URBANarmy

[this started as a response to a comment…] Two challenges in one week. The observant will notice the fabulous picture of Canary Wharf being struck by lightning has been pulled and replaced in my profile. I found the photo on Google Images. This iconic image of our area was perfect. It is the last thing I see when I close our curtains. It’s flashing interrupts my sleep. It is what greets me when I wake up. Perfect. I linked it in my profile. I didn’t realise that I would need a license to use it as a thumbnail image. I didn’t realise I breached copyright. But an email from the photographer alerted me to the error of my way. So the observant will notice the fabulous picture of Canary Wharf being struck by lightning has been pulled and replaced. Lana gently nudged me to think ethically about a central strut underpinning the reflections that are URBANarmy. Should I feel discomfort at the use of everyday stories that are shaping my theology and missional thinking? People are part of my life...

Week one of four almost finished. A real mix of young people and needs, some obvious some hidden. As each year loads of options for the young people to enjoy - canoeing; sailing; creative arts; cooking; the theatre; London Dungeons. Lot’s of table tennis, pool, PS2. There was something interesting about going up to the west end together on a bus to watch Blood Brothers . A story of brokenness. There was something interesting in travelling together on public transport in London. Something interesting when the driver ran up the stairs and told us that everyone had to get off the bus.... ."sorry the bus has broken down" There was something interesting about the shared relief! Week one of four nearly finished. Weeks ahead include a climbing project; a mural painting project; and a residential to Scotland. I'm only involved in the first two weeks but it is good to be able to offer space to young people. A privilege for these young people to share their lives with you. To jour...

Prodigal Kiwi(s) give a good structure for missional bible study ( here ). Weaving Missional Questions into our Interaction with Scripture Missional questions I’ve formulated, but which had their origins in a related set of questions produced by I think The Gospel and Our Culture Network (USA) . I’ve used them when working with Biblical texts in preparing a sermon. Mission How does this text send us and equip us for mission in our respective contexts – how does it help us enact our part(s) in God’s unfolding redemptive drama. How does it invite us (individually, communally, and societally) to increased wholeness? How does it nourish a journey into wholeness? Present Context In what ways are our culturally conditioned hearings, loyalties and praxis challenged by radical invitation of the gospel and its embodiment? Change In what contemporary ways are we challenged by this text? How might we be being invited to respond to that challenge? How might this text advance our formation an...

I blog in my head as I run. The first few drops refresh my over heated body. Bono screams out it’s a beautiful day through my headphones. The wind picks up, invigorates. Four miles gone one to go and the storm promises to cool me down. A flash – 2…..3…..4….5 and then thunder. The drops get bigger heavier. Flash 2…3….then thunder. I look over my shoulder. The black cloud seems to be following me. Ok the flash and thunder is uncomfortably close. Newspaper headlines swirl Batmanesque in and out of my mind “jogger struck by lightening….!” I speed up and the drops stop. I relax and the drops are back. I speed up and the drops stop. I relax and the drops are back... All the time the pyrotechnics above are enough for me to push myself to the limit. All the time the blackness is on my shoulder. I get in. 45 mins a PB for the Isle of Dog’s! The storm in full swing I go into the garden hoping to see lighting strike Canary Wharf. As I stand in the gloom of the storm. The rain refreshing, rejuven...

I just added tim miller to my RSS reader bloglines . I'm glad he's eventually got around to blogging - great original photo's, thoughts and reflections on Urban ministry and life. This - lifted from his site these are my church clothes - a double decker bus flying by his front door.

We helped Victor to move today. Five half full refuse sacks, one chair, one broom. We arrived in the mini bus to move Victor out. He had to move. ( Victor's court case Victor - GBH and living in a soap opera ; read more here and here . The story of his impending eviction here .) He was ready for us with his possessions of life on the pavement. I look past Victor to his flat. I nod towards the door. "Hey, Victor, is there anything else inside you want to take...?" "No - this is all I have....nothing else...nothing" We moved Victor today... it didn't take long ... but I won't forget it.

NT Wright in ‘Who was Jesus?’ makes a powerful but uncomfortable point. (quoted in some forge material) “Twentieth-century Western Christians need to shed a few ideas… When people downed their tools for a while and trudged up a hillside to hear this Jesus talking, we can be sure they weren’t going to hear someone tell them to be nice to each other; or that if they behaved themselves (or got their minds around the right theological scheme) there would be a rosy future waiting for them when they got to ‘heaven’, or that God had decided at last to do something about forgiving them for their sins. First-century Jews knew that they ought to be nice to each other…they believed that their God would look after them and give them new physical bodies in his renewed world…there was no sign that they were walking around gloomily wondering how their sins were ever going to be forgiven. They had the Temple and the sacrificial system. If Jesus had only said what a lot of Western Christians seem to t...

"Spike what have they done to you...?" Spike and his dog came into the carpark. His face was a mess. I take in the sight of his face as he speaks. The bruised eyes, one completely closed; the flattened, broken nose; the encrusted trail of blood from one of his ears. This guy had taken a terrible beating. "listen Graham.." "Spike...it's Gordon" "yep Gordon... I can't go in, I'll scare the kiddies.... can I have a cup of tea and a chat with you out here?" I get a cup of tea, we sit on our bench and we talk. Everytime someone comes he walks away, hides his face. The story emerges of a group of crack users taking a dislike to this affable alcoholic. He looks at me through an eye he can hardly open "Graham ... I don't know what I've done...? I sit in the church grounds so that the Vicar waves to me and knows I am still alive ... and I can't even do that anymore... they came looking for me there...they won't leave me al...

Blah courtesy of CMS and Jonny Baker was worth being at this week. I was glad I didn't miss. I've been several times now and each time has been of value. I love the Blah when the invited guest (this time Pall Singh and richard sudworth ) outline their subject - (theirs mission in multi faith contexts ) but there is something within me that can't cope with the blah afterwards. I'm quite sociable, I'm quite amiable, I'm not shy, I usually have something to say- but I'm happier not bothering at Blah! Is there something wrong with me that I don't want to pick up the thoughts and take them further with people I don't know? That I don't want to reflect? Have a conversation? I don't feel like I am in recovery and need to share a story with other recovering Christians. It's all very nice and I am not being critical. I just like soaking it up, making my excuses and getting back to Poplar. All the way back on the tube I feel decidedly unsocial...

I love cooking, so you would expect that I'd be happy to step into Martha's shoes when she is away. Martha is our community cook. The problem is that there is a raging Gordon Ramsey within me, my fuse is short, I'm volatile - not a good demonstration of the kingdom. When people are so fussy about the colour of their toast, the temperature of their tea it has an effect on me. When Martha is away - Kate steps in clothed in grace and serenity and I am kept well away. So I look after parent and toddlers - I'm not good at that either - small chit chat pilfering time isn't my strength. Louisa looks up and says to me "good I'm glad you are here I want to chat some things through with you..." Last week I discovered a little about Louisa. Her strong sense of justice, her interest in history and knowledge of Catherine Booth, her journey of faith that she hasn't yet identified. Her brothers are Christians and from her accounts are pulling out all the stops. ...

We had a call today. We’ve been asked to do something. Salvation Army ministers were involved within hours of Thursday’s incident. Making sandwiches, giving out tea, water. Listening. Crying. It seems that tomorrow is our turn. I listened to the answer machine again. Could we do a stint at the sports centre in Victoria that has been set up for the families of those looking for the missing? We’re to be there as a support to families whose loved ones haven’t returned. A support to those that have just been shown – unhappy polaroids . A support to those whose deepest grief has been confirmed. A support to those whose questions have been left bewilderingly unanswered. A support to those guiltily relieved. A support to those who have lost all faith in a world that could conjure up such pain in the name of justice. A support to each other. So tomorrow – we do a stint. Actually the team needs a woman, so tomorrow Kate does a stint. I’ll stay at home waiting to be a support for Kate on her re...

So ends a day of sirens and helicopters overhead and I can't help reflect and say well done whoever you are. You've managed to close London's transport for a day. You've managed to injure over 700 people. You've managed to kill 40 people who got up this morning thinking that today was just Thursday. Well done on ripping friendships and families apart, throwing people into unexpected grief and suffering. Well done you've managed to get the world to look at London and to see how clever you are. You've caused the G8 to hiccup, and to stutter for a day. Well done you've managed to make your point. Above all well done, you've scared my 9 year old daughter, you've terrorised her. She is scared you are going to blow her up. She is scared that her Mum and Dad are going on a train tomorrow, she's scared that we're going to catch a bus. Well done you have done so well - it must be really hard to scare 9 year olds. Oh and well done on today stealing...

I feel I should apologise. 224,994 marching to make poverty history (BBC report here ). But there were 6 others there with a different agenda. Their agenda? To make Povery History. Roz our Youth Worker meticulous in her planning for the weekend made one small typo on some stencils to make our white shirts have a message. Not noticed till half way through the day, we are conscious that it may only be one small typo, but it may have big consequences on the village of Povery. So I feel I should apologise to the community of Povery should the G8 listen and make Povery history. To the people of Povery - we are truly very, very sorry!

The march finished. We're back. Placards so important minutes before discarded, strewn together, a 'placard graveyard' where sentiments and feelings go to die? I hope not. Dozing off in the bath back where we were staying (sorry no picture!) my thoughts wandered back over the day. A great day of unity. I'll not forget the minutes silence, nor the wave of whistling sent out along the march at its conclusion. But it has to be more than a great day. I remain convinced that what is needed has got to be more than soundbytes, statistics, clever arguments and rhetoric. Otherwise the 'sentiments and feelings' of a great day will be left strewn on the ground. There is a danger of becoming so good at the rhetoric but leaving us blind to an alternative way of life beyond the rhetoric. "The first shall be last and the last shall be first..." - that is what needs to be modeled. "The first shall be last and the last shall be first..." unfortunately wasn...

A memorable day. Lots of soundbytes, rhetoric, standing around and walking. Being part of 225,000 people but knowing that each one of us were representing 100's more we knew wanting to be there was immense. Eventually - bottle neck problems - I walked around in the beauty that is Edinburgh with the sun beating down on my back in a solidarity of white. However, as I walked I felt disappointed with certain groups getting their sub-agendas and sub brands across on the back of something as distinct as MPH - I kept thinking this is about world poverty not independence for Palestine! As I walked I felt my lunch disagreeing with me - reminding me of my disappointment with the ironic exploitation by the various food outlets that must have doubled their prices to make a quick buck. As I walked I felt elated to see generations of people saying enough is enough. As I walked I felt elated to have been part of something that has raised the profile of world poverty to an uncomfortable level. As ...

One minute I was looking into a face that looked like he wanted to rip my head off the next we were best buddies. An interesting start to the weekend... We’re in Edinburgh for MAKE POVERTY HISTORY . Its Past midnight, we’ve no idea what bus to get. Taxi is the only option. The other half of our group had got in one taxi; Thomas and I were left follow - I was already forming the "follow that taxi..." line! but we had to wait. As we wait I’m conscious that the drunken outburst that was filling Princess St was directed at me. "F..k you you w..nker" seemed to be the general gist of things. We’d jumped the taxi queue – we didn’t know. The tirade got louder and more abusive. The gathering crowd sensing action goaded the anger. I weighed up the options - "...right I'm going to sort him out" I hear myself say. Thomas looks on anxiously as I draw every inch of my 6' 3", I try and make my shoulders seem wider and walk purposely towards the source of ...

In a couple of hours we'll be catching the train to Edinburgh. I'm sure that when the G8 hear the voice of our youth club they'll see sense!! I'm looking forward to a long train journey. I haven't done that for years. I'm looking forward to some quality time with some quality young people and workers. I'm looking forward to being part of a community of solidarity. I hope the church's involvement points beyond themselves to a God of love, care and justice. "Being the people of God, being community, being in solidarity is not some strange afterthought on the part of God. God is a community of persons as Father, Son and Holy Spirit and, as such, God is the great community-builder. God’s concern has been to create a people who will reflect in the world something of God’s love, care and justice" (Ringma 1994:151) Ringma, C (1994) Catch the Wind. Regent College