lurchersontheedge

Everybody Welcome Bartley Green

I have to be a little bit careful lest someone might get the impression that I go into schools purely to convert people. That would not be true; I still believe it is God the Holy Spirit who converts. I am though convinced that schools are a vital part of any local community and have the potential to set people free; pupils, parents and staff alike.

I am delighted to have schools in the Parish where I am vicar, who want to engage with the Church. As one Head puts it, ‘Church and School are the two constants on our estate; therefore it is important to work together’. Of course, this means being wheeled out to do collective worship, participating in school governance, and learning to give opinions on things that I know relatively little about and going along to school productions. When there are several schools on the patch this is something that takes committed and attentive time.

Committed, attentive and generous time is something that I will return to. For now, all I want to say is that this is not an area that I am a specialist in. I am a product of the instant generation. Born in 1967, I am accustomed to things being done quickly; this is why every year I have a habitual struggle with growing tomato plants. I start with good intentions: grow bags, proper feed and the intention to water twice daily. Sometimes I forget to go outside and water them, I am then overcome with guilt and drench for 2-3 days. The end result is that I do get some toms, but the plants are twisted and the fruit themselves, although truly scrumptious do not conform to what a tom should actually look like. I want things too quickly at times; and therefore do not spend enough time making sure the plant can grow, even if in theory I know all that should be done. Of course a key part to success in any school is committed, generous time.

Generosity is at the very heart of what Christians believe (should believe) God to be like. The parables told by Jesus of Nazareth are mostly to do with generosity. An excellent example of this is the Parable of the Sower, which is found in Mark 4

¹Again^(A) he began to teach beside the sea. And a very large crowd gathered about him,^(B) so that he got into a boat and sat in it on
the sea, and the whole crowd was beside the sea on the land. ²And^(C) he was teaching them many things in parables, and in his teaching he said to them: ³“Listen!^(D) A sower went out to sow. ⁴And as he sowed, some seed  fell along the path, and the birds came and devoured it. ⁵Other seed fell on rocky ground, where it did not have much soil, and immediately it sprang up, since it had no depth of soil. ⁶And^(E) when the sun rose, it was scorched, and since it had no root,^(F) it withered away. ⁷Other seed fell among^(G) thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked it, and it yielded no grain. ⁸And other seeds fell into good soil and produced grain, growing up and increasing and yielding thirtyfold and sixtyfold and^(H) a hundredfold.” ⁹And he said, ^(I) “He who has ears to hear, let him hear.”

Now, partly because of Mark’s explanation of what the Parable means, most interpreters and preachers have concentrated on responses to faith. I wonder though whether in the example of the Sower, we have a model of overwhelming generosity. Farmers in the Ancient Near East depended on their crops for survival. Unlike me, who if the tom plants finally give up the ghost am not unduly concerned, those farmers had experienced enough of hunger and want to know what would happen if the crop failed. Thus it is very odd just to accept the fact that the farmer scattered his seed in a haphazard way, unaware of what would happen to seedlings growing on rocks or among thorns. Perhaps what we have is not a Parable about faith responses, but one about the generous farmer who is constantly lavishing us with care; regardless of whether that care is rejected. Other Parables such as the Good Samaritan or the Lost Sons also point to generosity. Indeed of the latter, a lay leader in my last Parish was incadescent with concern (he was an Anglican) over the father’s welcome for his son: ‘too much generosity; too much grace; it is outrageous’ he was often heart to murmur.

Generosity, grace; indeed outrageous grace are the foundational stones of bumbling. Bumbling with intent to attentively listen and build relationships. So much for the theory, how does it work it practice; particularly in relation to schools?

First, bumbling can be misunderstood. We live in a society where time is precious, and people do not usually have time to just be there; listening. It takes time to overcome such misunderstandings. It is one thing to be there for collective worship and for the odd RE lesson; to go on a trip or be at a meeting to do with governance; but another to listen to the secretary, receive a prayer request from a pupil or earn the right to enter the head’s study and talk as two professionals caring for the same people. Time is not something that is seen as being on offer in most growth manuals or packages that will change a church or organisation. Indeed it is crazy in my context. More people attend church now than they did two years ago; however we are not growing fast enough to cover all those who will ‘be promoted to glory’ as William Booth once put it. Talking to the secretary or hearing a pupil’s prayer request seems to be quite passive when action is required. That is however to misunderstand the outrageousness of grace.

Second, there needs to be some constancy. This means being willing to be there ‘in season and out of season’ to quote the late John Stott and of course the ever so cuddly Apostle Paul (there I have often wanted to put cuddly and Paul in the same sentence). In my context, the head tells me often that church and school are the two constants on the estate. We therefore need to prove it. This will mean the usual involvement, but waiting patiently for other opportunities. An example of this has been a transition project where the church paid for an artist to work with every primary school child transitioning to the local secondary school. This was funded by the Church Urban Fund Mustard Seed Grant programme, which has in turn led to creative involvements with the Church Flower Festival(!) and the acceptance by the schools of a Lee Abbey Team going into work with their pupils in early 2012. More surprisingly, 2-3 of the Heads are clear; come into school ‘to do God’. That is your area of expertise. We have taken 2 years to get to this place; which is longer than the usual growth strategy.

Third, you need not to expect results immediately. However what is a result in Christian terms? Is it more bums on seats. Yes, I know I want my name in lights (for good reasons) having doubled the congregation. Perhaps not entirely. Is it more confident rounder people, who are sometimes confident and committed followers of the generous God? Yes, think that is true.

To bumble means sometimes looking like you do not know where you are going. That is unnerving and uncomfortable. It is also about being prepared to be misunderstood and allowing people to wonder what an earth you are doing. That in itself can be quite liberating.

Bumbling is an odd word to choose for even a semi-strategy about leadership and growth. Someone has said that I do intentional bumbling. Is that a contradiction in terms? Bumbling does resonate with the idea that one is not in control of the direction one is heading in. That would seem to be true of any work with human beings per se; but perhaps resonates in particular with parochial ministry in the Church of England.

I can only reflect on my current context as I see it. I can intend certain things to happen, but whether or not they are achieved is dependent in many ways upon the intentions of others; indeed in my line of work, God has something to say too. I can, as I have done this afternoon, anoint with oil ‘for healing, comfort and peace’. What effect this may or may not have is not only down to me. Similarly, when I visit Sandra (name changed) tomorrow about her father’s funeral, I will do my best bumbling, feeling my way into the situation, and how effective I am will depend on a number of circumstances. People stuff cannot and does not depend on manuals and plans.

This does not mean that the distilled wisdom of leadership gurus like John C Maxwell cannot be helpful in a church context nor that the observations from different cultural contexts like those offered by Ajith Fernando are not relevant; only that strategy is not the be and end all of everything.

I am not a strategist – maybe that is not the problem. I do not have a list of people to visit; indeed I sometimes miss things because I do not; sometimes because I forget to remember things that I have been told. Too often my diary is in another place, and therefore absent without leave when things need to be written in it.

Yet, at the same time; I am committed to people and place. I have no interest in career progression; which is good given the uncertainty of the future of the institution for which I work. I drop into people. I can be an attentive listener; although not all the time, sometimes the world has to be made to wait; which is a sentiment not expressed very often in the average leadership manual.

I guess for me the beginning is learning to look for what might be described as signs of the divine. That starts with me, I am afraid. I cannot offer anything that I have not got. On the one hand, you might say that I have a working class background, am someone who failed ‘O’ and ‘A’ levels, but ended up with a Ph.D. I do have a tenacity for keeping going when perhaps it would be sensible to give up. I am not great at conversations, often because I feel I have nothing to say or am asking why would anyone want to hear me. There is an uncertainty then within me. I remember when working for the London City Mission as an evangelist, a heckler saying to me, ‘you don’t seem quite sure, do you? There was an element of truth in what he said; I was sure of my faith; but not sure about myself. Like many people, inadequacy could be my middle name. Therefore, manuals that depict leaders, even ecclesiastical ones, as rambo-type figures complete with razor-sharp bible verses, words of knowledge and uber-confidence sit force me out of their picture. Seeing signs of the divine within myself is difficult. I am though getting there slowly.

Indeed, in the context in which I minister, seeing signs of the divine per se can be difficult. This is not to say that they are not there, but they are not expected. My people do not seem to know that God is on their side. This is probably because no one else seems to be on their side. When someone’s horizons are limited – one might say sometimes forcibly inhibited, it can be difficult for signs of the divine to break through. Poverty and poverty of expectation can strangle hope. Someone, perhaps it was Napolean (not my preferred leadership mentor) said that ‘leaders trade in giving hope’; thus leading in a situation without hope is more difficult that it appears.

You can though bumble. Bumbling is unobtrusive; like the mustard seed of old it appears out of no where. Bumbling can be liberating; for it happens, and opportunites can come and people can be set free, just as easy at the caterpillar becomes the butterfly

Happy bumbling

About a month or so ago, I was musing about the possibility of a book entitled Bumbling Leadership, Bumbling Growth. I am not much further forward with what might or might not be in it.

I think though it would need to begin with a section that was completely honest: it would need for me to begin with the declaration that my natural habitat as a Christian is in the slightly charismatic evangelical jungle. Slightly might have to be revised. My son and I have return from New Wine in Newark. New Wine is a group of predominantly Anglican churches which could fairly be described as charismatic evangelical. I have bopped (yes the Revd Dr does attempt to dance :-)), waved my hands, laughed, prayed and been prayed for. Tomorrow morning, I will preside at a catholic (Anglican) communion service, singing the Gloria, the sursum corda, standing for the Gospel and the Creed. I am therefore someone who has become very comfortable in lots of worship settings; I might be a chameleon in terms of church tradition. In the evening, I will lead a service of choral evensong. I will be a little whistful for a gathering of 1000+ people rather than a dozen, but I will be at home.

Where is this leading me. I think it is to say that leadership is about being comfortable firstly and foremostly in your own skin. I wonder what others think of this starting point. More will undoubtedly follow.

October will see one of the oddest things I have done since coming to Bartley Green. I have invited my former bishop, who I admire tremendously, Graham Dow to lead a healing weekend.  Details are via the following link

Healing Weekend (1)

I have found Bishop Graham to be a godly man who has been quietly supportive of me. I am delighted to commend him – why not come along?

St Michael and All Angels, Bartley Green has had an interesting day, or at least its vicar has. I have been able to reflect on the fact that the congregation has probably grown between 15 and 20% at its main morning service, and indeed if we were to include our Messy Church activitu much more than that.

I suppose this should be cue for a publication or conference paper, although one might suspect the title Bumbling Leadership, Bumbling Growth might not immediately be a hit. Or the strap line ‘hard work helps‘ not immediately bring people church growth strategists beating their path to my door.

Perhaps a Christian minister is though called to just bumble along, seeking opportunities to talk about the outrageous grace that we have; whether this be in school, at the shops, on the phone, talking to pensioners and those who want the baby done etc.

Perhaps bumbling along acknowledges the fact that we are not in control. That in itself might be the most delightful thing of all, and therefore set us free to be ourselves. For me that means a bit of a bumble.

A number of years ago, I spent some time looking at the issue of fertility. I published some bits and pieces, and was working towards a larger project, which sadly did not materialise. The Grove Booklet (I know shameless marketing) Christianity and Childlessness is still available http://www.grovebooks.co.uk/cart.php?target=product&product_id=17164&category_id=37. An earlier piece called Searching for an Impotent God publised in Third Way can be read here http://books.google.co.uk/books?id=edSjTm6XxUoC&pg=PA23&lpg=PA23&dq=searching+for+an+impotent+god+ellis&source=bl&ots=xpCPe_t_Lm&sig=Iik08awGIBUSBRcUgGBIMOtTTdQ&hl=en&ei=QbH5TdXtDY-FhQfP5LyLAw&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=1&ved=0CC0Q6AEwAA#v=onepage&q=searching%20for%20an%20impotent%20god%20ellis&f=false

This morning, I received an email asking whether I would contribute a chapter to a book on inability, illness and faith. I have said yes. but I wonder about the rightness of this.

What do people think?

I am the vicar,
I am.

I am the pastor, the carer, the listener

the one with the time to drop everything and

I also understand global politics and immigration
and

I am the one who knows about Afghanistan

and cares about ‘our boys’

and I care about speed-humps

graffiti

litter

and the positioning of zebra crossings near schools.

I am passionate
about school assemblies

council meetings

mums and toddlers and also

I am good at one-to-one and small groups and

I listen and empathise and at the same time

I am the one who plans and strategizes and

I am the one who understands budgets and decides if we can buy
any staples

or replace the heating system.

I am the vicar, I am.

I am the quiet reflective
prayer and

I am the speaker, the enthuser, the motivator, the learned teacher
and

I can engage a room of 10, 50, 300 people with no problem
because

I am the one who relates particularly well to children

older people

the middle-aged

the jobless

the employed

the doctors

teenagers and

I am the one who is always one step ahead and

I am the one who is endearingly disorganised.

I am the vicar, I am.

I care passionately
about church politics

I care passionately about domestic abuse

I care passionately about the plight of Anglo Catholics

women priests

gay clergy

evangelicals and

I listen to the pope

the archbishop and

Rob Bell.

I am up-to-date with
theological developments.

I understand the history of the reformation

the armed forces

the war

the government

the deanery

the Jewish background of Jesus and

I care about the excluded and

I manage my admin and

I know how to access children’s services.

I am the vicar, I am.

I am the one in whom
trust is placed

I am the one in whom grumbles are placed

I am the one who is always talking to everyone else

I am the one who models worship

marriage

family

gardening

conversation

baking

prayer

listening

talking

planning.

I often get it wrong.

I am the one who has to keep my doubts under wraps and

I am also the one who is vulnerable and

dependable

stable

trustworthy.

I am the one who chairs
meetings

I am the one who manages group discussions

I am the manager of an organisation that employs only me

I am the volunteer co-ordinator

the opinion co-ordinator

the trespasser on the territory of people who have
been around a lot longer than me

and will be there after me.

I understand the heating system

the financial system

the rota system.

I love committees.

I drink tea with
older people

And coffee with younger people

I listen to stories of bus routes and hospital visits
and

I believe in transforming our community through the power of
Jesus.

I am the one
who is very tired.

I am the one who hates wearing dresses but
still smiles

and would love to be muddy all the time.

I am the one who only
works one day a week.

I am the one
who loves this job.

I am the one who is making it up as I go along.

I am the one who would not swap this for anything.

I am the vicar, I am.

With thanks to Janet Chapman of Birmingham Cathedral for this delightful and perceptive piece. It is from http://theblogofkevin.wordpress.com

I am not the best person to ask about music. Indeed until earlier today, I had no idea what an intermezzo is. I like a number of different types of music: U2, Queen, the Good, the bad and the Queen, Bruce Cockburn, Show of Hands. I am not particularly into Christian music; but some friends of mine have a band called Freakshow. I do not know whether they sing my kind of music; but they are a group who are passionate about what they do and delight in singing about their love of their Lord Jesus. Their music is therefore more than a little infectious.

Here is a link to one of their pieces. Their lead singer tells me its a little rough, whatever that means.

http://www.definitionbreaks.co.uk/Freakshow/Freakshow_-_13.mp3