A House Blessing

A few days ago I led a service for The Blessing of a House for a couple of friends who have retired and moved to a new home.  Around fifty people gathered for the service (which was followed by great food in their back garden!)  I have never conducted such a thoughtfully prepared service for a house blessing, with service sheets for everyone to participate in readings and prayers.  In the past I have tended to lead a prayer or two in a new home rather informally.  But this was five star treatment that showed serious intent in this new beginning.   I loved some of the prayers, especially when everyone joined in asking God to bless different aspects of the house: the place of food, of books (oh yes!) of sleep, rooms of ease and comfort, room of guest ,concluding: 'Bless the Door to this house and be the Good Shepherd to all'.

One of the big challenges for our friends is the transition from very busy lives of full-time jobs into (semi-) retirement in their new home.  How difficult is that?  I guess some find it much easier to adjust than others.

During the service I made a few personal comments about our friends and God's promises for them.  And I also quoted from a section of Oswald Chambers' devotions that I had read the day before.  Chambers is reflecting on the Mount of Transfiguration and Peter's desire to build three tents on the mountain top for Jesus, Moses and Elijah.

The test of spiritual life is the power to descend; if we have the power to rise only, there is something wrong.  There must be power to descend.  The mountain is not the place for us to live for we were built for the valleys.  This is one of the hardest things to learn because we want repeated moments on the mount.

 Yes, it is hard to descend and particularly in the ageing process we have to learn this.  It is not that God will bless us any less!  Rather, we need to know that he will bless us in the valleys in less heady days. 

 

Gloucester 50 years on

On Sunday I was at Brunswick Baptist Church in Gloucester (in the west of England) where I was baptized as a teenager in 1959.  My father was minister there 1953-1961 and this turned out to be an extraordinarily consequential period of my growing up.  The church building that I knew so well has long gone, to be replaced by much more compact premises still in the heart of the city on Southgate. Going back to preach there (in its 200th. anniversary year) proved to be exhilarating.  Why?  Partly, because of the liveliness of the current church, its vibrant fellowship and obvious love.  It's wonderful to see yet another generation's continuing witness.  Partly, because of the quality of the leadership.  One of the key leaders, Graham, was in the youth group way back in my time and he, with his wife and family, have given a lifetime's love and devotion to the church ever since.

But there's another very personal reason.  A reunion was arranged for the Saturday evening when I met a friend who also had been in the youth group of whom I had not seen or heard for over 52  years.   Tony was (slightly) older than me in his teens.  He proved a powerful Christian friend who helped to galvanize my early zeal, taking gospel tracts (by the handful) out onto the streets, into the park, and on one notable occasion on a train where together we visited every compartment thrusting out good news.  I remember one tract had the current Prime Minister's quote on the front: 'We've never had it so good!' as it spelt out the danger of missing out God.  We preached in teams in local churches, helped the elderly by gardening, and engaged in lengthy prayer meetings for revival.  It was a red hot time.  I wondered what Tony would be like now.

I was thrilled to the core to see and hear him again, just as I remember.  Just as warm, full of God's spirit.  He told me how my father taught him New Testament Greek and to play the mandolin!  How he had become a Pentecostal pastor, spending his last years in mission work in Malaysia where he met his wife.  In retirement he has now come back to the Brunswick church with his family.  On Sunday he introduced me before I preached and I could not believe how like the old times it was.  Two friends with lives in parallel over five decades had suddenly found each other. 

He had a couple of black and white photos of our era.  One showed four young men: Tony, Derrick, Gordon and myself, studying a Bible together.  Three of us became pastors, all of us continued in faith.   Carol said to me: 'Wouldn't your Dad be pleased to see what has become of his young people?'   Well, in the communion of saints he will know!   It is no surprise that the weekend was exhilarating, is it? 

Beyond three points (2)

I am grateful for the last (generous) comment and share concerns that sermon structure is 'synergistic' with content as well as 'less is more'.  In dealing with 'three point sermons' I recognize we move into the arena of rhetoric with assumptions about informing and persuading hearers. Augustine is (rightly) credited with applying Cicero’s three rhetorical purposes (appealing to mind, heart and will) to the act of preaching. In the late nineteenth and early twentieth century the role of persuasion was paramount with sermons dominated by rhetorical structure (with John Broadus very influential in N. America). Three points became so common, Fred Craddock (the most eminent critic) says such sermons began to collapse under the weight of their own popularity. 

Craddock went on to claim that in the last part of the twentieth century this structure could not cope adequately with a changing church and world. Questions about the preacher’s authority and right to persuade; questions about the use of text – was it always right to squeeze all text into three points; and, for him, the most important question about the listeners. Did they not deserve the right to be more active participants? “Does the priesthood of believers not apply to preaching? After all the message belongs as much to them as to the preacher"(i).

Mentioning Craddock immediately gives a green light to moving into debate about three point propositional preaching – so-called 'old homiletic'- and narrative inductive preaching (new homiletic) that moves like a story. This debate has sometimes been hostile with expository preaching associated with the former. Sound, biblical expository preachers are assumed to be deductive drawing out truths clearly to inform and persuade.  Only old homiletic can be trusted!  I could stay specifically on this issue, which has occupied much recent homiletics literature. It does raise important questions about persuasion and authority in our preaching.   

However, the full conference theme runs: Beyond three points: Preaching at the Crossroads.  Indeed, conference organizers have asked participants to offer papers answering: 'Where is the challenge at boundaries and intersection of biblical text, contemporary life, faith, culture, worship, in a pluralist, egalitarian culture?'

Crossroads are sometimes marked by a signpost.  I have been thinking how to express wording on a signpost.  What different directions do you see facing the western church?   Perhaps there are more than two?  And how would you name them?  That's what I am wrestling with at the moment.  There are so many challenges in contemporary change how can we sum them up?  Perhaps we can't.

In the light of this much bigger crossroads issue dealing with whether a preacher uses three points or not seems to be a minor mechanical side-line.  Surely much more is at stake than how sermons are designed!  This is what I am working on. Any thoughts on the crossroads and names on the signpost are very welcome!

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[i] Craddock Fred in Martha Simmons ed., Preaching on the Brink  p 69.

Beyond three points (1)

One of my major projects ahead is a conference at Vose Seminary in Perth with the intriguing theme: Beyond Three Points: Preaching at the Crossroads.  Unsurprisingly, I  have spent some time reflecting on this theme.

At first sight it seems to open up the big debate about sermon design and delivery of content.  Three points is a particular classic sermon structure that identifies points as headings for an outline, which then often has sub-headings.  Sometimes dubbed '3 heads and 9 tails' or '3 points and a poem' it has much to be said in its favor.  It communicates clearly and sometimes memorably (depending on the points!)  Some cultures use it powerfully.  Cleo LaRue says that black preaching especially enjoys using it.  I have known some preachers employ three point structures all their lives almost without deviation, and to the benefit of their congregations too.  Recently, at a retirement service one of the dominant themes, heard from all three churches represented that this minister had served, was of his powerful three point preaching.  A little fun was made (!) but mostly there was very healthy respect for the clear, thoughtful preaching over 39 years.   3 points especially suits the teacher-preacher who opens up Scripture and applies it with clarity and repetition.

Beyond three points sounds like something of a slap on the wrists for such preachers as though their style of design and delivery needs to be replaced.  As though three point preaching should be left behind as less relevant.  Past its sell-by date, contemporary preachers now need fresh structures.  This, of course, is part of a massive discussion about the role of the so-called 'new homiletic' which regards three-point outline preaching as deductive linear left-brained teaching ('old homiletic') as compared with inductive preaching inviting hearers on a journey of discovery with narrative movement.

I could easily fill a few lectures examining this debate.  However, I fear it would be too domestic. Just talking homiletics to preachers.   In spite of much literature on preaching styles I don't see glorious revival in the western church, do you?   However, I think this theme opens up a much wider concern about where the church is going and preaching needs to go with it. 

I am working on it, as you will see. All comments are appreciated!

GACFIC

Following my last posting about the unhappiness of power struggles in local churches, I have had a (slightly provocative) suggestion that a group be formed of concerned people called Group Against Control-Freaks in Churches (or Gacfic).   I realize in other church structures the bishop or superintending minister may be given this responsibility and discharge their authority effectively.  But in Baptist church life the strength of gathered believers having mutual responsibility with a high degree of autonomy can also be a weakness.  Hence, GACFIC! 

In spite of the immediate appeal of a such a group trying to sort out power struggles, I see some immediate difficulties.  I am sure you do too!  Who would be its members?  How would they operate?  Would they publish case studies?   Speaking the truth in love not only requires spiritual resources of moral courage, discernment, patience, oodles of prayer and, of course, love.  It is best done in relationship for few of us are prepared to hear hard truth from 'outsiders' who we guess have probably already drawn their conclusions before entering the situation.  Indeed, at worst GACFIC might be considered the ultimate group of control freaks sorting out others' problems.   Possibly, the thought of being referred to a special meeting of GACFIC might make a control-freak think twice.  However, I have heard of situations where he or she is so dominant the small gathered community is terrified of upsetting him or her, and any advice from 'outside' has no chance of acceptance. No chance.

I guess we do not need to add another structure but to keep marveling that in the wheat and tares growth of the kingdom God keeps trusting us wherever we are to recognize the immense dangers of asserting self-control and, instead, to grow up more mature in Christ.  Spiritual renewal with openness to God's will and purpose, found in Scripture and discerned in corporate prayer remains the main hope for more mature togetherness!  

The worst job in the world?

I must round off my experience back at my first church.  We shared in a casserole lunch after the service – the church has always been top notch at providing hospitality – and over the meal I had several conversations, stirring joyful memories.  ‘You did our wedding’, said two.  ‘You baptized me,’ said another.   ‘You will know my Dad.  He often spoke about you,’  said a more recent member. 'You remember when my son was born, rushing over to congratulate me?  And I was in the middle of playing cricket!'  said another.  Yes, all kinds of memories in a rich community with roots going way back. 

 

 But then a couple asked me whether I knew another younger Baptist minister. They wondered if I had any recent information about him. 

'No', I said.  'Why, what’s happened'. 

 ‘Well, he’s a wonderful minister.  When he left theological college we were with him when he started in his first church.   He seemed to have outstanding gifts and were so thrilled for him and the church.   It looked as though he had really good ministry ahead.  Then we heard that he had a breakdown, and had to leave the church and is now is a very poor state.’ 

‘He had a breakdown?  What happened? ‘ 

'Well, it seems this particular couple in the church destroyed him. They just made his life so terrible he was completely broken down and have to leave.’  

 

In the last three months  or so I have heard of two other Baptist ministers who have suffered breakdowns and are currently out of ministry. Someone said to me, ’It’s getting more and more difficult to be a minister. It’s partly because churches are in decline with increasing tension and tragic power struggles.   Sometimes it seems that ministers themselves seem to be different from a previous generation'. 

 

This sadness opens up a big subject.  In my own genuine appreciation for church congregational life, I am not blind to destructive power lurking within certain local church cultures.   The very positives of a people openly seeking the mind of Christ together allows negative potential too.  And then, I fear, Baptist ministry might be the worst job in the world.

 

 

The best job in the world (2)

At the Blackburn church I was greeted by friends from my very beginnings in ministry. One lady reminded me of her gravely disabled child, a teenager able only to lie in a large pram. How, when her child died, she had first felt she needed a quiet family service, but the conviction had grown that we needed to come together to make a witness that God is love, and in this child her parents had amazingly experienced this even through the pain and the questions. It was one of those remarkable services that only believers can enter. With tears in her eyes she said: “I expect that was your first service like that”. Oh, yes! Someone else said; “This was the church where you did everything for the first time.’

I was there seven years and such was the pace of life that it almost felt that I faced everything a minister can do. The only Baptist church in a town of over 100,000 people I was thrown into so many diverse situations that demanded a response. Often I was a first-responder meaning it was my first opportunity to respond to an issue I had never met before. Murder, suicide, a rapist who was in the headlines, deaths at every age from a few hours to ripe old age. Divorce, infidelity, marriage, disputes and breakdowns. Racial tension. And always, ongoing responsibility for two sermons every Sunday, mid-week Bible study and prayer meetings, pastoral visitation, denominational networking, collaboration with others in this cathedral town. And, especially, new believers coming to faith and by baptism into membership.

Here I was 40 years on with men and women who had become my friends back then, through thick and thin, through my failures and inadequacies. Anyone sharing in a reunion knows the rush of memory, and the general goodwill that thrusts the best of memories forward, often giving them an affectionate polish. But as we worshipped together and sang some of the great hymns of the church I knew (and my wife with me) that we have a privilege that few other jobs give. Of belonging with a family made up of otherwise unlike people united in this strange community in Christ, called a Baptist church.