Away in a manger

The Christmas season has involved several surreal new experiences, none of them unpleasant (!). Collecting money with the Salvation Army band in Oxford Street was great fun, although after an hour and a half of standing on a cold street holding a bucket my muscles had pretty much seized up. It was fun watching all the shoppers, though, being asked for directions (I don't know where ANYTHING is), occasionally having a brief chat with passersby, shoving my bucket through a cab window to receive a contribution from the driver! The most surreal moment was when a bright yellow bus emblazoned with the Corona beer logo pulled up directly beside the Salvation Army band (there was a set of traffic lights there), complete with man in Corona beer bottle costume dancing on the upper deck of the bus.

On Saturday we had 'Christmas on the Farm', an outdoor nativity held at the city farm in Stepney. All the characters (shepherd, wise men, innkeeper etc.) were played by adults except for Mary and Joseph, played by two children, and baby Jesus, played by a doll. I was the angel. We arrived several hours early to set up, only to discover that there were three very large, aggressive-looking pigs in the pig shed which was supposed to be our 'stable'. I volunteered to jump over a fence with a bucket of pig feed to lure the porkers out while two of the menfolk swiftly placed a bit of metal fencing over the entrance. Unfortunately, during our lunch break the pigs broke back in, so we repeated the operation and put Joan on pig watch. It rained all day, which put a bit of a dampener on things, but it was still a good laugh and the people that came seemed to enjoy it. Many people see Christmas on the Farm as their bit of 'church' for the year.

In the bleak mid-winter...

Man, it's cold! I really don't cope well with cold. Or heat. Basically, it's hard to get the temperature right for me. Maybe I have bad circulation... Anyway, Christmas is fast approaching and I have been preparing some advent worship for our small group of Sunday morning worshippers (we had an amazing 14 for worship last Sunday - we were quite overwhelmed!). Every year I tell myself I will buy a Christmas CD and every year I forget until it's far too late to bother. But this year I have discovered the delights of fast and cheap mp3 download, with the excuse of Sunday worship to prepare for.

The really weird thing is that even though I have heard the same carols and the same Christmas story every year for as long as I can remember, and have believed it for the last five years, this year I am finding myself very moved by the whole thing. I was watching a film version of the nativity story on my laptop in the Idea Store (library to you and me - I did have the headphones on, by the way) and found myself blubbing in public - most alarming. This morning I have been trying to plan a simple act of worship for advent based on Christmas carols and have found myself in tears once again. The following carol starts me off crying every time - it's my favourite:

In the bleak midwinter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone;
Snow had fallen,
Snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter,
Long ago.

Our God, heaven cannot hold him,
Nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away
When he comes to reign;
In the bleak midwinter
A stable place sufficed
The Lord God almighty,
Jesus Christ.

Enough for him, whom Cherubim
Worship night and day
A breast full of milk
And a manger full of hay.
Enough for him, whom angels
Fall down before,
The ox and ass and camel
which adore.

Angels and archangels
May have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim
Thronged the air;
But only his mother
In her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the Beloved
With a kiss.

What can I give him,
Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd
I would bring a lamb,
If I were a wise man
I would do my part,
Yet what I can, I give Him —
Give my heart.

Beautiful feet...

"Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved." But how are they to call on one in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in one of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone to proclaim him? And how are they to proclaim him unless they are sent? As it is written, "How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!"

Romans 10:13-15

This passage expresses the passion which drives me. 'How are they to believe in one of whom they have never heard?' Though most of the people we meet in our everyday lives here in the UK have heard of Jesus, very few really understand what Jesus is all about, or who he is. For older people there is so much baggage - memories of being bored in church, headlines about child-molesting priests. To younger people, Jesus just seems completely irrelevant. And many younger people (say, 40 and under) grew up while church attendance was steadily declining, and quite possibly were never dragged to Sunday school and may know very little about Jesus.

This is where proclamation comes in - proclaiming the good news. But this is tricky. How can you proclaim if people don't want to hear? Do you just do it anyway? Hence men standing on street corners with loudhailers, large posters at train stations with Bible verses (King James version, of course), leaflet drops, door knocking. I have great respect for anyone who goes cold-calling for Jesus - I have spoken to people for whom this approach has borne fruit. Praise God. The very thought of it makes me cringe in horror. I may be an in-your-face kind of person but I can't bear in-your-face evangelism. But at least door-knockers and street preachers have a sense of urgency! (that is a quotation from someone but I can't remember who...Shane Claiborne??).

The area I am working in does not lend itself to the above approaches. My part of Tower Hamlets is over 50% Muslim - door knocking and large posters with Bible verses in my area are simply going to wind people up. The Alpha Course, fantastic though it is in some contexts, works best with people who already have some basic knowledge of Christianity and want to know more. If you have no idea that Jesus might be relevant to your life, you aren't going to go on an Alpha Course.

So much of the work I am doing would probably be described as 'incarnational', based on the fact that Christ was incarnated into our world - he 'became flesh'. 'The Word became flesh and lived among us' - in the same way, incarnational missionaries seek to live among people and 'proclaim' Christ with their lives. So I am running a reading group for people with mental health problems (we read fiction, not Scripture); helping to promote a mentoring project for women recently arrived in the UK (mostly Bangladeshi Muslim women); working as an assistant to a university chaplain, which largely involves serving food to people, chatting, and washing up. I am very conscious that my life does not have a holy aura most of the time. Do people see Jesus in me? What a terrifying question. I find this verse from Philippians immensely comforting:

For it is God who is at work in you, enabling you both to will and to work for his good pleasure.

Philippians 2:13

Newsflash: Emma expresses an opinion

Strange though it may seem to people who know me well, I actually tend to hold back from expressing strong opinions when I'm in 'work' mode. I trained in the Alpha school of evangelism which emphasises listening, accepting, asking questions and not imposing your own views.

However, this evening I was at a volunteer training session and was chatting to one of the other volunteers about my work doing street outreach to women involved in prostitution. The other woman said: "Oh that's interesting, I've been involved in researching government policy on the sex industry; some people argue that it's a valid choice for women and a paternalistic government shouldn't assume that choice should be taken away. What do you think?" Now, if someone asks you what you think at Alpha, you're allowed to say, although I would tend to go gently when expressing opinions which are likely to be controversial. Granted, I was not on an Alpha course, but I was still a missionary talking to someone who I am pretty sure was not a Christian, being asked a question about an area of ministry I feel passionately about. Normally I would start a long conversation, find out more about the other person's point of view, express my own thoughts with much hesitation and clarification... However, the person running the training had just started to say "If you're all finished, could you please look this way...," so there was no time for beating about the bush, and so I said: "I think it's sick and wrong."

Many, if not most, issues are open to various interpretations, and I usually find I can sympathise with people's views even if I don't agree with them. But when it comes to issues like this I really think our society has gone mad. I love the women I meet who are involved in prostitution, and I know God loves the men who pay as well, but the practice of prostitution itself is surely just plain evil.

Reflections after first night of street outreach

It is nearly 3am and instead of trying to sleep, I am blogging... head very full, need to download (or upload, depending on how you look at it!).

Spent four hours doing street outreach in East London for the first time. Chatted to women involved in prostitution and some drunk homeless guys. One of them got a bit affectionate; luckily we were able to back away and laugh it off. Gave out lots of tea, hot chocolate and condoms, and loads of chocolate bars. Called an ambulance (another first). Spent some time in A&E. Saw a punter, a perfectly normal, nice-looking bloke. Weird. Felt scared walking down dark streets, crossing the road to avoid groups of lads. Ate a bagel with pickled herring at 2am. Feet hurt now. Up at 9.30am...

Too busy not to pray

I have been feeling ill at ease recently, and I think I have located the source of my problem. It is so easy in Christian work to get very busy very quickly, doing lots of things "for God" but not actually involving him in the process. To make things worse, I am one of those people who struggles to still her mind for any length of time. In recent weeks I have taken to playing solitaire on my laptop while watching telly - I am so fidgety I can't even give a TV programme my full attention! I can sustain praying silently and alone for all of about 90 seconds before my attention strays elsewhere. One approach which has worked for me in the past involves producing a collage to represent a passage or verse from the Bible, the idea being that it gives my hands something to do while, in theory at least, my mind is listening to God. Another possibility is that I drag myself out of bed half an hour earlier and walk five minutes down the road to the university chapel where Jenny the chaplain prays every morning with anyone who comes. If anyone is reading this, please pray that God would help me wake up...

"I am the vine, and you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will bear much fruit; for you can do nothing without me." (John 15:5)

Candle wax, money and driving in London

I now have a PAID JOB, which is very exciting. I am assistant to the chaplain at Queen Mary, University of London (see my blog post on the best sign ever), 10 hours a week. The concept of being paid for Christian work is a new and very exciting one for me. On Wednesday I spent a fair portion of the morning trying to get candle wax out of a red carpet using an iron and some kitchen paper...it does work.

This week I have also experienced driving in central London for the first time - a nerve-racking experience. I never know if the other drivers are madmen or if I'm in the wrong lane... I drove a mile down the road last night (it was dark and I was ill) and it took me 25 minutes. Would've been quicker to walk.

Church planters go wild in Brum...

First, take a handful of Christian leaders on a church planting course, and put them in a pub. Add half a dozen inebriated locals and a karaoke machine, and mix it all up. What do you get? My most surreal experience ever. Four of us decided to sing Bohemian Rhapsody (while most of the church planters sat outside behaving sensibly). The highlight for me was playing an air guitar solo on a crutch lent by a drunk injured man while the entire pub jumped up and down and my esteemed colleagues bellowed into the microphones... Oh my.

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost

I read this poem years ago and quite liked it, but recently at a training course a group of us read it together and I realised I had totally misunderstood it. I thought Robert Frost was writing about not going with the flow, doing something few others have done before, being different... and I suppose that might be part of it. But the title is The Road Not Taken. The poem is about the option he didn't take, the path which became forever closed to him because he decided to go a different way. And he stood for a long time looking down the road not taken, then took the other. And it's not even clear whether he made the right choice - "that has made all the difference" - but he doesn't say whether in a good way or not. At the course we were asked how this poem made us feel and my immediate reaction was: "absolutely terrified." There aren't any guarantees in life - apart from death and taxes, as my Dad frequently reminds me, cheerful soul that he is. If God asks us to give things up, he doesn't guarantee he'll give them back to us in the future. Actually, maybe he does. As I've been writing, these verses have come back to me:

Then Peter said, "Look! We have left our homes to follow you." "Yes," Jesus said to them, "and I assure you that anyone who leaves home or wife or brothers or parents or children for the sake of the Kingdom of God will receive much more in this present age and eternal life in the age to come." - Luke 18:28-30

Good Neighbours

On Sunday I experienced "Good Neighbours" for the first time. Once a month on a Sunday morning, instead of having a worship service, we do odd jobs for elderly locals - gardening, DIY, fixing stuff... I now have a v. cool t-shirt (oh, the excitement) bearing the slogan: "Good neighbours do something beautiful". Afterwards we have a meal together at Nick and Kerry's house and a short reflection.

I love it because it's such a simple idea and yet so clever. Firstly, it's a way of serving the most vulnerable people in our community in a very practical way - and of getting to know them. Secondly, it emphasises - for Christians and others - the fact that following Jesus is not just about words but actions, and is about your whole life, not just sitting in a church. And thirdly, it's so accessible - people who wouldn't come to a service come to Good Neighbours, because everyone likes to feel they're being helpful and it's such an easy thing to join in with.

Beneath the veil

Had a really interesting experience today - sat in on an English language class for Bengali women who haven't been in the country long. It was great fun. They were all wearing brightly coloured scarves covering their hair. One woman was particularly loud and funny with a terrific smile. When it got to the end of the class, she pinned a black veil over her face so only her eyes were showing. It turned out she'd taken the extra veil off because it was an all-female group. If I'd met her on the street all I would have seen would be her eyes peeping out through a slit.

Mission, Islam, "religion" and Philip Larkin

Had an interesting chat with the manager of a London City Mission hall which has been converted into an arts centre with a halal cafe. Apparently there used to be a big cross on the outside wall, which they eventually decided to remove. While the guy was taking the cross off the wall a muslim guy was passing, and said "Oh good, I'll be able to go in there now." Lots of Christians would be horrified at the thought of removing a cross from a Christian building... but delighted that a muslim would feel comfortable coming into a mission hall! Incarnational mission is a complex thing. I guess a mission hall with no cross is a bit like a Christian who doesn't go around asking everyone they meet "Have you been born again?"

Met with my reading group today. Emily brought an absolutely fantastic poem - Aubade by Philip Larkin. He describes religion as:

That vast, moth-eaten musical brocade
Created to pretend we never die

Interesting. All societies have gods. Some people argue that man cannot live without a god and therefore invents one. Others say man cannot live without God because he was never meant to.

Wealth and poverty

Aldgate is the point where...the 'golden mile' of the City gives way to the most overcrowded ward in the United Kingdom. It is the point where concentrated wealth collides with extremes of poverty.

- Kenneth Leach, 'Through Our Long Exile', London, Darton Longman & Todd, 2001.

The prize for the best sign ever goes to...

...the Queen Mary, University of London chaplaincy centre! I love it!!!

Couch potato goes for a walk

It turns out my stubborn nature is stronger than my dislike of exercise. I walked for about an hour today along the Whitechapel Road, determined to find somewhere to get a front door key cut...with no success. But I got lots of interesting pictures; selected ones above. If you walk west along the Whitechapel Road from Stepney Green tube you pass endless shops selling international phone cards and cut price sequinned dresses. There are no chain stores at all (although I did find a Sainsbury's hidden behind the library). Many of the people you meet are clearly Bengali; the rest from an assortment of other places. A north African bloke tried to start a conversation with me in French today - possibly because I was taking photographs so he assumed I was a tourist... not many tourists on Whitechapel Road. It's kind of run down, but in an interesting way. The East London Mosque is a very impressive sight - the other day I was sitting in the Muslim Aid fairtrade cafe and we heard the lunchtime call to prayer. I felt as if I were back in Beirut.

If you keep walking west, then swerve a bit through Brick Lane, you will end up in Old Spitalfields Market - packed with tourists, middle class shoppers, trendy wine bars. It has a very different feel. It wasn't a pleasant contrast. I think it's because the area just drips wealth - I can't imagine many people from Whitechapel shop in Spitalfields. I found my 'local' Starbucks - around 30 mins walk from my house. Well, if I get REALLY desperate...

The Salvation Army, George Harrison

Spent the morning with Salvation Army officers from around the London area who'd come to find out about Nick and Kerry's work here. (Nick and Kerry are my new... well, "supervisors" I guess you'd call them). A v. inspiring morning. We talked about how the traditional ways in which churches have tried to share Jesus with people have involved bringing people into a building, whereas what Nick and Kerry are trying to do is to share their faith wherever they go with whoever they meet in whatever ways are appropriate. It's all about getting to know people and spending time with them. I've got some decisions to make about the ways in which I will try to engage with the community I'm now living in.

Have you ever heard the song 'My Sweet Lord' by George Harrison? Google it and have a listen. I listened to that song over and over again when I was becoming a Christian. It's a heart cry from a man seeking God and not knowing what to call him:

I really want to see you
I really want to be with you
I really want to see you, Lord, but it takes so long, my Lord (hallelujah),
My sweet Lord (hallelujah)...

...then the "hallelujah"s become "Hare Rama"s, and then a whole lot of other Indian deities I can't spell. But let's not dwell on my spelling...(ahem).

The view from here

The Gherkin and gulab-jamun

I've been living in London just over 24 hours and have made some very exciting discoveries. I knew the Gherkin was visible from Stepney, but now I find that it's visible from outside my new house... oh the excitement. Yesterday I ventured to the corner shop to find something with which to wash down my headache pills (moving does that to you) and discovered, oh joy, oh rapture, that they sell gulab-jamun a mere 60 seconds' walk from my front door. If you've never tried them, I will describe them for you: small spongy dumplings saturated in treacle sauce. Oh yeah. An Indian classic. Only truly excellent curry houses serve them. This, for me, was A Good Sign.

Walking down Mile End Road today was quite an experience - the pavement lined with market stalls selling clothes in the most dazzling colours, the East London Mosque, the lunchtime call to prayer, a Muslim Aid fairtrade cafe. What should Christian mission look like in a place like this?