best positioned to bring, is a vision of the future. The leader, if you like points to Point C of the journey. Point A being where you have come from and Point B being where you currently are. Since this is one of the moments when the leader is at their peak, a moment of looking forward, reaching ahead, urging movement and stirring active imagination, then they tend to embody these journey attributes of movement.

This embodiment of these attributes of journey is at an identity level [deliberately not using the words psychological or character]. The gift is planted deeply, probably at the core of personhood. Something that is not of course limited to the gift of leadership, a gift is part of the ‘knitting together of the person’ by God. This knitting together between conception and birth and during new creation i.e. between birth and death, affects the whole being. It is part of ‘the way you are wired up’, to use a phrase from Bill Hybels.
Since these attributes are so close to the core of who the leader is, then they naturally affect the whole being. The outworking of such is often labelled activism.

One of the ways I often describe myself is as a recovering-activist. Someone who is always on the go, mentally and physically. My wife generously describes this as an ‘enormous capacity for work’. But I have come to see this not as a blessing but as a curse, or more politely as the flipside of leadership.

There are many ways that this positive aspect of leadership, the perception and enthusiasm for direction and movement becomes a danger to the health and well-being of the leader and the congregation, church, organisation or company. At this point it is important not to mis-read what I am saying. I am not saying that we have not benefited from the leaders activity and capacity for work. What I am saying is that burnout amongst leaders is a serious matter, as is dis-empowered congregations!

Firstly the leader struggles to rest. I think that I began to learn what rest meant 3 years into full-time ministry when I was ‘sent’ to Malta to rest after losing my voice. Interestingly the voice returned the very first evening in Malta after a 6 week period of not being able to talk at all. In the days that followed I felt that God gave me permission to rest. Not of course that it had held withheld perviously. I would still say that I am learning to rest and release the need to follow-through on every thought.

Secondly, the congregation struggle to keep up. With a leader who is two steps ahead, doing everything and too much, the congregation become dis-empowered because they simply can’t keep up with the speed and plethora of ideas and action points. As a congregation they need someone to point the direction of travel, not someone who has their foot to the floor beckoning people to keep up.

Much of this, and other aspects of the flipside that I plan to write about, are about the leader living for themselves, even if they think they are serving the people. Controlling the flipside, living with the curse, is mostly about learning to live with oneself and serving the needs of the other.

Blessings and curses are opposites in both intent and result. Blessings tend to come with good will and curses tend not to. Blessings bring something good, fruitful, lasting, joyful from a heart of love towards the intended. Curses don’t tend to be any of those things. Which is why the idea of a curse does not quite fit with this little study I am embarking on.The Curse of Leadership has been the title since its conception in my thinking some 2 years ago. A title that reflects my personal experience over the then 7 years in full time church leadership of one sort or another. But as soon as I come to begin writing it ‘curse’ sounds altogether to hard. And yet there is something there that I can’t quite let go of because at the worse of times it just feels like it – a curse.The ‘flipside’ sounds altogether more friendly and palatable, almost funky and trendy as if it might represent some new insight into leadership and management – although I am fairly sure that is unlikely to be the case. So a double title it will be for a while.This writing exercise is meant to be an exploration of personal experience in the hope of dredging the depths of it for all the wisdom it contains. Personal experience of leadership in a few guises but mainly in the context of local church and ministry. Distilling something about the gift of leadership over and against leadership positions and skills – a distinction that will be explored – and what in particular that gift brings to the life of its holder. Perhaps contesting the widely held assumption that many of the perceived strengths of such a gift could in fact be its weaknesses.For me this is also an exercise in regular writing. So we’ll see how that goes! Given the wise contrast between training and trying, lets go for an episode once a week – or there abouts!Some of the title splash came from a piece by Vicky Newman highlighted in the Indepndent this week as taking part in the Stuart project.

This custom has been one that has puzzled me for a while, since arriving at Rippon College, Cuddesdon for my ordination training. Coming from low evangelical background, these body movements were a puzzle and in fact boarder on idolatry. My first thoughts were “Well they seem no more crazy than sticking your hands in the air during singing.” This obviously has more meaning you might say, but even casual observations show that some songs do it better than others and generally you have to wait until the chorus or the second verse before it is appropriate to ‘lift them high’.

My second thought concerns an observation made by at fellow staff member at my last job [Holy Trinity Hazlemere]. He, Alan, observed that we more often than not fall into worship. We move straight from notices to full blown intimacy without as much as a by-your-leave.

In reaction to these I have been developing a practice of pausing an lowering my head when entering a pew and when leaving it. Not because I am not worshipping in my whole life nor because I think there is any more ‘real’ presence at the altar or reserve sacrament than any other particular place. It is more to do with what is going on in my heart: I am here, in this building in this pew, intentionally to listen, pray and acknowledge God’s grace in my life. It is to mark the beginning and end of this intentional time of becoming aware of God’s presence.

Now I come to Conrad’s observations. This tradition, that I have picked up from other people playing the same game as I am, indeed encourages and entices me to both acknowledge the grace shown to me and respond in an appropriate thankful way acknowledging the Godhead behind it. And in a BTW, showing other people that I am aware of what I am doing in the pew.

Long time no blog – but essay is in and interviews for MPhil and RDP successfully negotiated.

For both my interviews (with Andrew Walker for place on MPhil/PhD at King’s, and Judith Maltby for Ministry Division permission and money for said MPhil) I was sure that I would be asked: how would you describe yourself now in terms of church-person-ship? [my changes]. So after a little pondering I came up with these descriptions of my journey.

Charismatic Baptist Evangelical describes where on the spectrum I was converted into. 1992-1994
Doctrinally Disillusioned Evangelical is how I felt when I realised you needed to go to bible college to discover who Jesus is and the resultant belief-melt-down that follows. 1994-1996
Post Post Evangelical is how I described myself at the public debate with Dave Tomlinson after seeing how scattered and in some places obvious his arguments were. 1997-1998
‘Edge of the World’ Evangelical as opposed to Open Evangelical. That place where you are at the edge of the ‘flat’ world, since flat is how the doctrine felt, and wanting to take a step to get off or out, and yet finding nothing to step on to or in to. 1999-2001
New Kind of Evangelical after reading book of similar title and seeing that it might just be degrees of perspective and there might yet be some life left in the old girl yet! 2001-2004
Cosmopolitan Evangelical since God’s call to Anglican Ordination; being neither Anglican or thinking about ordination up until that point. Cosmo because I know where I come from and don’t want to desert or abandon that past, despite trying to previously. But also wanting to be not just comfortable but actually at home in foreign places; to be able to encounter God, minister, lead, teach and live in a culture that is not my home. “To be ready to find God in the unexpected places.” To quote my selection application papers.

So there we are I am a cosmo evangelical ordinand still having culture shock episodes in a college with liberal catholic history and tendencies.

Picture btw is just dreaming!