Another Sacred Place

I visited the All England Tennis Club last weekend, more popularly known as Wimbledon. And at the beginning of our tour, the guide advised that we could take photographs of whatever we wanted, and go just about anywhere, but we couldn't touch the grass. In fact, we weren't allowed within a metre of the grass. And we were warned that there were surveillance cameras and if we touched the grass we would be asked to leave the tour.

The reason? The grass is sacred. Well I guess it's more of a case of not wanting it damaged in any way, but the guide actually said, "to us, the grass is sacred."

What is sacred? The common dictionary definitions include

1. Dedicated to or set apart for the worship of a deity.

2. Worthy of religious veneration

3. Made or declared holy

4. Dedicated or devoted exclusively to a single use, purpose, or person

5. Worthy of respect; venerable.

6. Of or relating to religious objects, rites, or practices.

 

Yeah maybe they qualify under definition 4, as the main courts are ONLY used for the Wimbledon Tennis Championships each year - no one plays on that grass at any other time. And each year, the grass is ripped up and sown again from seed! You've got to respect that!

 

I wonder, what in your life is sacred?

Is It Any Wonder?

Dublin - a bar on just about every corner.

And a beggar on almost every street.

And a man or woman wrapped up in a sleeping bag at night in doorways all across the city.

A Sacred Place

One of the highlights of a weekend in Dublin was the journey to Glendalough in the Wicklow Mountains, and the Monastery of St Kevin.

Born in 498, he was reputed to at one point have lived a life of solitude for 7 years, perched on a perilous precipice, before establishing a community of prayer in this picturesque valley where two lakes meet. Legend has it he died aged 120!

At its peak, a thriving community developed around the monks and their churches and places of prayer, as lay people came to live amongst them and serve them. Little huts formed in a ring around these various small stone chapels, where the monks would spend the majority of their time.

This is what prayer can do. It draws people. It is powerful.

I felt I was in a sacred place; it was a place where prayers were uttered to God for century after century.

May we in our day create sacred places through our lives of prayer, places that draw people into a prayerful community.

Rare Breeds at Hadleigh Farm

I visited The Salvation Army's Hadleigh Farm this week. This was part of William Booth's 'In Darkest England and the Way Out' vision, to establish a farm colony. It operated for many years as a place for prisoners or recently released prisoners to work, learn skills and give them some meaningful to do to keep them out of trouble. It is a property of about 900 acres towards the south east of England.

These days it has over 200 people with intellectual disabilities who work there in a variety of fields, supported by a staff of 70 and 40 volunteers. Some do hospitality in the cafe, others learn skills in the kitchen, some in the carpentry shop or grounds maintenance or agriculture. (As an aside - it is also the site for the 2012 London Olympics Mountain Bike competition)

Also on site is a 'rare breeds centre' where sheep and goats and pigs and assorted other farm animals that are rare or endangered are cared for and bred. The photo above shows some Bagot goats who were quite friendly.

Rare Breeds - how appropriate on a number of levels. Firstly, I find it wonderful that The Army is playing a part in preserving God's creation. Appropriate too in relation to William Booth, and also The Salvation Army. I see William Booth as one of a kind, a rare breed, with enormous vision, and passion and drive and determination to match - and I don't think too many would argue that the whole Army is itself a 'rare breed'.

But it would be my prayer that every corps and mission centre would be a place for 'rare breeds' - rare in our holiness, rare in our devotion to prayer and spiritual growth, rare in our passion for the lost and our zeal to serve. Rare in the personalities of people who call our corps 'home'. Rare in our passion and drive and determination to see the Kingdom come.

Perhaps a sign over the door 'Rare Breeds Centre' might be taking things a bit far, but may it be a sign that hangs over the door of our hearts.

Sharing Joy

This is one of my favourite photos from a wonderful weekend. On Sunday, the officers of the ICO joined with The Salvation Army's Regent Hall corps for the day. In some respects, the highlight was when we marched from Oxford Street, about 200 Salvationists right through the busy city streets of London with police escort, marching to the beat of the drum as the band played, all the way to the Cenotaph at Whitehall for a Remembrance Day service, where only hours earlier the Queen and various politicans had laid wreaths. We sang, prayed and the Word was preached, as hundreds stood behind the barricades taking it all in. Then the march back, again a witness to tens of thousands of Londoners and visitors of the presence of The Salvation Army in London city.

But this photograph was taken in the morning, at Oxford Circus at the Open Air meeting. Again we marched, and people with cameras were catching the moment. The band played, people prayed, a short word was given. However this time, I was actually able to talk to people. And for these two characters, I was a witness to the presence of God.

We shared a few stories and a good laugh. Yes, evangelism can be light-hearted! No conversions. Couldn't even get them to come to the meeting. But we shared joy. We shared God. And you just can't do that while you're marching!!

Real Christian Art

I visited two cathedrals on Saturday. The first was St Stephen's in Nottingham, which was the church that William Booth, founder of The Salvation Army was christened in (hence, the reason for the visit). It was so beautifully ornate in side, and had some of the most wonderful Christian artworks, decorations, 14th century choir stalls - very beautiful.

Then to Coventry and the Coventry Cathedral, re-built after the old one was bombed and destroted in World War 2. A magnificent modern cathedral, breathtaking in it's structure and furnishing and stained glass and stunning sculptures and artworks.

I visited two cathedrals - but to me I didn't visit any churches.

A favourite author of mine, Mike Yaconelli puts it like this, "churches are not glistening cathedrals filled exclusively with beautiful Cinderellas. Churches are noisy rollicking madhouses, filled with yelping, dancing, odd people who follow the real Cinderella wherever he goes."

These cathedrals can be beautiful places of worship, and I enjoy worshipping in these surrounds from time to time, and God is present. But we know that the church is not the building, it's the people. And people make things complicated and messy, they leave fingerprints and spill cordial. They have warts and pimples and big hair and no hair and they can be loud and yeah sometimes really annoying.

Ss long as I live, my ambition is to continue to bring together a group of people who come as they are, with all their oddness and variety and colour, with their difference of opinion and different clothes and their own unique way of expressing themselves, who have their eyes fixed absolutely on Jesus, who are so filled with God's love that amidst the rollicking madhouse that happens when they come together the love and glory and light of Christ shines brilliantly bright.

Now that's art!

House of Prayer for People of Many Nations

My house will be called a house of prayer for people of many nations, said God in Isaiah.

Here is the room where we meet each day for our lectures, but also for many, many sessions of prayer, peoples of different nations and languages and cultures. All coming together as brothers and sisters in Christ.

This is the room where God is doing a work in me.

This is the place where God is filling me with love and joy and compassion, and ideas and drive and inspiration.

Here is where God is making me dangerous, with boldness and zeal and Holy fire. Beware when I return to Oz!

The General

What a privelege it's been to meet this woman. She led us in worship on Sunday, and spent the day chatting with us today (Tuesday) about servant leadership, spiritual authority, and answering questions about the Army and her vision and challenges.

She was inspiring, wise, but most of all, humble to the extreme. Very approachable and down to earth. It was truly a joy to have her share with us.

Uggs

Who would have thought that Ugg boots would become so trendy, even with their own shop amidst the high fashion labels of London?

No one really seems sure of the history of the name 'Ugg' and various theories are around. The owner of one company that has been making the boots since the late 1950s claims that he invented the name. He says that his inspiration came from his wife, who called the boots ugly.

It's a reminder that what one sees as ugly, another sees as beautiful or trendy or desirable.

But when it comes to human beings, there is one who never sees any of us as ugly - our Loving God. We were created in His image, and although our sin has made us to be 'ugly', God forgives us, looks on us as righteous, and loves the beauty in each of us.

May we learn to see each other through God's eyes.

Moving On

At the graveside of William and Catherine Booth - founders of The Salvation Army, at a place called Abney Park.

If you look at the background you'll see that there is a lot of foliage - nothing at all like the cemeterys I'm used to visiting. But this cemetery 'went broke' a number of years ago, and the local council now have control of and responsibility for the land, and it has been designated as a woodland. So the trees and bushes are just allowed to grow, and will eventually overtake the thousands of tombs and headstones - in fact most already have.

Some of my colleagues were shocked. A place of burial of such significant people - how could this be?

But you know, the more I read of the Booths, the more I'm persuaded that rather than have us spend time and energy on their graves, they'd prefer us to be spending our time and energy in the mission field. One day their grave will disappear under foliage. Let's pray and work to ensure that their legacy never disappears.

How Something Becomes A Museum

One of the enjoyable experiences of the previous weekend was my visit to the Birmingham Jewellery Quarter Museum. It was orginally a jewellery factory by the name of Smith and Peppers, founded late 1800s by a man and his uncle. The business then passed on to three Smith children of the next generation, Mr Tom, his brother Mr Eric and their sister, Miss Olive. None of these had children, and the three siblings ran the business for many, many years, until they were aged well into their 70s and early 80s. During that time, they continued to hold to the practices that had served them so well, manufacturing in the same way and style and with the same methods and machinery, with very little changing over the years.

It came to the point where they were unable to carry on the business any longer. They were too old, plus profits were decreasing due to cheaper labour available elsewhere, and because they had stuck with outdated practices and failed to bring the business up to modern manufacturing standards. With no children to pass the business on to, and no buyer to be found due to the antiquity of the factory, one Friday in 1981, at the usual closing time, they just locked the doors and left, unaware they would be leaving a time capsule for future generations.

The building was subsequently sold to the Birmingham City Council. It was several years before the doors were reopened, and the council employees discovered a virtual time capsule of jewellery production, and techniques, as well as more personal work life related items some dating back as far as 1899.

Tools were left strewn on benches; grubby overalls were hung on the coat hooks; and dirty teacups were abandoned alongside jars of marmite and jam on the shelf. Old ledger books and order books remained open on the desks.

Because in the eighty years before its closure little changed with the working practices or equipment used within the family-owned business, even the décor had more in common with early 20th century trends than a thriving business in the early 1980s, leaving an insight into the jewellery trade of the turn of the century.

It was fascinating. And as my great grandmother's family were all heavily involved in the jewellery trade, gave me a real insight into how their working lives would have been spent, and the lack of occupational health and safety measures!

It also served as a reminder, not just for business, but certainly for the church, that if we continue to hang on to the practices of the past, we will quickly become a museum.

Smith & Peppers never changed their product, and that product (gold jewellery) is still very much in demand. But where they failed was (a) not keeping up to date with advances in manufacturing, and (b) not developing a future generation for leadership.

We in the church can be guilty of the same. Our product is still attractive and 'saleable' (Jesus), but we must continue to move with the times, to explore new methods, to package and present our product in a way that appeals to generation after generation, in our mission, our evangelism and our worship. And we must continue to give young people a voice, and develop them as future leaders. If we don't, people will very soon wander through our abandoned church buildings as museums and reminders of the past.