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!

A neighbourly Valentine's Day

WHEW! It has been a long while! Frankly I haven't had much to say (believe it or not), at least not publicly so rather than bore you with my tiresome drawl I've kept things quiet. I've got a fantastic story to share now though!

As you may know, yesterday was the loathed/loved celebration of Valentine's Day. I'm not overly keen on it myself but I married a romantic guy who likes it, so I do oblige. Having felt a bit detached from, well, pretty much everything non-work-related recently, I've really been missing doing little community things but I don't really have the time to plan much or even get inspired to start with. Yet on Saturday in a huff of extreme life boredom, I had an epiphany: I would spend Sunday baking cookies for our neighbours in our block of flats. We've got a table in the foyer commonly used to flog off unwanted items, so the scene was perfectly do-able.

Rob, Jo and I spent a few hours baking some amazing vegan chocolate chip cookies (trying not to eat all the dough or batches as they came out of the oven), made up a sign to hang over the table that said 'You are special, love from Flat 9', and a card that read 'Happy Valentines Day. You're loved more than you'll ever know so enjoy a yummie vegan cookie!' We packed the cookies up ready to serve and hatched a plan to put them out in the centre of the entry before many people left for work on Valentine's morning.

After putting the cookies out (which were even yummier on Monday), I noticed that one or two had disappeared before I left for work. Then I got a text from Jo saying that she heard shrieks of excitement and 'HOW SWEET' coming from the corridor, which she had to wait to subside before she could herself leave for fear of being accosted. That night we returned to two plates containing only a few crumbs.

We collected our plates and took down the sign with big smiles that we'd shown some people the love that's typically mass-marketed on that day of the year. Then I picked up our card and saw some writing inside: 'You are amazing. I love you and don't even know you. xxx'

Awesome.

Today I walked up to our main entry door and saw a shoulder of someone who quickly disappeared near the table in the foyer. I rounded the corner to find a card that said how special our small actions were. I found another in our post box from someone we originally thought didn't particularly like us.

This is love. Maybe not deep life changing love, but then... who knows... maybe it's a start.

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.

July (flew by!)

Only after returning home in early August did I realise that I spent half of July away from home. Half of the away time was spent at Buddhafield Festival with the SPEAK Network. We brought our yurt to share our campaigns and to get to know people there. It was a really cool festival with great people and interesting conversations. Really chilled and enjoyable.


The following week I went with Rob to Freakstock Festival in Germany where he participated in a service, doing some storytelling on the theme of pilgrimage. He told the story of Tom Joad through the eyes of Woody Gutherie who wrote a folk song about Tom's journey during the dust bowl. It was great seeing Rob on that stage in front of so many people and speaking with such confidence. The festival was a great time to see old friends and make some new friends too.


We spent the following three days in Berlin, site-seeing and shopping in the alternative district of Kruezberg. It's good to be back in London now though, I must say! Enjoy some photos from our trip!

Friday Service @ Freakstock	Friday Service Crowd	Rob storytelling
Storytelling about The Joad Family and Pilgrimage	Impromptu gig  by band Praiser	"Peace Out"- Jesus Christ
Holocaust Memorial, Berlin	Brandenburg Gate	Checkpoint Charlie
Near the River Spree	East Side Gallery	So true.
Alexanderplatz	Part of the old wall	Photo Opp