Goths, grungers and emos

Last night, as part of our local street pastor training, we had a fascinating illustrated talk about the dress code, attitude, musical taste and preferred drugs of various youth cultures. Namely, hip-hop; gangsta; punk; BMX-er; skateboarder; goth; grunge; metalhead; emo and chav. On the one hand, it opened my eyes to the issues we encounter amongst some of the youngsters we meet on a Friday night patrol. On the other hand I found some of the attitudes alien and depressing. How can the gospel of Jesus get through to such people? How can such sub-cultures be redeemed? Is there any way they can become an expression of the Christian faith? Can they take on board the Christian ethos whilst maintaining their own unique characteristics?

I am used to the concept that the kingdom of God has room for many kinds of sub-cultures - elderly high church Anglicans, black Pentecostals, conservative evangelical students, earnest environmental activists, sportspersons, bikers, politicians etc. etc. Is there room for Christian metalheads or Christian goths or Christian emos? Maybe God is more open and welcoming than we imagine.

One thing I do know is that it is too easy to look down on such people because I feel I am better than they are. The talk ended with a paragraph which sounded strangely familiar:

"The street pastor struck up a pose and prayed to the Lord, 'I thank you that I am not like that goth / grunger / emo / chav. I give my time generously and patrol the streets every Friday.'"

A dawn sky to lift the spirits

The temptation is strong to list all the things I have been doing over the last ten days. Suffice it to say I have been lacking the time (and motivation too if I'm honest) to maintain my online spiritual journal.

Another temptation is to describe my current status in terms of work. OK, that's a temptation I can't resist, but I'll keep it brief: Yesterday (Sunday) lunchtime we set off for Macclesfield to spend a few days with our son. My next 'work' commitment is on Thursday evening, so I have three clear days to enjoy the company of wife, son and dog. Except that there are three events on Friday and Sunday which I have not begun to prepare for, plus a few major issues that I need to keep on top of. The wonderful thing about the internet is that I can work away from home. The problem about the internet is that I can't escape work even when I leave home. Anyway, nil desperandum. I reckon an hour or two focused work each day will see me through and still leave plenty of room to enjoy life.

The plain fact is that I cannot identify offhand any significant spiritual moments in recent days. The closest I can come up with is the beautiful red sky, accompanied by a randomly chosen MP3 track which superbly complemented the mood, which lifted my spirits as I set off to buy the morning paper. Thanks, Lord, for simple reminders of your glory. Oh yes - there was also the great family hilarity last night produced by (surprisingly considering self and wife have little car interest) an episode of Top Gear. In fact, come to think of it, life is full of wonderful and exciting moments. I just don't normally stop to recall them.

"What is that to you? You must follow me."

Last night I led a discussion on the Apostles' Creed for one of our house fellowships. It was interesting to hear such a variety of views expressed during the course of the evening. For example:

• God cannot be all-powerful (given the presence of suffering)
• Human beings have created the concept of God
• Jews, Christians and Muslims believe in the same God but take different paths up the mountain
• The virgin birth is irrelevant; Jesus was the son of Joseph
• No-one believes in hell these days
• If God created everything he must have created evil as well as good
• You can believe in a spiritual realm where you go after death without necessarily believing in God

OK, so I'm being very selective here. There were some more orthodox Christian views put forward too. But how did I react to all this?

As a reasonably evangelical Christian, I am disappointed that some of my congregation hold a radically different Christian belief to mine. As a world-weary cynic, I am unsurprised by all this and rather intrigued by the range of angles from which people approach their faith. As the minister of this group of people, I am able to take it all in my stride and not be shocked by it. As an intellectual who has recently been wrestling with some of the big questions raised by Richard Dawkins, I find myself sharing the doubts and struggles of others.

One big question is how you can believe in an all-powerful loving God who apparently allows tremendous suffering. Now I need to choose my next words carefully lest I sound horribly selfish and callous. It has occurred to me this morning that whilst I sympathise with the suffering of others and would want to do what I can to help them, I do not suffer greatly myself. Whilst I would find it difficult to say to someone else, "simply trust God and you'll be OK" (because surely there are thousands who have trusted God and whose lives are far from OK), the fact is that whenever I have put my trust in God, he has not let me down.

What I'm saying is that when I look at how other people struggle to reconcile their faith and their suffering, I find I share their doubts. (In passing, I ought to note that there do exist many who have not only reconciled their faith to their suffering but have in the process become shining examples of what it is to be a Christian.) When P said last night that she couldn't see how God can be all-powerful I understood what she meant. But when I look at my own life and experience I find it difficult to think of an occasion when suffering really rocked my faith. Maybe it's because my level of suffering has always been low. Maybe it's because my faith has never been truly tested. Whatever the reason, my experience of God has been good. Why then, should I allow other people's experiences to disturb my relationship with God?

As Jesus once said to Peter when he showed curiosity over another disciple, "What is that to you? You must follow me."

Can our prayers change God's mind?

There are two points of view which make prayer a pointless exercise.

1. God never interferes with the world as we know it, but expects us to manage it ourselves.
2. God has the whole of life planned out for us. Everything is fore-ordained and everything happens according to his predetermined will.

If we believe that God has no control over events, or if he has absolute control over events, then why bother to pray? Either he can't do anything to help, or he has already decided what is going to happen and our prayers are not going to make any difference.

(A short pause to clarify the meaning of the words I am using. By prayer, I mean specifically requests for certain things to happen. By pointless, I mean that our prayers have no effect on the world around us. I acknowledge that there are many other kinds of prayer than mere requests. I also acknowledge that prayer is never entirely pointless because it changes the way we think and act. But for the scope of this particular post, I am exploring the question "Does prayer make things happen?" and the related question "Can our prayers change God's mind?")

My own view is that God has considerable control over the world. He can and does interfere. But he has chosen to withdraw his control from certain aspects of life to make room for human freedom. We too can and do have an impact on the world by the choices we make. God may well have broad overall plans for the life and future of the world, but he doesn't dictate every detail of our existence. Therefore God's plans have to be flexible. As an illustration, I decide it's time to let our dog out into the garden. I stand by the door and call her, but she doesn't come. So I don't open the door as I intended. I decide to try again in half an hour. My plans are flexible. In fact, this is the way we interact with each other all the time. We have our plans but they are constantly being adjusted in the face of what other people choose to say or do. If the plans are particularly important to us we may not want to adjust them very much, but we still have to adjust. (For example my plan to 'open the back door for the dog' becomes 'go and drag her out of bed and give her a push out of the door'.)

Similarly God must be constantly revising the way he interacts with the world to take into account the varied choices and actions of its inhabitants. If the situation changes, his response to it will change. A situation in which I am not praying about a particular issue is different from a situation in which I am praying about that issue. And a situation in which I am praying desperately about the issue and persuading others to join me in prayer is different again. It therefore ought to be no surprise if God reacts differently to these three situations.

In other words, I believe our prayers can change God's mind. The very fact that we pray introduces a new factor into the situation. Maybe this will be enough for God to review his plans and respond accordingly. Maybe not. But I don't believe prayer is pointless.

With that in mind: Lord, I pray that our joint circuit meeting tonight will lead to a closer union of our two circuits and to a clear decision about the staffing of the new circuit. There are so many issues and strong feelings around, that the meeting has the potential to drive us apart rather than bring us together. Lord, may we be able to share all our concerns openly and honestly, but may we then come to a common mind on how we believe you are leading us.

• The outcome: YES! Every prayer was answered in the affirmative. The meeting concluded with a unanimous vote. (The only dissenting votewas an email from someone who couldn't be present.)

The clouds ye so much dread...

The third verse of God moves in a mysterious way runs as follows

• Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take,
• The clouds ye so much dread
• Are big with mercy, and shall break
• In blessings on your head.

I've just found the truth of that. Two phone calls which I've been putting off for several days because I expected them to be difficult and upsetting have both turned out to be friendly and far less disturbing than I imagined.

I'm very good at delaying doing the things I don't like. It's far more satisfying just to get on and do them. If they turn out to be bad at least they are in the past, and if they turn out OK, then extending the period of worry is plain stupid.

Am I worthy of the sacrifice of others?

I've just finished preparing my talk for the Remembrance Day parade service. In it I will be reminding everyone of how much their current life and freedom depends on the sacrifice (in varying ways) of others - of parents, of those who fought in the world wars, and of Jesus.

One further thought occurs to me (which I won't include in tomorrow's service). I am in the fortunate position of being the minister in a generally trouble-free and active church. Life for me is pretty good at the moment. And this is in large part due to the goodwill extended to me by members of the local church and circuit. Many people are prepared to put themselves out to help me in practical and organisational ways. Many pray for me and offer friendship and support. And the 64,000 dollar question is "Do I live in a way worthy of their support and sacrifice?"

The honest answer has to be "Not nearly as much as I should."

Rejoice! My lost diary is found!

I discovered yesterday evening, as I was gathering together what I needed for the church council, that my diary had gone missing. Admittedly, the data was recently synchronised with my laptop, so it's loss was more of an inconvenience than a disaster, but the hassle of replacing it and the security risk if it fell into the hands of some miscreant were preying on my mind for the first part of the morning. So it was with great delight and with gratitude for answered prayer that I discovered it had slipped down the side of the car seat.

Jesus - the life and soul of the party

I was reminded this morning that if the average person were to draw up an ideal guest list for people they wanted to come to a party, Jesus would probably not be included. This is a shame, because during his ministry he was widely known as 'Jesus, the party animal' (I paraphrase).

This has made me realise that I am currently carrying around in my mind the wrong picture of Jesus. I imagine him as a kind of life coach hovering over my shoulder making sure I am worthy in character and effective in ministry. This leads to the following:

1. I find the thought of spending time with Jesus (in prayer for example) something of a chore rather than a pleasure.
2. I am willing to put up with his presence (and indeed expect it) when I am working or engaged in any kind of Christian activity, but I ignore him when I want to relax or have a laugh.
3. The concepts of faith and work are becoming linked in my mind. For example, this supposedly spiritual journal is turning (like all my other attempts to keep a journal) into a record of how much or how little I am achieving.
4. I focus more on trying to please God than on simply enjoying God.
5. If this continues I will end up preaching a dry gospel of "knuckle down and behave yourself" instead of a living gospel of "Rejoice! Jesus loves you!"

So, I'm sorry, Lord, for neglecting your simple non-judgemental friendship. For what remains of the day, let's stick together and enjoy it, shall we?

Busy-ness leaves no room for guilt

The following situation is fairly typical.

• (a) I have a number of urgent and important tasks to perform. These are not scheduled events. The timing is my own responsibility, but the expectation of others is that I will be giving them some priority. Current examples include overseeing the process of circuit amalgamation especially regarding finance, staffing and mission; visiting fringe members; producing a church web site; visiting assorted groups to promote our parent and toddler service.
• (b) I have a day or two when the scheduled events leave little or no room for anything else. For example, Saturday consisted of a churches together prayer meeting, a coffee morning, an afternoon of street pastor training, a trip to the supermarket and an evening writing sermons. Sunday consisted of a morning service, an afternoon service for the bereaved followed by tea, and belatedly washing up our own Sunday lunch pots and pans. Admittedly the evening could have been usefully employed, but wasn't - unless you count a puzzle, a short walk and an episode of "House" as useful.

These two factors combine as follows. I have failed to do any of the tasks in paragraph (a), but I don't feel in the slightest guilty because I have been engaged in all the activities described in (b). What I need to realise is that "I've been busy" is not a good excuse for non-achievement. It is my responsibility to take enough control of my diary that I make time for the urgent and important unscheduled tasks. Either that, or I don't promise to do in the short term what I know I will not have time to do.