Jesus wants to save gophers.

Recently I've found inspiration from the strangest of places. My only brush with these creatures in real life has been in the dreaded appearance of mounds of dirt in my parent's garden while I was growing up. Caddyshack famously expressed most people's loathing for these little furry beasts when the character Carl Spackler said, "In the immortal words of Jean Paul Sartre, 'Au revoir, gopher'" as he attempted to dynamite the earth burrower's hole. Yet while on holiday at my in-laws' house I found myself strangely identifying with gophers- those of Mt. St. Helen's to be specific.

While watching PBS a NOVA programme came on called 'Mt. St. Helens: Back from the dead'. Being a bit of an ecology nerd (apologies to my fellow geek friends) I was consumed by the telling of the explosion that happened in 1980 resulting in death, destruction, and sweeping panoramas of ash and black. Scientists told how they wondered if anything survived and how on earth anything would ever make a comeback to such a desolate location. As the ground continued to shift and rumble while the volcano remained active for some time, brave scientists began walking and flying around in search of signs of life. Months and months in to this search with absolutely no hopeful glimmers, a man in a helicopter spotted something different- a fresh mound of earth. As the pilot landed and the researcher walked towards the soil which stood in stark contrast to the dense blanket of ash, fresh revelation hit: some little critters that had lived below the surface of the earth- pesky varments though they were- had survived the eruption and their lives continued on, though with fewer fresh roots to chew on. 

A gopher mafia family

These underground inhabitants kept on doing what they do- digging. Not because they were trying to be at all helpful but because, well, what else were they going to do? As they dug and carried on, fresh piles of soil appeared on the surface, mixing in nutrients and spores to an otherwise inhospitable landscape. As a result of their survival, life began gradually to return to the blast zone with plants growing, amphibians and mammals returning and birds having a place to nest and bring in fresh seeds. All thanks to a pest.

As I sat watching these gophers and life return to Mt. St. Helen's, I felt a sort of pathetic kinship (don't worry, I'm not going to say I cried). Having moved from a place of doing 'alternative ministry' where things are dressed up a little bit differently and feeling 'edgy' but the gist is still the same, and now moving to a place of truly 'underground ministry', going to subcultures that the church has rejected outright, I resonate a bit with the gopher. 

Firstly and most critically, I see that as we dig our way underground, we are able to draw up fresh nutrients to feed the church itself. Most truths and movements that have changed culture (and the church) have not come from the 'top down' or a place of influence and prominence (humanly speaking) but from the depths- the culturally radical and dissident. As Leonard Sweet says in Nudge, 'The centers of power and wealth are a long way from the margins of our society, where the most creative stirrings of the Spirit are born and bring new life into the whole. It is hard to score semiotic (ed- the art of reading the signs) hits from the centres of establishment power.' These underground folk are causing a stir, and one that Jesus can often be seen at the heart of- if you're perceptive enough and willing to point him out. It's exciting to work within these deep underground cultures and see Kingdom truths in operation that mainstream society and church culture has neglected or compromised on- ideas of community, equality, advocacy and solidarity with the poor, shunning materialism, and so on (whatever ideas you've conjured up right now about how your church might live these out, you likely don't go as far as these underground scenes). We've set out to Nudge these people into recognising the Jesus values they are operating under, and also to bring these revelations to the church itself. 

I believe that we have so much to dig up from these underground cultures to fertilise the imaginations and intensify the richness of the life we as Christ followers can live here on earth. Church-folk so often find their heads in the clouds, looking for Christ elsewhere, yet we must start recognising the creatures under our feet that are enriching our every day lives, whether we know it or not, and see where we can sight Christ in their very existence. To be honest, I find my gopher-y self learning a lot from the underground scene- not at the sake of compromising my understanding of all things Christ, but in finding out that Jesus is a whole lot more omni-present than I dreamt and far, far ahead of the dawdling church- myself included. Now, THAT is good news!

Cloudless Days with No Sunshine

Walking to work this morning, the sky was a great s t r e t c h of cloudless blue.

Yet the sidewalk below was a drab gray, dark and cold. 

I knew that there must be some light out there ..........................

..................... but it just hadn't fallen across my path. 

On I walked and as the buildings rose HIGHER, the path grew darker, yet I could see the warm glow far overhead on the sides of the glass and concrete and metal far above. 

I came to enjoy the game of searching for (pockets of light) in the darkness, reflections of the sun that was surely out there                                                                       somewhere.


Through crevices between houses, along the backside of gardens overgrown with weeds and thorns, dancing in the windows. Eventually I caught glimpses as the buildings   spaced     out yet still it ducked and dived from my sight.


As I approached the open square, the intensity around me began to increase and build.


Finally, as I broke through my surroundings, there it stood as it had all along.
It hadn't changed.


Only my own position had.

.....................................................................................................

I wrote this piece not as a way of 'preaching it' to my atheist or 'unbelieving' friends but as, well, a good kick in the bum for my 'believing' or 'orthodox' friends- or more specifically to those who are pretty certain they know what truth is and can recognise what it isn't. 


I use to make such claims and probably still am enlightened arrogant enough to do so now on occasion (well, don't we all?). I recall a conversation I had recently with someone who reminded me of the good old (?) Christian proverb (not the kind in the bible... the kind that someone made up and it's followed us around doggedly for aeons) that just a bit of untruth makes the whole thing a lie. I think most people put it a bit more whimsically than that but the exact phrase now escapes me, but you get the gist. I use to wield that one around myself but as it was reiterated to me I thought, now wait, that's not exactly right. 


I'm in a place in life now where I believe that God does dwell, as the psalmist claims, everywhere, in everything- even in the worst of places, Sheol (death). Yes there's a load of rubbish in this life but there are gems buried in deep within the dust and debris. I believe that were we to demonstrate to people where God was already at work in the world and in their own lives, more people would want to know him. 


As we journey though the urban landscape of our lives, the light may not be blinding us. It may be that we seldom, if ever see the sun. But often times we perceive it in its reflection in the glass and we wouldn't recognise the shape of shadows if it was absent. People may be closer to the light than we give them, or Christ, credit for. 


Look for the glimmers of light and help others recognise them. It can be a fun game.

"G-d"

I've been listening to the new mewithoutyou album, 'It's all Crazy! It's all False! It's all a Dream! It's Alright!' and I love the last track 'Allah Allah Allah' but I can see why it might leave some followers of Christ unsettled. In fact, the band themselves are followers of Jesus but they've chosen to use a name of G-d that most Christians are uncomfortable with for fear of praying to the 'wrong God'. But the fact is that Arabaic Christians use the name 'Allah' for the 'Christian God' with no hesitation because Allah is simply their vernacular for God. Perhaps Christians should first consider our usage of the word GOD as it's offensive to the Jewish believer in that you're not even meant to say it- it's such a holy name. Perhaps we should take the splinter from our own eye before casting judgement on those who use the word Allah in the Christian context? What do you think?

Facebooking God

At the start of the year I made a resolution. I'm not big on new year's resolutions because I kind of see them as fake starts- like bad reasons to make new goals based on the calendar rather than on a true desire for a timely change. Plants don't grow at a rate determined by what date it is- they change because of factors like sunlight, temperature, moisture and nutrients. And global climate change has shown us how plants' growth changes as a result of these factors rather than what particular moment in time is may be.

Back to my resolution: Early this year I decided that I would work on my relationships and communication. With so many friends and family members abroad, it takes a great deal of effort to stay in touch. I've been very grateful for tools like Facebook and Myspace to facilitate staying in touch. It's provided me with reminders that their lives go on and change right alongside my own and I can see some of what goes on in their days. I came to realise however that what was developing was an interactive show that I was viewing as an outsider. Like watching Big Brother I could see their actions and feel some of what they felt. I could voice my opinion and encourage or taunt them. But what's happened is that we haven't seen our friendships grown or strenthened. They've stayed the same or in some cases it's allowed us to keep contact very minimal.

One particular relationship in my life that thankfully has not been relegated to the form of a 15" screen came to mind recently and I realised that it's actually very similar in nature to those that have been. I suddenly have become aware of how the other individual is tired of a life of status updates, comments, 'likes' and only the occassional private message. And as a result of the way I often choose to relate to this person, our relationship has become increasingly shallow and I wonder how well we're really acquainted.

I, like many Christians, find myself 'commenting' God, posting brief messages on his wall just to let him know I'm thinking of him, or just 'liking' something he's done or said. I've fallen in a terrible discipline of not investing my time, energy or presence in our relationship. What would become of a marriage lived that way or of children brought up that way? Not only would the people not grow but their relationships would suffer.

I know so many followers of Christ who when asked how their prayer lives are or what that even looks like for them, they'll confidently say they spend time with God throughout the day, thanking him or saying brief prayers. While doing that is enormously important to our relationships with him, it simply cannot amount to that alone. Just as you cannot expect to know someone deeply via texting with only the occassional coffee meetup, you cannot begin to know the Endless One this way.

So how many of us are living the lie of belief ('I believe in God', 'I believe I know him') and not building a relationship with him ('I know him intimately more and more')?

Many of us shudder at the mention of the word I'm about to use because of the connotation it's taken on and the way it's been used as a weapon against people's consciences rather than as an agent of healing. But it remains a word- or rather a necessary action for the follower of Christ (notice I say follower, not believer). Repentence.

Repent, for God's kingdom is close! Change your mind- change your allegience- change your relationship with Him!

I reckon that if the Queen or the President were on Facebook a LOT of people would be in their 'friends' lists. A lot of people would leave comments. But a very tiny minority would walk with and know them deeply.

So where does our personal and communal relationship with God fall? How often do we 'see' him? Are we afraid of meeting up and investing time and our lives into this relationship? What keeps us from doing so?

The comforting thing is this: God is so gracious. He's not condemning or rejecting us based on what rubbish followers we may be (nor is he accepting and loving us more if we're great followers). Just like one of those friendships where you feel as if you were never apart after years of having not seen one another- you pick up where you left off- God remains waiting for us. He doesn't want us to visit him and spend our time apologising and grovelling or to allow us to feel so bad that our relationship is forever damaged. He just wants to move on.

So will you spend quality time with him today? Listening to him. Loving him deeply. Weeping or laughing hysterically.

He's waiting eagerly.

The Wanderer.

I went to knitting/craft group tonight with the intentions of picking up my needles again after taking a break over Christmas and getting frustrated with it last week. I did pick up the needles, managed to recall casting on, knitted a few stitches and promptly got bored with it. I think I spent more time actually organising the yarn than I did knitting. I'm still struggling with the difference between knitting and purling and I keep sticking my needles through the yarn rather than underneath it.

I found myself on the way home feeling a bit down, envying Anna for her cross-stitching which was becoming a pretty poppy with leaves. I had about four stitches poorly done sitting on the needles. Or did I undo even that? My thoughts carried me away into a familiar introspective examination on my life and my habits.

When I was a child I wanted to be a writer. I wrote a book under the pen name Charlotte. I can't remember what it was about but I'm sure it was pretty fantastic. I think I wrote a few books in the day. Then I went to school and was in a small class with a bunch of boys and I wanted to be a cop just like them. That didn't last long. Then I found myself in high school wanting to own a vintage clothing store. Somewhere mid-year I decided that I'd go back to writing, only not creative writing and be a journalist. That went out the window when I cursed out my editor and walked out on the school paper because she postponed my body piercing piece (groundbreaking stuff in '93). All this time I was heavily involved, if only personally, in campaigns issues, mostly those surrounding animal rights and my own rights which I felt had been infringed upon by the popular and glorified in our school. I've jumped in and out of justice matters from there, which eventually led to my passion for marine biology and the environment (that aided by my former disliking of people and preference for fish).

I thrived at marine biology. I truly for the first time in life, felt like I stood head and shoulders above the rest. I was recognised for my natural giftings and spongy retention of learning the topics. I enjoyed fighting for the rights of fish, marine mammals, and plankton everywhere (especially if it was tropical and I could live in a hut!). I planned on pushing through to a PhD so that I could have my own research and conservation team. I told my advisor this and he laughed at me and said that it was a waste of time (he had himself attained to a post-hole-digger status but I believe he thought it too high for women to seek after the same). Six years into studying the subject, working my ass off, having a job pretty much guaranteed to be created for me, I burned out. I loved the creative side of biology, loved seeing the evidence and glory of the Creator behind it all, but the science didn't do it for me. And the political, beaurocratic BS of it really turned me off (that same advisor soon saw that I was quite capable of a PhD and when I started volunteering in his lab and field work he changed his tune, making me want to vomit on him).

Then I went into ministry. That's definitely had it's ups and downs. The one thing I know with absolute certainty in this life is that whatever I do is for the love of God and that love's expression here on earth. Most days I find myself finally loving people- most days- and wanting God's best for them. So that brings out the activist in me again. And much like the PhD seeker in me who wanted to have my own team, I like organising people and heading things up. I do like doing things, but as you can see from my track record, I get bored quickly and like to shuffle around a bit.

Thus my dilemma tonight. Do I have epic ADD? I would judge my inability to do one particular thing for longer than a few years without becoming unusually twitchy and unable to remain still and focused as something not normal. The reason I judge it so is because the world around me, our culture, defines me by what I do. When people ask, 'what do you do?' they aren't asking for a description of what you find youself doing 8 hours a day, 40 hours a week. They are effectively asking 'who are you?' And because I can't give a definite term to what I do, I can't really seem to give a definite answer to who I am. At the core of me I know that I am creative, individual, experimental, rambling, organisational and most importantly, when all that fails and my mind goes loopy, I am a follower of Christ and I seek to live like He did loving God and others.

I was talking this all over with Rob tonight for the umpteenth time. He helped, as he usually does. He told me something very insightful. Some sports players have contracts to play pro football AND pro baseball. My mind, shaped by culture around me thinks, that's not possible! you've got to do ONE sport and ONE sport only! Apparently that's what some coaches advise the players of also. However, I thought about it and they're the ones drafting these guys to play their respective sport, so they must be good enough for both- better than most. I find that settling. *thanks babe*

So here I am. Jack of all trades, master of a few (or possessing the ability to master a few but the indifference to commit my life to it), bored with some, recreating others. Is indifference bad in this regard? Or is just that I'm designed with a functionality that prefers to invent, create, abandon, destroy, build, hand over, etc.? It always reminds me of the tattoo I carved into my ankle in high school (don't try this at home kiddos): The Wanderer (in Chinese... or so I thought... I probably ended up carving something more like The Chipmunk or just a symbol that ended up looking like a squashed spider). I still find my old way of wandering suits me. As long as I'm wandering in the right direction and making the world a better place, I'll take it.

Socialism to the rescue!!!!! *set to superhero theme music*

I was just passing through Sainsbury’s the other day (after realising that I’d forgotten my wallet… thankfully before doing any shopping) when I was accosted by a Socialist fellow. I don’t know what made me actually stop to talk to him, perhaps it was just a moment of weakness- not that I disagree with keeping conversation with socialists- just speaking to anyone carrying a bucket and asking for money really.

He quickly handed me a leaflet inviting me to join a young socialists march (which made me smile to think he thought me a youth) taking place, even though a subsequent review of the flyer proved they were using last year’s calendar for this year’s date setting (surely that’s not a socialist hallmark?). Not too interested in marching on behalf of their party, I did engage in some conversatio with the man. Well, I say engage in conversation- perhaps what I should say is that I stood there and listened to him for a good while.

Naturally, as any politically bent individual would do at this time in history, I was informed that nobody was safe- all jobs were at risk, nobody could count on tomorrow’s wages or institutions. The economic crisis effecting the globe would some day end up, decidedly sooner rather than later, knocking on my door and demanding my securities. In the back of my mind all the while I’m thinking that this bloke has no idea about the economic system I subscribe to. I guess the problem was that I was wearing a coat from Top Shop and therefore I was sniffed out as one of those capitalist scum (little did he know that my hoodie underneath heralded a hand-stitched socialist inspired patch proclaiming ‘Join the Revolution’, complete with raised fists and all.)

I digress however. Listening to this well-meaning man who was surely freezing his balls off, snot dripping down his upper lip, a wild look in his eyes as he preached about the saviour, socialism, I could no longer just stand and agree with him on the following points: The middle, working class must be cared for and given a fairer share of the power; Revolution is just around the corner. At that last point I decided I’d heard enough. I explained to the bucket holding man that I agreed with him about caring for the poor and middle classes (actually he didn’t mention the poor, only the middle class), and I certainly agree that revolution will shortly take place. However, I explained, the revolution I believe in and ascribe to begins with the hearts of people- not a political system.

Differing drasticaly in the methods of change, he believing it must start from some dudes on the sidewalk in front of Sainsbury’s to youths marching on behalf of socialist causes, to raising up socialist leaders who will give the power to the people. Personally I’m rather fond of grassroots movements and I’d beg to differ about the approach- I explained that the way I see it, the hearts of people are going to have to undergo revolutionary change that only comes through Christ. Jesus was the most revolutionary thinker of all time. And he did it in a very different way- not from a top-up approach as many would argue on behalf of political parties such as the socialists, democrats, conservatives- whoever really. Jesus argued that revolution comes from the lowest. He really didn’t seem overly concerned by the leaders of his world. He hardly batted an eye at them and he certainly didn’t call their way of doing things into question. What he did was address the lowest of the low. He called them to change, to radical subversive ways of thinking and acting- all motivated by love.

As soon as I mentioned ‘Jesus’ this guy’s nose went up a little bit into the air, as if he smelled more than just my capitalist-aiding coat. Seriously the conversation was over- well not really- he first had to get his bit in about religion and the church and American presidents. First, American presidents have weilded their faith in inappropriate ways. Second, the church is the cause of this whole mess to begin with- she’s apparently in some sort of romantic relations with our governing powers and their capitalist practices.

In the short amount of time that I had left before being abandoned, standing in front of St. Michael’s church in Camden Town, I explained to this fellow that what he must know of Church is all wrong. I told him that in no way is it fair to lump all churches together- he has not been to the church I go to for one. I explained to him that we do agree with some of the tenants of socialism- in terms of supporting the poor (although again, I’d say that he seemed bent only on the middle-class working man), and in terms of agreeing that revolution would happen. He had by this point however tuned out and was only interested in if I wanted a paper for 40p or not. Apologetically- since I indeed had no money in my pocket and furthermore seldom have enough money to buy a 40p paper- I declined.

I’d really be interested in hearing his thoughts when he returned to the table with his colleague. But truthfully, I felt unvalued, rejected because of my faith and my vision of revolution. He could have just as well shoved the bucket over my head and walked away. Is that what socialism is about? Thinking the same? Liberty to think? Or freedom from thought?