'The idol of nationalism...has led industrialists to support militaristic programmes that may have seemed patriotic at the time, but in hindsight ruined their reputation for all time.'
This quotation from Tim Keller's new book 'Every Good Endeavour' made me pause. It is obviously a point that is being made about American industry. However, the more I looked at it the more I thought it could very easily apply to the Church, not just in America but a lot closer to home. Let me re-work the sentence to show you what I mean; 'The idol of nationalism has led church leaders to support political causes that may have seemed patriotic at the time, but in hindsight ruined their reputation (and hindered the cause of the gospel) for some considerable time.'
This could be said to be true of the church in many places and times. It obviously applies to elements of the church in Germany in the 1930s where a desire to be rid of 'godless Bolshevism' and restore national pride led the church to passively stand by and, at times, actively co-operate as the Nazi regime rounded up Jews, homosexuals, gypsies and others and had them systematically murdered. It applies to elements of the Dutch Reformed Church in South Africa who supported apartheid and came up with a phoney theology to justify it.
But here's the thing. It applies to the churches in Ireland (North and South, Protestant and Catholic) just as much. As a Presbyterian I can only speak to my own church. Others can make the application to theirs. In 1912 many Presbyterians, led by their official church leaders, signed their names to the Ulster Covenant. The issues around the signing of the covenant were complex. Many Protestants genuinely felt that their religious freedoms would be under threat from Home Rule but what it produced (or encouraged) was an identification between Protestantism and political Unionism that exists to this day. This identification has not helped the cause of the gospel in Ireland and, as Presbyterians, we are always to be more committed to the gospel than to any political or ideological cause.
The implications continue to this day. We cannot be more committed to the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland than to the kingdom of God. We cannot be more exercised about the flying of a flag than about the advance of the gospel. We cannot give the impression that our British identity means more to us than our identity in Christ. We cannot be or do these things because to be or do these things is, put simply, idolatry.
We are called by the gospel to put away our idols. Unfortunately our hearts are idol factories and so we will be constantly tempted to find new things to worship that are not God. With the the help of the Holy Spirit we must name and resist the idolatries of materialism, success, popularity, career, relationships and, yes, nationalism. It must be able to be said of us that we are people for whom to live is Christ and to die is gain. I would love that to be able to be said of me and of the Presbyterian church that I love. By God's grace I hope that it might be so.
Monday, 11 March 2013
Friday, 1 March 2013
Schindler, Spielberg and a lesson I learned 20 years ago this month
This month sees the 20th anniversary of the one of the most influential movies of my youth. Schindler's List was a movie that simply had to be seen when it came into the cinemas in 1993. It was released 50 years after the clearing of the Krakow ghetto; an event which forms the long, central scene in the movie as Oskar Schindler's eyes are truly opened to the horror and brutality of the Nazi regime.
I watched the movie again the other night to remind myself of Steven Spielberg's epic achievement. It still resonates as a monumental testimony to lives so unnecessarily lost to hatred and genocide. But it also bears witness to the true nature of evil.
'Evil' is a word which, when Schindler's List was released 20 years ago, was losing currency. Many did not think that it was an appropriate word to use any more. Along with words like 'sin' and 'right' and 'wrong', 'evil' was seen as too judgmental, too condemnatory, not understanding enough of the complexities of human psychology and sociology of which we late 20th century westerners had a so much better grasp than our ancestors. Then 9/11 happened and the only word we could find to describe it was 'evil'.
The Nazi commandant in the movie, Amon Goeth, played to Oscar winning effect by Ralph Fiennes, is a study in evil. Psychology and sociology fail to explain how a middle class, well educated German officer can behave as he did. Only the existence of evil in the life of a man and the system which he represented can explain it. In one scene in the movie, Goeth leaves his mistress in bed, goes to his balcony and in sheer boredom picks up his rifle and shoots a number of random Jewish prisoners in the camp below his house. Having relieved his boredom, he then goes to the bathroom to relieve his bladder. The utter banality of evil has rarely been so well expressed in any movie.
What is more complex in the movie is how the urge to do good at any cost has to grow slowly and fitfully in the life of Oskar Schindler. Schindler is a playboy businessman, a womaniser and a racketeer, determined to make as much money as he can out of the war. Jewish labour for his ceramic factory is cheaper than ordinary Polish labour and so he bribes the Nazis to allow him to employ Jews while he himself takes up residence in an apartment from which a wealthy Jewish family have recently been evicted.
It is as he witnesses the slaughter of the clearing of the Krakow ghetto that the true nature of the Nazi party to which he belongs becomes clear to him. But even then the famous list of the movie's title, which saves his workers from extermination, is a last minute rescue plan. In the moving final moments of the movie, Schindler is not elated that his workers have survived the war against all odds. He is guilt ridden that he did not save more. As he tears his Nazi party pin from his jacket and declares that he could have sold it and got two more out, at least one, it is a powerful scene which stays in the memory of anyone who has seen the movie.
Schindler's List is not regarded, in technical terms, as Spielberg's best work. Some of his less 'serious' movies, like ET, are better examples of the story teller's art. But it is almost certainly the work for which he will be remembered. He reminded a generation that was in danger of forgetting the Holocaust, of why we must not forget and why such evil must be named as evil. Other movies followed in Spielberg's wake and are worth watching - The Pianist, Life is Beautiful and The Boy with the Striped Pyjamas to name three.
But if you get a chance watch Schindler's List again (or for the first time) on this 20th anniversary. It will not be 'enjoyable' but it will move you afresh, it will stiffen your resolve to name and stand up to evil and it will remind you that even desperately flawed individuals like you, me and Oskar Schindler, can still make a difference. And if you are a Christian, remind yourself at the end of the movie that evil has been defeated and that all these evils (even genocide) will disappear when Christ wipes every tear from every eye and death and mourning and crying and pain are things of the past.
I watched the movie again the other night to remind myself of Steven Spielberg's epic achievement. It still resonates as a monumental testimony to lives so unnecessarily lost to hatred and genocide. But it also bears witness to the true nature of evil.
'Evil' is a word which, when Schindler's List was released 20 years ago, was losing currency. Many did not think that it was an appropriate word to use any more. Along with words like 'sin' and 'right' and 'wrong', 'evil' was seen as too judgmental, too condemnatory, not understanding enough of the complexities of human psychology and sociology of which we late 20th century westerners had a so much better grasp than our ancestors. Then 9/11 happened and the only word we could find to describe it was 'evil'.
The Nazi commandant in the movie, Amon Goeth, played to Oscar winning effect by Ralph Fiennes, is a study in evil. Psychology and sociology fail to explain how a middle class, well educated German officer can behave as he did. Only the existence of evil in the life of a man and the system which he represented can explain it. In one scene in the movie, Goeth leaves his mistress in bed, goes to his balcony and in sheer boredom picks up his rifle and shoots a number of random Jewish prisoners in the camp below his house. Having relieved his boredom, he then goes to the bathroom to relieve his bladder. The utter banality of evil has rarely been so well expressed in any movie.
What is more complex in the movie is how the urge to do good at any cost has to grow slowly and fitfully in the life of Oskar Schindler. Schindler is a playboy businessman, a womaniser and a racketeer, determined to make as much money as he can out of the war. Jewish labour for his ceramic factory is cheaper than ordinary Polish labour and so he bribes the Nazis to allow him to employ Jews while he himself takes up residence in an apartment from which a wealthy Jewish family have recently been evicted.
It is as he witnesses the slaughter of the clearing of the Krakow ghetto that the true nature of the Nazi party to which he belongs becomes clear to him. But even then the famous list of the movie's title, which saves his workers from extermination, is a last minute rescue plan. In the moving final moments of the movie, Schindler is not elated that his workers have survived the war against all odds. He is guilt ridden that he did not save more. As he tears his Nazi party pin from his jacket and declares that he could have sold it and got two more out, at least one, it is a powerful scene which stays in the memory of anyone who has seen the movie.
Schindler's List is not regarded, in technical terms, as Spielberg's best work. Some of his less 'serious' movies, like ET, are better examples of the story teller's art. But it is almost certainly the work for which he will be remembered. He reminded a generation that was in danger of forgetting the Holocaust, of why we must not forget and why such evil must be named as evil. Other movies followed in Spielberg's wake and are worth watching - The Pianist, Life is Beautiful and The Boy with the Striped Pyjamas to name three.
But if you get a chance watch Schindler's List again (or for the first time) on this 20th anniversary. It will not be 'enjoyable' but it will move you afresh, it will stiffen your resolve to name and stand up to evil and it will remind you that even desperately flawed individuals like you, me and Oskar Schindler, can still make a difference. And if you are a Christian, remind yourself at the end of the movie that evil has been defeated and that all these evils (even genocide) will disappear when Christ wipes every tear from every eye and death and mourning and crying and pain are things of the past.
Thursday, 7 February 2013
My rights, your rights, their rights
This is my first post of 2013. There have been times since the middle of December when I have been sorely tempted to blog but then read things or seen things that have put the case far better. Three things have dominated cultural debate over the last two months. One is a UK issue, one a US issue and one a Northern Ireland issue. I am talking here about marriage, guns and flags.
They are very different issues in very different contexts but they all boil down to one thing - a question of rights and whose rights are more important, whose rights are worthy of defending. The rights of gay people, gun owners and unionists have all been up for discussion over the Internet and the TV news. What is amazing is that all these discussions took place over Christmas, when the Christian community celebrated the one who gave up all his rights to enter this world as a helpless child whose upbringing was determined by his parents, his community and, for at least the early part of his life, the evil schemes of a tyrannical king.
One lesson I learn from Jesus' approach to his rights is that he willingly gave up his rights for others. He gave up his right to be recognised as the Son of God so that I would have the right to be called a child of God. I, as a follower of Jesus, am required to give up my rights for others. But I also learn from Jesus that, as a disciple of his, I am required to stand up for the rights of others who no-one else will defend. Jesus stands up for the leper and the woman caught in adultery and the people who are being robbed by the Temple money changers. He stands up, above all, for God's right to be honoured and glorified by his people.
When I made the argument in a flags discussion on Facebook that Jesus gave up his rights I received the reply that it is just as well we didn't take the 'turn the other cheek' approach against Nazi Germany. But of course in World War II we were (possibly too late) standing up for the rights of other people - the Czechs, the Poles and ultimately the Jews, Gypsies, homosexuals and many others who were sent to the death camps.
The question also must be asked about what are the real human rights issues of our day. I don't believe that marriage is a fundamental human right that should be available equally to all kinds of sexual relationships. I believe that it is a gift of God's grace to be shared by one man and one woman. I also don't believe that it is a fundamental human right to bear arms, although I accept that, in the American context, it is important for the government to give good reasons before it curtails that constitutional right. I do not believe that it is a fundamental human right to see the flag of the country in which you live flying over the principal government building in the capital city.
I do believe that it is a fundamental human right to be able to live and feed your family. This is aright that, according to the IF campaign, one in eight of the world's population do not enjoy. It is to scandalous that gay people are not allowed to marry. It is not scandalous that semi-automatic rifles might be banned. It is not scandalous that the Union flag only flies on designated days. It IS scandalous that one billion people will go to bed hungry tonight. Will we stand up for their rights?
In the words of the old and cliched bracelet, what WOULD Jesus do?
They are very different issues in very different contexts but they all boil down to one thing - a question of rights and whose rights are more important, whose rights are worthy of defending. The rights of gay people, gun owners and unionists have all been up for discussion over the Internet and the TV news. What is amazing is that all these discussions took place over Christmas, when the Christian community celebrated the one who gave up all his rights to enter this world as a helpless child whose upbringing was determined by his parents, his community and, for at least the early part of his life, the evil schemes of a tyrannical king.
One lesson I learn from Jesus' approach to his rights is that he willingly gave up his rights for others. He gave up his right to be recognised as the Son of God so that I would have the right to be called a child of God. I, as a follower of Jesus, am required to give up my rights for others. But I also learn from Jesus that, as a disciple of his, I am required to stand up for the rights of others who no-one else will defend. Jesus stands up for the leper and the woman caught in adultery and the people who are being robbed by the Temple money changers. He stands up, above all, for God's right to be honoured and glorified by his people.
When I made the argument in a flags discussion on Facebook that Jesus gave up his rights I received the reply that it is just as well we didn't take the 'turn the other cheek' approach against Nazi Germany. But of course in World War II we were (possibly too late) standing up for the rights of other people - the Czechs, the Poles and ultimately the Jews, Gypsies, homosexuals and many others who were sent to the death camps.
The question also must be asked about what are the real human rights issues of our day. I don't believe that marriage is a fundamental human right that should be available equally to all kinds of sexual relationships. I believe that it is a gift of God's grace to be shared by one man and one woman. I also don't believe that it is a fundamental human right to bear arms, although I accept that, in the American context, it is important for the government to give good reasons before it curtails that constitutional right. I do not believe that it is a fundamental human right to see the flag of the country in which you live flying over the principal government building in the capital city.
I do believe that it is a fundamental human right to be able to live and feed your family. This is aright that, according to the IF campaign, one in eight of the world's population do not enjoy. It is to scandalous that gay people are not allowed to marry. It is not scandalous that semi-automatic rifles might be banned. It is not scandalous that the Union flag only flies on designated days. It IS scandalous that one billion people will go to bed hungry tonight. Will we stand up for their rights?
In the words of the old and cliched bracelet, what WOULD Jesus do?
Tuesday, 11 December 2012
Christmas, flags, identity and leadership
We hear it every Christmas time but hope and history won't rhyme
Peace on earth
Those words were written by U2 in response, as far as I understand, to the Omagh bomb in 1998. They were a recognition that in the midst of a fragile peace process, violence and prejudice were never far away. Fourteen years on, at Christmas time, we seem to be witnessing once again the failure of hope and history to rhyme with each other.
What is it that we are really witnessing this week, I wonder? I have had discussions about the protests and violence of this week with friends online and in the flesh. I have heard endless radio phone in shows trying to find out what is really going on out there. I have been told that it is a lack of leadership, and yet every politician I have heard claims to be exercising real leadership. I have been told that it is a crisis of identity and yet nobody could possibly miss the fact that the protestors on our streets very strongly identify themselves as British. I have been told that the church has to take some responsibility for walking away from loyalist areas from the 1970s onwards and leaving them without the hope of the gospel. To a large degree I sympathise with that view.
What do I see as I watch the news from our land and how does what I see make me feel?
I see lost people. Politicians lost for a way to exercise any real influence on society and lost for a way to genuinely seek a shared future. Ordinary people from working class loyalist areas lost for a way to make themselves heard and so taking the opportunity to express themselves in ways that are unacceptable in a democratic society. People who would be lost for an identity if their Britishness was taken away from them. And yes, I see church leaders lost for a way to reach out with the gospel of redeeming grace into our communities at the one time of year when God's amazing and indescribable gift of grace should be inspiring our every thought, deed and word.
And how does it make me feel? Like Naomi Long, I feel heartbroken for my country. But I also feel angry at the ways in which we still try to manipulate human beings and their emotions in order to score points against our political opponents. Let me be clear. There are people in positions of responsibility on all sides who have acted irresponsibly this week and that makes me deeply angry.
But then I feel guilty. I feel guilty because I am part of this society and have been for 40 years. What have I done to make things better for those who are deprived of opportunities, deprived of a voice, deprived of an identity, deprived of the assurance that they are valued and loved? I have been given the enormous opportunity of being a child of God. My voice is heard in the throne room of the King of Kings. My identity in Christ is an identity that can never be threatened by any external act. I am valued at the cost of the cross and loved beyond my wildest imagination. Have I shared that? Have you?
I will pray for my country. I will pray for those Christian leaders genuinely reaching out to these socially isolated and desperate communities. I hope you will too. Let's not just sit back and blame the politicians for a lack of leadership without considering what we can do. Let's approach the King of Kings, who alone deserves our total allegiance and, if we are serious about that allegiance, let's answer his call to be salt and light in our land. Only in that way will the hope of the gospel and the history of our wee country be found to be in harmony with each other.
Tuesday, 25 September 2012
Going out like Elijah
The following is from my contribution to Ballygrainey's monthly newsletter. I hope you like it:
Rich Mullins is one of my favourite Christian song writers. Since university I have been listening to his music and the wisdom that comes through his songs. One of his most evocative and meaningful songs for me is a song called Elijah. It takes its inspiration from that final journey that Elijah takes with his student, Elisha, in 2 Kings chapter 2.
In the story Elisha refuses to turn back, despite Elijah’s repeated requests. He also refuses to listen to the words of the various prophets they meet on the journey stating that Elijah will be taken from him that day. He knows this will be the case but he doesn’t want to think about it. Isn’t this attitude one that we share when we know we are going to lose a loved one? As the end approaches we don’t want to think about life without them and we don’t want to leave their side.
But in his song, Rich Mullins concentrates on Elijah’s attitude to leaving Elisha and everything else behind. Elijah knows that the end of his earthly life is coming. That expectation is reflected in the very first lines of Mullins’ song; ‘The Jordan
The main theme of the song is that Mullins wants to be like Elijah when he faces the end of his own life – looking forward with expectancy not back with regret. This is how he puts it;
‘When I go I want to go out like Elijah
With a whirlwind to fuel my chariot of fire
And when I look back on the stars
It’ll be like candlelight on Central Park
And it won’t break my heart to say good-bye.’
The New Testament fills out the hope that we have beyond this life. We have the promise of a new, resurrection body. We have the hope of being reunited with others who have gone before us. We have the certainty that all sin and sorrow will be banished as God himself wipes away every tear from every eye. We have the expectation of a true homecoming when God welcomes us into full and free fellowship with him.
Perhaps, 900 years before Jesus’ resurrection, Elijah already had an inkling of what to expect. There is a real sense in 2 Kings that he is eager to get to the next stage. Does that reflect our feelings? Are we eagerly anticipating what God will do for us in heaven? Or are we so attached to the things that we have here that we still, even after the resurrection, allow the fear of death to paralyse us?
On 19 September 1997 Rich Mullins was killed in a car crash. Like Elijah, he left this world suddenly. Like Elijah, he was ready to go. While many people understandably mourned the loss to this world of such a great song writing talent. Mullins rejoiced as he came home.
May the same be true of us when our time comes.
Monday, 17 September 2012
Where is hope?
It seems a very long time since Friday night when I came into the house after picking my eldest son up from Boys' Brigade to see the Ulster Rugby team finish off a tight, tense victory over inter- provincial rivals, Munster. Since that night, when the joy of playing and following sport was so evident from the crowds at Ravenhill Rugby ground, a deep sadness has enveloped the sporting community, the farming community and one tragically bereaved family in County Down.
There have already been many tributes paid to Noel, Graham and Nevin Spence. There has also been a genuine outpouring of sympathy from all quarters to a mother, two daughters and a daughter-in-law with two small children who are enduring unimaginable suffering, and doing so with real dignity and faith.
I have rarely seen such a widespread impact from one family tragedy. It brought home to me what I have been learning in my five and a half years as a pastor in a semi-rural congregation - that the ties which bind the farming community in Ulster are deep ones. Perhaps they are so deep because they recognise that these tragedies are not as uncommon as we would like them to be. We, who do not live off the land, sometimes fail to appreciate the risks that some people take simply to provide food for our tables. On Sunday morning as some of the farmers in my congregation left church, it was all I could do to hold myself back from saying 'would you people PLEASE take care of yourselves'. I suspect that I didn't really need to anyway.
But the other thing that has struck me forcibly in the light of this tragedy is the immense depth and wonder of genuine faith in Jesus Christ. The media will scratch their heads as members of the Spence family and friends from their own congregation and others express their certainty that, for these three men, true life has really just begun. Unable to deal with this powerful hope the media will, instead, ignore it and focus back on the appalling tragedy that has occurred. They will talk about how the family will need support from their neighbours, friends and fellow Christians (and there is no doubt that they will). But they will shy away from talking about how the source of all their comfort will be found in Jesus Christ. They will not talk about his death and resurrection which, while they do not give an answer as to why this accident happened on Saturday afternoon, do give this family the strength to face the future certain that their loved ones are enjoying that fullness of life in which they will one day join them.
The grief is real. The heartbreak is real. The outpouring of sympathy from across this community and from further afield is undeniably genuine. But none of it is more real, more certain than the love which is ours in Jesus Christ, from which no-one and nothing can separate us.
I realise that I am adding to the sea of words already spoken and written this weekend about the Spence family and their awful grief. I hope that what I have written is seen as someone who has watched the events unfold trying for himself to come to terms with something so dreadful. I know that other tragedies have made the headlines this weekend - a man dying of stab wounds in Craigavon, two British servicemen killed in Afghanistan, apparently innocent civilians killed in a NATO airtstrike as well as the continuing mayhem and murder in Syria. My mind and heart are unable to process so much suffering but on this weekend, I have not been able to stop thinking about this family whom I do not know, for whom everything has changed in the blink of an eye.
May the God of all comfort and the God of resurrection hope be to them all and more than all that they need.
There have already been many tributes paid to Noel, Graham and Nevin Spence. There has also been a genuine outpouring of sympathy from all quarters to a mother, two daughters and a daughter-in-law with two small children who are enduring unimaginable suffering, and doing so with real dignity and faith.
I have rarely seen such a widespread impact from one family tragedy. It brought home to me what I have been learning in my five and a half years as a pastor in a semi-rural congregation - that the ties which bind the farming community in Ulster are deep ones. Perhaps they are so deep because they recognise that these tragedies are not as uncommon as we would like them to be. We, who do not live off the land, sometimes fail to appreciate the risks that some people take simply to provide food for our tables. On Sunday morning as some of the farmers in my congregation left church, it was all I could do to hold myself back from saying 'would you people PLEASE take care of yourselves'. I suspect that I didn't really need to anyway.
But the other thing that has struck me forcibly in the light of this tragedy is the immense depth and wonder of genuine faith in Jesus Christ. The media will scratch their heads as members of the Spence family and friends from their own congregation and others express their certainty that, for these three men, true life has really just begun. Unable to deal with this powerful hope the media will, instead, ignore it and focus back on the appalling tragedy that has occurred. They will talk about how the family will need support from their neighbours, friends and fellow Christians (and there is no doubt that they will). But they will shy away from talking about how the source of all their comfort will be found in Jesus Christ. They will not talk about his death and resurrection which, while they do not give an answer as to why this accident happened on Saturday afternoon, do give this family the strength to face the future certain that their loved ones are enjoying that fullness of life in which they will one day join them.
The grief is real. The heartbreak is real. The outpouring of sympathy from across this community and from further afield is undeniably genuine. But none of it is more real, more certain than the love which is ours in Jesus Christ, from which no-one and nothing can separate us.
I realise that I am adding to the sea of words already spoken and written this weekend about the Spence family and their awful grief. I hope that what I have written is seen as someone who has watched the events unfold trying for himself to come to terms with something so dreadful. I know that other tragedies have made the headlines this weekend - a man dying of stab wounds in Craigavon, two British servicemen killed in Afghanistan, apparently innocent civilians killed in a NATO airtstrike as well as the continuing mayhem and murder in Syria. My mind and heart are unable to process so much suffering but on this weekend, I have not been able to stop thinking about this family whom I do not know, for whom everything has changed in the blink of an eye.
May the God of all comfort and the God of resurrection hope be to them all and more than all that they need.
Tuesday, 5 June 2012
Jubilee
So we have had our days of Diamond Jubilee celebration. It has been ludicrously expensive, faintly cheesy at times (especially if you were watching some of the BBC coverage) and probably incomprehensible to most people from outside the commonwealth, but it has revealed something about the British and the institution at the centre of British life.
I am not an ardent royalist and I don't go along with the idea that these few days alone make it great to be British. But when I see the levels of genuine devotion displayed this weekend it does make me think that there are a lot worse things that a nation could unite around than a hereditary constitutional monarchy. Did we need a thousand boat Thames River pageant? Probably not. Could we have done without Sir Cliff, Sir Elton and Sir Paul straining their ageing vocal chords (and our ears)? Yes we undoubtedly could. But would this nation be better off as a republic? On balance I think, probably not.
If the small group of royals who appeared on the balcony to wave to the crowds at the end of the celebration represent the future scale of monarchy without all the other hangers on then it demonstrates that this institution is adapting to its future, less extravagant role and doing so at a time when every other institution in national life is suffering from chronic distrust and decline. Somehow an incredibly privileged family have demonstrated an ability to truly connect with ordinary people and win their support without changing their essential character.
Is there a lesson here for the church, I wonder? We may not, indeed we must not change our essential message because it is a message which is and will always be necessary and relevant but we must find ways to live and breathe and share that message in our communities. We must dispense with the hangers on of unnecessary tradition, enlightenment rationalism and postmodern attempts at relevance and reconnect the gospel message with real people. We need to be 'good news' in our communities and share good news with those around us. We have it to share. The irony is that we have had a tendency in church to keep what makes us irrelevant and discard the necessary gospel truth in the dogged pursuit of relevance.
The Queen's sixty years have shown us what kind of impact single minded devotion to the service of a cause can have. Christians are called to single minded devotion to the service of Jesus Christ. He was single minded in his devotion to serve God and achieve our salvation. He deserves no less than our whole lives in glad service to him.
I still have problems with enforced flag waving. The first verse of 'I vow to thee my country' is nothing short of an invitation to idolatry. Just having a royal servant like Elizabeth II does not mean that being British is any better than being French or Chinese or Peruvian. But there are worse things to bring about a national celebration than an avowedly Christian woman who has served her God and her country with loyalty and, at times, courage for sixty years.
I only have three pleas for the next such royal occasion. Try to make it slightly less expensive, leave the boats out of it and please, please, please let Sir Cliff, Sir Elton and Sir Paul fade away into retirement.
I am not an ardent royalist and I don't go along with the idea that these few days alone make it great to be British. But when I see the levels of genuine devotion displayed this weekend it does make me think that there are a lot worse things that a nation could unite around than a hereditary constitutional monarchy. Did we need a thousand boat Thames River pageant? Probably not. Could we have done without Sir Cliff, Sir Elton and Sir Paul straining their ageing vocal chords (and our ears)? Yes we undoubtedly could. But would this nation be better off as a republic? On balance I think, probably not.
If the small group of royals who appeared on the balcony to wave to the crowds at the end of the celebration represent the future scale of monarchy without all the other hangers on then it demonstrates that this institution is adapting to its future, less extravagant role and doing so at a time when every other institution in national life is suffering from chronic distrust and decline. Somehow an incredibly privileged family have demonstrated an ability to truly connect with ordinary people and win their support without changing their essential character.
Is there a lesson here for the church, I wonder? We may not, indeed we must not change our essential message because it is a message which is and will always be necessary and relevant but we must find ways to live and breathe and share that message in our communities. We must dispense with the hangers on of unnecessary tradition, enlightenment rationalism and postmodern attempts at relevance and reconnect the gospel message with real people. We need to be 'good news' in our communities and share good news with those around us. We have it to share. The irony is that we have had a tendency in church to keep what makes us irrelevant and discard the necessary gospel truth in the dogged pursuit of relevance.
The Queen's sixty years have shown us what kind of impact single minded devotion to the service of a cause can have. Christians are called to single minded devotion to the service of Jesus Christ. He was single minded in his devotion to serve God and achieve our salvation. He deserves no less than our whole lives in glad service to him.
I still have problems with enforced flag waving. The first verse of 'I vow to thee my country' is nothing short of an invitation to idolatry. Just having a royal servant like Elizabeth II does not mean that being British is any better than being French or Chinese or Peruvian. But there are worse things to bring about a national celebration than an avowedly Christian woman who has served her God and her country with loyalty and, at times, courage for sixty years.
I only have three pleas for the next such royal occasion. Try to make it slightly less expensive, leave the boats out of it and please, please, please let Sir Cliff, Sir Elton and Sir Paul fade away into retirement.
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