A Real blog in the New Year, on friendly accostings and big dreams

Now, this blogging malarky isn't as easy as it looks. I just want you to think about it for a moment: I mean, there are millions of blogs out there saying millions of different things, some interesting, some provocative, and some inanely dull, I'm sure. I have this space available to me to say something that means something to me. To say something that I think might mean something to you [yep, you]. To say something that has the potential to change the world! (Ok, well maybe that last point is a little far-fetched, but you can see where I'm going here).
And with this opportunity comes a great responsibility to not say something rubbish, and to not be ridiculously boring, so when I'm being rubbish and ridiculously boring I tend to refrain from writing for fear of disappointing you - yet TWICE in the last two weeks I've been accosted by friends of mine (yes, friends!) with complaints that I don't blog enough! Can you believe they're trying to rush genius?! On the first occasion we run into our neighbour at a pet shop (yes, this is a commonplace occurrence in my life. Instead of running into each other at our adjoining garden paths we run into each other at a pet shop 10 minute's drive away. That's much more usual, clearly.) and she lulls me into a false sense of amiability by showing me the adorable pet hedgehogs available in the shop, before reprimanding me for not providing her with enough blog entertainment. The second event occurs after church, where my pastor (shall we call you that? Leader? Person most-likely to be in charge?) flings the car door open and, again, starts that terribly british practise of hedging something hard-hitting with something nice and pleasing to the character. 'Em!' he exclaims, putting an arm round my shoulder, 'we could have prayed for you before you left!' (it being the last Sunday before I head back to Oxford). Indeed, but none of us had thought of that, so nevermind, that's ok...then as he walks away and shuts my door he slips in something to the effect of 'But you'd better blog more this term.'

Honestly.
rushing genius.

Now, I do joke, I claim no such 'genius' in these blogs, because I clearly have no such thing. Actually, I found it quite the compliment that there were some people who geniunely wanted to read something new I had to say, so actually this beginning is more to say thank you, and that I appreciate that you want me to carry on. So you get your very own faux-disgruntled blog entry.

Actually, what I wanted to talk about was something that I had a couple of conversations (but not 'conservation', as my fingers so readily type these days) about this last term, and was reminded of in a conversation with lovely friends I had round for dinner this weekend. It started when a guy called Che Ahn came to visit our church in Oxford, who is a speaker from California [http://www.harvestrockchurch.org/]. Now, he did a whole weekend conference, of which I could only attend the classic Sunday morning slot, but a good friend of mine went to the Saturday events which had some messages aimed largely at the students; she told me a lot about it, obviously telling me about the things that were important to her. What stood out to me of this was how much he focussed on not forcing the youth of the church to go into ministry, necessarily, but that Christians could be at the top of their fields in the world too, being a light at these points. Now, I don't want you to think that if I thought God was calling me into ministry that I wouldn't do it, because totally, if He said that was right then it's where I'd go. But I'd been thinking a lot about how as a young person, who's at the point where you're making decisions about what you're going to do with your life, in the CHURCH, it's very easy to feel like the most interest from the church is going to go into the people who decide to go into ministry, because they are the holiest people who are actually doing God's work, right?

I realise that's quite a harsh thing to say, and almost certainly isn't true of what the churches really believe, but it's very easy to misconstrue that, and easy to feel it. In some ways, I almost felt that perhaps to truly be living my life to the scriptures I needed to give up the things I thought were my comfort zone, step out of that, and dedicate my life to telling people the wonderful news about Jesus. Sounds classic Christian, doesn't it? Genuinely, it was riling me. Was it a waste to be dedicating my life to academia when there was so much more of God's work to be done - reaching nations that haven't even HEARD about Jesus, reaching out to people on the streets, or to people who need Jesus' love the most in the world? Africa? South America? Eastern Asia? It's the good Christians that are doing that, right, the proper ones?

Of course not. And to be honest I'm quite embarrassed in myself for even have let indignace get in the way of what I knew of the church and scripture. I think when science is so often publicly put at odds with 'religion' and the church, I find I sometimes have to justify my involvement in it , especially against concepts like ministry and mission which sit so neatly within it. However, part of what Che Ahn talked about was Reclaiming the Seven Mountains of Society [capitalised for you there to highlight that it's a concept I didn't think up - ], which is the idea that in society there are seven areas that dominate: business, government, media, arts and entertainment, education, the family and religion, and that there should be Christian representitives in each of these, making decisions in their running and being people of authority and influence. I guess this has the potential to sound a little high-handed; that Christians should teach people about God by taking over the country [insert evil laugh], but I saw it more as an encouragement in my plight.

Actually, the point is less national or global domination by Christians (though that is an amusing notion), and more that there is definitely place for Christians to be people in the world. People in the far reaches of the world need to hear about God and experience his power, true, but so do people here. Workplaces across the country are full of people who know nothing of it, and have never experienced Jesus' love. What better place to be representing Jesus than in a workplace dominated by atheism and scientific rigour, doing something that I love and try to use as an act of worship?

The passage in 1Corinithians 12 really shed some light on some of what I'd been thinking about: [from the Message translation]
14-18I want you to think about how all this makes you more significant, not less. A body isn't just a single part blown up into something huge. It's all the different-but-similar parts arranged and functioning together. If Foot said, "I'm not elegant like Hand, embellished with rings; I guess I don't belong to this body," would that make it so? If Ear said, "I'm not beautiful like Eye, limpid and expressive; I don't deserve a place on the head," would you want to remove it from the body? If the body was all eye, how could it hear? If all ear, how could it smell? As it is, we see that God has carefully placed each part of the body right where he wanted it.

19-24But I also want you to think about how this keeps your significance from getting blown up into self-importance. For no matter how significant you are, it is only because of what you are a part of. An enormous eye or a gigantic hand wouldn't be a body, but a monster. What we have is one body with many parts, each its proper size and in its proper place. No part is important on its own. Can you imagine Eye telling Hand, "Get lost; I don't need you"? Or, Head telling Foot, "You're fired; your job has been phased out"? As a matter of fact, in practice it works the other way—the "lower" the part, the more basic, and therefore necessary. You can live without an eye, for instance, but not without a stomach. When it's a part of your own body you are concerned with, it makes no difference whether the part is visible or clothed, higher or lower. You give it dignity and honor just as it is, without comparisons. If anything, you have more concern for the lower parts than the higher. If you had to choose, wouldn't you prefer good digestion to full-bodied hair?

25-26The way God designed our bodies is a model for understanding our lives together as a church: every part dependent on every other part, the parts we mention and the parts we don't, the parts we see and the parts we don't. If one part hurts, every other part is involved in the hurt, and in the healing. If one part flourishes, every other part enters into the exuberance.

27-31You are Christ's body—that's who you are! You must never forget this. Only as you accept your part of that body does your "part" mean anything. You're familiar with some of the parts that God has formed in his church, which is his "body":

apostles
prophets
teachers
miracle workers
healers
helpers
organizers
those who pray in tongues.
But it's obvious by now, isn't it, that Christ's church is a complete Body and not a gigantic, unidimensional Part? It's not all Apostle, not all Prophet, not all Miracle Worker, not all Healer, not all Prayer in Tongues, not all Interpreter of Tongues. And yet some of you keep competing for so-called "important" parts.

Sorry that's such a long passage to get through, but it really put it all into context for me. The church is a body made up of many parts, and we are all people with different giftings and abilities. Considering my role in the church generally, I know that I can play in a worhsip band, or look after a kids work group, or be someone who encourages others; but I know that I'll probably never be a worship leader, a teacher or somebody in ministry. In my life I know that I'll probably do something scientific or education based, and probably won't end up working for a church (although who knows, it could change?). But I think my thinking here is that I've realised that my contributions to the church are entirely worthy regardless of what level of hierarchy they may appear to be, and if we were all striving to be the same in the church it wouldn't function as a whole.

In an ecosystem, there may be species that appear to be the most important - the ones that everyone sees, or that seem to provide the most resources, etc. But when you consider ALL of the species involved in a single ecosystem, the trees, bushes, grasses, insects, birds, mammals, fungi, bacteria...they're all vital parts of the balance of the ecosystem, and with the removal of one comes the imbalance of the others. It doesn't make those seemingly important species any LESS important, but other species play equally significant roles. An ecosystem relies on all of its parts to function as a whole.

So, in other news?
We're back in Oxford now, with imminent collections (college exams) rearing their ugly heads to be followed by the uncertain few days where no tutorials have been planned and you waltz home from lectures unburdened by text books or an essay question that needs deciphering. Bitter-sweet? Bitter then sweet?
Perhaps 'standard' is more descriptive.

This term also sees the beginning of a peer-support course that I'm doing - I'm hoping that'll bring up some interesting things to think about, and I'm looking forward to being trained to be a better listener.

Anyways, I do perhaps think that's all I have to say for today...except that I've managed to lose the ability to embed phtos into my blog - if anyone knows how then do let me know, as I'm sure there are interesting snaps I could treat you with!