Skip to main content

Time to Talk of God

Do we spend too much time analysing the mission of the Church and trying to work out how to do it better? Perhaps that's inevitable in a culture where organised religion – and especially organised Christianity – is in decline. Most of us have seen mission initiatives come and go, often without any sustained impact. We are bound to start asking ourselves, 'Where are we going wrong and how can we do it right?'
The Methodist Conference report, 'Time to Talk of God' spends a whole chapter looking at how we can get back into conversation with the dominant culture of our time. It concludes that Christians need to be talking to their neighbours and colleagues about the things which really matter to them.
What then are these pressing issues that we should be prepared to talk about? They are things like: how to help people feel they belong to something or someone in an increasingly fragmented society; work / life balance; spirituality as opposed to religion; the difference between right and wrong in an age of uncertainty. All of these issues – and many more – can give us a way into conversation with people about the things of God.
So is this where we have been going wrong? Can the Church's persistent decline in the West be blamed squarely on our failure to talk to people outside the Church about the right issues, the issues that really interest them? The writers would say that, up to a point, the answer is 'Yes!' Often, Christians talk only to one another, and only about things which don't seem to matter to anyone else.
But, in fairness, the report isn't all about analysis. Like the parables in this week's lectionary[1], it also leaves room for the Spirit. Our task is to get into meaningful conversation, to go deep and get real, to make ourselves vulnerable by sharing what we honestly think and feel about some of the big issues facing us and our world. We are like the sower who goes out to sow the seed not knowing how – or even whether – it will germinate and grow, but ready to nurture it if it takes root, and to gather in the harvest.
And who can foretell how big the harvest might be if we really got into conversation with our friends and neighbours about the important things in life, and left trivialities behind? Some tiny seeds, planted in the right soil, can grow as big as a tree.
[1] Mark 4.26—34

Comments

Victoria said…
I think I agree - I see more of God's fruits when I'm talking about things that are close to my heart, and close to the heart of people around me.

I spoke to a 20 year old woman today who'd left the church after her brother died and is now into Buddhism. I didn't say much except that the reason I was a Christian was because it was real and true, and that I'd met Christ personally and could never deny it. Then her flood gates opened... she was very vulnerable.

I pray seeds were planted.
METHODISTBISHOP said…
I am sure that, by being honest, you will have allowed some seeds to be planted - but they may take a long time to grow and mature and it may happen in ways we wouldn't expect.

Popular posts from this blog

I don't believe in an interventionist God

Matthew 28.1-10, 1 Corinthians 15.1-11 I like Nick Cave’s song because of its audacious first line: ‘I don’t believe in an interventionist God’. What an unlikely way to begin a love song! He once explained that he wrote the song while sitting at the back of an Anglican church where he had gone with his wife Susie, who presumably does believe in an interventionist God - at least that’s what the song says. Actually Cave has always been very interested in religion. Sometimes he calls himself a Christian, sometimes he doesn’t, depending on how the mood takes him. He once said, ‘I believe in God in spite of religion, not because of it.’ But his lyrics often include religious themes and he has also said that any true love song is a song for God. So maybe it’s no coincidence that he began this song in such an unlikely way, although he says the inspiration came to him during the sermon. The vicar was droning on about something when the first line of the song just popped into his ...

Giotto’s Nativity and Adoration of the Shepherds

John 1.10-18 In the week before Christmas the BBC broadcast a modern version of The Nativity which attempted to retell the story with as much psychological realism as possible. So, for instance, viewers saw how Mary, and Joseph especially, struggled with their feelings. But telling the story of Jesus with psychological realism is not a new idea. It has a long tradition going back seven hundred years to the time of the Italian artist Giotto di Bondone. This nativity scene was painted in a church in Padua in about 1305. Much imitated it is one of the first attempts at psychological realism in Christian art. And what a wonderful first attempt it is - a work of genius, in fact! Whereas previously Mary and the Baby Jesus had been depicted facing outwards, or looking at their visitors, with beatific expressions fixed on their faces, Giotto dares to show them staring intently into one another’s eyes, bonding like any mother and newborn baby. Joseph, in contrast, is not looking on with quiet a...

Luther and Loyola

James 1:17-27 Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23 Within Christianity there has always been a tension between two poles. At one end of the spectrum stands Martin Luther, who said that Christian faith is about trusting in God to put us right - or make us righteous - through the saving death of Jesus. Luther came to this conclusion when he was a professor of New Testament studies in a little town in Germany called Wittenberg. One year he decided to teach his students about Paul’s letter to the Romans and that’s when it suddenly dawned upon him that Christian faith is all about trust. At the other end of the spectrum , stands someone like Ignatius Loyola the founder of the Society of Jesus. He spent a lot of his later life in crisis, first struggling to overcome severe wounds that he had suffered when he was a soldier and then during two short periods locked up in a cell by the Spanish Inquisition. He came to believe that the Christian life is a similar sort of struggle, a lifelon...