Future Church Now » Church

Is it really Christ-mas in Britain this year?

Graeme — Sat, 24 Dec 2011 10:44:41 +0000

Last week, David Cameron made an interesting speech on the 400th anniversary of the King James Bible. The item that received most press coverage in the speech was Mr Cameron asserting that “We are a Christian country and we should not be afraid to say so.” He admitted personally to be a committed but only vaguely practising Christian with some deep doubts about some theological issues.

He continued: “I know and fully respect that many people in this country do not have a religion. And I am also incredibly proud that Britain is home to many different faith communities, who do so much to make our country stronger. But what I am saying is that the Bible has helped to give Britain a set of values and morals which make Britain what it is today.”

Some would argue that a time of national crisis and difficulty is precisely when the church can shine in society. The Economist from the previous week had made just such a point in an insightful piece (read it in full here, or an extract below).

Postscript added on 25 December: The Queen’s speech today was filled with Christian messages, and a strong almost evangelistic message. It’s probably the strongest specifically Christian message I have ever heard from a member of the Royal family in the UK. Is this a sign that the leaders of the country have made a decision to use the Christian faith as a means to developing the nation? If so, the church needs to jump at the opportunity. But it must do so realising that people are seeking God, not the church. They want faith, not a religion.

God in austerity Britain

As recession looms, the Church of England is active and vocal, but in the wrong way
The Economist: Dec 10th 2011

CONSIDERING that Britain is a deeply secular country, there is a lot of God about this Christmas. Austerity is a part of the explanation. With the core cultural activity of modern Britain—shopping for stuff—losing its lustre, there are hints of a nation groping for something more profound.

For millions, austerity Christmas will include a dose of carols. The trend has been noticeable for a couple of years. The great cathedrals expect to be packed on Christmas Eve. Charity services, family services, carols by candlelight and sing-along concerts abound. A London church, St Martin-in-the-Fields, is offering “carols for shoppers”, while across town the grand organ of the Royal Albert Hall, a 9,997-pipe monster, will pound through some two dozen carol concerts in December.

Anglican voices are prominent in less cosy contexts, too. On December 6th the Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, made front-page news with a commentary on the riots that gripped English towns last August. Too many young people feel they have nothing to lose, the archbishop argued, decrying consumerism and government cuts to youth services. A fortnight earlier, 18 Anglican bishops wrote a joint letter condemning plans for a per-household benefits cap (intended to ensure that welfare recipients do no better than the average working family). This risked being “profoundly unjust” to poor families with children, said the bishops.

The Anglican church has become rather proprietorial about anti-finance protesters camped in the City of London outside St Paul’s Cathedral, after a muddled initial response that saw two senior clergymen resign. Yes, the protesters’ demands are vague, but that just shows that the Church of England is used as a place to air society’s “unspoken anxieties”, suggested Archbishop Williams last month. The Bishop of London has organised meetings between Occupy London protesters and the chief financial regulator, Hector Sants. On a homelier note, a priest reports that two protesters have started attending cathedral services.

It is possible to see why some Anglican clergymen are bullish about their church’s relevance in austerity Britain, despite decades of falling attendance and gibes about woolly, waffly priests wringing their hands at how complicated life is. The decade after the second world war witnessed a “new seriousness”, and a corresponding high point for the Church of England, says Lord Harries, a former bishop of Oxford and long-standing BBC broadcaster. The beginnings of a similar seriousness can be felt today. The Bishop of Leicester, Tim Stevens, points to the headlines generated when church leaders question government policies. If bishops can make the front page, is the country as secular as all that, he asks?

Actually, yes. The latest British Social Attitudes Survey shows just 20% of the British public calling themselves members of the Church of England, down from 40% in 1983. Roman Catholicism (about one in ten of the population) is more stable. Half of the population say they have “no religion”. More than half “never” attend a religious service. Non-Christian faiths are growing but small (6% of the population).

Come all ye faithful, and not

The evidence that the Church of England is returning to the centre of public life is ambiguous. True, religious music is popular. In some places that shows a yearning for faith. But if cathedrals are increasingly popular, it is in part because they are anonymous, admits a priest: there is no danger of being asked to visit a sick parishioner afterwards. Business is also booming for commercial carol concerts in non-church settings, where a mince pie and nostalgia are as much the lure as harking the singing of herald angels. Across the country, Raymond Gubbay, an impresario behind several shows at the Royal Albert Hall, is putting on 200 such Christmas concerts.

Nor is the St Paul’s Cathedral camp as flattering as it seems. The protesters wanted to surround the London Stock Exchange. Thwarted, they ended up at St Paul’s largely by accident. Headlines about bishops chiding the government are also double-edged. Too often, what is striking is not the daring of Anglican prelates but their lack of self-confidence. Time and again, bishops sound like shop stewards for the welfare state, taking to the airwaves to demand the preservation of specific benefits without mentioning the church, the role of faith or Christianity.

Welfare utopianism is an Anglican tradition. In the 1940s the church embraced the welfare state as a modern, professional alternative to charity, willingly dismantling voluntary relief networks and signing over thousands of church schools, hospitals and other bodies to the state, notes Linda Woodhead of Lancaster University. In a 1985 report the church attacked Margaret Thatcher for putting economic efficiency ahead of welfare. She retorted that church-going is not about wanting “social reforms and benefits” but about spiritual redemption and, indeed, God.

The church has a perfect right to comment on politics, says Lord Harries. If you love your neighbour, you must have a view on policies that affect his welfare. At the same time, he argues, the English have always been reticent about religious language. The clergy must use religious imagery “very shyly”, otherwise the English immediately back away.

Fair enough. England is an odd place: a secular country where an established church still has a role in public life (and, on the ground, does much unsung good). But the economy may be about to fall off a cliff. That poses a huge test for the Church of England and its claims to be a source of national strength. If the church cannot offer a message more spiky and distinctive than social democracy in a clerical collar, it will fail that test.

Source: The Economist

The Economist has it quite right: The church’s message should be very similar to Jesus’s message. A new Kingdom is available, and could break in all around us. It can be on earth as it is in heaven, and God’s will can be done here and now.

In a similar article from a different perspective, Eric Weiner reflected on America, stating: “Apparently, a growing number of Americans are running from organized religion, but by no means running from God.” Americans are abandoning religion, but not faith. They have had enough of church, but not of God. These are signs indeed that the church is failing the test. It has lost its ability to be meaningful in society.

But it does not need to be so.

A part of the solution is for Christian leaders to start bringing joy to the world. That’s a big Christmas theme, lost for most of the year in Christian rhetoric. As Weiner says: “Put bluntly: God is not a lot of fun these days. Many of us don’t view religion so generously. All we see is an angry God. He is constantly judging and smiting, and so are his followers. No wonder so many Americans are enamored of the Dalai Lama. He laughs, often and well. Precious few of our religious leaders laugh. They shout. God is not an exclamation point, though. He is, at his best, a semicolon, connecting people, and generating what Aldous Huxley called ‘human grace.’ Somewhere along the way, we’ve lost sight of this.”

We need the church to become more missional and less defensive. I hope that 2012 will see steps in that direction.

Study: Why Young Christians Leave the Church

Graeme — Sun, 16 Oct 2011 19:32:48 +0000

One of the biggest ‘elephants in the room’ for evangelical Christians is why so many of their young people leave the church in their late twenties. There’s no denying this happens. There are too many “used to evangelical Christians” running around. Something must be wrong.

Some people blame the way youth ministry is run. For example, see this hour long documentary produced by a young churchgoer, “Divided“. They have a point, but I don’t buy into their analysis completely.

A new book by David Kinnaman, Barna Group president, provides some more detail. “You Lost Me: Why Young Christians are Leaving Church and Rethinking Church” is an excellent read. The Christian Post reviewed it and provides a summary of the findings (read it here, or a summary below).

This is a problem I have been passionate about for nearly three decades. I continue to be dismayed at how few churches are trying new things in an attempt to reverse nearly a half century of losing young people. This book from Barna provides some clues. What is your church going to do about it?

Study: Why Young Christians Leave the Church

By Jeff Schapiro | Christian Post Reporter, Sep 2011

Nearly three out of every five young Christians disconnect from their churches after the age of 15, but why? A new research study released by the Barna Group points to six different reasons as to why young people aren’t staying in their pews.

The results of this study come from the interviews of teenagers, young adults, youth pastors, senior pastors and parents that were taken over the course of five years.

First, the study says, churches appear to be overprotective. Nearly one-fourth of the 18- to 29-year-olds interviewed said “Christians demonize everything outside of the church” most of the time. Twenty-two percent also said the church ignores real-world problems and 18 percent said that their church was too concerned about the negative impact of movies, music and video games.

Many young adults also feel that their experience of Christianity was shallow. One-third of survey participants felt that “church is boring.” Twenty percent of those who attended as a teenager said that God appeared to be missing from their experience of church.

The study also found many young adults do not like the way churches appear to be against science. Over one-third of young adults said that “Christians are too confident they know all the answers” and one-fourth of them said that “Christianity is anti-science.”

Some also feel that churches are too simple or too judgmental when it comes to issues of sexuality. Seventeen percent of young Christians say they’ve “made mistakes and feel judged in church because of them.” Two out of five young adult Catholics said that the church’s teachings on birth control and sex are “out of date.”

The fifth reason the study gives for such an exodus from churches is many young adults struggle with the exclusivity of Christianity. Twenty-nine percent of young Christians said “churches are afraid of the beliefs of other faiths” and feel they have to choose between their friends and their faith.

The last reason the study gives for young people leaving the church is they feel it is “unfriendly to those who doubt.” Over one-third of young adults said they feel like they can’t ask life’s most pressing questions in church and 23 percent said they had “significant intellectual doubts” about their faith.

David Kinnaman, Barna Group president and author of the book on these findings, You Lost Me: Why Young Christians are Leaving Church and Rethinking Church, said part of the problem may be that many churches are geared toward “traditional” young adults.

“But most young adults no longer follow the typical path of leaving home, getting and education, finding a job, getting married and having kids – all before the age of 30,” he said. “These life events are being delayed, reordered, and sometimes pushed completely off the radar among today’s young adults.”

The Barna Update that highlights this study also says that today’s young adults are heavily influenced by the major social, spiritual and technological changes that have occurred in the last quarter century.

Dan Smith, pastor of Momentum Christian Church in Cleveland, Ohio, told The Christian Post in an email that the six points “resonate” with him.

“I feel like part of God’s calling on my life is to reach those 85 percent (made-up stat) who want to connect with God … but don’t feel like the typical church is helping with that,” he said.

“Most of our church is made up of 20s, 30s, and 40s – younger people – because our leaders have the same mindset as some of the younger people do – we won’t tolerate inauthenicity ‘on stage,’ trite answers, anti-scientific discussion, etc. As Scripture says, we believe that if Jesus is lifted up, young people should also be drawn to him … so we try to lift him up in a way they can participate.”

Instead of overreacting to these statistics (by gearing churches specifically toward young people) or remaining indifferent to them, Kinnaman suggests that churches should cultivate “intergenerational relationships” within their congregations.

“In many churches, this means changing the metaphor from simply passing the baton to the next generation to a more functional, biblical picture of a body – that is, the entire community of faith, across the entire lifespan, working together to fulfill God’s purposes.”

Source: Christian Post

I don’t want an easy faith

Graeme — Thu, 06 Oct 2011 08:29:37 +0000

One of the most amazing things about God’s Kingdom is that, by being a conscious part of it I find myself in a truly global community through which God is able to speak and work in my life. This morning, I really needed that community. I won’t bore you with why, except to say that those who claim the title “Biblical Christians” might do well to read the verses in their Bible (even their interpretation thereof) that warn that no matter how true your statements, if you have no love you are no better than a clanging cymbal.

Some good friends gave me good advice. That helped. But, then, an email arrived in my inbox. It was the RSS feed from one of my favourite bloggers on Christian issues, Rachel Held Evans. Rachel has been in the media quite a bit over the past few weeks, as she finished living one complete year in an entirely “Biblical” way (not cutting her hair, living in a tent in the garden for one week every month during her period, no jewelry, etc). Well, yes, ironic, of course (that’s partly why I like her so much). Her almost daily insights on her blog are helpful, challenging, inspiring and smart in equal measure.

But today, her blog entry was just perfectly, precisely what I needed. It will be added to my personal liturgy as a prayer to be often repeated. Thank you, Rachel, for being God’s voice for me today.

I don’t want an easy faith

by Rachel Held Evans
A prayer for the journey in the Kingdom of God on earth

Some like to say that the bravest thing Christians can do is defend their faith, to stand their ground and refuse to change.

But it’s easier to defend our faith than to subject it to scrutiny.
It’s easier to dig in our heels than to go exploring.
It’s easier to regurgitate answers than to ask good questions.
It’s easier to cling to our beliefs than to hold them with open hands.
It’s easier to assume we’re always right than to acknowledge we may be wrong.

I don’t want an easy faith, I want a brave faith.

I want a faith that takes risks, that asks questions, that experiments, that evolves, that thrives amidst change and obeys amidst doubt. I want a faith that engages both my heart and my head, a faith that operates out of love, not fear, a faith that leaps when it needs to and crawls when it has to.

I want the kind of faith that moves mountains precisely because it is small: small enough to need, small enough grow, small enough to surrender to a God that is much bigger than it will ever be.

I don’t want an easy faith.

Source: Rachel Held Evans

Christianity as Country Club – by Scot McKinight

Graeme — Wed, 14 Sep 2011 15:44:38 +0000

Author and commentator, Scot McKnight, recently wrote an article for the Huffington Post. I think he is spot on. You can read the original here, or an extract below:

Christianity as Country Club

by Scot McKnight, Huffington Post, 6 Sep 2011

Christianity sometimes presents itself as a country club. It presents itself this way even when it doesn’t want to, and sometimes it doesn’t even know it. I grew up loving to play golf but I played on the public course. I had friends who played at the local country club. When I visited the country club I felt like a visitor even though the members were wonderfully hospitable. Members felt like members and visitors felt like visitors, and knowing that you could “visit” only by invitation made the difference clear.

Many experience the church this way. Members know they belong, and visitors know they don’t. Well, after all, we might reason, the Christian faith is a religion of salvation, and Stephen Prothero’s recent book, “God is Not One,” depicted Christianity as a faith concerned with the “way of salvation.” And if you are saved, you are a member; if you are not saved, you are not. You might visit, but until you get saved you will know you are not in the club.

Christianity has been powerfully effective at creating what might be called a “salvation culture.” Roman Catholics, the Eastern Orthodox, Protestant mainliners, Protestant evangelicals and other families in the church like Pentecostals only offer slight variations on this salvation culture. This message of salvation is that God loves us but God is holy so sin must be dealt with; Jesus Christ died for us and through his death salvation can be found, but to find that salvation one must trust in Jesus Christ and his death. Those who do are both “in the club” and will spend eternity with the club members with God in heaven. In essence, this is Christianity’s salvation culture. It is a good message, but it is not the whole message.

I want to suggest that the country club image for the Christian faith, its salvation culture, no matter how historic and vital to the Christian church’s identity, inadequately frames what might be called its true “gospel culture.” If a salvation culture builds a country club, a gospel culture creates a story — one with a beginning in God’s shalom and one that aims at God’s shalom. And a gospel culture is not identical to a salvation culture.

What is a gospel culture? The gospel of Jesus and of the apostles cannot be reduced to the plan of salvation or to its effect: a salvation culture. The gospel, instead, is more robust and it is to tell the Story of Jesus as the fulfillment of Israel’s Story, of God’s design to build an Eden shaped by shalom. Notice how the apostle Paul defined gospel because he told a story and did not simply tell the facts of salvation: in 1 Corinthians 15 Paul tells us that the gospel is four events in the life of Jesus (not four spiritual laws) — the life, death, burial and resurrection of Jesus Christ. That Story, which only makes sense if we tie it to Israel’s Story, is the gospel that united the earliest Christians. It was the same gospel we find in the gospel sermons in the Book of Acts. And, now we get to Jesus. It is popular today to say Jesus’ gospel was “kingdom,” and by kingdom many people think “justice.” So, in essence, many today think the gospel of Jesus was justice and the church messed it up with its salvation culture. But this flattens the Story in a way not unlike the way a salvation culture flattens that same Story.

To be sure, Jesus preached the ideal society in the word “kingdom” but the biggest claim Jesus made was that the kingdom “was here” or “was arriving.” In other words, Jesus was telling us that the Story had moved to a new chapter — and he thought it was occurring in his day and through his vision. Here’s my claim: the gospel Jesus preached was that the Story of Israel had come to a new chapter in himself, in his day, and that it was a liberating, redeeming, and transforming Story.

A gospel culture focuses on the Jesus Story, the Story that God is at work among us — the incarnation. In other words, the essence of a gospel culture is a Jesus-shaped and Jesus-centered Story of God at work among us. It is not just a country club, but the Story of life-giving, self-sacrifice and hope that God can take ruins and create monuments of love, peace, justice and joy — and Jesus told us that Story is now taking place among us.

Christians need to recommit themselves all over again to a gospel culture. It’s not as natural to us as a salvation culture.

Source: Huffington Post

From Minority to Majority – a problem for Reformed Protestants

Graeme — Sun, 27 Feb 2011 12:23:23 +0000

This post was originally written on 10 June 2009, on the previous version of my blog

I was recently sent an article from the Associated Baptist Press (ABP, USA), entitled: “Baptists urged to consider risks of ‘majoritarian faith’”, by David Wilkinson. It is a news article about a recent lecture by Baptist historian Doug Weaver, speaking at the Baptist History and Heritage Society annual meeting.

His main point was that Baptists (and by inference, other Reformed Protestants) were shaped and formed as persecuted, minority groups. Now, they are majority, mainstream groups, and are in danger (I’d say they have already) lost their distinctiveness and compromised their values. In particular, he is concerned that Baptists have abandoned their belief in religious liberty (and in liberty in general).

While Baptists proudly point to religious liberty and church-state separation as their distinctive contributions to American history, Weaver said, contemporary Baptist heirs to that tradition may find it difficult to relate to their 17th-century forebears, who were part of a persecuted minority of dissenters to official state-supported denominations.

“We are used to being a part of the majority. We are the Bible Belt, maybe even the buckle of that belt. We are Baptists, the largest body of Protestants in the United States,” Weaver, a religion professor at Baylor University, said. “We have climbed the ladder of success numerically, socially and intellectually. We have an air of respectability. We are the majority; hear us roar.”

In contrast, he noted, it was the persecuted minority groups – the Anabaptists, Baptists and Quakers – that “pushed the Christian world in the 16th and 17th centuries to face the music and hear cries for complete religious liberty.”

Ironically, he added, many of those dissenters who fled to America to escape persecution in Europe soon used that hard-won freedom to persecute those in the New World who did not share their religious views.

Weaver said John Leland, the famous 18th-century Baptist advocate of religious freedom, noted that whenever you try to force a union between church and state in order to create a Christian nation, you have created a monster that denies liberty of conscience to anyone who dares to be different.

Weaver challenged American Christians to re-read their Bibles from the perspective of a religious minority group. From Moses and the Exodus to Daniel in the lion’s den to the teachings of Jesus to accounts of the early church, the Bible is filled with examples of the persecuted minority, he said.

“Can we hear Bible passages in the way that persecuted minorities have heard them when they talk about freedom? Can we read Bible passages like persecuted minorities would when they were being denied religious freedom by the government or by a majority group that was defining how free they can be?” he asked.

“I wonder who really understands the implications of freedom,” he added. “Those people who don’t have it and desperately want it, or those people who are threatened that they might lose control of it?”

The Bible and church history call 21st-century Baptists to “look in the mirror of our ‘majoritarian faith’ and see its risks,” Weaver said. Among those risks are that:

– “We cease to affirm religious liberty for all because we are now the majority.”

– “We fear losing our status as a majority faith in an ever-increasing[ly] pluralistic world, so our response is to assert oppressive control only majorities can pull off.”

– “We now become [like] the colonial Puritans and think that freedom is only for us and should be defined by us.”

– “We hide behind the rhetoric of being a Christian nation to justify religious favoritism toward our majority viewpoint,” forgetting that “Baptists’ forefathers and foremothers were persecuted by so-called national churches.”

– “We abandon — even denigrate — the separation of church and state that we desperately cried for when we were a minority faith in our infant years.”

– “We forget that freedom is a gift from God and not ours to withhold.”

Source: ABP, June 8, 2009

Four “lanes” of the emerging church

Graeme — Thu, 24 Feb 2011 23:16:36 +0000

This post was originally written on 7 March 2009, on the previous version of my blog

If you’ve done any reading on the emerging church, you’ll probably know the name Mark Driscoll. He has distanced himself from “Emergent”, the voice of emerging church in the USA. But he nevertheless still considers himself as “emerging”, although he prefers the label “Reformed Missional” or “Emerging Reformers”.

The video can be found at YouTube (click here). Or see below.

I think he is overly critical of the “fourth lane”, which he labels the “Emerging Liberals”. He is incorrect about Rob Bell, for example, who does NOT say that we can get rid of the virgin birth. It’s interesting. Driscoll says in this video below that “they are asking questions that no pastors should be asking”. Maybe that’s the big difference here. Reformed guys think that some issues should not be discussed, and that all Truth (with a capital T) has already been discovered (i.e. we are not wrong on any major issues right now in the history of the church). Anyone who is open to having conversations about this is labelled a liberal, and is seen as dangerous.

You decide.

But, here, at least is Driscoll’s video. I don’t buy into his analysis of the “emerging liberals”, but it probably fairly represents the concern most people have with the “emerging church”.

The video can be found at YouTube (click here).

On the previous blog, the following useful comments were added to the original post:

Tim Victor:
Both Bell and Driscol have a point on that very same issue. Though ‘misquoting’ Bell, Driscol nevertheless argues something important. I fear that on one had that misrepresentation (like Driscol’s here) clouds the discussions and causes more concern than is necessary. On the other hand, I do believe there are some basics to the faith and that rejecting them means rejecting or re-writing the Faith; the re-writing resulting in a rejection of one faith and the formation of another Christian-type of faith. That’s in part what I hear Driscol arguing that we take note of.

Graeme:
To Tim,
I agree that if we reject some “basics of the faith” then we don’t have Christianity any more.
Two comments. Emerging church thinkers are not rejecting these basics – they are investigating them. I know many of them personally, and have read most of the books, and most of them are in “conversation” mode. Luther, Calvin and Zwingli also started their ministry careers in this way, and there are many pamphlets of their early works that show the investigations and conversations that took place as their new theologies formed. Today, the difference is that these conversations have a larger audience than before. But they are conversations, not rejections. At least, for now.
Secondly, part of the discussion is to decide who gets to decide what the “basics of the faith” are. A simple example is homosexuality. Is this a “basic of the faith”? Is this something we must agree on, or we can have no fellowship? On what basis do we make such a decision? Ditto the role of women, the role of the Holy Spirit, racism and our view of abortion, gun control and the end times.
A more difficult example is the issue of the atonement. What exactly did Christ achieve on the cross, and how was it achieved? Critics of the emerging (liberal) church argue that they have abandoned “substitutionary atonement” or even “penal substitutionary atonement” (neither phrase appears in the Bible, by the way). This is not true. All I hear emerging thinkers say is that Christ accomplished MUCH MORE than MERELY a substitution for our punishment from a wrathful God. He did that, but that is only a small part of what he did.
Once again, I see the emerging (“liberal”) thinkers giving us MORE, not LESS, of the traditional Christian faith.

Stephen:
I’ve been over the book a few times and I’ve read all the internet hype and arguing back and forth over Rob Bell’s example of the Virgin birth as perhaps a brick of doctrine that could be removed without the wall falling down. I keep hearing the emerging crowd crying foul when people bring it up but honestly I still can’t see why Driscoll is wrong in portraying Bell the way he does. Bell essentially says, whilst affriming the virgin birth, that it is plausible that if that doctrine were removed it would not affect the faith which means he IS essentially saying that we can get rid of the virgin birth even if he himself chooses not to – if he isn’t saying that then why on earth use the virgin birth as an example? So sorry – don’t think Driscoll is wrong on calling him up on that one.
I do think Bell better fits halfway between camp #1 and camp#4 with McLaren, Pagitt, Jones etc.

Graeme:
Stephen,
Rob Bell has adequately defended his book elsewhere, and I don’t want to turn this thread into a discussion of his book. But here is what I see as important in that debate.
In “Velvet Elvis”, Bell is trying to make a point about how we interpret the Bible and how we create theology. He correctly points out that the Virgin Birth (a phrase that is not in the Bible, by the way) is only mentioned once in Scripture. AND he correctly points out the word for “virgin” is not actually the word for “virgin”. Rather, it should be better translated as “young girl”.
His point is about Biblical translation. He (again, correctly I believe) is making the point that we have created whole scaffoldings of theology on very shaky premises. We claim Jesus is the son of God, and then point to the virgin birth as incontrovertible proof of this claim. If someone points out that it was not a virgin birth would our whole theology of Jesus’ deity collapse?
He is arguing that it should not.
So, in other words, he is arguing for a STRONGER view of Jesus being God, not a weaker one!! He just wants us to look at the correct proofs, and not revert to simplistic (or even incorrect!) ones.
If that is what being a liberal is, then count me in!

Engaging with Islam – with an agenda of peace, reconciliation and truth seeking

Graeme — Tue, 04 Jan 2011 13:14:19 +0000

I wrote yesterday about the need to engage appropriately with skeptics of the Christian faith. It’s also important for Christians to engage with people of other faiths and religions. The most important route to lasting global peace right now is for the three major monotheistic religions to find ways to peacefully engage with each other.

It is amazing to me that the Christian right wing in the United States has so easily and quickly engaged – even integrated – with Judaism (and especially Zionistic Judaism). I don’t want to comment on that issue in this blog entry, but it does indicate that major religions are able to find ways to engage with each other when they share a common goal (like the protection of the State of Israel). What better goal for all religious leaders to have than world peace?

So, it was with interest that I read about Amr Khaled in the (very conservative) Spectator magazine Christmas edition. This is a Muslim cleric who seems to be gaining the kind of reputation in the Islamic world that Billy Graham or Bill Hybels have in the Protestant Christian world. Although there would be obviously be significant theological differences between us, I nevertheless support his efforts to bring about a calmer, more rational, more engaging Islam. That can only be a good thing, and should be supported by all Christian everywhere. Maybe this is a common space for all religious people (and those of no faith, too) to play.

But read the article for yourself (at The Spectator website, or an extract below) and make up your own mind.

Can this man defeat al-Qa’eda?

by JUSTIN MAROZZ
The Spectator, 18 DECEMBER 2010

Amr Khaled’s TV preaching has made him Islam’s answer to Billy Graham – and he’s mounting a direct attack on the terror camps of Yemen

Aden, Yemen

There’s a new weapon in the war on terror, ladies and gentlemen. Never mind drones and spies, surgical strikes and covert ops, they’re old hat. There’s a time and a place for them, of course, and we must thank our spooks and soldiers for helping to keep us safe, for foiling plots and knocking off the odd wayward beardie in distant deserts and freezing mountain passes. But that’s not really draining the swamp.

For those of us who would prefer not to live under sharia law; for those of us who like drinking and dancing and freely consorting with the other sex; freedom of expression, democracy and Test Match Special and all the other accoutrements, however decadent, of the West, there is good news to report. It turns out we have a supremely sleek new armament in the arsenal, it’s home-grown within the Islamic world, is long-term and sustainable, doesn’t cost squillions, has nothing to do with foreign infidels or armies and it — or rather he — has just stepped on to the battlefield in Yemen. Al-Qa’eda, prepare to meet your nemesis. He is the telemufti.

Amr Khaled, to give him his proper name, is a hugely popular preacher man from Egypt. He’s Islam’s answer to Billy Graham and rapidly becoming famous throughout the world. His website, amrkhaled.net, is an institution from Morocco to Oman. In a 2008 poll to determine the world’s top public intellectual, in which more than 500,000 voted, Khaled came in sixth. The New York Times has called him ‘the world’s most famous and influential Muslim television preacher’. We should also call him a godsend: a Muslim celebrity who is a proponent of inter-faith dialogue and who urges hundreds of thousands of young Muslims, who might otherwise be swayed by Osama, to rub along peacefully with the West.

The government of Yemen has been taking action against al-Qa’eda and knocking out terrorist cells. We now know, thanks to WikiLeaks, that the Americans have been doing the same. Khaled’s programme, officially endorsed by Sanaa, is a non-lethal supplement and, if properly supported, looks like the best bet for a long-term solution to radicalisation. It bears no harmful Western fingerprint or funding and aims to defeat ignorance through learning.

I met Khaled in Aden during Yemen’s hosting of the Gulf Cup 20 football tournament. Conventional wisdom had suggested this was an al-Qa’eda spectacular waiting to happen, that it was foolhardy in the extreme to stage the tournament here at all. As a headline in America’s Foreign Policy magazine put it, ‘Al-Qa’eda bombings, drive-by shootings, and penalty kicks… what are they thinking?’ And yet, as is so often the case, conventional wisdom, at least as expressed by the media, was wildly off target. Sorry to disappoint the doommongers, but there were no bombs. It was a rousing success.

Dodging the Yemeni football team, I made my way to Khaled’s suite in a swish resort hotel that overlooks the Gulf of Aden. Ragged mountains reared up on the horizon beyond an aquamarine sea. Aides came and went, scrutinising their mobile phones. Eventually, Amr Mohamed Helmi Khaled strode into the room, immaculately blazered, crisply shaved, poised and smiling. The very model of a charismatic televangelist.

Khaled was in Yemen to launch his latest project, A New Hope, which is aimed squarely at Al-Qa’eda in the Arabian Peninsula (AQAP) — widely seen as the greatest growing threat to the West. These are the beardies, you may remember, who brought you the failed underpants bomber Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab, and the failed cargo plane bomb, the one that never detonated over America. But what AQAP may lack in experience and professionalism, they make up for with deadly enthusiasm. One of the articles in their internet magazine, Inspire, is headlined ‘How to make a bomb in the kitchen of your Mom’.

So how do you plan to persuade Yemen’s youth that AQAP isn’t the right path to take? ‘Yemen is a country of peace and moderation. That’s how it’s described in the Koran,’ Khaled said. ‘Our project is to pull out the roots of extremism in Yemen and the Arab world, it’s to show the true beautiful colours of this country.’

The plan in Yemen is reassuringly straightforward, so obvious, in fact, one wonders why no one has thought about it before. It doesn’t involve missile strikes. ‘Violence does not succeed in confronting violence,’ Khaled said. The only army involved is Khaled’s phalanx of 100 clerics and 5,000 youth volunteers who will descend on every city in Yemen to confront extremism, preaching the ‘true, merciful Islam’ uncontaminated by talk of slaughtering infidels, imagined caliphates and a laundry bag of grievances. It will be a mix of some of the oldest technology known to mankind, including the pulpit during Friday prayers, and the latest wizardry on the internet. It started in late November and Khaled is convinced that before 2011 is out, AQAP will be beating a snivelling retreat. ‘We’ll show the whole world within one year that Yemen is bright and beautiful,’ he said with a smile.

Can he do it? Well he’s certainly had an impressive trajectory so far. He graduated from Cairo University in 1988 with a degree in accounting but soon discovered a taste and a talent for preaching. He became so popular that the Egyptian government grew nervous about his influence and banned him from speaking. Exile led Khaled to his vocation. He decamped to London where he discovered that far from being entirely corrupted, the West was a place where opportunity thrived. ‘I lived a wonderful life in freedom,’ he said. Khaled returned to Egypt with a dream: ‘to build a bridge between the East and the West’. And so far he’s done remarkably well. He has advised the British government and the UN, worked with Nike, Queen Rania and the Saudi royal family. But Khaled’s Yemen venture is by far his boldest move yet. It involves a three-pronged attack. First, there will be a high-profile media campaign, backed by the Yemeni government, making use of print media, television, mosques and the internet. This Khaled describes as ‘a battle for hearts and minds’, a concept that sounds a little more credible coming from a Muslim preacher than it does from a foreign army of occupation.

Next, Khaled’s UK-based Right Start Foundation will identify and train a new generation of youth leaders from across Yemen, placing them on the frontline of the battle of ideologies in an overt operation to undermine extremism. ‘To defeat the extremists we have to make the people very positive. We will focus on the majority of the youth who want to build not destroy.’

Lastly, Khaled’s team has chosen 100 of the Muslim world’s most respected clerics to preach moderation from pulpit and podcast. ‘Who gave the extremists the authority to speak on behalf of Muslims?’ Khaled was fired up by now, asking rhetorical questions in the manner of an evangelist.

‘All the world is asking, what is the Muslim world doing about this problem of extremism and terrorism? The truth is, Muslim scholars and preachers haven’t done enough. We need to move beyond just words, saying this is not Islam, this terrorism, it’s haram [forbidden]. We must actually do something.’

I asked him: why do you think you can succeed in defeating Islamist terrorism when so many brilliant minds have failed? ‘In 2007, I said to the youth of the Arab world — send me your dreams. I received 700,000 dreams in one month. They wrote to me talking about education, health, co-existence and peace. So I can speak on behalf of Muslims.’ Khaled does not suffer from a lack of self-confidence — it’s something he has in common with many successful Egyptians — but he needs this confidence to be persuasive.

And for those of us with more than a passing interest in history, the choice of Yemen for this bold, potentially dangerous experiment is irresistible. This is the birthplace of Arab civilisation. The Prophet Mohammed referred to it as ‘the land of faith and wisdom’. Why Yemen, I asked Khaled? ‘Yemenis represented 30 per cent of all the replies I received when I asked for the dreams of Arab youth,’ he said. What does that mean? ‘It means Yemen is ready.’

To win any war it is essential to know your enemy. As Yemen’s foreign minister Abu Bakr Abdullah Al Qirbi observed in the Huffington Post in November, ‘If underestimating one’s enemy is a disaster waiting to happen, overestimating him is also a mistake.’ Khaled won’t fall into either trap. He understands Muslim youth — and their limitations. He prefers to mock Osama, to belittle his understanding of the Koran rather than portray him as a warrior. He knows that talking up the threat of Islamism will only make it seem a more glamorous proposition to desperate young men.

‘Arab civilisation is currently going through one of the worst moments in its history,’ said Khaled with some urgency. ‘The West looks at us — Muslims and Islam and the Arab world in particular — like we’re the cause of the world’s troubles. But God described our prophet, and the religion he revealed, as mercy for the world. We want to prove that the Koran is right — that we are the world’s mercy.’

I left Khaled’s hotel thinking that we could all learn from his approach; wondering whether perhaps we all need to be both braver and less hysterical in the face of the unpleasant but frankly limited threat al-Qa’eda represents. Writing in the New York Times recently, Roger Cohen offered a rare glimmer of common sense when he advised Americans to show ‘inat’, the word coined by besieged Sarajevans during the Bosnian war to describe their ‘contempt-cum-spite’ for the gunners on the hills, which they expressed by carrying on as usual under fire. Cohen described the unfettered growth of the American security bureaucracy as ‘a greater long-term threat’ to the US than a few ‘madmen’ in Yemen. Let’s show ‘inat’, as Khaled does, and remember that ‘Keep calm and carry on’ is a decent guide to dealing with al-Qa’eda, too.

Source: The Spectator, 18 DECEMBER 2010

Reflections on Christmas and Christianity in the USA

Graeme — Thu, 23 Dec 2010 09:53:41 +0000

The New York Times op-ed column this past weekend included an excellent analysis of two recent books and what they tell us about Christians in the USA. Well worth a read, especially at this time of year.

You can read the piece at the NY Times website here, or an extract below.

A Tough Season for Believers

By ROSS DOUTHAT
Published: NY Times op-ed column, December 19, 2010

Christmas is hard for everyone. But it’s particularly hard for people who actually believe in it.

In a sense, of course, there’s no better time to be a Christian than the first 25 days of December. But this is also the season when American Christians can feel most embattled. Their piety is overshadowed by materialist ticky-tack. Their great feast is compromised by Christmukkwanzaa multiculturalism. And the once-a-year churchgoers crowding the pews beside them are a reminder of how many Americans regard religion as just another form of midwinter entertainment, wedged in between “The Nutcracker” and “Miracle on 34th Street.”

These anxieties can be overdrawn, and they’re frequently turned to cynical purposes. (Think of the annual “war on Christmas” drumbeat, or last week’s complaints from Republican senators about the supposed “sacrilege” of keeping Congress in session through the holiday.) But they also reflect the peculiar and complicated status of Christian faith in American life. Depending on the angle you take, Christianity is either dominant or under siege, ubiquitous or marginal, the strongest religion in the country or a waning and increasingly archaic faith.

Happily, for those who need a last-minute gift for the anxious Christian in their life, the year just past featured two thick, impressive books that wrestle with exactly these complexities.

The first is “American Grace,” co-written by Harvard’s Robert Putnam (of “Bowling Alone” fame) and Notre Dame’s David Campbell, which examines the role that religion plays in binding up the nation’s social fabric. Over all, they argue, our society reaps enormous benefits from religious engagement, while suffering from few of the potential downsides. Widespread churchgoing seems to make Americans more altruistic and more engaged with their communities, more likely to volunteer and more inclined to give to secular and religious charities. Yet at the same time, thanks to Americans’ ever-increasing tolerance, we’ve been spared the kind of sectarian conflict that often accompanies religious zeal.

But for Christians, this sunny story has a dark side. Religious faith looks more socially beneficial to America than ever, but the institutional Christianity that’s historically generated most of those benefits seems to be gradually losing its appeal.

In the last 50 years, the Christian churches have undergone what “American Grace” describes as a shock and two aftershocks. The initial earthquake was the cultural revolution of the 1960s, which undercut religious authority as it did all authority, while dealing a particular blow to Christian sexual ethics. The first aftershock was the rise of religious conservatism, and particularly evangelical faith, as a backlash against the cultural revolution’s excesses. But now we’re living through the second aftershock, a backlash to that backlash — a revolt against the association between Christian faith and conservative politics, Putnam and Campbell argue, in which millions of Americans (younger Americans, especially) may be abandoning organized Christianity altogether.

Their argument is complemented by the University of Virginia sociologist James Davison Hunter’s “To Change the World,” an often withering account of recent Christian attempts to influence American politics and society. Having popularized the term “culture war” two decades ago, Hunter now argues that the “war” footing has led American Christians into a cul-de-sac. It has encouraged both conservative and liberal believers to frame their mission primarily in terms of conflict, and to express themselves almost exclusively in the “language of loss, disappointment, anger, antipathy, resentment and desire for conquest.”

Thanks in part to this bunker mentality, American Christianity has become what Hunter calls a “weak culture” — one that mobilizes but doesn’t convert, alienates rather than seduces, and looks backward toward a lost past instead of forward to a vibrant future. In spite of their numerical strength and reserves of social capital, he argues, the Christian churches are mainly influential only in the “peripheral areas” of our common life. In the commanding heights of culture, Christianity punches way below its weight.

Putnam and Campbell are quantitative, liberal, and upbeat; Hunter is qualitative, conservative and conflicted. But both books come around to a similar argument: this month’s ubiquitous carols and crèches notwithstanding, believing Christians are no longer what they once were — an overwhelming majority in a self-consciously Christian nation. The question is whether they can become a creative and attractive minority in a different sort of culture, where they’re competing not only with rival faiths but with a host of pseudo-Christian spiritualities, and where the idea of a single religious truth seems increasingly passé.

Or to put it another way, Christians need to find a way to thrive in a society that looks less and less like any sort of Christendom — and more and more like the diverse and complicated Roman Empire where their religion had its beginning, 2,000 years ago this week.

Source: NY Times

Is Jesus left wing? (You better believe it!)

Graeme — Sun, 19 Dec 2010 10:50:08 +0000

The conservative right wing have co-opted Jesus as their personal mascot. But their Jesus is not the Jesus I see in the Bible. The latest cover article of The New Statesman magazine looks at this issue in an excellent way. You can read a lengthy extract below, or the full original at the New Statesman website here.

What would Jesus do?

Mehdi Hasan
Published 15 December 2010

Conservatives claim Christ as one of their own. But in word and deed, the son of God was much more left-wing than the religious right likes to believe.

Was Jesus Christ a lefty? Philosophers, politicians, theologians and lay members of the various Christian churches have long been divided on the subject. The former Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev once declared: “Jesus was the first socialist, the first to seek a better life for mankind.” The Venezuelan president, Hugo Chávez, went further, describing Christ as “the greatest socialist in history”. But it’s not just Russian ex-communists and Bolivarian socialists who consider Jesus to be a fellow-traveller. Even the Daily Mail sketch-writer Quentin Letts once confessed: “Jesus preached fairness – you could almost call him a lefty.”

That conservatives have succeeded in claiming Christ as one of their own in recent years – especially in the US, where the Christian right is in the ascendancy – is a tragedy for the modern left. Throughout history, Jesus’s teachings have inspired radical social and political movements: Christian pacifism (think the Quakers, Martin Luther King or Bruce Kent in CND), Christian socialism (Keir Hardie or Tony Benn), liberation theology (in South America) and even “Christian communism”. In the words of the 19th-century French utopian philosopher Étienne Cabet, “Communism is Christianity . . . it is pure Christianity, before it was corrupted by Catholicism.”

These days, however, the so-called God-botherers tend to be on the right. In his book God’s Politics, the US Evangelical pastor Jim Wallis, spiritual adviser to President Obama and Gordon Brown before him, laments the manner in which Jesus’s message has been misinterpreted by the warring political tribes, writing of how the right gets Christ wrong, while the left doesn’t get him at all.

He reminds his readers that being a Christian is not necessarily the same as being a “right-wing Christian fundamentalist”, and that the Bible’s focus on social justice and the poor shows that economic life should be organised around the needs of society’s weakest and most vulnerable members.

The unemployed son of two asylum-seekers – Joseph and Mary – who fled to Egypt to avoid the genocidal tendencies of King Herod, the Jesus of the Gospels is a bearded, sandal-wearing, unmarried rabbi from Nazareth with all the personal traits of a modern revolutionary. In an essay published in 2007, the Marxist literary critic Terry Eagleton noted that the Gospels present Christ as “homeless, propertyless, peripatetic, socially marginal, disdainful of kinfolk, without a trade or occupation, a friend of outcasts and pariahs, averse to material possessions, without fear for his own safety, a thorn in the side of the establishment and a scourge of the rich and powerful”. Eagleton added: “Jesus has most of the characteristic features of the revolutionary activist, including celibacy.”

Traits of character aside, where would Jesus stand in the main debates of our time, such as war and peace, wealth and taxation, health care and financial reform? To use the formula made popular by Evangelicals in America (often abbreviated to WWJD), “What would Jesus do?” He would do the same as any self-respecting lefty. Here are five reasons why.

1. Jesus the class warrior

From Cuban communists to New Labour social democrats, a belief in redistributing wealth from the rich to the poor is at the core of leftist thinking. The means used to achieve that redistribution, such as higher rates of income tax, are often decried by conservatives as representing the “politics of envy”, a misguided Marxist desire for class war.

Jesus, however, went far beyond the 50p top rate of tax or a bonus tax in his zeal for redistribution and his rhetorical attacks on the richest members of society. To see what the “politics of envy” looks like in the Gospels, turn to Mark 10:21-25. Here, Jesus gives a startling answer to a pious Jewish man who has asked him how he can “inherit eternal life”.

21 Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.” 22 When he heard this, he was shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions. 23 Then Jesus looked around and said to his disciples, “How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!” 24 And the disciples were perplexed at these words. But Jesus said to them again, “Children, how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God! 25 It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.”

Forget taxing the rich until the pips squeak, Denis Healey-style; Jesus declares that the Roman Abramoviches and Donald Trumps of this world will struggle to achieve salvation in the afterlife. Why? “You cannot serve God and wealth,” he says (Matthew 6:24). And, according to the epistles, “The love of money is a root of all kinds of evil” (1 Timothy 6:10).

Further, Jesus argues that we have a moral obligation to pay taxes. In one of his parables, he heaps praise on a “righteous” tax collector (Luke 18:9-14). Were he alive today, Jesus would be leading the campaign to crack down on tax-dodging billionaires and multinational corporations. Here, in one of the best-known stories from the Gospels (Matthew 22:17-21), he is challenged by the followers of the Pharisees:

17 “Tell us, then, what you think. Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?” 18 But Jesus, aware of their malice, said, “Why are you putting me to the test, you hypocrites? 19 Show me the coin used for the tax.” And they brought him a denarius. 20 Then he said to them, “Whose head is this, and whose title?” 21 They answered, “The emperor’s.” Then he said to them, “Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.”

It perhaps offers a fitting slogan for the placards of UK Uncut, the newly formed group protesting against tax avoidance, at its next high-street demo. In recent weeks, UK Uncut has used direct action to shut down stores owned by Vodafone (accused of being let off £6bn in tax) and the coalition government’s “cuts tsar”, Philip Green (accused of avoiding a £285m bill by transferring ownership of his Arcadia business empire to his wife, who lives in a tax haven, Monaco). Jesus would approve.

On one occasion, despite telling his companions that he is not liable to pay the “temple tax” that is demanded of every Jewish man in Palestine – because the Father does not require it from his own son – Jesus publicly pays the tax (Matthew 17:24-27). As the Scottish theologian and New Testament scholar William Barclay wrote: “Jesus is saying, ‘We must pay so as not to set a bad example to others. We must not only do our duty, we must go beyond duty.’”

2. Jesus the banker basher

In March 2009, the windows of the detached stone villa in Edinburgh belonging to the disgraced Fred Goodwin, former chief executive of the bailed-out Royal Bank of Scotland, were smashed and his Mercedes S600 was vandalised. Some complained that the bankers were being made “scapegoats” for the financial crisis. I suspect Jesus might have been tempted to throw the first stone. He had form with “banker bashing”, as Mark (11:15-17) testifies.

15 And he entered the temple and began to drive out those who were selling and those who were buying in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money-changers and the seats of those who sold doves; 16 and he would not allow anyone to carry anything through the temple. 17 He was teaching and saying, “Is it not written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations’? But you have made it a den of robbers.”

Tables turned over, wealth scattered, moneymen described as robbers – Christ’s “cleansing of the temple” is a blueprint for the direct action against the financial and political elite by left-wing activists today. In Eagleton’s words, this was Christ’s attack on the “bastion of the ruling class”.

3. Jesus the fair-wage campaigner

It isn’t a coincidence that the campaign for a “living wage” – the minimum wage required for every worker to earn enough to provide his family with the essentials of life – has been driven by Citizens UK, a collection of urban community and faith groups that includes churches. The Gospels don’t quite tell us that Jesus was a trade unionist, but they do suggest he backed a living wage.

Matthew 20:1-16 narrates the “parable of the workers in the vineyard”, which tells of five sets of labourers who arrived for work very early in the morning, at 9am, at noon, at 3pm and at 5pm. They are all paid at 6pm and each labourer receives the same amount – one denarius, as agreed to with their employer. Unsurprisingly, those who arrived earlier and did more work complained that they had received the same pay as those who had come later: “These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.” But, for Jesus, the casual labourers who came to work for the landowner in his vineyard had basic needs that had to be satisfied, and those who had come late had been struggling to find work in a laissez-faire market: “No one has hired us,” the last labourers tell the landowner. “From each according to his ability, to each according to his need,” in the words of Karl Marx.

According to Jack Mahoney, emeritus professor of moral and social theology at the University of London, this parable allows us to think of the employer “as not being simply a generous, or overgenerous, employer, but in fact as being a just employer”, someone who pays “a daily living wage”.

4. Jesus the NHS champion

Jesus was a healer. The Gospels contain countless stories in which he helps the blind to see, the deaf to hear and the lame to walk. There is little evidence that he charged for his services, demanded to see an insurance card before offering treatment, or profited from his miraculous ability to bring the dead back to life.

He called on his disciples to do the same, instructing them to go into towns and “cure the sick who are there” (Luke 10:9). Again, there is no discussion of payment or fees or charges. Indeed, throughout his life, in word and deed, Jesus was a champion of universal health care, free at the point of use. He would have been an ardent and passionate defender of the NHS from free-market “reforms”.

Take the story of the synagogue leader Jairus and his terminally ill daughter, and that of an unknown, destitute woman who has been haemorrhaging for 12 years and has “spent all that she had” paying physicians (Mark 5:21-43). Jesus heals both the sick daughter and the destitute woman. The linking of these two stories reminds us how sickness and ill-health are universal; we all, regardless of social status or bank balance, need access to health care at some stage in our lives.

The American academic, blogger and Baptist minister Drew Smith explains the political significance of these verses. “In a market-driven system of health care, the unnamed woman would have perhaps gone untreated, but Jairus would have had the health care he needed for his daughter. After all, Jairus is a man of means . . . But in stopping to heal the unnamed woman instead of proceeding to Jairus’s house uninterrupted, Jesus also rebuked a system that offered preferential treatment for those like Jairus who have power, status and money.”

It is no wonder that in the heated town-hall debates that were held across the US in the run-up to the signing of the Obama administration’s health reform bill, which extended health-care coverage to an estimated 32 million uninsured Americans, some liberal activists carried placards proclaiming: “Jesus would have voted Yes”.

5. Jesus the anti-war activist

Would Jesus have backed the Iraq war? Or would he have joined the two million anti-war protesters marching through the streets of London in February 2003? How about the war in Afghanistan? Stay the course? Or do a deal with the Taliban and bring the troops home? WWJD?

Jesus’s pronouncements on war and peace, action and reaction, confirm his preference for non-violent struggle. “Blessed are the peacemakers,” he says, “for they will be called children of God” (Matthew 5:9). And: “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also” (Matthew 5:38-39). He also says: “Put your sword back into its place; for all who take the sword will perish by the sword” (Matthew 26:52).

Christian peaceniks point to these verses when challenging the militarism of ostensibly Christian nations such as the US and the UK. “I want a faith that takes Jesus seriously in foreign policy,” says Jim Wallis. “When Jesus says, ‘Blessed are the peacemakers,’ what does that mean? This is what Jesus taught. He doesn’t say the ‘peace lovers’. Blessed are the peacemakers.” Wallis also says: “I think it’s not credible to believe that Jesus’s command to be peacemakers is best fulfilled by American military supremacy through the imposition of Pax Americana.”

In his new memoir, Decision Points, the former US president and born-again Christian George W Bush recalls how he arrived at his decision to approve a request from the CIA to waterboard Khalid Sheikh Mohammed, the alleged mastermind of the 11 September 2001 attacks. “I thought about the 2,973 people stolen from their families by al-Qaeda on 9/11 . . . ‘Damn right,’ I said.” But Jesus, the man once identified by Bush as his favourite political philosopher, has little time for such talk of vengeance and retribution. In Luke 6:27-28, he says: “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.”

The ex-president is said to have confessed to a group of Palestinian officials that God told him to “fight those terrorists in Afghanistan . . . and end the tyranny in Iraq”. Given Jesus’s rhetoric on non-violence and “peacemakers”,

I suspect the voices in Bush’s head were not those of God, or his son.

Love your enemies. Renounce your wealth. Pay your taxes. Help the poor. Cure the ill (for free). These are the hallmarks of a left-wing, socialist politics. What Jesus wouldn’t do is allow the rich to get richer, give a free pass to the bonus-hungry bankers and invade one foreign country after another. It is difficult to disagree with Wallis when he says: “The politics of Jesus is a problem for the religious right.”

Mehdi Hasan is senior editor (politics) of the New Statesman.

Classical Flash Mob: A wonderful intergenerational experience

Graeme — Mon, 29 Nov 2010 08:02:02 +0000

One of the questions I am most often asked when I do consulting on different generations with churches and faith-based groups, is “what can we do to get young and old people doing things together”. Often, the question behind the question is about how to get young and old to enjoy the same sort of worship service together. That’s a tough (but not impossible) ask.

My response is normally to push people to think beyond the church service, and to think of actual service. Serving each other, and serving others together, is probably the easiest way to create inter-generational experiences.

So, I really enjoyed a YouTube video that is the most watched video on the web in the past week. I enjoyed it even more that it was my mother who sent me the link. It’s a four minute video of a very well executed flash mob singing the Hallelujah Chorus. It struck me that this is the perfect Christmas inter-generational experience. Young and old would both love this experience. And it is such a feel good experience, one can only imagine it will live long in the memories of all who were there.

Watch the video below, or at YouTube directly (and join the – literally – millions of others who have done the same in the past few days):

Study: Why Young Christians Leave the Church