URBANarmy

This weekend for many salvationists is an important weekend as they travel to Southport and to the ROOTs CONVENTION . Travel safely and I hope those of you who pop by URBANarmy have a really good time. I look forward to hearing how it went. Not really my thing - too big - but nevertheless I'm glad it is still meeting a need for lots of people. As for me and our family (including unofficial God Parents - a strange designation bestowed upon good friends Paul and Heather by our daughters) we're off to our BOOTS CONVENTION we are camping in Sussex. Given the weather today our wellies are well and truly packed!

George (mentioned before here ) has got a problem. You see his son has bought a new dog. A Staffordshire bull terrier. Not a lap dog – unless you are brave. It’s caused an issue. The last dog they had went violent and bit a child’s face. George and his wife decided no more dogs. But his son thought different. The argument got out of hand and the son pulled a knife on him. But what pierced him was his wife’s reaction. Isolated in the family he feels he needs someone to talk to so he is talking to me in our car park leaning on his yard broom. George is one of the many street cleaners that come in for their breakfasts each day. Not the most creative of church outreach programmes; not that much imagination; I don’t really expect anyone to write a book or create a video discussion pack about it. No people travelling around the world to see it in action. No people ringing up and asking how it works. No international conferences. It is just breakfast. But it is so much more. It represents for

That Farah thing is happening again...!

Recently I've gone through a spate of blogs that I follow - in different ways - drop off and die. Either a little red exclamation mark pops up by their blog entry on my RSS reader , or in-activity spells the end, or simply there is nothing left to say. Sometimes it is connected to a shift I've noticed in blog culture - a shift in emphasis from a blogging for "me" (personal thoughts and reflection) to a more blogging for "you" (an obligation to say something because people visit this site!). With this shift - unless it is particularly resourceful to my context - the blog dies as its intimacy wanes. As I watch these blogs die I feel a sense of loss. Reading and being stretched by someone's thoughts and reflections sometimes from a completely different angle on life and theology has done me good. Finding people who are stimulating through their outlook on life, their understanding of God and church has encouraged me. When they are no longer there - it see

Who should I vote for? Your expected outcome: Labour Your actual outcome: Labour 22 Conservative -65 Lib Dems 73 UK Independence Party -22 Green 29 You should vote: Liberal Democrat Now there is a surprise - how'd that happen? You'd probably sense a sense of healthy Christian socialism within URBANarmy. I've voted Labour since university days - so something has shifted somewhere!! However much I try the Libdems come out on top! Thanks Carl for pointing out the link. Take the test at Who Should You Vote For

"...to reduce ecclesiology to the Great Commission alone is not adequately biblical. The younger evangelical intuitively knows this and is in search of a deeper grasp of what it means to be the church" Webber, R.E. (2002) The Younger Evangelicals. Baker Book House Here's what I am thinking through. Has the contemporary church's understanding and working out of the Great Commission transformed the world the way Christ intended? I look around and I'm not entirely sure. Where exactly I wonder have we been missing the point? I guess if the hole has been dug in the wrong spot it is madness to think digging harder and deeper in the same spot will make the hole in the right spot. It's funny how if you say "listen I'm going over here to dig" you're made to feel you are copping out, diluting, weakening the gospel. Whereas you are actually up for finding out the depth and height of what Great Commission is all about and putting it into action. Coppin

I sat with Sanjay with a cup of tea and listened. I listened as the story unfolded. I listened to the pain of a mother and of a wife whose family had been ripped apart by racial hatred. Sanjay is a Christian married to a Hindu, as she talks to me I hear last nights story. Last night her 16-year-old was involved in a fight. A standard one on one escalated to a gang of 20 baseball wielding youths intent on revenge. As her 16-year-old was knocked to the ground her 18-year-old son jumped into help. A single punch with the aid of good old-fashioned knuckle-duster took out some of his teeth. Sanjay’s husband joined the fray, which was only dispersed on the arrival of the police. I sat with a stunned Sanjay – her husband in custody, her 18-year-old nowhere to be seen having run away; her sixteen-year-old complaining of nausea and giddiness; her 9-year-old too scared to go out of the house. I sat with Sanjay with a cup of tea and listened.

We never noticed it, tucked away at the of Eryn's mouth an impacted tooth . The dentist noticed it and pointed its existence to us and made sure we were aware it needed attention on the cleaning front. So every day we give this unfortunate tooth some encouragement by giving it a good brush. "An impacted tooth is when a tooth fails to fully emerge through the gums." Failure to fully emerge? There is a growing tension within me. I love the emerging church thing, the creativity, fluidity its confluence of thought and ideas but I need more. I am desperate to read of an emerging church that isn't so much about multiple TV's, video loops, Moby and U2. I am desperate to read of an emerging church that isn't so much about slick html, book contacts and wifi conferencing. I am desperate to read of an emerging church that isn't so much about cosy community where we sit around sharing stories adding our colours to the tapestry that is a gospel narrative. Listen - I ta

Miguel was waiting for me. His sallow skin, dark eyes, lank hair all scream of his addiction to drugs- a heroin user. Miguel has been coming into church ever since I met him begging. We managed to get him into a rehab programme which he decided to opt out of. But he still comes. We've opened up choices but he has chosen to live in a violent squat and to inject heroin. Today his hunger is dominating - well a week on biscuits and water would. I get him some food and a drink while we do up a food parcel. He needs some clothing so before the little charity shop opens we go and sort him out. As he changes into the fresh clothes he smiles for the first time "you know... I feel human again!!". I speak before I think - "You know Miguel - I hope you are not selling these clothes so you can buy drugs...I'd be so disappointed if you were!" I already feel disappointed as his pained innocence is a little too pained and his lies a little too tangible. We talk some more

I started a response to Lucy’s comment below but it got a little long so I decided to use it as a post. Lucy’s question of expectations was one I asked of myself as I drove to Ashburnham. I’m not big on expectations but I came to the conclusion that for the two days away I was looking for solitude, space and time. The problem with SA officers/clergy retreats is that they are generally for larger groups of people (there were 50 of us) and they tend to be pretty prescriptive in that they consist of some rousing singing, some reflective singing followed by a lot of one way conversation. I am happy to do that but it doesn’t feel like a retreat I need something a little more individual. This year I went with a game plan. I avoided talk that drains me – I avoided conversation about putting TSA right, I tried to twist every conversation I had away from talk about our ministry. Also I went with my own agenda to take responsibility for my expectations. That meant this year ‘free time’ didn’t co

I'm not too good at it - but I am here for a couple of days on a retreat. I don't know why I am not good at it. I wish I knew why but there you go!

I’ve got some new friends. William Zuma from Swaziland; Mrs Janet Komoah from Ghana; Mrs. Grace Edward from Botswana; Brother Jeff Ikey from Zimbabwe; Mrs. Susan Shabangu and now Deacon Allen from Nigeria. They are just so nice – in fact they have offered me up to 56 million USD. Their friendship knows no bounds. They are really trying so hard, trying to get to know all about me, asking how the family is, trying so hard to align themselves to my life. They truly are becoming buddies. Empathetic listeners wanting to share my life. Interested in its twists and turns. It all comes from a change of heart that I have had about well-known emails from Africa promising untold riches. Instead of deleting them I have decided to answer. “I could not accept any further blessings from your lovely continent, God has blessed me in many ways that I can not take your money. You see in the last month I have had a Nigerian, Zimbabwean, someone from Ivory coast, Botswana and now Swaziland all donate milli

Passed to me from off shore fisherman it seems fun... 1. You're stuck inside Fahrenheit 451. Which book do you want to be ? Sorry haven't read it 2. Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character? There was a character called Holly in a book I read about Kenya when I was 18 - she sounded great!! 3. The last book you bought was...? The Upside-Down Kingdom by Donald B. Kraybill - I saw it referenced in Catch the wind by Charles Ringma and it caught my imagination. Waiting for it to be delivered via abebooks.com 4. The last book you read was...? Ringma, C (1994) Catch the Wind. Regent College a bit of a bash on institutional church but from the perspective of full church engagement. 5. What are you currently reading? Fiennes, R (2003) Captain Scott. H&S I try to balance reading between biographies, novels, worthy books! (that I largely pretend to understand!) and christian stuff. 6. Five books you would take to a desert island? I presuming that taking a bible would

Victor came around last night in a state. The knocking on the door signalled something was wrong. Stood on our doorstep his agitation was obvious. Victor clearly has issues (read more here and here ). But it seems that his housing association has had enough. They want him out. In his shaking nicotined stained hand the court injunction listing reason after reason how by May 5th he is out. It doesn’t seem fair to me. It seems unfair to me that society is intent on making the vulnerable more vulnerable. Break the broken. Crush the indefensible, the voiceless. How far to the margins can people be pushed. I'm cross; angry; disappointed. I seem to have different emotions coursing through me. You see I had a conversation with a colleague today and I feel numb with a mixture of sadness and anger. Treating Victor that way might be alright for society but it is not alright for those trying to demonstrate the kingdom of god. I'm bubbling. I have nowhere to go with this - but here…sorry.

My first mistake was eating it, my second asking what it was, my third mistake was looking what I had eaten up in the dictionary. I love the multi-cultural diversity that makes up our church. Sometimes when I visit some of our members I feel like Vincent Donovan ! The richness of the 'lack of sameness' is so refreshing. I'm learning the importance of accepting hospitality as part of cultural exchange. I only popped by to drop something off to Ade - I knew I would be offered something to honour my visit but nothing really prepared me for what I was about to receive. "Please have some pepper soup..", "thank you" I reply relieved - I'd just eaten at home... soup would be fine. Ade leaves me in the single room where she lives with her mother and son. She soon returns with more of a stew than soup. A quick look in the fading light and I know I'm facing a task. The meat is unidentifiable. The soup is red hot and my eyes are watering. A prod and a push