Cross Cultural Mission

We met Paul Thaxter on Saturday at the Fresh Expressions vision day. I attended his workshop on how to interpret cultural contexts. Paul spent quite a few years in Pakistan as a missionary where he learned to engage culture and offer the Gospel to people in a challenging context.

Paul works for the Church Mission Society, one of these parachurch organizations that we've been finding out about in Britain that are doing amazing and creative things. The Church Mission Society had its origins in the Clapham Sect, the network of evangelical social reformers in the 19th century that were formed to work for the abolition of slavery. Paul's title is "Transcultural Mission Director" and the "foreign cultures" he deals with are often not in other countries but in the vast realms of British society that are completely untouched by the Christian message.

We had already planned to go to Oxford for a couple of days and realized to our delight that the CMS (Church Mission Society) offices are in Oxford. We agreed to meet Paul for lunch.

He's a really engaging guy, with a deep instinct for connecting with people who speak different "languages" and live and work in different places. He had said at the workshop on Saturday that Jesus was the greatest cross-cultural missionary of all time because he bridged the gap between the "culture of heaven" and the "culture of earth."

He told the following story that describes what he's about. Shortly after returning from Pakistan, he was on a train where he met three younger women. They struck up a conversation. "What do you do?" they asked. He wasn't sure how to answer because he knew that "missionary," "minister" or any other church-related descriptor would probably produce a polite response, but close the doors to genuine dialogue. So, he replied, "I help people navigate their spiritual journeys."

"That is so interesting," one of them said, and they embarked on an intense discussion of some really deep issues. When they got off the train, one of the young women said to another, "You know, we've been friends since we were 7 years old, and I've never heard you tell that story."

People are desperately hungry to explore spiritual questions and issues but the language we want to use to frame the discussion effectively closes so many doors. This was an illustration of how to use language to open doors.

What are the most important things about being missional, we asked. "It's who you will eat with," Paul replied. So much of what we've been hearing focuses on the crucial importance of table fellowship. Eating with people has implications that are evangelical (who we regard as important), ecclesiological (how we define our communities) and eschatological (prefiguring the Kingdom of God.)

It's also about who we are willing to pray with -- not just pray for but pray with. The church's prayers are often patronizing because while we're quite willing to pray for the poor and the marginalized, we're often not so willing to pray with them, to invite them into the task of prayer.

It's all pretty simple, he said. Jesus is the "handshake of God." As Christian leaders, we just need to do our job -- to begin with prayer, to steward the Gospel, to do what we've been called to do. Conversations like the one we had with Paul Thaxter have reinforced for me just how much we do in the church actually interferes with the Gospel. We just need to do what we've been called to to do.

The Sanctuary

I found a community called The Sanctuary that meets in the Methodist Central Hall -- right across the road from Westminster Abbey, actually -- on Thursdays, which was our good fortune. The Methodist Central Hall is this massive domed structure, built in 1912, quite obviously to demonstrate to the Church of England that they weren't the only show in town.


The Sanctuary, though, is a group of mostly 20s and 30s that meet in the chapel of this building.

When we go there, we were welcomed by a young lady called Matilda and a young man called James. There was tea, coffee and light snacks. Jonathan Green, the pastor, wasn't there tonight because his wife Felicity was going into labour with their first child. But James filled us in on the origins of The Sanctuary.

Jonathan came to work with the congregation that meets at the Central Hall, with responsibility for youth and young adults. He started The Sanctuary a few years ago with, I'm told, Felicity and one other person. Today, there's a community of over 100 young adults who come and go, with an average of 30 showing up each week for worship. This night I counted 25 including us.

The worship was not what you'd call experimental. We sang some standard worship songs -- Blessed Be Your Name, As the Deer -- with a grand piano and flute accompaniment. Jonathan didn't know till the last minute that he wasn't going to be there, so a member of the community read his sermon, which was part of a series on rest and recreation. It was really thoughtful, starting with a reference to Abraham Joshua Heschel's work on the Sabbath. The point was that as Christians we need to develop the spiritual discipline of rest and leisure, and learn to see our "holidays" as "holy days."

There was some good discussion afterwards about the challenge of living a balanced life of work, rest and prayer in our culture. Many young people come to The Sanctuary directly from work where they are immersed in the frantic pace of central London.

As I said, there was absolutely nothing glitzy or gimmicky about the gathering, but we came away with a feeling of authentic community.

One interesting feature of The Sanctuary is that there are about 25 people who participate in leadership -- music, setting up, hospitality, Power Point, praying, preaching. Every time someone does something, they are given points. Ordinarily, you would think this was some kind of competition to see who could accumulate the most. In fact, it's just the opposite. When you get to 6 points, you have to take a break from leading for at least a week.

This was quite a contrast to evensong at Westminster Abbey, but another fascinating expression of church in the heart of the city.

Westminster Abbey

We were going to tour Westminster Abbey, but it costs 15 quid. However, we noticed a sign for Evensong at 5 p.m., after the paid tours finish.

We showed up at 4:30 and were directed to stand with a crowd in the nave, waiting to go in. I was really surprised at how many people were there. I'm sure some were just tourists, but once everyone was seated there had to be 300 people.

Thankfully, it was a choral evensong. The choir began to sing with that ethereal, almost otherworldly sound that is so characteristic of English cathedral music. It sent tingles up our spines.

I don't think I could be an Anglican, but I do find Anglican liturgy, well done, one of the most beautiful things in the world. And this was truly beautiful.

I've been reading a book by Bob Hopkins and Mike Breen on clusters. They make the point that a lot of churches take the cathedral-inspired service as the norm. But whereas places like Westminster Abbey can do it REALLY, REALLY well, most churches can't. They have a choir and try to sing anthems by Purcell or Mendelssohn, but it's nothing but a shadow of what it ought to be.

Same thing for churches like Willow Creek. How many churches have tried to emulate Willow Creek, but done it really badly?

Bob and Mike's advice is that churches shouldn't try to be what they're not, or to take something that requires enormous resources which they will never have as the standard. What churches of any size can do is to be communities of disciples, and they shouldn't divert resources from those essential tasks into trying to put on a Sunday "event" that is beyond their capacity.

Open to the Community

I'm sitting in the spacious (and today, at least, sun-drenched!) atrium of Stopsley Baptist Church in Luton, north of London. It's set up with plenty of room for gathering and welcoming. There's the Lounge Cafe where you can buy snacks, drinks and light lunches. To my right is a large children's centre where parents and tots gather on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday for "Hullabaloo" -- a play group staffed by volunteers. Today there is also a well baby clinic being held in the church.

What's striking me is just the level of activity and energy on a Tuesday morning. Toddlers and babies are laughing and crying, parents are coming and going, people are sitting on the comfortable couches and around tables in the cafe area, sharing conversation and cup of tea.

We spent some time this morning with Dave Shaw who is the pastoral care pastor at Stopsley. A social worker by training, Dave is responsible for nurturing and encouraging people from cradle to grave. He coordinates parenting courses, pre-marriage and marriage enrichment, as well as care for the elderly and dying. "I have the best job in the world," he told us.

Stopsley has built a reputation in Luton as a community that can be trusted to do high quality work with people of all ages. But that's clearly no accident. I'm getting a sense of a congregation that has very intentionally turned itself out towards towards the community, with a genuine care for people regardless of whether they ever show up at church.