One Weekend, Two Powerful Women

Last weekend was Cool, Chic and in Christ undiluted. Saturday, saw a trip to the Christopher Wren designed St James’ Church, Piccadilly for The National Youth Theatre’s excellent production of Louise Brealey’s The Legend of Pope Joan and on Sunday I was at The Roundhouse to watch Lady Gaga open the iTunes festival, with new material from her forthcoming album ArtPop. As I drifted to sleep in the early hours of the morning, with a strange combo of Gaga lyrics (her new track Swine is a 24 carat hit if I ever heard one) and bible verses (I know, I’m random like that), I was struck by two things, the incredibly visceral reaction that strong women get, and indeed what is the Christo response to it.

Let’s start with Pope Joan: as implied by the title, the play is based on a mediaeval legend that a woman disguised as a man rose all the way to the Papacy. There are many relevant themes explored in the play, from the casual misogyny of her fellow Christian brothers, through to the more pertinent, what does leadership in the church look like for those of us with a double x chromosome? In one scene, Pope Joan quotes from a passage which has long bothered me and that I will return to at greater length in a future post:

“For what I received I passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures,  and that he appeared to Cephas, and then to the Twelve. After that, he appeared to more than five hundred of the brothers and sisters at the same time, most of whom are still living, though some have fallen asleep.  Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles, and last of all he appeared to me also, as to one abnormally born.”  1 Corinthians 15:3-8

So why does Paul in spite of accounts that pre-date his own by a good several decades conveniently omit that it was the women and not the men that saw the risen Lord first? For those without a concordance, check out Mark 16:9 (most bible scholars agree that Mark’s is the oldest gospel in the bible, not me making up stuff, honest) or even Matthew 28:8-10 both which clearly show the women and not Peter or any of the other male disciples seeing Jesus first? And why does it still bother so many to have women be of equal spiritual authority – or indeed for women’s voices to be heard and perish the thought be as articulate as the men’s? Walking home from the play, and without wishing to spoil its ending, I was left with the feeling we still have some way to go.

The Lady Gaga concert threw up a number of thoughts. First things first, the sheer devotion and exuberance of the ‘monsters’: There is fandom and then then there is quasi-religion. She decrees on Twitter that snouts must be sported, and boom! Pig masks and stuffed pigs galore. She’s been seen with outré make-up of late and poof – many in the crowd rocking whitened faces and intentionally smeared lips and cheeks, artist’s canvas style; heck, even I joined in the fun and sported a turquoise rimmed eye, and my most difficult to wear in the whole world ankle boots, though sadly no minders to help me on and off the 31 bus! What was most on display, both in Lady Gaga herself and her fans was freedom. The cabaret chatter in between songs may have seemed indulgent to some, but there was honesty, a sense that here was a woman who felt entirely uncensored. If she wanted to dance about in a sparkly thong there was no=one to stop her; if she wanted to allude to an abusive relationship in one monologue, there was no one to muzzle her.

The reviews of the show have been interesting to note because even in the largely secular world of the media there is a similar thing going on as there is in the play Pope Joan: an innate instinct to diminish a strong woman. Whether you want to wear a cassock to work or a couple of conch shells for a bra, these are still challenging times for women who ignite debate, lead, have a devoted following, or just dare to be a little bit different. The good news is Jesus loves us all; even if the Judgment Police are alive and well and sometimes closer than you think. 

Are We Really Being Thrown to the Lions?

 
Rowan Williams, former  Archbishop of Canterbury now Master Magdalene College, Cambridge has urged Christos in the west to grow-up and stop complaining about being ‘persecuted’. For deets, check out the link here: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/religion/10244716/Persecuted-British-Christians-need-to-grow-up-says-former-Archbishop-Rowan-Williams.html

In comments made at the Edinburgh International Book Fair he said that being mocked or trivialised in the media is in no way comparable to the life or death threats to those living in other parts of the world. To an extent he is right; one can hardly compare an eye-roll from a colleague when you share that you follow a faith to a gun placed on your temple if a bible is found in your home, as is the case in some parts of the world.

However,  what a lot of Christians who feel they are persecuted are bothered about is not only the relative speed in which the volte-face from respected faith to one that is attacked relentlessly has come in the West but also the perception that those of other faiths are somewhat ‘protected’ as to attack them might be perceived as un-PC at best, downright racist at worst. Pick up a newspaper, especially one with a liberal leaning and with the exception of the Celeb Christo status currently afforded Pope Francis, the rest  of us are  seen as cartoon cut-out stereotypes. Be it raving bigots (see gay marriage and/or women bishops dramas), irrational nut-jobs (see the on-going Creationism debates) or simply daft, dangerous and on the way to extinction (see anything written by the New Atheists and their merry band of acolytes – funny how for a group so against organised belief structures and champions of free-thinking and individual thought, they are quite an organised, zealous and singular band of believers themselves, but I digress). However,  the stereotypes are not  entirely true: and yet they stick, and form a basis for hostility, hence the feeling of persecution.

To be a Christian is at its drill down to the essentials essence, to accept Jesus Christ as Lord and Saviour, desire a relationship with him and believe in his divinity. The rest;  be it seven sacraments or two, stained glass windows or none, dance-offs in the aisles or contemplative silence is table dressing. And whilst I am not for a moment claiming that there aren’t heated debates and differences between the ‘conservative’ and ‘liberal’ wings within the faith, the media does come across as a bit heavy handed in its attempt to describe us as a homogenous and intolerant group, desperately trying to cling to relevance whilst facing falling figures in the pews  and ambivalence amongst the young.

But if we are persecuted is it really such a bad thing?

“Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me.” Matthew5:11

Whilst it doesn’t feel like  a pop the champagne moment when you are persecuted, Jesus does say we are blessed because of it. To be a Christian has always been to be tangibly different. Why else, the analogies Jesus uses such as ‘salt and light’? Furthermore, difference by its very nature is often questioned and commented on and sometimes difference solicits fear, mockery and even contempt. And whilst yes, a generation or two ago it would be safe to assume that the majority around you would be rocking up to a Sunday service, it doesn’t diminish the veracity of what those of us who do continue to believe in, despite what the popular consensus is.  Being a picked-on group in the 21^st century is actually a bit of a boon. It’s an opportunity to be counter-cultural, edgy, dare I type it, cool. Because here is the thing, when everyone gets bored of cynicism, self-hatred ,  addictions,  mendacity,  aggression, consumerism  and solipsism as a way of life; in we enter stage left with:

“… love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness,  gentleness and self-control.” Galatians 5:22-23

So instead of grumbling about not being in the ascendancy we should revel in the current situation. After all, everyone loves an under-dog and they have a surprising knack of actually winning

The Parable of the Caravan and the Suitcase filled with Fish and Fizz

I have always been a Christo, recently I heard a new term for it, ‘Cradle Christian’ (yes, I think it sounds faintly ridiculous too), but like anyone who has been in a relationship for a very long time will attest, my enthusiasm can be very much of the peak and trough variety. Sometimes I’m having a mountain-top moment, at other times an experience more akin with the Other Place.

Last week gave me the perfect opportunities to not only re-connect with God, but also to do a little bit of a re-launch for CCC too.  I joined a few thousand on fire for the Lord types at my church, HTB’s annual holiday, Focus. Keen readers of this blog, will know that last year I was a novice in a field, with a tent I had never put up before and just some Taittinger for company. What a difference a year makes. This year I was in a caravan, already feeling the proverbial ‘overflow’ because hot running water and bedding that wasn’t on the ground were now the order of the day. The only element of adventure was sharing with seven other ladies, only three of whom I knew before. Because we were all sweet Christo types there was never a tussle for the only longish mirror and the curling irons and ensembles seemed to be happily shared by all; perhaps channelling the words of Luke:

“…Anyone who has two shirts should share with the one who has none and anyone who has food should do the same” Luke 3:11

The restricted space in the caravan showed me how a communality of purpose could make even the most cramped environment a haven for all of us and a place where friendships would inevitably deepen. 

So onto the suitcase: before Focus, I knew both CCC as a blog and as an event had been a little quiet. In fact, far too quiet. Where in the past there had been thought provoking discussions and even the occasional conversion, there was now just the odd post, and certainly no elegant evangelist soirees to invite a friend to either to be encouraged more in their faith or talk about having one at all. As in all the best miracles.com stories, resources for the CCC reboot were scarce. I hadn’t been paid yet, yet I was convicted to do The Wedding at Cana meets the Feeding of the 5000 as a food theme, despite the lack of abundant funds (for recipes see gastrotastic.com). Debit card in hand, and with my nephew on co-shopper duties, we missioned it to the 24 hours Sainsbury’s on Ladbroke Grove at around 10pm, not only miracles.com but lastminute.com too! As God would have it, a friendly manager extended the offer on Prosecco to me (it had technically finished) and we ran around, mad March hare styles picking up Smoked Salmon, Tuna, Sardines and Lumpfish Caviar (next year it will be Sevruga), and assorted ingredients to make a feast that Jesus himself would find delish. The end result was a crowd gathered outside our caravan for a soiree, and though there was a torrential downpour and we were forced to squeeze indoors, something God breathed was revitalised:

“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.” Isaiah 43:18-19

So what to expect from Cool, Chic and in Christ, delicious canapés and cocktails aside? Well, articles, an interactive site (rebuild in process), small and large events and a space online where you can discuss all things Jesus related without fear of condemnation. I do not know where the journey will end, but I am definitely up for all the twists and turns, so please feel free to join me. 

Party-On Church!

Today is the church’s birthday. Are you feeling especially celebratory and excited about the gifts on offer? Rocking an outfit that is even better than normal Sunday Best? Expecting to partake in some cake and champagne? Do balloons attached to every feasible corner and music so on point that it precipitates dancing seem part of the plan? Are those we consider our nearest and dearest present and correct to join in the festivities? I ask all of this as we would expect all of the above and perhaps a little more at a regular birthday party (I am dwelling on this subject even more as my own birthday is coming up this week!), but sometimes the celebration at the centre of Pentecost seems to have been replaced with an energy that seems more akin to commemoration. Looking at the passage that marks this occasion, I am not only struck by just how dramatic the arrival of the Holy Spirit was but also how it is the ultimate game changer:

“When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them.” Acts 2:1-4

If we take this passage apart verse for verse there is a lot to consider for the modern church and indeed the perfect birthday party. Firstly, all the disciples had gathered together in the one place. Unity in location and a decision to be in the one place at the same time often brings about communality of purpose. When someone we love can’t make it to our own special gatherings, we often feel the pang of their absence, and as for the rest of the guests who do turn up there is a clear reason and intention in the gathering. Second, no party is truly memorable without a dramatic entrance. I was once carried into a party because the train of my dress was so long and the ground from car to venue was muddy (yes, I know de trop for sure!), and in this passage we hear of the Holy Spirit arriving like a violent wind and filling the space that the disciples were sitting in. Whilst at home pyrotechnics are best left to the professionals, the fire imagery in the passage sets the scene for what happens next, the gift of tongues received by ‘each of them.’

You see, at a birthday party run by our Lord and Saviour, everyone receives a gift, there are no favourites. What is also significant is that each ‘began to speak…as the Spirit enabled them.’ I get particularly excited by this verse as it points to each individual being different, but because we are all directed by the Spirit, united in the same course. Sometimes, churches can get caught up on what they present rather than who they represent. I have had varied responses when I tell other Christians that I go to HTB: with some thinking it some sort of It Church, filled with a rich, media savvy, beautiful people heavy congregation intent on global domination via the Alpha Course, while others choosing to see that the successes achieved at HTB are a reflection of the passage above as God helps a part of His church grow ‘as the Spirit enabled them.’

So, today, more than any day, we should all have a think about what the church stands for, and how we can make it more of a reflection of this passage. It is about being like a gust of wind that fills a room. When Christians gather together, the atmosphere needs to change distinctly. The Holy Spirit, our Counsellor, who Jesus has given us should be setting the agenda of what is occurring and we should all be terribly excited about the gifts that Jesus has decided to bestow on each of us.

On that note, I am off to have a think about my party ensemble for evensong and what a privilege it is to be part of God’s multifarious family. It takes all sorts to change a generation.

A Different Life

Have you ever wished that you had done things a little differently? Ever felt that your timing was a bit off? Perhaps when you review past decisions you may think "If only I had -" and then stop yourself because you think, "well, I didn’t and now look!" I have to say, that I have done this often. It can start with something random such as ‘If only I had purchased two pairs of the Gucci midi heel block sandal in the days when I could afford to, as now they’re back, back, back in vogue and I cannot find my original pair.” to “If only I had bought a flat when bank managers didn’t laugh out loud at the prospect of handing over a fat mortgage to freelancers like me, who seemingly want to live the dream in sunny West London.” Perhaps there are other things you might feel you have left it too late to have in your life: children, a spouse, a rewarding career. Or maybe, you feel that yours is a life that is beyond restoration: your health may have deteriorated seriously or you may have lost a loved one. Maybe your own selection of poor choices has landed you at an emotional or financial crisis point. Here is the good news to said scenarios: Christ is risen.  How does that have anything to do with all of the above? Everything.

When the women came on the third day to embalm Jesus body, they found the tomb stone rolled open and an angel of the Lord declaring this:

“Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, he has risen!” Remember how he told you, while he was still with you in Galilee: ‘The Son of Man must be delivered over to the hands of sinners, be crucified and on the third day be raised again.’” Then they remembered his words.” Luke 24:6-8

I love both the beginning of this passage: “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, he has risen!” and its close: “Then they remembered his words.”  In both of those statements are signposts to that different life, a life resurrected. When we choose to rake over our past misdemeanours and mistakes, we like the women, are looking for life in the dead things. This is not to say that we should brush over our past, it does and continues to inform us, but it is not the whole story. Likewise when the women: ‘remembered his words.’ they realised that Jesus had been promising to do exactly what he did, rise on the third day.  And yet they had gone to the tomb, expecting the exact opposite, to embalm his dead body.

It got me thinking, how so many of us, particularly if we have been believers for some time, forget one of the central promises of our faith: a new life, one that is not only eternal in its nature as it continues forever with God the Father in Heaven, but also new in the here and now. Jesus died on the cross so that nothing could separate us from God but he rose from the dead, so we could live abundantly in that knowledge. Whether you’re reading this and you’re in your teens or in your nineties, today is actually the first day of your life anew. Whatever happened in the past or is currently happening is altered forever in the simple phrase Christ is Risen. Happy Easter – and for those who like me have been fasting, enjoy the Paschal Lamb chow down, you can see what I’m eating a little later on my other blog, www.gastrotastic.com! 

Forsaken For Our Salvation

A friend of mine, not at all religious once said that how could there be anything ‘good’ about celebrating the long and painful death of someone else? She even commented how the wearing of crosses was pretty gruesome too; likening them to wearing an electric chair pendant on a delicate chain to commemorate those who had died by that method. In some ways she is right – if the story ended with Jesus’ death then it would be both morbid to rock a cross and a little deranged to think that the death of an innocent man some two thousand years ago was good. But as believers gather in churches to walk the Stations of the Cross and meditate on Christ’s Passion, we see the central tenet of our faith expressed: God granting us salvation via the incredible route of his son being forsaken:

“My God, My God why have you forsaken me?” Matthew 27:46

Putting aside the theological arguments as to the necessary separation of Father and Son as the Son took on all the sins of humanity on Calvary, there is something very moving about these words of Jesus. He sounds vulnerable, weak and desperate. He sounds human. It is so easy in the midst of all the miracles, healings, insightful teaching and intellectual jousting with Pharisees that preceded Jesus’ crucifixion to forget his humanity. At this point in the story, Good Friday, Jesus is pretty much abandoned. His disciples were the first to ditch him, one of their own, Judas, doing the actual betraying, and Peter, most loyal of all, denying him thrice. The crowd picked Barrabas over him for freedom, conveniently forgetting any of the signs and wonders they may have witnessed or come to hear about and the Roman soldiers had mocked him and made him walk with the very instrument of his death strapped to his back.  And all this he did for us, whether we choose to believe or not.

Of course, the story does not end here, on the third day Jesus rose and it is at this point the cross my friend dismissed as a macabre item becomes one of triumph. The very instrument of death becomes the way to life eternal. Furthermore, it is also an encouragement to us all, as those short words show, even God’s son felt forsaken at one point, only to be resurrected on the third day.

The crosses we bear in our own lives might seem too heavy. We might have journeyed with tragedies, hardship, betrayal and disappointments for more miles than we would care to mention. Maybe like Jesus, all of our loved ones faded to black when the going got tough. Or we find ourselves at odds with the ‘in crowd’ and mocked and jeered or falsely accused. To all of us, I declare this Friday very good indeed. The cross we bear, like the one Jesus did is momentary even when it seems the opposite. Our true state, like his, is in the bosom of God the father and it is one filled with victory, rejoicing and salvation. And to Jesus I say thank you for getting us all a seat at the top table, it cost you much, but you chose to share.

Lenten Flavours

It is fair to say that I am a person of extreme appetites. I am either really into something or not at all. For the things that I love anticipation can be as much of a buzz as the experience itself. The restaurant menu with its promise of delicacies I can’t prepare myself, the runway-show edit in a glossy magazine of clothes that won’t be in store for six months, even the 30 second pre-listen offered on iTunes ahead of purchasing that key track can all send me into a heightened sense of excitement. “Oh, I can’t wait!” I will internally scream as I consider just how pleasurable said experience will be.

This year, I decided to do Lent with a mediaeval flavour and go for a full-on Lenten Fast. Okay, so I haven’t opted for the sackcloth, although there has definitely  been a dearth of colour in my sartorial choices of late, but the whole no chow-down at all until 6pm has tested me in many ways.

My decision this year stemmed from two reasons; the first was that I wanted to do a fast where I had an attitudinal shift in terms of my expectation from God. The Prophet Isaiah puts it better:

“Why have we fasted, they say, “and you have not seen it? Why have we humbled ourselves, and you have not noticed.” Isaiah 58:3

When we do something that outwardly looks terribly pious, it is so easy to expect JC to give us a Gold Star, perhaps even make us Teacher’s (or should that read Rabbi’s?) pet. At the very least answer our pleas that accompany said fast, or make sure that others be they in the church or outside it are suitably impressed by our spiritual sinew. Whilst I do not wish to diminish outward observances or indeed expectation in supplications, there is a danger that one’s focus can get skewed. When we choose to moan when we don’t quite get the answer we expected or the response from an omnipotent God , we defeat the point of a fast or any outward observances of a believer. It turns our relationship with God into one of expediency  - where we’re only in it for what we can guarantee we will get. This year has been tough, as once I took away the expectation that the result of the fast would be either an intense spiritual experience a la my favourite all time mystic Hildegard of Bingen or better yet some BIG  prayers answered, I had to find a different focus to understand why I was choosing to have a month and a half of diminished consumption.

“I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry and whoever believes in me will never go thirsty.” John 6:35

The food we eat can only sustain us in a most basic of ways.  Fasting has shown me how on a normal day I use food both to punctuate the hours (time for a snack, a cup of tea, another snack) and also assuage feelings (Feeling rubbish? Time for a cheese board, washed down by a decent bottle of red). When you fast, you are left with nowhere to turn. Except to the Lord. Without  the distraction of food, you have more time to spend in prayer or contemplation. Lunch hours have become an hour spent in a pretty church in the City rather than in the queue for the latest it-food truck’s offerings. And as for those feelings, the ones we sometimes spend forever and a day running away from, you are forced to bring them to the Lord, feed on His word and seek a satisfaction that goes beyond the body or mind’s concerns and reaches the Spirit.