De-Fluffing Hope

I worry that we've made 'hope' a fluffy word.

Us Christians have a really good habit of making things fluffy. There's a cheap refrain that echoes in churches: everything will be ok, because we have Jesus. Perhaps I'm being crass, but that's what I am hearing from a number of the teenagers I work with. They see the church being full of people who pretend that they have everything together in their nice happy lives. They see people whose hope is in Jesus, and so everything is magically going to be ok. 

So when those teenagers feel like everything is not ok, they feel like this 'hope' that Christians have is pretty unrealistic and fake. And I agree with them. We are often presenting such a cheap gospel that says believe in Jesus, and everything will work out. After all, Jesus rose again from the dead! We win! Right?

Erik Leafblad wrote an article entitled "God Loses". In it he says that too often we've seen the crucifixion as a means to an end. We jump to the resurrection, where everything is ok. Jesus wins, we win. He suggests that the point of the cross is not just to make resurrection happen, but to join us in our darkness, our pain and join in our cry "God, why have you forsaken me?". 

Both our church youth choirs sang the song "I Believe" on their tours this Summer. Every time it was sung, it moved me to tears. The lyrics come from words that were fond scratched on the walls of a cellar in Cologne, Germany where Jews hid from the Nazis:

I believe in the sun, even when it is not shining.

I believe in love, even when I do not feel it. 

I believe in God, even when He is silent.

listen to ‘I Believe - BUMC Jubi Choir’ on Audioboo

 This is hope. It is a gritty, honest hope, that persists even in the midst of piercing pain and darkness. This is the hope that I want our teenagers to know. It is the hope that I want to know. It is honest enough to confess when things suck, and when darkness is winning, yet bold enough to keep believing that life has indeed conquered over death, and resurrection will come to us and to our world. 

Let's stop holding out fluffy faith. Especially to our teenagers who feel hurt, abandoned and worthless. Resurrection will come, but maybe for a while they need to hang out in the darkness of the crucifixion, knowing that they are not alone, and that hope remains, because Jesus is there with them.

May we be vulnerable to confess imperfections, and the presence of darkness,
yet bold and courageous to believe to hope in the God who is making all things new.

Passing Over God

We are so familiar with the gospel story, that we may often miss the many emotions and symbolisms that it contains.

On reading Mark 14 this morning, I was reflecting on Jesus' last meal with his disciples before he is betrayed. They're preparing and celebrating the Passover, when Jesus makes the bold announcement, that one of those present at the table will betray him. The Passover is the meal eaten to remember and celebrate God's liberation of the Israelite people from Egypt, during which the first born children of Egypt were killed but the Lord passed over those whose homes were marked with the blood of the lamb on their doorposts. 

Familiar as we are with the story, we know that Jesus will be executed, his blood will flow, and we come to perceive him as the new Passover lamb. Just as the lamb was a symbol of the liberation of the Israelites, we view Jesus as the fulfilment of that symbol, as God taking up Godself the sins of the the created order. 

Making this connection, we then are not surprised that the betrayal and execution of Jesus happen at Passover. In fact we expect it to be this way. We see it as a positive thing, as ordained timing. God made it happen that way - right?

I wonder if we're missing some brutal irony here. Here at the Passover celebration, with the city filled with the religious elite, and the masses who had come to remember and celebrate God's redeeming action. It may have been perceived as a sacred and holy time, full of religious people, yet in the midst of all this religious action, God is in their midst, and is being readied for execution.

I'm writing from a Christian youth conference where thousands of young people are gathered to join together as a worshipping community. The campus is buzzing with activity and excitement. The hall is packed for worship, and full of energy. We call these "mountain top" experiences for our youth. It's a Passover celebration of sorts. Yet Mark 14 forces me to look closely, and to ask "where is God at work in our midst?". Because the story of the  "Last Supper" reveals to us that not only can religious activity miss God, but it can be active in God's crucifixion. A people celebrating God's past activity, who weren't in tune with what God was doing in the present. It's a damning judgement that may not be limited to the religious leaders in the gospel story. 

We are called to be a people who live not just in memorial to what God has done, but as citizens of a Kingdom which God is continuing to build.

May our eyes and ears be open to the Spirit of God.
May we know that God is both present, and active.
May we not be fooled by or into religious activity void of God's presence,
and may we boldly and courageously live as the Spirit leads.

"Rabbi, I want to see"

Jesus is walking along the road, a blind man lies at the side of the road calling to Jesus for help, Jesus heals him. It's easy to skim the story in Mark 10 as a standard story in one of the many miracle stories in the gospels. But could we be missing something...

Immediately before the story of Bartimaeus' healing (10:46-52), we have a story about 2 of the disciples, James and John (10:35-45). They approach Jesus with a request. 

It is helpful to know that the gospel of Mark can be broken into 3 movements, the first of which is Jesus' ministry in Galilee, chapters 1-10. It begins with Jesus' baptism, the calling of his first disciples and numerous miracles. The 12 men called to be Jesus' disciples have witnessed and participated in Jesus' ministry. They have seen the Kingdom of God, through the returning of sight to the blind, the feeding of the hungry, and the restoration of dignity to those who had been oppressed and dehumanised. In Jesus, God is making all things new. These 12 men have front row seats to the Kingdom of God, breaking-in before their very eyes. And Jesus is inviting them to join in.

So perhaps they're going to ask what's next? Maybe they've seen a group of people who have been oppressed and outcast, and they want to know what the Kingdom looks like for them? Or they want to be taught some more about what God's Kingdom looks like in Israel? 

Their request: "let one of us sit at your right and the other at your left in your glory."

The other 10 disciples weren't best pleased. Why? It could be that they were disgusted at the selfishness of James and John. It's probably just as reasonable to believe that they were just annoyed that they got their first. 

It is then that we have the story of blind Bartimaeus, lying on the side of the road crying out to Jesus. 

Jesus: "What do you want me to do for you?" 

Bartimaeus: "Rabbi, I want to see."

Jesus: "Go, your faith has healed you."

Could it be that Mark's story of Bartimaeus is related to the previous story? That he's gently nudging at something? Actually, maybe it's not all that subtle at all. 

We need our eyes opened. 

The Kingdom of God is unfolding before their very eyes. They've been invited to join Jesus in the Kingdom work of redemption and restoration. And they're still caught up in their own struggle for power and selfish gain. 

Sound familiar? We've been called as citizens of the Kingdom of God.
Too often we're busy building our own. 

Let us refuse to become numb to the Good News,

may we never become satisfied with serving ourselves,

and may our cry always be "Rabbi, I want to see".

Moving from Rigid Faith Formulas to Holistic Human-ness

This post was part of my academic classwork, and therefore the tones doesn't quite fit the tone of my usual posts.

"How do I measure success?"

Compelled by the divine call of the Spirit upon my life to reorient myself towards God, my passion is to lead and nurture young people in their own spiritual journeys. This is the call and commitment of my heart.

It is this question that plagues my mind. How do I know if I’m succeeding? To be sure there’s an element of pride to be wrestled with in this question, but beyond that, there are vital questions for youth ministry. How do we measure success? What constitutes spiritual growth?

For a long time our approaches to youth ministry have been shaped by models such as Fowler’s stages of faith development, which focuses on cognitive development and how an individual’s faith progresses as their ability to think changes. This highlights that what we’ve probably looked to a measure of faith is how well a young person understands and articulates the content of the Gospel. It is a matter of how effectively we transmit the commitments of our beliefs, values and doctrines to young people. 

The authors of The Reciprocating Self, propose a model of understanding what it means to be human, which changes how we might look at faith development. Grounded in Trinitarian theology, they view that the goal of being human is to become fully ‘reciprocating’ selves, able to give and receive love both in terms of the divine and human other. Spiritual growth then is not just in terms of cognitive commitments, but relates to the very human self. It is about becoming more fully who we were created to be in God’s image. 

While proponents of Fowler might argue that we are more fully able to love God and others through cognitive processes and choices, there are studies which link moral development more to processes of social interaction than to cognition. They show the necessity of memory storage in the formation of moral identity, despite the presence of cognitive ability.

They propose that spirituality does not unfold in a linear cognitive process, but it is developed in the interaction of biological, social, cultural and spiritual factors. Faith does not occur in stages, but rather in interactions of a person and context over time. Crucially, they conclude that there is not one path to spiritual maturation.

So how does this help me measure success in my ministry? It liberates me from thinking that there is a key or formula to follow which results in spiritual growth. Instead, it draws me to understanding that the goal of faith is not just a choice, decision or commitment, but rather it is to become fully human, loving God and loving others in reciprocity, in the image of the God who created us. My ministry then is not to call young people down a simple path, but it is to help guide them down the many paths along which they will travel, helping them to become fully human.

I fear not my brokenness

Something in me comes alive when I write. It's like I'm more fully able to explore and express my soul. Lately I've been making use of lots of silence and meditation, allowing my soul to be still and rest. However journalling allows me to connect with Christ in a very unique way. This is my first journal entry in at least 6 months. It's about one of my favourite topics: brokenness.

Life is beautiful, so full of joy, and yet so full of darkness. 

In humanity I see laughter, goodness and love, yet in those very same people I see selfishness, greed, hate and the capability to destroy. I know that I am good, that I am capable of love, building-up others, bestowing hope and joy, but I also know that I am all too capable of manipulating, hurting, ignoring and oppressing. In one instance I bring life, yet in another I bring death. I love purely, but also lust and thirst for self-gratification. I love freely, then place conditions. 

I am good, yet I am also wretched. 

Yet I fear not the darkness. Curse and resent it, yes. Mourn and long for freedom from it, of course. But fear it I don't when I stand in Christ. I fear not that it devalues me, for in Christ I am a son being transformed and changed. I know that my hope is not I, but Christ. I know that as Christ lives in me, I am being renewed. I know that though we often find ourselves in the darkness and hurt of the cross, that there is victory, life and resurrection. I feel it now, I experience it daily, yet at the same time it still seems so far off. There are days when I feel like a resurrected liberated man, and days when I feel like I am under the weight of all my sin, living in darkness.

But whether at the cross or at the empty tomb, it is not I, but Christ that is my hope. 

I long for the day when I, and all of creation experience fully the resurrection life. Until then, I confess daily my sinfulness. I face my brokenness, not dismissing it, but bringing it before Christ, knowing that we are beloved children who have all of His love, struggling each day to give ourselves fully in return.

I am a broken, sinful man. Far from being a judgement of condemnation, it helps me more fully understand who I am and why. 

Tonight I fell on my ass

I decided I needed to take a walk. So I walked around the church grounds where I live, and sat on the bleachers at the sports field. With Bon Iver's beautiful music in my ears, I sat and watched the sky. 

I saw one of the longest shooting stars I've ever seen. It struck me that I hadn't taken the time to look at the sky in a long time. I've never sat still enough, to just gaze at the beauty of the night sky. I had the urge to lie down on the grass and just watch, but I was wearing a white shirt and didn't want to get it dirty. 

I found a football in the middle of the field, and I began shooting at the goals. After a couple of sublime finishes, I lined myself up for a shot, and as I connected with the ball, my feet gave way beneath me in the soft ground, and I landed on my ass. 

It was 10:30pm, it was dark, and there was no-one else around, though I still had a quick look to make sure. Feeling a little embarrassed for myself, I quickly began to get up when I realised that since I was on the ground already, I should just lie there. And so I did. 

I lay and gazed at the night sky for 15 minutes. 

How seldom we allow ourselves the freedom to be still, and rest. We feel the constant need to be busy, to entertain ourselves, to be productive. We find tasks to keep ourselves from having nothing to do. We aimless wonder on Facebook looking for something to provide interest. 

Anything to avoid being alone.

I'm 23 and single, and honestly, despite many great friends, at times I feel immensely lonely. Sometimes I'll do anything to avoid facing that loneliness.

Tonight, as I lay in the middle of the field, I experienced a deep peace. A place to rest, and be alone, loneliness and brokenness embraced, rather than hidden or avoided. 

Sometimes it takes me to fall on my ass to take the space and silence, to just be at peace, to rest, and to be present, taking in the goodness of life, good music, the stars, the gentle breeze. And perhaps in the stillness, hear the whispers of my own heart, and the voice of another. 

"I want to leave a memory"

It was our Wednesday night Bible Study with a small group our Middleschool students, and we were looking at Jesus' final prayer before his crucifixion in John 17. We were sharing what our final pray would be like. Among some fairly standard answers, one of our girls said something so profound. "I want to have had an impact on people".

This 13 year old girl recognises something that many adults still don't get. Most adults "just want their kids to be happy". Now of course it's not wrong to want your kids to be happy, but it portrays the mindset of our world: the goal is happiness. 

I want to be happy. I want to have joy, to laugh, to experience life in all its fullness. But life in all its fullness also recognises the darkness that exists. It recognises that we can't and won't always be happy. It recognises that while we may be experiencing joy, others experience hurt, sometimes even as a result of our joy.

I'm not ok with living a life centred on myself, and my own happiness. And nor is this Middleschooler. We want to leave an impact on our world, that others will have been blessed because of us. Living that kind of life requires us to scrap that fluffy, self-centred mindset of personal mindset, to see our life as having more meaning than satisfying our own happiness. 

It reminds me of a beautiful song by JJ Heller, "When I Leave" from her album "Only Love Remains". Click here to listen.

Am I too busy chasing a temporary fortune
That my priorities get lost along the road
The seasons bring their moments
They linger for an instant
They never wait for you to pay the debts you owe

When I leave I want to leave a memory filled with love
The kind you don’t forget
When I go I want to be known
As one who lived with no regrets

If life is like a flower
Am I doing all that’s in my power
To leave a fragrance behind
It’s time to count my blessings
Forget about my savings account for a while

I want them to say
What a glorious day
She had so much to gain
But she gave it away
And I want them to see something different in me
And that I’m going to be free

Some glad morning when this life is over
I’ll fly away
To a home on God’s celestial shore
I’ll fly away
When I leave I want to leave a memory...

Worthy is the Lamb?

Ever had that moment when you really think about the words of the song you are singing?

We were standing in the final night of the camp, in the closing worship after the prayer and response time. The band were playing a song called "All We Have is Christ" (to which the words of the bridge are: "worthy is the Lamb, worthy is the Lamb, worthy is the Lamb who was slain".

Everything within me wants to raise my arms outstretched and belt out the words, because He IS worthy. He is the Saviour who came to save God's people not with the sword but with sacrifice. In humility and love he laid down his life for us, and in power he overcame death that could not hold him. He IS worthy.      

                      

Yet this was one of these moments. It's really easy for me to stand there during worship and cry out praise to Jesus. But what about the day before when I was updating my Twitter and unsure of whether or not I should tweet about what our camp was about. I was embarrassed about how I might be perceived I tweeted honestly. It's a silly, but really example. Is Jesus worthy? Is he worthy of me being unashamed of the life I live?      

                      

Is Jesus worthy of my time and attention daily? Is he worthy of me taking time to read the Bible and pray? Is Jesus worthy of me paying a cost, putting things on the line, to follow him and to hold out the hope of new life to others?     

                      

Jesus IS worthy. Fact. But there is also a decision that I have to make every day. IS he worthy? Worship in a retreat, during a session is safe. Singing those words there and then, is safe. Real worship occurs when I declare those words with my life and choices. 

Luke 9:23

New International Version (NIV)

 ²³ Then he said to them all: “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.

The Wolfpack

"Go and sit with them" one of our students dared me. Why on earth would I want to go and sit beside a small group of Middle School girls, in the middle of the school lunch room, at the risk of being arrested by the Sheriff, to sit with "The Wolfpack"?

Lunch rooms in the American schools that I've visited, are not a far cry from what I've seen in the movies. Cliques. And this was one clique that even if there were not teachers and a Sheriff standing by, that I would still be afraid of.      

                      

But he wouldn't leave me alone. He kept pestering me, as did the friends around him. "Go and make them Christian", to which I cringed, and replied "I'm not going to do that". 'Make them Christian' isn't really a desire of mine. In fact, it makes me want to vomit.     

                      

But what was in my heart was the desire to model to this student and his friends, that living out the love of Jesus means crossing boundaries, not to 'make them Christian', but because we are called to love others, as He first loved us.      

                      

So I plucked up the courage and sat with them for final few minutes of lunch. One literally ran to another table. The others were warm and talkative. I asked them about "the wolfpack". Their response? "Others just started calling us that".     

                      

As I drove away I reflected on how this little group of warm (and apparently terrified girls) sat at a table on their own with this label, not because they chose it, but because they were labelled.      

                      

Sometimes people choose labels, but often they are assigned. It breaks my heart when I think of the people who have been labelled, often by people who claim faith in Jesus, and of course, by myself also.     

                      

Goth. Geek. Gay. Freak. Loner. Skank.     

                      

Even within church and youth ministry, we easily box people up.      

                      

Sitting with "wolfpack" reminded me of how my love and friendship, and that of Jesus, is kept from many people because we put them in a box and built up barriers which stopped us from seeing them as they really are.  

Creating Spaces

My time with God this morning was altogether unremarkable. 

I woke up tired, not really all that excited about the day ahead. I ate my breakfast (Lucky Charms of course) on the sofa, and turned round to look at the prayer corner that my housemate had set up in our living room. I had been away for the weekend and had little space to spend in solitude, and in recent weeks my discipline of praying has been pretty irregular. 

So I dropped myself down at the prayer corner, and sat in silence for a while, read the final part of the book I had been reading, 1 Peter. There was no magic spark that suddenly gave me excitement and fuel for the day ahead. I barely managed to string together a thought or sentence to God. Altogether it was 15 or 20 minutes of very little. Seemingly altogether unremarkable.

Or at least that's how prayer can seem sometimes. You ask yourself the question, "what am I even doing here?", you wonder if God is listening or if you're just talking to yourself. Sometimes my prayer times are passionate, and I'm excited or moved deeply. Others like this morning, they are hard, and seem pointless.

I've been learning from a writer called Henri Nouwen. He talks about the discipline of creating space, solitude and silence in your day. This space is not necessarily about talking, or doing anything, but simply creating space to be before God. Whether or not we feel anything is not the point. Prayer is a discipline to create space where we open ourselves to God. We may not feel anything, or feel changed. Sometimes we will.

But God is not a "feel-good" tap to fill us with happiness. Sometimes, it will feel altogether unremarkable. We're creating spaces.

We Found Love

Rihanna's new single and the accompanying video have caught my attention recently. Not just because Belfast was chosen as the "hopeless place". Thanks for that luv. 

"We found love in a hopeless place". From the first time I heard the song it fascinated me. The video is bizarre, graphic and some have understandably found it a little disturbing, particularly in that it seems to glorify in particular drug use and an altogether pretty reckless lifestyle. Some would argue that the video is promoting and encouraging young people to engage in this lifestyle, others would say that she's simply reflecting the current culture amongst our young people.       

   

We cannot be naive as to place all responsibility on individuals like Rihanna, but it is also obvious that such figures have a huge influence on what young people view as acceptable or even beneficial.    

   

But I've been inspired by a fellow youth minister to look beyond the initial shock and opposition to the values of the video. Instead of choosing to reject the video outright, what is this telling me about our current culture? Is there a way to engage with what it?    

   

The video opens with a female voice, quiet, soft and broken...

"...you almost feel ashamed, that someone could be that important, that without them you feel like nothing.... you feel hopeless like nothing can save you. And when it's over and it's gone, you almost wish that you could have all that bad stuff back, so that you have the good." 

The video shows a messy, volatile relationship based on intense experiences, often involving risky or illegal activity. 2 young adults looking for a good time, and for love. It ends with Rihanna walking out on the relationship with her boyfriend lying on the floor either wasted or stoned. It would seem that eventually she gets fed up and walks out, knowing how unhealthy the relationship is, but the final scene brings us back to the start... is the bad stuff worth it, so that we can experience the good?   

   

What I experience watching this video, is a deep cry to experience real love. A deep desire to be connected to something, to someone. Even if that means taking risks and enduring the bad.   

   

Someone once commented on the AIDS crisis, that even in the glaring possibility of a deadly disease, people were willing to take that risk on to find and experience love.   

   

Our postmodern world emphasises experience, reflected in a rejection of traditional values and life patterns (eg. later marriage and child-birth). Yet this world though very different, still leaves us yearning for the experience of love, of intimacy.    

   

When we think of Jesus, we often think of church - clean, nice buildings full of nice people, in nice clothes. Very different images from what we see in this video. When we see videos like Rihanna's we often conclude that these are "unholy", "ungodly"... Often they make our hearts hard. Yet what challenges me, is that Jesus was found in these hopeless places. That the love and intimacy we yearn for, can be found in hopeless places, because that's often where Jesus was found: eating with tax collectors and sinners, talking to prostitutes.    

   

It's all too easy to comment on the glorification of drug use and sex in Rihanna's video. I could easily point out how she is leading the young people of our world astray. And I wouldn't be wrong. In fact it's important to be engaged in these discussions. But if that's all we do, then we lack the compassion and the courage of Jesus, who wasn't only interested in pointing out sin, but He saw beyond their behaviour and saw their hearts, their brokenness and their longing for love.   

   

When the young people I work with reflect the culture around them, my job is not to point out their sin and tell them to stop. Naming sin is important, but so much more than that, I long to  help them explore and navigate their world, to understand their and identify brokenness in contrast to the life and hope that Jesus brings.    

   

The whore, the tax collector, my friend Melanie, and myself. We found love in a hopeless place. Because Jesus doesn't just hang out in churches. 

Who are you?

What is your identity? What is my identity? Who am I? I'm a son. I'm a brother. I'm Northern Irish. A citizen of the UK. I'm a male. I'm white. I'm a Christian. I'm a member of the Presbyterian Church. I'm a youth minister.  

These are all part of my identity. Yet they don't satisfy me. To me they all seem fragile, and all temporary. I am what they call "a people person". I consider that to be part of my identity. It comes closer to satisfying me, because it speaks of who I really am. It speaks of something more than just labels and categories. Yet even then I ask myself, why am I a people person? How did I get this way? Am I simply a product of my past, of situations and influences?  

In preparing to speak to a group of Christians at Brentwood High School this morning, I realised something that was at the heart of my decision to follow Jesus. In fact that phrase doesn't satisfy what truly happened when I was 12. I wasn't just deciding to follow Jesus, I was giving my life to Jesus. I feel uncomfortable using that phrase because it's seen as religious cliche, but to put it any other way would be to dumb down the significance of that encounter with Jesus. His love displayed in its fullness on the cross, the giving of His life as a display of love, compelled me to do the same in return. I remember praying those words, that I wanted to give my life to Him because He gave His for mine. I can't remember if I knew the verse at the time, but I was praying 1 Corinthians 6:19/20:

"you are not your own... you have been bought at a price"

I believe that this changed my life, because it shifted my identity from flags, characteristics, sports, talents and labels, to something much greater and much more satisfying. My identity is in Jesus.   

Why is that significant? Because my deepest desire is to know who I truly am. And the labels, the categories and even the characteristics, only portray a limited and restricted perspective. They are all bound within the limits of time. But in Jesus, I understand that I have a purpose, and an existence beyond the limits of time. In Jesus I understand that I was created by a God, and that He wants to interact with me. In Jesus I understand my brokenness, and that I live in a broken world. In Jesus I understand that I was meant to experience life in its fullness. In Jesus I understand that I am worth dying for.   

Of all the earthly labels that I have, I think 2 of the most dangerous are probably "Christian" and "youth minister". They are the 2 that most regularly lead me from what my true identity is. Sometimes I deceive myself thinking that these labels mean that I'm sorted. When I'm satisfied by these labels, I'm distracted from my daily need and desire to be satisfied by the living Jesus. Like John 15 describes, life flows from the vine, and if we disconnect ourselves from it, we wither and die.   

You are not your own, you were bought at a price.   

It's an identity that satisfies my deepest longing. It's in Jesus.

Hillsong United: critiquing my cynicism

I'm not the biggest Hillsong fan. Despite not particularly liking some of their music and being skeptical about money-making, I visited Hillsong London a few years back and was pretty disgusted by the production that was worthy of the theatre in which the Church met. So when the Church I'm now serving in decided to take it's ministry team leaders and invited me, I was interested to see what I would think.       
                      
If I was going to a Third Day show, I'd have no problem. They are a Christian band, playing Christian, but not necessarily 'praise' music. There is a worship element to the show, but it's not a 'worship concert'. It's their show, they are a band, lights, noise and typical gig-features are no problem to me. The same would apply to Dave Crowder. Hillsong United are a praise band, playing what they promote as a 'worship concert'. Immediately I am skeptical. Why do they need lights, and all the fancy gig-features?       

                      

So completely aware of my skepticism I decided to keep an open mind. So here's my thoughts...

• Superficial worship: Worship at a Hillsong United show is no more, no less superficial than worship at a traditional church service. In both, you can appear to be a faithful worshipper when in fact you are just going through the motions. In both situations what matters is whether you are truly engaged in genuine worship of Jesus. In both you can 'experience' worship and leave no different. 
• Message: Hillsong United clearly on at least 4 occasions made the above point clear. They very clearly expressed that they 'glitz and glam' was not important, but what was important was that Jesus be made the centre. I can remember the crowd being addressed at length on at least 3 occasions with clear Gospel messages, including an invitation to follow Christ, after which they strongly encouraged new believers to 1) tell someone 2) get a Bible, and actually read it, and 3) to join a church, and BE the Church. 
• False motives: Can the above be showy, saying the right things, reinforcing the Christian culture? Is it possible that is just part of their performance? Absolutely. It is completely possible. Yet it was Gospel truth. There was very little, if any that I disagreed with. From what I can tell, their hearts were very genuine, but who am I to tell the state of their hearts? What I do know is that in Corinthians Paul referred to individuals who were preaching the Gospel out for selfish reasons, but it was still the Gospel. 
• Raising hands: From the first note, dozens of hands were lifted to the air. I raise my hands in the air in an expression of worship, yet as someone who does, I still can't help be skeptical about how much of it is genuine worship. I watched some young teens lifting their hands and looking very obviously like they just wanted to be involved. Yet I concluded 2 things. Firstly, it's still a gig, and at gigs, I lift my hands. I don't know why I do, but I do. It's what you do at gigs. And if at a Hillsong United gig someone lifts their hands, and it's not worship, but an enjoyment of the 'gig-experience', then who cares? Secondly, I think it's great that those young teens I saw were in an environment where they could experiment with expressions of worship, whether they knew why or not. I think it's perfectly healthy for them to be exposed to a new expression. 
• Lyrics: "So take me as you find me, all my fears and failures, fill my life again". There are some truly cracking lyrics within Hillsong United material. 

So my conclusion... Hillsong United is still not completely my cup of tea, particularly their high-tempo songs. I love their slow-tempo songs, and particularly those with the rich lyrics. But I think I am more open to their expression, their lights, and their style. I believe that I diminish the beauty of the diversity of arts, expressions of worship, and personalities when I write off one something like Hillsong United.        

                      

The dangers are clear: worship becomes an emotion; it needs light, cool visuals and a cool band; 'true' passionate worship involves raising your hands. Yet the same dangers apply to a traditional church: worship becomes a ritual; it requires a certain style and approach.        

                      

I left the show last night pleasantly surprised at my openness. Look at me go. What truly matters is that we are engaged in honest worship of Jesus, and that when the last note is played, and we leave the arena or the church, that the worship of Jesus is expressed in our lives, a point that Hillsong United themselves made very clear. 

We R Who We R - Ke$ha wisdom to live by...?

I couldn't stand the song when it came out. How could this talentless girl shoot to fame and the charts when she can't even really sing! There are girls in our Church who are much more talented, why has popular music become so full of rubbish?! And who puts a dollar symbol in their name?! But of course in a show of defiance the girls kept singing and playing it, quoting "We are who we are" in the most peculiar contexts. 

All credit to them - they won me over. The song is now lodged in my head and I quite love it. Though I think I'll put it down to the associations that I make between the song and brilliant times, and brilliant people.

The lyrics did get me thinking though, because at the heart of this song is this lyric "we are who we are". If I take a positive spin on it, it's a great lyric affirming that we are individuals, and that we shouldn't try to become somebody else. I love that idea, it's one of things I'm very passionate about, that we are unique individuals who shouldn't need to subscribe to the pressures of other people. Teaching young people this is such an essential task. 

It's the rest of the lyrics that make me frustrated at what I perceive is the real message. 

"Hot and dangerous, if you're one of us then roll with us, cause we make the hipsters fall in love. And we've got hot-pants on enough, and yes of course because we're running this town just like a club"

I've always thought that Ke$ha's popularity is simply because she is 'party girl'. To me, she epitomises the party scene. It's the scene that says 'we don't care what anyone thinks of us, all we care about is partying". It's a scene that promotes, and promises that all you need to do is to enjoy yourself, and you'll be happy. Drink, dance and pull. It's the norm for so many of our young people. But herein lies my real frustration: "We R Who We R" is not about being individuals, in fact in my view it's the opposite. It's about getting with the crowd, buying into the party, and not caring what anyone else thinks. 'Why should you care what they think of you? - you are who you are'.

But instead of being 'who you are', Ke$ha's lyrics really just encourage people to conform. 

We recently had a discussion with our teen boys about the issue of drinking, and they expressed that they drink because others do it. They are the odd one out if they don't, and they don't want to be left out. So they join the party. They want to be able to join the jokes, and laugh at the guy who threw up or pulled the 'unattractive' girl. So are they really being 'who they are', or are they just selling out to fit in?

God has more for us. He has more for girls than being scantily clad and dolled up to look good. He has more for boys than treating girls like prizes and objects for our pleasure. He has more for us than throwing ourselves at strangers. He has more for us than losing control and making fools of ourselves. He has more for us than feeling ill the morning after. It's not rocket science. 

God wants more for us than just a 'good weekend'. It's just not very popular. It does mean going against the crowd. It does mean feeling foolish sometimes because no-one else understands. But God longs for us to be who we truly are, and as the one who made us, He should know.

Forgive me for slating Ke$ha. I do love her song, and I'm not that serious, I do appreciate it for what it is. But I am passionate about helping young people find their own identity, based on the truth that God has made them each individually and uniquely. The truth that they are who they are, and they don't need to conform. Beneath the surface Ke$ha has a very different, but popular message, and has a much wider audience than I. 

My hope is that through my seemingly small and insignificant part, some young people will be led to the truth that they are created by God, and in Him that they really do find who they are. 

"Thank you Lord for my Slingsby Ladder"

I actually had to ask what a 'Slingsby ladder' even was. I had no idea why she was making such a big deal out of it! An older lady who attends my homegroup was so overjoyed about the fact that she had this ladder recently installed in her house. We were moving round each of the 5 of us who attend, and were sharing our various life challenges or joys. Various things were discussed by the other 4 of us: new jobs; stressful jobs; children living differently from how we would hope they would be living; and this Slinsby ladder!

She worked as a nurse and travelled as a missionary across many countries serving with her skills. Her decisions very much limited her possibilities of marriage and so she is single. She has suffered from great illness in recent years. She is one of the most remarkably wise people I have ever met, and when she speaks and shares her life with us, we sit listening intently, hanging on every word she says. She is dedicated in her reading of the Bible and has an incredible knowledge, and with is an incredible wisdom. Throughout her life and still, she is devoted to God as her sole rock and guide. It's displayed in every ounce of her thought, outlook and attitude. Once one of our homegroup members said to her "you must have given up so much to live the life that you have lived", and she replied "not at all, I have been given so much more in return, and been blessed in so many ways". 

The words of a woman who's hope is truly in the Lord. She had left home, given up the opportunity to marry, spent many a Christmas away from home in a strange culture, lived on her own, struggled through illnesses, and yet her only thought is of how good God has been to her.

I'm a 22 year old blessed in so so many ways with so much of my life ahead of me. I'm often lazy in my prayer and study life. I've been given such an amazing privilege to lead and serve in my Church for the year. I am spoiled. Yet how often I am ungrateful. And this lady is over-the-moon with her Slingsby ladder that allows her into her loft.

With the advances in the modern world, we're used to possessions. God is indeed a useful 'bolt-on' to our lives. He gives us added security. He gives us added confidence. He gives us the comfort that we're not alone, and that He forgives us when we do things 'wrong'. We don't need God, but we'll happily take Him where it makes our lives better. 

But this lady has grasped something that I would do well to grasp. Yes God sent Jesus to bring her new life to one tarred by sin, but God has given her that life in the first place. The breath she breathes. She is, because HE IS. We are stewards of what God has given to us. The job, the money, every waking moment - even the Slingsby ladder!

How I could learn to humble myself in the same way, and increase my joy and love for how generous He has been.