Time for a Revolution

On the Eastern and Southern borders of this continent, multitudes wait. Rejected, desecrated, desperate and dying. Our brothers and sisters wait.

In Spain, we see attempted quashing of a people movement that will not be silenced, that will not stand by whilst there are millions of empty homes and  people continuing to be evicted from their properties. They will not keep quiet, whilst corruption is rife in the corridors of power and the finance remains in the hands of the few.

In Greece, we have seen the humiliation of a people, maligned by the elite, because they were the first to fall. But a movement is growing that will not be stopped because they know that a different story is theirs.

In France, the stirring in the streets of hope for an altogether different future. Mainly unreported, dismissed as insignificant. But a song is rising that will be sung throughout the land.

In the UK, a defunct, discredited, dishonourable and dishonest political and economic elite, holds onto power and drives through reforms, based on a ideology so out of touch with reality, that cripple and maim whole swathes of society. The education and health systems demonstrate the starkness of biopower.

It is time for a revolution.

Revolutions do not have to be bloody or violent. In fact, if we were to have such a type of revolution across Europe right now, it would be the antithesis of what is needed. For too long, the power held at the centre has been used to dominate and control, to crush and to violate. But no more. The centre cannot hold.

But how? How in the face of such opposition? How when the powerful seem so strong? And what kind of revolution is possible if it is not violent or bloody?

We must call time on this utter corruption together. Change is possible. We can live differently. The well-being of everybody is a dream held in the heart of God. Peace can be the status quo. Love will win.

The revolution must start with us. There is a great singer-songwriter called David Benjamin Blower. He has written an amazing song called “Repentance is the Revolution”. Repentance means to utterly change the way you view the world, to see differently and live in line with your new sight. A new Europe is only possible, if we repent, if we ourselves are willing to change and be changed. We are changed when we encounter the face of God in someone utterly different to ourselves (especially the poor and marginalised) and learn to love them with all our hearts. We will learn the ways of peace and walk in them. Our weapons will be tools for building the future and our war cry will be a song.

Our processes will change our culture. We will say goodbye to top down hierarchy and find more relational ways to make decisions that matter. We will host and hold spaces that create environments for catalytic change.

Our values will shape us. The values of this movement will be that we love unconditionally and have grateful attitudes even when unfair and unpredictable things happen. We will seek first to understand and listen with kind eyes. We will act gently, walk with humility and integrity. We will leak joy. We will encourage and forgive others. We will speak truth with compassion and release healing and hope. We will do our best, remembering that failure is our friend that can teach us many lessons. We will be faithful to our promises because we are children of God, who co-creates the future with us.

 

Misconstrued Sovereignty

iu-5We are hearing a lot about ‘sovereignty’ these days, especially in the current debate about Europe. We are particularly told by the ‘brexit’ campaign that leaving Europe will give us our ‘Sovereignty’ back as a nation. We will be able to make our own laws and do things the way we want them to be done. And yet sovereignty usually means the empowerment of the few, something that absolutely must change.

 

Yesterday was Good Friday. A day when we remember the cruel and appalling death of a man who claimed to be the Son of God.  A man who touched the untouchables, healed the sick, gave dignity to prostitutes and embraced the dying. A man who set a trajectory for the equality of women and the rightful honour children should receive. A man who welcomed strangers and prioritised the poor. A man who dared to say to religious powers that God is not far away and unknowable; and to political leaders that top-down dominating hierarchy is only based on fear and control. A man who in essence gave us the foundations for true democracy (as Robert Schuman says), where we do not seek that which is best for ourselves, motivated by self-preservation; no, we learn to embrace the ‘other’ and show brotherly and sisterly love to all.

 

imgresThe cross is not about the need of an angry Sovereign God to be appeased, but rather the love of God utterly dismantling humanity’s understanding of what it means to be sovereign. So much therefore for ‘Sovereign decisions’ that disregard the need of our fellow humans. So much for the desire to be self-ruling and governing.

 

In our household today, we have been thinking together about all that Jesus took upon himIMG_0368.jpgself on the cross. Not just our own ‘Sovereign’ ways of behaving with a capital S, the thoughts and actions that demonstrate our own need to be in charge, but the things we do as humanity collectively that bring such destruction to ourselves, our relationships and the world we live in. We wrote many things down on scraps of paper and pinned them to a wooden cross (words like selfishness, greed, the arms trade, nuclear weapons, starvation in a world of plenty etc). And then we burnt the whole thing, representing to us the way that his love consumes and overcomes all of these things. It is finished. That old understanding of Sovereignty is done with. True sovereignty is to walk in the way of uncontrolling love (Jay Thomas Oord) and has nothing to do with violence, debt, control, power games or self-preservation.

 

When christians speak of the ‘Sovereignty of God’, we must be careful to understand what we mean. God is not sovereign in the way humanity classically attributes sovereignty. His sovereignty is of a completely different order. The word sovereign is unhelpful when thinking about God. It attributes all kinds of disturbing characteristics that do not belong to him at all. We must find better language that is not entangled with such confusion, or alternatively allow the word ‘sovereignty’ to be entirely redefined.
And so, when we want to make our own individual ‘sovereign’ decisions, or as a nation IMG_0371.jpgwish to do so collectively, we could perhaps think more carefully about what will happen when we act in a ‘sovereign’ dimension toward others….As english people, we are going to struggle with our own sense of sovereignty, because we have had the biggest empire in the world and have a long history of grand monarchy. At Easter, we could do worse than to reflect on the humility and grace of the cross and allow our hunger for autocracy to be utterly undone.

Christmas

In my last blog post in reimagininghealth.com, I talked about the concept of meta-narratives and how they effect our health and wellbeing. For me the Christmas story is the ultimate meta-narrative (the big story with which I align my life). It changes the idea forever that God is a far off hierarchical, imperial, power-hungry megalomaniac. It eradicates the notion that we must go to him, where he is, in some special sacred space and will only find him if we clean up our act and start behaving in certain ways. No. He comes to us. This story (as JRD Kirk says) is not one of God changing his mind about humanity, but about humanity changing its mind about who God is.

iuHe comes to be with us and changes himself in the process. He becomes utterly human, not some weird, ready-break glowing child, but deeply human and in so doing destroys the stories we have told ourselves about what he is like. He comes to us. He comes right to our very situations, our joys, or triumphs, our brokenness and our shame and says, I AM with you.  And if you run away, I’m there with you. And if you turn away, I’m there with you. And if you hide away, I’m there with you. And if you fail, I’m there with you. And if you don’t believe, I’m there with you in your unbelief.  Because contrary to the caricature of Dawkins, I am love itself. A love that will pour itself out time and again.  A love that is stronger than bitterness, hate and division. A love that is willing to be misunderstood, misinterpreted and misrepresented. This is not the story of a God who slaughters his enemies in order to protect himself and those he holds close (a narrative upon which the nation state is built and uses to predicate the violence it does to others – and if you don’t believe me, then you haven’t read enough history). No, this is a story about a love that will lay its own life down for its enemies and enables us to do the same.

As Steve Chalk says, Jesus never came to start a religion. He came to start a political, social, economic and spiritual revolution. God with us – wherever we are. The God who prioritises the poor, the refugee/marginalised/outcast, the sick, the prisoner, the woman, the child, the environment. The powers have never and will never understand Light in Darkness-02or overcome this light. The promise of the light is peace. Peace on earth. If we embrace the way of love, anything is possible. Even in the midst of all the turmoil in our world this Christmas, I find great hope in the idea of God, who is love, with us in it all. I believe that when we embrace this light and this love as our meta-narrative, as our raison d’être, we find healing for ourselves individually and corporately.