Part 542. Excellent exposition by Jon Swales: Jesus is strange

 

I commend the following article by Revd. Jon Swales for your attention.  The concepts and ideas in the article are reflected in many other posts on this blog.  Jon writes with authority and eloquence.

Jesus is strange.

Not strange in the way we sometimes make him strange in order to keep him safely religious, but strange in a much more unsettling sense. He is a stranger to both secular and religious sensibilities: an enigma, a mystery, a man who refuses to fit neatly into the categories we construct for him.

So we tame him. We create sanitised cultural imaginations of Jesus, reshaping him into a King who blesses our wealth and leaves our economic arrangements largely undisturbed; a friend of empire, a supporter of just wars, and someone who somehow has very little to say about greed, accumulation, possessions, consumerism or the relentless pursuit of more.

But then there is the wild Messiah.

The Jesus we encounter in the earliest stories about him is much harder to control. He flips tables. He announces good news to the poor. He warns the rich. He tells those who have more than enough to give it away. He touches the untouchable, eats with the wrong people and welcomes those respectable religion has pushed to the margins. He refuses to measure human worth by wealth, status or power.

And when confronted by the machinery of violence, he does something profoundly strange. He refuses to become violent himself. This is a King who would rather die for his enemies than kill them, a King whose kingdom does not advance through the sword, and whose victory comes not through crushing his enemies but through loving them.

This is the wildness of Jesus, and perhaps that is why we so often try to domesticate him. We smooth off the rough edges, explain away the difficult sayings and turn his teaching into inspirational wisdom. We sing about him without listening to him. We place him safely inside our religious systems, where his voice can be heard but need not disturb us.

But Jesus keeps escaping our attempts to contain him. He stands there in broad daylight in the earliest Christian stories, strange and uncompromising, and he says, “Follow me.”

Following Jesus means more than agreeing with a set of beliefs about him. It means stepping into his strange kingdom. It means moving towards the broken rather than away from them. It means feeding the hungry, not simply with bread but with dignity, friendship and hope. It means caring for the sick, not merely as problems to be solved but as people to be loved. It means clothing the naked, sheltering the homeless and refusing to look away from those whom society has learned to ignore.

It means forgiving when vengeance feels easier, making peace when violence seems more powerful, and loving enemies when everything around us tells us that enemies should be hated. It means crossing the boundaries that divide us and refusing to allow fear, prejudice or social status to determine who belongs.

And it means asking uncomfortable questions about the things we accumulate, protect and call our own. Jesus does not seem particularly impressed by our obsession with having more. Again and again, he turns our attention towards the poor, the hungry, the outsider and the least. His kingdom creates a different economy of life: people before profit, generosity before accumulation, relationship before status, and enough before more.

This is not sentimental Christianity. It is deeply political in the oldest sense of the word. It concerns the kind of community we become, the kind of world we imagine, and the kind of King to whom we give our allegiance.

The wild Messiah still stands in opposition to the powers that deform human life. He still calls us away from greed, domination and violence, away from the endless desire to possess, and towards mercy, justice, reconciliation, simplicity and the care of those who have been pushed to the edges.

To follow Jesus is to become strange. Not strange for the sake of being strange, and not eccentricity dressed up as holiness, but strange because the values of the kingdom are strange in a world organised around wealth, power, consumption and violence. In such a culture, the followers of Jesus should look different. They should be a people who give rather than hoard, welcome rather than exclude, forgive rather than retaliate, serve rather than dominate, seek justice rather than protect privilege, and choose peace rather than worship power.

They should be a prophetic people, a people who live as though the kingdom really is near.

Because perhaps the most unsettling thing about Jesus is not simply that he was strange. It is that he still says, “Follow me.”

And perhaps the real question is whether we are willing to follow him into the strangeness of his kingdom.

— Jon Swales, 2024

Appetite whetted? If so, the following article written by Jon Swales may be of interest:

I’ve got a hunch, 

maybe even a dream, 

that we as church leaders need 

to keep on returning to theology—

not just the kind that fills books, 

but the kind that lives and breathes in the world. 

It’s about getting back to thinking theologically, where the heart of the Christian faith meets the messy realities of the world we live in. 

As Karl Barth once said, we need the Bible in one hand and the newspaper in the other. We’ve got to bring scripture and tradition into dialogue with what’s happening around us—engage with the real issues people are facing today.

At the center of this is Jesus Christ, the one who stood with the marginalized and took on the systems of power. 

Theology that’s grounded in Jesus isn’t content with “business as usual.” It’s got to stir things up, challenge the comfortable, and disrupt the status quo. This is prophetic theology—the kind that speaks truth in a world that often doesn’t want to hear it. It cuts through denial and addresses the realities of injustice and oppression head-on.

But I don’t just dream of a theology that talks about change. 

It’s got to lead to action. 

Theology aligned with God’s kingdom doesn’t sit on a shelf or stay in a sermon. 

It’s lived out. 

It’s a theology that brings hope to those in despair and justice where there’s oppression. It’s not afraid to get messy and step into the hard places. 

It’s a theology in service of liberation, one that refuses to rest while the vulnerable continue to suffer. 

It listens to the cries of the poor and oppressed and responds with action, not just words, rooted in the radical love and mission of Jesus.

This is the theology I dream of—

born from love, in love, and for love. 

A theology that’s alive, prophetic, and liberating. 

One that demands transformation—

in our hearts, in our communities, 

and in the systems around us. 

It’s time we return to that kind of theology, where we refuse to let injustice and despair have the final word. 

A theology driven by the 

countercultural, 

revolutionary 

love of Christ.

Part 541. Political Involvement and Christian Social Action.

Before you call yourself a Christian, Hindu, Buddhist, Muslim, or any other theology, learn to be a good human first.

Anon

Christian theology needs to speak of social revolution, not reform; of liberation, not development; of socialism, not modernisation of the prevailing system.

Gustavo Gutierrez.

In the context of the above I invite you to read the article: Standing at the Crossroads: Rethinking Christian Social Action by Rachel Arnold.

https://gracetruth.blog/2026/10/02/standing-at-the-crossroads-rethinking-christian-social-action-by-rachel-arnold/?

An interesting article. My intention is to concentrate on two issues: political involvement and what the article describes as a Christian approach to social action.

As the article indicates there is a massive amount of effort put in by churches (and by it should be noted  secular organisations) to assist individuals at point of need.  Sometimes this support is provided by an organisation acting alone, sometimes organisations are in partnerships or are working collaboratively. Why this support is needed is well documented by, for example, The Joseph Rowntree Foundation, and there are innumerable reports setting out ideas of the action necessary to overcome the causes of poverty, deprivation, destitution, domestic abuse, homelessness etc. However the essential structural change can be achieved only by political decisions resulting in reallocation of resources by the government.  Like it or not, change of the magnitude required will be achieved only by a signficant shift in political attitudes: and these are determined often by reference to public opinion.

In the 1960's JK Galbraith expressed the opinion, in a USA context, that the country had the resources to eliminate the issues affecting what he described as the underclass but lacked the public and political will so to do.  For a present day exposition of this see: Taxpayers Against Poverty founded by Rev. Paul Nicolson.

In the 1980's the Church of England Report: Faith in the City stated at paragraph 3.7:

Yet while many members of the Church of England have found it more congenial to express their discipleship by helping individual victims of misfortune or oppression, fewer are willing to rectify injustices in the structures of society.  There is a number of reasons for this preference for 'ambulance work'. No-one minds being cast in the role of protector and helper of the weak and powerless: there is no threat here to one's superior position and one's power of free decision. But to be a protagonist of social change may involve challenging those in power and risking the loss of one's own power. Helping a victim or sufferer seldom involves conflict; working for structural change can hardly avoid it.  Direct personal assistance to an individual may seem relatively straightforward, uncontroversial  and rewarding; involvement in social issues implies choosing choosing between complicated alternatives and accepting compromises which seem remote from any moral position.....We have little tradition of initiating conflict and coping with it creatively. We are not at home in the tough, secular milieu of social and political activism.

Christians need to engage in the tough, secular milieu of social and political activism, as proposed by Liberation Theology proponents such as Gustavo Gutierrez and Jürgen Moltmann, not necessarily by aligning with a political 'tribe', but finding and persuading political allies to support policies aimed at achieving social justice.

The article makes the valid point that organisations providing help at point of need should be looking at advising on other support that may be available to individuals. This leads to the concept that organisations should not regard individuals as customers or clients on the other side of the counter but as individuals with whom a rapport may be developed.  This concept is well argued by such as Rev. Jon Swales and Rev. Samuel Wells.  Let us not kid ouselves that this is only a Christian response.  Other faiths and those of no faith are just as capable of coming alongside, being with, individuals and helping, supporting, advising, listening or caring.  There is no Christian monopoly.

Unlike the author of the article I do not believe there is a distinctive Christian approach to social action.  Rather there is a human response that manifests itself in supporting individuals and campaigning for social justice, hence the quotation at the top of this post.

Part 540. Simple, yet profound

During a discussion with an officer of The Salvation Army he remarked that the two Great Commandments attributed to Jesus in the synoptic gospels were simple, yet profound.  Add the Golden Rule and you have in a nutshell a theology of helping people at point of need and campaigning for social justice, all done in love.  Academics label this theology 'progressive', adding love and care for all creation to its attributes.

Variants on the theme of progressive theology include liberation, feminist, black and other equality theologies, each stemming from the injunction to love your neighbour.

Some define their belief/faith as being encompassed by Matthew 25 which rather limits the scope of progressive theology, but illustrates an important point. A broad, sweeping principle is open to interpretations seeking to either limit or expand its application.  

Detailed rules are more cut and dried in application.  It is important to distinguish a system only permitting  actions contained within the rules from those permitting  actions where the rules are silent.  

Principles are applied flexibly and are susceptibe to novel interpretation, rules are applied rigidly unless a degree of flexibilty is contained within them.  

 

Part 539: Short, simple and jargon free.

 When I commenced this blog I decided on three rules:

*  Keep posts short.

* Keep the arguments simple (but not simplistic).  Avoid convoluted sentences.

* Minimal use of jargon, recognising that some jargon is convenient shorthand.

With occasional lapses I think I have stayed within the rules.

This is post 539 and I admit my writing has sometimes been poor, often inadequate, bereft of literary merit, occasionally quite good and, vary rarely, accorded accolades.   What I do hope is that my output has described changes in my theological ideas and expresses clearly my current thoughts.

So, what is my current position?  Deep breath.......

A very brief simplified summary:

God:  God is beyond our understanding, beyond our imagination.  I offer the opinion that God is the creator of the universe, is in all of us, and that we subjectively apply the concept of God is Love to our understanding of what God means to us.

Scripture:  My conclusion is that scripture is of human origin in its entirety.  It is not the objective word of God, the authors have not been inspired by an outside agency known as God, but by subjective thinking.  Needless to say church doctrine and dogma is entirely of human origin. However the value of scripture is recognised as recording ideas of our ancestors and as a guide to human behaviour.  This is the case particulary in respect of the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark and Luke) in which the authors attribute concepts to the person we know as Jesus.  For those of us who seek to be inspired by and follow the teaching attributed to Jesus we place our emphasis on the two Great Commandments, to love God, in other words to love love, and to love our neigbour, ie. to show by our words and actions God's love for all creation.

I dislike labels for the simple reason they come with baggage.  I admit to numerous influences on my thinking. My current position is a melange, mixture, potpourri of existentialism, liberal, progressive, deconstructivist, liberation and radical theologies,  postmodernism. My understanding is influenced by my life experiences.  Faith, belief, do not exist in a vacuum sealed from and immune to the rest of the world.   

Part 538. Of banks and churches

 In many towns and you will find buildings that once were banks.  Some towns no longer have any operational banks.   Building societies also have reduced their branch networks.  Why should this be the case?  In part the development of internet banking has reduced footfall.  The growth of on-line purchasing and out-of-town shopping has resulted in many people not needing to go into town.  ATM machines in supermarkets etc again has taken away the need to visit bank premises.  From a commercial perspective the reduction in demand has enabled banks to achieve savings by closing branches and reducing staffing levels. Those without internet access, mobile phones or wary of using debit and credit cards, mostly older people, have lost important, indeed vital, access to banking facilities.  For the banks it is not managed decline but adaptation to give effect to customer preference.

Compare and contrast this with what is happening in the Church of England (CofE).  Every acre of our green and pleasant land is within a church parish.  But all is not well.  Travel around and you come across abandoned churches, parishes with no priest, or at best sharing a priest with another parish.  Some parishes share their priest with anything up to fourteen other parishes.  The reality is that  failure to recruit more ordinands than resigning or retiring clerics means demand outstrips supply. A palliative is to use the services of retired clergy with permission to officiate.  The CofE is increasingly reliant on authorised lay persons to conduct services or perform other functions traditionally the responsibility of clergy.  However such persons cannot conduct weddings, or perform functions reserved in the Book of Common Prayer specifically for ordained ministers.

The parish system needs volunteers to act as churchwardens, members of parochial church councils (PCCs) and various offices including those of treasurer and PCC secretary.  Many PCCs do not have a full complement of members, some parishes have no churchwardens and others no treasurer. In law PCCs are independent charities subject to the full rigour of charity law overseen by the Charity Commission.  With parishes lacking a full complement of officers, PCC members and churchwardens as well as no priest dedicted soley to the parish  is it any wonder the parish system is creaking. Then there is the issue of the upkeep of church premises.  As footfall decreases the pool of individuals prepared to fulfill roles within the parish also diminishes.  Whilst this conjery of pressures affects many parishes to varying degrees it is no surprise that parishes in poorer areas, suffer most.  Lower footfall means reduced income and this, together with the difficulty in finding people within a parish to improve the situation, means such parishes are earmarked for closure or merger.  Instead of tackling head-on the issue of engagement within parishes the CoE has gone along the road of managed decline.

The parish church was and should continue to be the beating heart of the CofE in the community.  The church should invest in resuscitation and development, particularly in poorer parishes, making the church meaningful to the community, being of, for and with the community.  It is not a question of more bottoms on seats, mixed ecology and church planting.  It is about engagement. It is about presence. St. Paul's is an excellent example of what can be achieved in this regard by the parish itself without recourse to top-down strategies and visions.

Part 537. Following Jesus

An interesting article by Jon Swales.  Many of my posts echo ideas contained and stated far better by Jon in the article.  Rather than stating 'I follow Jesus' I prefer to state 'I follow the teaching ascribed to Jesus by the authors of the synoptic gospels'.

Jesus’ central mission revolved around preaching, proclaiming, embodying and enacting the Kingdom of God.

In a world marked by domination and injustice, he announced the imminent rule and reign of the Father.

This divine government, an alternative Empire, offered, among other things, a social, political and economic reordering—a great reversal in which those rejected and pushed to the margins would now have a place at the table.

Meanwhile, those who held the seats of power and hoarded wealth, acting as gatekeepers of the status quo, would be called to repentance and find their assumptions about privilege and power turned upside down.

We need to be reminded that Jesus, who said, ‘Blessed are you who are poor,’ also said, ‘Woe to you who are rich.’

The Kingdom focus, along with its accompanying social, economic and political theology and praxis, should therefore be central for those who have answered Jesus’ call to ‘Follow Me’.

Yet, in some Christian expressions, this vital aspect of Jesus’ ministry is diminished, relegated to a marginal note or gloss—treated as an inconsequential historical footnote that can be safely overlooked by contemporary expressions of Christian spirituality.

The results are neither surprising nor accidental.

We end up with a mutated expression of the Christian faith that bears little resemblance to Jesus and instead sits comfortably alongside consumerism, unrestrained capitalism and the hoarding of wealth.

Given this, and with a growing sense of urgency—for the unholy trinity of individualism, unrestrained capitalism and consumerism is helping propel us towards an increasingly unlivable future—we need to rearticulate the Christian faith in a way that reflects and realigns us with the Jesus of history and the Kingdom he proclaimed.

To follow Jesus is to organise our lives around the Kingdom he announced.

This means more than private spirituality, personal salvation or individual morality. It means allowing the reign of God to reshape how we understand wealth and poverty, power and privilege, community and belonging, creation and consumption, justice and the common good.

In other words, in response to Jesus, who proclaimed, ‘The Kingdom of God is at hand,’ we need to be those who hear his call:

Repent and believe.

— Swales, 2023

Part 536. Abstract or concrete, or both.

 One could argue with conviction that the Christian faith and praxis has as its objective preparing individuals for admission to heaven.  Others would argue that the doctrine and dogma  accompanying this process is driving people away from faith.

There are those who argue, convincingly, that the teaching attributed to Jesus by the authors of the synoptic gospels points to the primary importance of helping individual at point of need and pursuing social justice to achieve heaven on earth.

And then there are those who pursue both: achieving admission to the heaven of God and heaven on earth.

It is against this background I invite you to read the following passage by Karl Popper: Conjectures and Refutations.

“Work for the elimination of concrete evils rather than for the realization of abstract goods. Do not aim at establishing happiness by political means. Rather aim at the elimination of concrete miseries. Or, in more practical terms: fight for the elimination of poverty by direct means--for example, by making sure that everybody has a minimum income. Or fight against epidemics and disease by erecting hospitals and schools of medicine. Fight illiteracy as you fight criminality. But do all this by direct means. Choose what you consider the most urgent evil of the society in which you live, and try patiently to convince people that we can get rid of it.

But do not try to realize these aims indirectly by designing and working for a distant ideal of a society which is wholly good. However deeply you may feel indebted to its inspiring vision, do not think that you are obliged to work for its realization, or that it is your mission to open the eyes of others to its beauty. Do not allow your dreams of a beautiful world to lure you away from the claims of men who suffer here and now. Our fellow men have a claim to our help; no generation must be sacrificed for the sake of future generations, for the sake of an ideal of happiness that may never be realized. In brief, it is my thesis that human misery is the most urgent problem of a rational public policy and that happiness is not such a problem. The attainment of happiness should be left to our private endeavours.

It is a fact, and not a very strange fact, that it is not so very difficult to reach agreement by discussion on what are the most intolerable evils of our society, and on what are the most urgent social reforms. Such an agreement can be reached much more easily than an agreement concerning some ideal form of social life. For the evils are with us her and now. They can be experienced, and are being experienced every day, by many people who have been and are being made miserable by poverty, unemployment, national oppression, war and disease. Those of us who do not suffer from these miseries meet every day others who can describe them to us. This is what makes evils concrete. This is why we can get somewhere in arguing about them; why we can profit here from the attitude of reasonableness. We can learn by listening to concrete claims, by patiently trying to assess them as impartially as we can, and by considering ways of meeting them without creating worse evils.

With ideal goods it is different. These we know only from our dreams and from the dreams of our poets and prophets. They cannot be discussed, only proclaimed from the housetops. They do not call for the rational attitude of the impartial judge, but for the emotional attitude of the impassioned preacher.

The Utopianist attitude, therefore, is opposed to the attitude of reasonableness. Utopianism, even though it may often appear in a rationalist disguise, cannot be more than a pseudo-rationalism."

Karl Popper, 'Conjectures and Refutations' (page 361-362 in the original edition; page 485-486 in the new edition).

In the 1990s I read Theology of Hope (1964) by Jurgen Moltmann. It was a major influence on my thinking as at the time I was studying for a diploma in theology.

His obituary published in The Daily Telegraph on10th June 2024 had this to say:

"Jurgen Moltmann was the most significant Protestant theologian of the 20th century.  

"The basis of Moltmann's work was his conviction that true theology must always be related to concrete human situations and that the teaching of Jesus about the Kingdom of God requires of his followers commitment to the overthrowing of everything in the social order that is contrary to its demands. This led him to personal involvement in peace and other demonstrations.....and close association with the Liberation Theology movement in Latin America, where his work was specially valued by Catholic theologians.

"The message was of a God whose coming in the world lay not in some distant future but was a present reality, thus offering both hope and challenge."

The news of Martin Luther King Jnr's assassination propelled Moltmann into an interest in black theology and becoming a strong supporter of the USA civil rights movement. Moltmann's wife, Elisabeth Moltmann-Wendell was a prominent supporter of feminist theology.  

Part 535. Of, for and with communities.

 What is a community?  Simple question but complex answers. The basic definition is people sharing a common interest or within a geographic area. Thus an individual who enjoys jazz shares a common interest with other jazz lovers,  even if they do not know oters with the same interest.  Individuals living on housing estates, or within the boundaries of a church or secular parish may be described as being part of communities of geography. 

An individual  may be a member of several communities of interest: work, leisure activities, hobbies, race, sexuality, economic. A geographic community will not be homogenous but very diverse.  Take for example an housing estate comprising properties formerly rented out by a local authority.  There will be individuals who rent from an housing association, owner-occupiers and owners who rent on the private market.  There will be old people, young people, those in employment, unemployed, sofa surfers, those with addictions, a multi-racial estate etc.  All with different interests, hopes  and concerns.

So, when people speak of community engagement what does that mean, particularly in a church context?  Is it a 'one size fits all' approach or is the plan to target specific groups?  Does a church attempt a go it alone approach or seek to collaborate with other faith organisations, secular charities, businesses or the statutory sector?

More importantly, what is the motivation or purpose behind churches  becoming involved with community engagement? It is a long-held opinion of this author that the belief system as encapsulated in the Nicene Creed is far removed from the teaching of Jesus found in the Synoptic Gospels with its emphasis on loving your neighbour, kindness, helping those in need and justice.

 Carl Krieg suggests the following:

“Change the message, returning it to what Jesus actually taught and did. That change is basic, and it conforms to what people need and want to hear because everyone understands love. The current images of what the church represents- sacrifice on a cross, walking on water, even hell- must be replaced by images of love and community, images that represent who God is and who we are. A non-dogmatic approach is mandatory and would open the doors to people who come from different backgrounds and are at differing stages of life and faith formation. There must be no room for a fundamentalist attitude of “here it is, take it or leave it”. It is that attitude, masquerading as faith, that made the pews empty in the first place. The purpose of the church is not to convert, not to get people to join. The purpose of the congregation is to continually grow in awareness and fellowship within itself, while also providing for society at large a welcoming place where spirituality, love, and justice are practiced. Should those efforts prove successful, growth will come naturally.”

Do you, or your church, engage in social action, action in the world outside your church as a means to an end, namely to evangelise?  Or does it engage on the basis that it is the teaching attributed to Jesus in the synoptic gospels to get alongside and support the poor, the needy, the outcast, the marginalised in their hour of need and also to seek justice?

Going into communities is to leave the comfort zone of  the church and enter a world that has a range of values, expectations, worries and concerns.  How to relate?  Certainly not by pushing solely a gospel message rooted in the creeds.  Motivated by the core principle of love your neighbour it is essential to display care, concern, compassion, connection, consideration, but as equals, not by being patronising of paternalistic.  The key is to get alongside individuals, to show by words and actions that you are there for them as an integral part of the community.  No 'us' and 'them'.   You are with them and they are with you.  Seek to dismantle barriers.  By a process of osmosis the particular community(ies) you are connected with will imperceptibly come to understand and share your message of love.  

Unlike mixed ecology it is not about numerical increase in  church attendance.  It is about showing the love of Jesus to a disbelieving world, to show the church is not an inward looking private club but a body for, of and with those it serves.

Part 534. Mixed ecology: blessing or curse?

The Church of England is under severe pressure on several fronts: attendance, recruitment of ordinands and volunteers, inclusion, financial worries in many parishes, safeguarding, merger of parishes, church closures, doctrinal, theological, ecclesiological differences. Some of the issues are not stand-alone, rather they are toxic cocktails eroding the 'unity' of the Church. The Church gives this writer the impression it is divided into camps eyeing each other with suspicion,  even hostility.

Since Henry V111 replaced the Pope as head of the church to be known as the Church of England there has been disputation and dissent on a wide range of issues. What is different today is the development of social media and the glare of publicity it brings. Pressure groups are easier to establish, opinion formers have far greater and accelerated reach, groupthink replaces objectivity and analysis.

Why the CofE is losing members, why many parishes are struggling, why parishes are being merged has to be considered in the context of a range of factors that are just as relevant to other denominations in decline: it is the trend of the population to move away from, to reject, the doctrines and practices of traditional churches, to move away from regular church attendance, away from financial giving and volunteering. It is the ebb tide of the sea of faith. Will there be flood tide?  

When confronted with poor election results a political ploy is to claim the electorate rejected their party, not because of the party's policies but because of poor presentation. Improve presentation and all will be well: the electorate will come flooding back.  

A similar approach is be found in the Church of England. Expand the scope of presentation with church planting, set up initiatives to contact children and young persons, hold meetings and events in locations apart from traditional venues, enthuse existing and new ordinands and lay leaders, try new forms of service. In other words, fresh expressions and a mixed ecology. Set targets for numerical growth.

Rochester Diocese has received just shy of £11m from the Church of England's Diocesan Investment Programme. The funding will be used in support of the Diocese Called Together vision and strategy. The expected outcomes by 2034 include: a 15% increase in church attendance, a 50% increase in lay missional leaders, at least 25% more people making a commitment to faith, a 50% increase in children and young people engaged with church and 25% more churches with substantive CYPF ministry.

The strategy has three guiding objectives: to grow missional churches, with missional leaders and missional disciples.

Will the population buy-in to this strategy? Will it damage the parish system? Will it undermine the work of current clergy and lay people?

Sadly I do not note in the strategy any mention of deep debate, discussion or analyis of the various theological opinions held within  the Church of England. Rochester Diocese is strongly conservative evangelical and inevitably this will colour perceptions of the implementation of the strategy and how it is received.

It is the opinion of this writer that the Church of England should review the messages  it is sending to a doubting population if it is to achieve the growth hankered after. Bishop John Shelby Spong put it thus:

'Unless biblical literalism is challenged overtly in the Christian church itelf, it will, in my opinion kill the Christian faith, It is not just a benign nuisance that afflicts Christianity at its edges: it is a mentality that renders the Christian faith unbelievable to an increasing number of the citizens of our world.'

Postscript.

.

My attention has been drawn to the article at the end of the link. 

  https://keithelford.substack.com/p/trust?r=52qwfb

Part 533. Spotlight on charities

Two interesting articles: one on the pressures faced by charities, the other on the distinction between disagreement and being disagreeable.

Church of England parishes are charities and therefore subject to the rigours of charity law as well as rules laid down by dioceses and the church nationally.

I commend both articles as examples of what trustees have to concern and contend with.

One in four charities directly affected by divisions, according to new research - GOV.UK

‘Charities assume they are good – dissent is how they find out if they really are’

Part 532. Theology and Social Action: a trilogy

 

I invite you to read the article to be found in this link:

From Service to Communion - Exploring Humanitas for Our Time

I commend to you reading also two of my earlier posts:

25th May:  Rethinking Church Social Action

 7th July:  With Individuals

Part 531. Stuffed. Dr Helen King writes....

The article below is an excellent commentary by Dr Helen King on the proceedings of the General Synod on 13 July 2026.  The failure of the House of Bishops to vote in favour of the amended substantive motion, only a few minutes after voting for the amendment, is staggering, not simply the sea-change in voting intentions but more importantly the effect this has had on the gay constituency within the Church.  

The Church of England publishes how every member of General Synod voted on all amendments and motions.  We await the document with interest.

Posted on July 13, 2026 by fluff35

Back in February, I submitted a Private Member’s Motion (a PMM):

‘That this Synod affirm that there are no fundamental objections to being in a committed, faithful, intimate same-sex relationship, and that such a relationship can be entirely compatible with Christian discipleship.’

Any member of Synod can submit a PMM and mine was aimed at ending this very bruising Synod quinquennium with a positive pastoral statement about the invaluable but apparently unvalued contribution of LBGTQIA+ people to the Church. All those PMMs which had reached the threshold of 100 votes have been scheduled at this July Synod, so this morning mine was debated.

Back when I first tabled the motion, there was a certain amount of conservative kerfuffle online. They didn’t like the word ‘intimate’. I observe that we seem to be hung up on ‘intimacy’. We witnessed an example of this during Synod Questions on Friday. Question 14 was from Mrs Anna de Castro (Sheffield) asking the Chair of the Faith and Order Commission: ‘In the context of the Living in Love and Faith process, what meaning has FAOC given to the word “intimate”?’ And the response she was given? That “FAOC has not found it necessary to explore the meaning of intimate and to provide a more technical definition to the word than offered by its common usage.”

Common usage, eh? My first thought was the usage in “an intimate little Italian restaurant”. During a catch-up on the tennis, I saw a mixed doubles match in which the commentator assured us that someone on the other side of the net “knows both players intimately”. And then there’s “intimate care” which is all about toilets and continence.

Yet in these endless debates, some members of Synod seem to think “intimate” is all about bodies and pleasure. If you say “sexually intimate”, maybe that’s a reasonable interpretation. But I didn’t: just look at the words of my motion. That didn’t stop conservatives, both before today and during the debate on the PMM, telling me that I meant it. No. In the supporting paper which I was asked to put in before Synod met, I tried to make this clear; I wrote that “if we reduce intimacy to bodies, and indeed to specific acts of those bodies, we are not doing justice to the depth of our need for trust and closeness. ‘Intimate’ is used in this motion to recognise that deep, devoted, passionate relationships of many kinds exist, and always have existed, and that includes a range of types of physical contact. In a response to another Synod question (July 2023 Synod Q72), the then-Bishop of London helpfully noted that ‘LLF has always tried to recognise that the expression of sexual intimacy between two people cannot be reduced to a small set of defined actions.’”

My motion was deliberately short. Of course “no fundamental objections” was a reference to the 1975 motion which began the journey towards women priests. Looking at my motion, conservatives were complaining that they did have objections. But of course, some people did in 1975 too; and they simply voted against. However, I heard the concern, and in the time between submitting the motion and coming to the debate, several of us worked on trying to address it. Should we spell out the presence in the church of other views? By the time amendments had to be put in, we had come up with an amended form of the motion which we thought addressed this, and more. So that was submitted by Chris Dalliston, the Dean of Peterborough, appearing as item 54 on the agenda:

That this Synod:

(a) affirms that all baptised, believing and faithful persons regardless of sexual orientation are full members of the Body of Christ;

(b) delights in the lives and ministries of LGBTQIA+ people in the Church of England;

(c) recognises a legitimate range of theological perspectives, held in good conscience, across the Church of England, on the right ordering of committed, faithful, intimate same-sex relationships, and;

(d) recognises that this includes views that affirm and views that reject the position that there are no fundamental objections to being in such a relationship and that such a relationship can be entirely compatible with Christian discipleship and ministry.

So, basic pastoral message, plus recognition that there are other views within the C of E.

As I was not able to be in York, the motion was moved by Professor Muriel Robinson, who opened by talking about her friends David and Stuart, who have been together since theological college. In their early stages of ministry there was no problem in accepting their relationship, but as they were increasingly badly treated both left ministry, and one gave up on faith. This is a very sad story, and it is not uncommon. Why does the church do this to people?

The chair of the debate chose to hear at an early stage from proposers of amendments to give us a sense of what they were about. The first of those, item 53, was from the Chair of the House of Laity, Jamie Harrison. It is quite long so I shall just summarise it here. He aimed to remove all the pastoral focus of the original motion, making it instead into a brief statement of where we are now; with the Prayers of Love and Faith permitted in existing services and… ah, that’s the problem. There’s nothing else to put on that list. Because nothing else has happened in the direction of welcoming LGBTQIA+ people in the C of E. So the rest of the motion restated that “sexual intimacy” properly belongs within marriage – which was odd as that moves us into opposite-sex relationships, which were not within the scope of my motion. The amendment also tried to reduce the impact of “no fundamental objections” by claiming that there are also “many” people who aren’t certain what they think, and others who think same-sex relationships “run counter to the message of scripture and the Christian tradition”. It ended by mentioning the new Working Group for which we voted in February (although it hasn’t started meeting yet as so far it has only got a chair; no members). 

There were many excellent speeches, including Adam Kendry, an armed forces rep, noting that it is now 26 years since the armed forces got their act together on accepting lesbian and gay people; Anna Norman-Walker, pointing out that the motion was not about liturgy and doctrine, just about the ordinary people in our parishes; Bishop Nick Chamberlain, the first out gay bishop, who as an acting bishop doesn’t have a vote in Synod, pointing out just how bad the times are for LGBTQIA+ people; Graham Kirk-Spriggs, a vicar, on his experience as the only gay person in the room being told “fornicators” won’t inherit the kingdom of God; Martin Auton-Lloyd noted that, in his deanery, there are more clergy in civil partnerships than in marriage. A key theme was how lesbian and gay clergy and lay people ask not for change but simply for recognition of their lives and ministries; as Graham put it, where is he, a lifelong Anglican affirmed? Why is he not included?

There were some rather odd speeches from conservatives, worrying about whether “intimacy” is an ambiguous word (read my supporting paper…); holding up the “is it a duck? is it a rabbit?” optical illusion (don’t ask; but there is an excellent discussion of its use in the debate this morning here); assuming sexual and romantic are the same thing; conjuring up the image of the Church as the Bride of Christ but with a muddy dress (?); and a speech by a traditionalist young woman who is certain that she should not enter a same-sex relationship. That’s, of course, up to her; it doesn’t help those who have found security and growth in such a relationship. 

The voting was complicated. When Jamie Harrison’s amendment (item 53) came to the vote, it was defeated. There was a Vote by Houses (meaning that something has to pass in all three of them) which went:

Bishops 17 in favour, 7 against, 6 abstentions

Clergy 78 in favour, 90 against, 4 abstentions

Laity 88 in favour, 93 against, 1 abstention

So it failed in two houses and thus failed overall. 

When Chris Dalliston’s amendment (item 54) was voted on, however, it passed in all three houses:

Bishops 12 in favour, 8 against, 8 abstentions

Clergy 100 in favour, 68 against, 4 abstentions

Laity 102 in favour, 76 against, 4 abstentions.

Bearing in mind that this amendment entirely replaced my original short motion, you’d perhaps think that the voting on it would be replicated when we went on to vote on ‘the motion as amended’; after all, this had exactly the same words! 

No.

On the final, amended, motion, we voted: 

Bishops 11 in favour, 14 against, 4 abstentions


Clergy 93 in favour, 79 against, 0 abstentions

Laity 101 in favour, 83 against, 0 abstentions.

Assuming that there were roughly the same people in the room or on zoom, some of the clergy seem to have decided they were against rather than in favour, but the overall vote result was a pass; however, the bishops changed their votes in a way that led to the motion failing, because of the House of Bishops. This is very baffling and perhaps some time we will find out what was going on.

In the later debate on Trust, Professor Veronica Hope Hailey commented on how very very odd the C of E is, although what she was thinking about were its structures at national and diocesan level alongside its reliance on volunteers at parish level. She observed that it’s not clear who is in charge; bishops claim that they only have soft power but then look at them at a coronation. I’d add, voting by Houses can also show their power. She noted that Synod just goes round in circles; and that’s what we did on my PMM. 

The day ended with Bishop Robert Springett updating us on safeguarding. A key comment was that safety depends on a culture that will not abide theology being used for coercive purposes. He also supported mandatory reporting rather than reliance on the Seal of the Confessional; this was pushed back on by Bishop Philip North. There was a question about what counts as spiritual abuse, which as I heard it came rather close to asking for support for conversion practices; about spiritual direction; about why not all Lessons Learned Reviews are published; and about the training which has to be carried out in parishes to help people to volunteer as parish safeguarding officers.  

Long day, lots to think about; not least that the bishops suddenly felt unable to support saying that “all baptised, believing and faithful persons regardless of sexual orientation are full members of the Body of Christ”? I am guessing that this is their problem, as I cannot see that they would fail to agree that we have a range of views in the C of E. What message is this sending to those faithful queer people who are clergy and laity – and bishops! – in the C of E?

Dr. Helen King

13th July 2013.

Postscript 

An inspiring article by Charlie Bell:

https://viamedia.news/2026/07/21/the-end-of-the-synod-grieving-for-love/?fbclid=IwdGRjcATMriRjbGNrBMyt9GV4dG4DYWVtAjExAHNydGMGYXBwX2lkDDM1MDY4NTUzMTcyOAABHgnVHn3WcMyXG8N_tOoLMnGAHGcTXzimLZyVRamlpnJQV40HqMzVrfxhAseW_aem_nAMvLsnZvZQ4tWZFfVvf4w

Colin Coward comments:

Charlie doesn't like the word 'campaigner'. I'm a campaigner. Definition: a person who takes part in organized activities that are intended to change something in society. I've been campaigning for over thirty years. There are many people who have been actively campaigning for change for much longer than this. I've sat through Synod debates and experiences far, far worse than this most recent session. 

What happened when the House of Bishops voted on the amended motion is something far, far worse than Charlies analysis identifies. The bishops are living with a fantasy, that a way can be found to keep everyone on board, and especially those who are proving to be so good at attracting wealthy business people to fund those in the church most successful in attracting GenZedders to those congregations that are led by the deeply closeted homophobic conservatives.

The problem with the House of Bishops is their lack of awareness of the contemporary culture of the Church of England and the prejudices and theologies that are now normative. There is a minority n the House of Bishops who have some theological competence and can articulate with passion a vision appropriate to a Church that has always been willing to ordain gay clergy and bishops and more recently to ordain women. But they haven't yet worked out what they really feel and believe about the presence, from the very beginning of the church, of homosexuality in the church and of men who fall in love with other men and women who fall in love with other women - and enjoy intimacy.

The work that needs to be done has to be a total focus on the bishops, one by one, in each diocese, by those of us who get to meet bishops, wherever and whenever, and to organise encounters with them to hear what they have to say for themselves and tell them what we feel about them and want from them.

Part 530. Stuffed by the House of Bishops.

 On 13th July the General Synod of the Church of England considered the following Private Members' Motion in the name of Professor Helen King.

‘That this Synod affirm that there are no fundamental objections to being in a committed, faithful, intimate same-sex relationship, and that such a relationship can be entirely compatible with Christian discipleship.’

The following amendment to the motion was proposed. It deleted all after 'That this Synod'.

a) affirm that all baptised, believing and faithful persons regardless of sexual orientation are full members of the Body of Christ;

 b) delight in the lives and ministries of LGBTQIA+ people in the Church of England;

 c) recognise a legitimate range of theological perspectives, held in good conscience, across the Church of England, on the right ordering of committed, faithful, intimate same-sex relationships, and;

 d) recognise that this includes views that affirm and views that reject the position that there are no fundamental objections to being in such a relationship and that such a relationship can be entirely compatible with Christian discipleship and ministry.

The amendment was carried, voting being as follows:

                     IN FAVOUR AGAINST 

 Bishops       12                      8 

Clergy        100                    68 

Laity          102                    76 

8 abstentions were recorded in the House of Bishops, 4 abstentions in the House of Clergy, and 4 abstentions in the House of Laity.

This wording became the substantive motion.  Voting was as follows:

                 IN FAVOUR    AGAINST

 Bishops       11                    14 

Clergy          93                    79 

Laity          101                    83

 4 abstentions were recorded in the House of Bishops, 0 abstentions in the House of Clergy, and 0 abstentions in the House of Laity.

Thus the motion was lost.  

When the original motion was published John Dunnett, National Director, Church of England Evangelical Council (CEEC),had this to say:

“This motion matters. While it might be viewed by some as committing General Synod to ‘nothing in particular’, this motion shows that the revisionists will find new and different ways to continually push their agenda – away from Scripture, away from our Church’s doctrine and towards liberal change – even when the House of Bishops is not doing so. And were the motion to find support it could be seen as paving the way for further change.

“The big question is how the bishops and indeed the new Archbishop will respond. Will the Archbishop see it as an opportunity to allow Synod to express its mind, or would she prefer the process to be steered by the House of Bishops, and therefore encourage her colleagues to vote against the motion?”

On the face of it Dunnett and his constituency have succeeded, but at the expense of the gay constituency.  The gay community has been stuffed by the bishops. Shocking, 

The voting in the Houses of Clergy and Laity is indicative of the direction of travel towards inclusion.  Voting for membership of the new General Synod takes place later this year.  Will the result of the election maintain the status quo, accentuate the direction of travel, or reverse it?  And what of the bishops: unelected and unaccountable.  

Part 529. With individuals

https://t4cg.substack.com/p/correction-what-about-me-lost-sheep?

The link is to an excellent article by John Clifton. Echoes of ideas considered by Jon Swales and Samuel Wells.

Part 528. Groucho Marx

 

Two Groucho Marx quotes:

Those are my principles, and if you don't like them... well, I have others.

The secret of life is honesty and fair dealing. If you can fake that, you've got it made.

Both may be applied to many politicians on the national stage where U-turns and dissembling are art forms. The first rule of politics to my mind is: say anything that will help you to be re-elected.  My cynicism is matched only by that of politicians plying their trade. 

 

Does the above apply only to politicians? Sadly, no.  The whole notion of public relations is built on the shifting sands of dissembling, evasion and misinformation.  Governments, companies, statutory agencies, churches have thriving public relations departments or employ agencies to do their dirty work. All have systems in place dedicated to promoting their organisations in a positive light and dismissing, downplaying and ignoring questions and comments deemed by their employers to be a potential threat. 

My question is a simple one.  To what extent are the quotations attributed to Marx applicable to the Church of  England?  Think safeguarding, misogyny. mixed ecology, unity and sexuality.  

Part 527. Questions.

Simple questions, but are the answers straightforward?

Should faith groups consciously use the provision of foodbanks and other means of alleviating poverty as opportunities for evangelism?  

A follow-up question.  In tackling issues of social justice: marginalisation, discrimination, exclusion,  racism etc should faith groups concentrate solely on the issues to the exclusion of evangelism?

One more question.  In providing pastoral support to an individual should the support relate to the issue in hand without recourse to any evangelistic input?

I ask these questions as there is debate concerning how churches should engage in social issues/justice. Is the provision and campaigning a launchpad for evangelism?  Or is the provision self-standing: following the teaching and actions attributed to Jesus by the authors of the synoptic gospels? In other words: why do churches engage in tackling social issues, what is the motivation behind it? 

Below is an article by Jon Swales.  Excellent.  Consider in the context of the questions asked above. 

'Throughout his earthly ministry, Jesus did not simply describe the Kingdom of God—he enacted it. He preached, “The Kingdom of God is at hand. Repent and believe the good news,” and then he lived it: healing the sick, forgiving sin, welcoming the overlooked, confronting what dehumanises, and laying down his life in self-giving love. 

This Kingdom—the reign of God—is not removed from the real world. It presses into it. It speaks into how we order our common life—socially, politically, economically, standing over and against systems that crush and exclude, and gathering a people shaped by mercy, justice, and compassion. 

Jesus has inaugurated this Kingdom and will bring it to completion—a world without domination, without injustice, without tears, where there is a tree whose leaves are for the healing of the nations. But for now, we live in the tension of the now and not yet, and in that tension, allegiance to Jesus is worked out in the real.

There is something in Jesus’ ministry that is often softened, or quietly set aside. He did not only comfort the poor; he also confronted the accumulation of wealth. In his opening sermon—the Nazareth manifesto—Jesus reaches back to Jubilee, not as metaphor but as memory: debts released, land restored, lives reset—a loosening of the grip of accumulation so that the poor might breathe again. 

This thread does not sit at the edges of his teaching; it runs through it.

'Blessed are the poor.' 'Woe to you who are rich.' The man building bigger barns while others go without, the rich man stepping over Lazarus at the gate, the call to relinquish, to give, to release. 

This is not a side note in the Gospel; it is part of its centre of gravity.

To be clear, this is not an argument against profit, nor against differences in pay that reflect responsibility, skill, or risk. It is a question of scale. At what point does the gap become so wide that it is no longer incidental, but revealing? At what point does it begin to tell the truth about what we value—and who we do not? We tend to avoid that question, because once you see it clearly, it is difficult to unsee.

Take something ordinary. I saw a post recently about someone going into a supermarket, filling a basket, walking out without paying, and then taking it all straight to a food bank before handing themselves in at a police station. I’m not sure what to do with that, if I’m honest. I’m not against protest, and there are times when civil disobedience matters, but this kind of thing doesn’t quite sit right with me. Still, it made me stop and look again.

It got me thinking about supermarkets—Tesco, Asda, Sainsbury’s—the kind of places most of us move through every week without really thinking about how they are put together. If you look into it even a little, the gap is hard to ignore. Someone on a checkout might be earning £13 or £14 an hour. It is steady work, necessary work—the kind that kept things going when everything else slowed. And yet it is not uncommon for people in those roles to rely on Universal Credit just to make it through the month. Some will visit a food bank; they don’t always say they’re going—sometimes it just becomes another errand you don’t explain. A person can spend an entire afternoon scanning a week’s worth of food for others—the steady beep, item after item—and still go home unsure how they will pay for their own.

Working—and still not enough.

Then you look at the other end. Tesco’s CEO was paid about £9.9 million last year, and Sainsbury’s CEO around £4.9 million—figures you almost read twice just to be sure. Tesco’s own reporting puts the pay ratio at roughly 400:1, which is difficult to picture in any meaningful way, but it effectively means a CEO can earn in a year what a typical worker would not earn across a lifetime, or several. The issue is not that these roles are identical; they are not. The issue is the distance between them. 

Because beyond a certain point, disparity does more than differentiate—it distorts. It begins to signal whose contribution really counts, and whose does not, quietly shaping our sense of what is normal.

And then there is profit. Tesco made around £2.8 billion in operating profit last year, and Sainsbury’s just under £1 billion. These are large, successful businesses doing what they are designed to do. But set alongside that is something harder to ignore. The Trussell Trust distributed just over 3.1 million emergency food parcels in 2023/24—the highest number on record, with many going to families with children. More and more, those needing this support are in work.

That is the part that lingers.

Not just poverty, but in-work poverty—people earning, contributing, showing up, and still not quite managing to get by. You begin to notice the overlap: the same towns, the same high streets, supermarkets that are busy and functioning, and nearby—often closer than you’d think—food banks trying to keep pace with demand. I don’t think profit, in itself, is the issue. But when profits are measured in billions, and at the same time millions of food parcels are being handed out, it becomes difficult to pretend those realities sit easily together.

Or perhaps more honestly, that they do—and that’s the problem.

Jesus spoke into a world marked by inequality too. The structures were different, but the patterns are familiar: wealth concentrated among elites—landowners, tax collectors, those aligned with imperial power—while many lived close to the edge, vulnerable to debt, loss, and hunger. Into that world, Jesus speaks plainly. He names the poor as blessed, warns the rich, and imagines an economy shaped not by endless accumulation but by release, restoration, and enough.

When we look at our own world, the parallels are difficult to ignore. The language has changed and the mechanisms are more complex, but the gap remains—and in many places it is widening. In the UK, we have normalised a quiet contradiction: people in work who are still poor, food banks woven into the fabric of communities, hardship that rarely makes headlines but is felt in kitchens, in compromises, in sleepless nights. Alongside this sits extraordinary accumulation at the top. Again, the question is not whether business, enterprise, or reward are good—they can be—but whether the scale of inequality we are living with can be squared with the Kingdom that Jesus announces.

At a certain point, it is not simply a tension to manage.

It is a contradiction to face.

This is not separate from the wider crisis we are living through. The same patterns—accumulation without limit, growth without restraint—are shaping not only our economies but our relationship with the earth itself. We are already living with the consequences: floods, fires, instability. And again, it is the poorest who bear the heaviest weight, those with the least margin absorbing the greatest shock.

So the question returns—not as abstraction, but as invitation. What does it mean to take Jesus seriously here—not as an idea or a slogan, but as Lord? 

It begins with seeing clearly, refusing to look away from the scale of inequality we have learned to call normal. It means allowing the words of Jesus to land with their full weight, even where they unsettle us. And then, in ways both small and costly—and sometimes inconvenient in ways we would rather avoid—it means learning to live otherwise: with generosity that interrupts accumulation, with attention to those being edged out, with communities that measure worth differently.

Because we are not neutral in this.

We are being formed—by the market, or by the Kingdom.'

Rev'd Jon Swales

 

Part 526. Reconstruction: building afresh

Below is an article written in 2024 by the Revd. Jon Swales, Team Vicar at St. George's Church, Leeds and the Founder of Lighthouse West Yorkshire.  I commend it to you.  It brings out with clarity the important point that deconstruction is not a negative dead end.   It is, for many, the precursor to a life following the teaching and actions ascribed to Jesus by the authors of the synoptic gospels.

                             -----------

Deconstruction isn't merely a buzzword; it's a profound existential journey that countless souls embark upon. It's about shedding the old, the familiar, the once-unchallenged bastions of theological certainty. We're talking about those systems and structures that held us tight, promising safety and solace in a world teeming with uncertainties. But now, they lie discarded, their foundations cracked under the weight of relentless questioning.

For many of us, it wasn't just a matter of intellectual curiosity; it was a soul-deep reckoning. The neatly packaged doctrines, the tidy theological explanations—they simply couldn't bear the weight of our doubts and dilemmas. We found ourselves wrestling with the thorniest of questions, questions that refused to be silenced by pat answers.

Do we truly believe in a hell where souls suffer for eternity in torment? Can we reconcile an all-powerful, all-loving God with the staggering injustice and suffering that pervade our world? And what about scripture—can we still call it God's word when it recounts tales of divine commands to annihilate entire populations? In the face of climate breakdown, why is the church complicit by silence and lifestyle in unrestrained capitalism and consumerism?

But it's not just about theology; it's about the lived experience of faith. It's about the glaring gaps between the ideals preached from pulpits and the harsh realities we encounter in our spiritual leaders and communities. For some, it's the failure of the church to embody the radical compassion of Jesus. It's the wounds inflicted by those that were meant to offer healing and hope.

In the midst of this upheaval, deconstruction becomes a deeply personal journey. For some, it's a process of refinement, of sifting through the rubble of our beliefs to uncover something truer, something more authentic. Yet, for others, it's also a raw and messy ordeal—a wrecking ball that shatters the carefully constructed edifices of our souls.

But amidst the refinement and the rubble, there's also possibility—the chance to rebuild, to reimagine, to rediscover faith in its most honest and unadorned form. Deconstruction isn't just about tearing down; it's about making space for something new to emerge, something more resilient, more compassionate, more true.

In my journey of deconstruction, I have found life-giving strength in the person and work of Jesus. He, in his beauty and grace, is my compass, guide, and consolation. The church may fail, doctrines once concrete dogma are now challenged and malleable, but Christ is compelling.

Another way of putting this is that love alone is credible and offers a beauty that leads us onwards . My former beliefs and dogma have been weighed in the scales and found wanting, but love is my journey, my guide and my destination. Christ, the one who is love, holds my affection, and he, praise God, holds me.

- Jon Swales 2024

Part 525. The role of scripture

Below is an article by Jim Palmer.  I concur with his conclusion.

Jim Palmer 

People will often say, “My authority is the Bible.”

The reality is usually more complicated. Their authority is rarely the Bible alone. It is the Bible as interpreted through the theological tradition, community, and assumptions that formed them.

There has never been a singular, universally accepted interpretation of the Bible. Throughout Christian history, believers have disagreed about nearly every major doctrine associated with the faith. Christians have debated the nature of Jesus, the character of God, the reality of hell, the meaning of salvation, the doctrine of original sin, the Trinity, free will, predestination, and countless other theological questions. 

The idea that there exists a timeless and universally recognized form of “Biblical Christianity” becomes difficult to sustain once one becomes familiar with the history of Christian thought.

What one community regards as biblical truth, another regards as error. What one denomination treats as essential doctrine, another dismisses as theological speculation. The text has remained relatively stable. The interpretations have not.

This should not surprise us. Every act of interpretation is shaped long before a person opens a sacred text. Readers bring assumptions about what the Bible is, what kind of authority it possesses, and how it should be read. Some approach scripture as literal history. Others see myth, metaphor, poetry, and symbol. Some seek certainty. Others seek wisdom. Some welcome revision in light of new information, while others regard changing one's mind as a threat to faith itself. The text never arrives alone. Neither does the reader.

What many people fail to recognize is that interpretation is not something that happens after reading the Bible. Interpretation begins before reading the Bible. The lens precedes the reading. The framework precedes the conclusion.

This is why appeals to “the Bible clearly teaches” don't work. What seems clear to one person isn't to someone standing within a different theological tradition. Human beings have a remarkable tendency to mistake their interpretation of reality for reality itself. Religion is no exception.

Ironically, Jesus appears to have understood this dynamic better than many of his followers.

The religious culture in which Jesus lived was deeply anchored in sacred texts and authoritative interpretations. Yet Jesus rarely taught through systematic theology. He taught through stories, images, parables, questions, and encounters drawn from ordinary life.

Again and again, his sharpest criticisms were aimed not at scripture itself but at those who had become trapped within their interpretations of scripture. The issue was not the text itself but the assumption that possessing the text was equivalent to possessing truth.

This helps illuminate one of the most striking statements attributed to him: “You search the scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life, but you refuse to come to me to have life.”

The criticism remains relevant. A sacred text can become a substitute for the reality toward which it points. A map can become more important than the territory. A finger can become more important than the moon. A book can become more important than life itself.

This is the danger of bibliolatry: mistaking a witness to reality for reality itself.

Viewed differently, the Bible becomes far more interesting than either its fundamentalist defenders or its dismissive critics often acknowledge. It is not a systematic theology. It is not a doctrinal handbook. It is a sprawling literary anthology composed over many centuries by numerous authors wrestling with the deepest questions human beings have ever asked.

Across its many voices, the Bible wrestles with the enduring questions of human existence: suffering, meaning, justice, power, love, mortality, transcendence, and the challenge of how to live.

The Bible contains poetry, myth, history, wisdom literature, prophecy, political critique, letters, visions, and stories. It preserves humanity at its noblest and humanity at its most destructive. It contains beauty, violence, compassion, tribalism, liberation, oppression, wisdom, and folly. Like humanity itself, it is complicated.

Many modern critics assume the Bible deserves ridicule because some readers insist that every story must be interpreted literally. Yet this criticism often grants fundamentalism the very assumption it seeks to challenge. The deeper question is not whether Jonah was literally swallowed by a fish. The deeper question is why a story about resistance, avoidance, transformation, and reluctant responsibility continues to resonate thousands of years later.

The enduring power of these stories may lie less in their factual status than in their ability to illuminate dimensions of human experience that remain recognizable across cultures and generations.

Yet even if one grants all of this, the Bible cannot function as the ultimate authority for a human life. No description can fully contain reality. No formulation can exhaust truth. No sacred text can relieve us of the responsibility of direct encounter.

SSacred texts can inform us. They can challenge us. They can inspire us. They can deepen our understanding. But they cannot do our seeing for us.

At some point every person must decide whether authority resides primarily in inherited interpretations or in the difficult and ongoing work of direct engagement with reality itself.

The deepest authority is not found in a text, a tradition, an institution, or an expert. It emerges through conscience, awareness, experience, discernment, and an ever-deepening relationship with reality.

Sacred texts may accompany that journey.

They may illuminate it.

They may enrich it.

But they cannot live it for us.

Sooner or later, each of us must decide whether we will merely inherit our understanding of reality or participate in discovering it for ourselves.

Jim Palmer

Part 524. Prophetic Outsider

I am an Anglican in a diocese mostly conservative evangelical in its theological outlook. This makes me feel I am an outsider as I advance ideas from radical, liberal, liberation, progressive, postmodern and deconstructivist perspectives. The ideas I espouse have been described as prophetic, or was that pathetic?

I have been an outsider since I commenced my studies at secondary school and this  continued through university and employment in education and local government, my involvement in local politics and my relationship with organised religion.  It is as though I have been looking in, participating, but distant.  This has nothing to do with shyness or ability to relate to people.  Rather, it is my reluctance to sign up unreservedly to the ethos of an  organisation, whether it be an education establishment, a council, a political party or a church

This article contains little, probably nothing that is original. It is commentary and observation. It is emphasised that I am not a theologian, my discipline is law, although I did manage to scrape a diploma in theology awarded by a prestigious university

I choose to seek to follow in the way of Jesus, to follow and apply his teaching, to follow and act like him: above all to live out his statement to love our neighbour. In other words how I relate and with others to the principle of love, to the concept of inclusion, to the elimination of poverty. I have no desire to follow church doctrine, dogma, or tradition, or be bound by literal interpretation of scripture.

The life, teaching and actions attributed to Jesus in the synoptic gospels are the product of multiple edits of material, mostly oral tradition. They are an human construct: not given or inspired by an unknown metaphysical 'entity'. They act as a guide to assist us on our journey to treat all people equally: they are not a user manual to be pored over and applied literally.

To follow Jesus in word and deed requires an individual to think and engage in actions motivated by loving-kindness. Loving-kindness is not an attribute only of Christians: it is recognisable in other faiths and in individuals of a secular disposition. Loving-kindness is unconditional love rooted in the concept of the interconnectedness of all people. As a concept it is closely related to love your neighbour and the Golden Rule: treat others as you would want to be treated. It is an attitude of mind that translates into action: to assist individuals at point of need and to campaign for social justice. Christians do not have a monopoly of the principle 'love your neighbour'.  Worldwide similar expressions of desired behaviour are to be found in a broad range of faiths, as well as in the secular world. The Golden Rule, promotes a high standard of ethical behaviour.  It is a consequence of my background, experience etc that I approach the Golden Rule from a Christian perspective.

There was a period when I was divorced, penniless, homeless, unemployed and lonely. The effect on me was one of despondency bordering on depression. Live for today and dread what tomorrow might bring. This experience brought home to me the inadeqacy, indeed downright failure, of the statutory sector to provide meaningful assistance at my point of need. Also it highlighted the importance of systemic change to overcome the social injustice ruining the lives of so many individuals. The help I did receive came from the voluntary sector, from secular and faith charities, importantly from individuals working on a paid or voluntary basis for these organisations.

During this time I witnessed, indeed was a member of, a community in an area of multiple deprivation. Poor housing, sink schools, inadequate health facllities, woeful public transport, and grinding poverty, all with no hope of improvement. My response initially was to engage in local politics. However it was obvious very quickly that local government moves very slowly and is constrained severely by central government fiscal, economic and social policies.

It was at this juncture I became involved with an umbrella church organisation promoting social responsibility. Over a long period the organisation supported faith groups engaged in meeting the immediate needs of individuals: food, shelter, clothing, debt advice, as well as campaigning for a credit union and engaging in the development of the local community plan. The activities of the organisation were underpinned by the theological imperative to love your neighbour and reference to Old and New Testament verses expressing the necessity of helping people at point of need and  also for systemic change to achieve social justice.

My current thinking has ingredients from inter alia, humanism, existentialism, postmodernism, radical, liberal, progressive, liberation and deconstructivist theology. I describe it as a melange (or should it read 'mess'?).  My ideas are influenced by non theological factors. Politically I subscribe to democratic socialism. Earlier I referred to my  chaotic personal life of many years ago: divorce, destitution, sofa-surfing homelessness, and unemployment: all concurrently.  These experiences still deeply influence my actions and my political and theological opinions.  

We should escape from a theological silo mentality  by seeking to understand interactions between religion, politics, economics, sociology, ethics, law, environment etc.  Theology should not be about doctrine, dogma creeds and biblical interpretation to the exclusion of  understanding and application of said to the realities of life for individuals, a reality shaped by myriad factors.  We can apply  theological ideas without recourse, reliance, or reference to scripture interpretation, church doctrine, dogma or creeds.  We do not need guardians, sentries or gatekeepers of church or academia to understand and apply our theological ideas.  It is for us, and us alone, to determine the relationship of theological concepts to our own lives and how our lives affect our theology.  The relationship is symbiotic.  It must be remembered that our lives are shaped by our experience, reason, tradition, relationships, work, poverty, family, political opinions etc and these factors impinge of our thoughts and actions, theological and otherwise, in many instances being what Oliver Wendell Holmes called inarticulate major premises.

If there is an entity we name as 'God' it is beyond human imagination, incapable of definition or description or symbolism. Judaic and christian scripture perceives God as being transcendent, supernatural, metaphysical and anthropomorphic.  Human supposition is opinion, not fact.  The scriptures are not the divine outpourings of God.  Marcus J  Borg states it well: 

 'I let go of the notion that the Bible is a divine product. I learned that it is a human cultural product, the product of two ancient communities, biblical Israel and early Christianity. As such, it contained their understandings and affirmations, statements not coming directly or somewhat directly from God.....I realised that whatever "divine revelation" and the "inspiration of the Bible" meant (if they meant anything), they did not mean that the Bible was a divine product with divine authority.'

Colin Coward expresses brilliantly how the gospels came into being, how they are used by the Church of England and argues for fundamental change in attitude:

 'Reflecting on the Holy Week and Easter stories over the past weekend, I have done so not thinking or believing that the Gospels are verbatim accounts given by, let alone written by those who witnessed these events. They are edited and re-edited stories based on oral accounts that had been told and retold and embroidered by the Jesus-followers, the first witnesses, the early Christian gatherings, and those who subsequently joined the Jesus-centred communities. To the oral accounts that formed the basis of the Gospels were added stories told to and re-told and experienced and embroidered by Paul (with the help of Luke).

Belief is a dilemma for me because I do not believe in what is rehearsed in church every Sunday and maintained by the authority of the institution as adequately representing an adequate vision of the Jesus who transforms life and culture. The Gospels and Acts and the history books of the Hebrew scriptures are not accurate, historical accounts of the events and lives they describe. History never is accurate but always a personal view and interpretation. The contemporary “traditional, orthodox, Biblical” ways of our religious systems do not, for me, embrace the essence and heart of Jesus’ life and teachings. We live with ideas about God and Jesus and the Holy Spirit that are human interpretations of Jesus’ teachings and essence. All knowledge is developed and communicated through the medium of human understanding. Any distortion or misunderstanding of the teachings of Jesus is the result of human failure to comprehend. Throughout my life I have been trying to disentangle the ingredients of distortion and error from healthier wisdom and truth, trying to be more aware of and recapture and synthesise the essence of a holy, sacred, incarnated transformational wisdom that helps us embrace the essence of life in all its fulness.

Whether we are aware or not, all of us are dealing with myths and the development of human interpretations and teachings and corruptions of the divine human we worship as Son of God.

We continue to have great difficulty in distinguishing the unhealthy divine attributions that are fundamental corruptions of Jesus’ life and teachings from the Jesus’ essence that is the catalyst for healthy, creative consciousness that make life in all its fulness into real presence.'

It really does not matter if Jesus was an actual person. What does matter is the principle of love and how we in the twenty-first century CE interpret that principle for the future. Of course the Sermon on the Mount and the parables assist us in our understanding and application of the corpus of statements attributed to Jesus. Borg puts it well:

'Properly understood the Bible is a potential ally to the progressive Christian passion for transformation of ourselves and the world. It is our great heritage. Along with Jesus, to whom it is subordinate, it is our greatest treasure.'

God it is beyond description, it is of our imagination and searching for explanation of how the universe came into existence, what it is and our place in it. Humanity's enquiry has elicited some understanding of the universe but can we comprehend its vastness? I cannot even begin to provide an answer to the God question. I know my mortality: soon enough I shall die,  and then what?  

Don Cupitt expressed the following opinion:

You can't slip a knife between them  If you love your fellow human being, you know God and are in God, whereas if you don't love, you don't know God.  The word God doesn't designate a distinct metaphysical being; it is simply Love's name. 

My understanding of what it means to hold to Christian belief has moved away from unquestioning acceptance of church creeds, doctrine and dogma. I do not regard scripture as literally the word of God, nor the result of God's inspiration, and therefore not to be challenged.  Scripture, creeds, doctrine and dogma are human creations in their entireties and not the result of activity by metaphysical or anthropomorphic sources. 

The bible is not a statement of rules set out by an omnipresent god 'out there' that have to be followed if we are to receive the reward of eternal life.   It sets out the ideas of authors over 2000 years ago.  The world has moved on.  Christian belief evolves: it is not set in stone by manuscripts written long ago.  But we should not consign the bible to the scrapheap.  It is a valuable source and resource of concepts. Yet we need to remember that it is of human origin and not to be cloaked with the veneer of the divine.

It is my perception that we have allowed ourselves to be hemmed in by church doctrine and dogma and  by scripture.  No matter what method of biblical interpretation is used: literal, liberal, historical, progressive etc, we permit our ideas to be contained and constrained within the parameters or envelope of scripture. It is as though our understanding of God's purpose is fixed in work composed in a distant past

Surely we can do better than be boxed in by the gatekeepers and guardians of 'the truth'?  We can be inspired by concepts attributed by the authors of the synoptic gospels to a person we know as Jesus, but we need to appreciate that the concepts are subjective and capable of varied interpretations, not objective unchangeable 'truth'.  Flexibility, not rigidity, is the order of the day.

You might think I am a humanist, or even an atheist, in expressing the opinions very briefly outlined above.  I reject both appellations. It is my opinion that inherent within each of us is the power to love: to love our neighbour.  So I argue love is God within us, it is our task to tease out what that means.  Jesus points the way, but his is not the final nor only word.  Our understanding of what it is to love should not be bound by adherence, however interpreted, to scripture. It is not a user manual.  Yes, scripture may assist our use of reason, our understanding, and our actions; it must not be used to prescribe or proscribe how we apply the principle of love your neighbour.  

So I turn from the unknown and direct my energies to consideration of and campaigning on concrete issues: combating poverty, deprivation, racism, misogyny, marginalisation, discrimination and exclusion, not only at point of need but also by campaigning for systemic change to achieve social justice. In this endeavour the way of life concepts attributed to Jesus in the synoptic gospels together with ideas developed by Liberation Theology theologians such as Gustavo Gutiérrez and Jurgen Moltmann have been the major influences on my thinking and action.

I enjoy attending Choral Evensong.

The Church of England Book of Common Prayer (BCP) contains the service of Evening Prayer.  Following the reading from the Old Testament the congregation say or sing Magnificat taken from Luke 1: 46-55.  

The BCP states verses 52-53 as follows:

He hath put down the mighty from their seat: and exalted the humble and meek.

He hath filled the hungry with good things: and the rich he hath sent empty away.

Congregations say or sing these words, but do many understand the principles behind them?  How do we, of fail to, apply them in the present to individuals and society?  How do we understand them through the lens of love? We  should understand them as an illustration of love by applying our intelligence and power of reason, not by a rigid, literal, limiting interpretion of individual words.

I do not claim to be a Christian.  Rather, I seek to follow the teaching attributed to Jesus by the authors of the synoptic gospels.  My reading of them is heavily influenced by postmodernism, with particular regard to the ideas formulated by Jacques Derrida.

The synoptic gospels were written many years after the death of Jesus.  No tape-recorders or social media to record verbatim the words he spoke. Instead we have the mysterious 'Q' source, myths, stories, customs handed down from generation to generation to which has to be added the interpretation of this body of information  by the authors and the purpose each of the them had in mind for the material.  Not the firmest foundation on which to develop a theology based on the bible being the inerrant word of God, to be understood and applied literally. 

To understand the reason why Jesus was crucified by the Roman authority in Palestine it is important to tease out why Jesus was perceived to be a political threat to the established  order.  Rome was an occupying power.  It had no problem with conquered nations practicising there indigenous religion and customs, Roman law was the preserve of Roman citizens.  However Rome would not countenance threats to its authority and this is precisely what Jesus was perceived as doing.  On Palm Sunday Jesus rode into Jerusalem to wide acclaim: hosanna they cried.  Here was an existential threat to Roman rule in Palestine, the long-awaited and prophesied servant of God, fomenting an uprising,  who would bring about Jewish independence and sovereignty. The crime was sedition and crucifixion the penalty.

The Roman authority was aided and abetted by the Jewish religious leadership. Jesus had explained on numerous occasions the failure of religious leaders to apply concepts of love and justice as set out in Hebrew scripture.  His elimination would dispose of a threat to their authority.  Yes, Jesus was political, perceived to be a major threat to the stability of the political and religious establishments.  He had to go.

There was a further factor in play:  Jesus is portrayed by the synoptic gospel authors as having challenged economic and social orders, which of course, had political implications.  Hebrew scripture has many exhortations relating to caring for the poor and for systemic change to achieve social justice.  These themes continue in the synoptic gospels: the Sermon on the Mount, the Magnificat, the parables, the commandment to love your neighbour as yourself and following Jesus to bring heaven on earth.  All were threats to the established faith, political and social orders and hierarchies.  They had a political dimension as statements of the need for fundamental change in the ordering of society.

Those of us who have a progressive/liberation theology mindset take these teachings attributed to Jesus and seek to apply the concepts to today's societies.  But, the danger is that we may take a patronising or paternalitic approach, we may act as gatekeepers or guardians of the 'truth'.  In other words our approach often is deductive. Instead we need to take an inductive approach: ask the marginalised, poor and excluded what the teaching of Jesus means to them: not tell them what it means for them. 

The concepts attributed to Jesus by the authors of the synoptic gospels draw on a rich vein of social concern to be discerned in Jewish scripture appropriated to Christianity as the Old Testament.  It is concern for the poor, the marginalised, the discriminated against, the excluded.  It is a call not only to help at point of need but also to change societal structures to overcome the issues.  The teaching of Jesus is not a manual for applying a set of rules: it is a collection of broad principles capable of evolving and developing to meet the challenges of today's society.

To challenge the status quo, to demand change is to challenge  society's priorities, prejudices, allocation of resources.  It is a challenge to the political process, to faith, economic and social structures.  The Jesus as portrayed by the authors of the synoptic gospels delivered a radical political message.  

As his followers so should we.  

Postscript 

My attention has been drawn to the following article.  

Palmer on Russell

 

Bertrand Russell was one of the twentieth century's most influential critics of religion. He rejected dogma, challenged religious authority, and regarded many traditional beliefs as obstacles to human freedom and intellectual honesty. 

Yet in one remarkable passage, he offered a vision of what religion might become if it abandoned fear, submission, and prohibition in favor of courage, creativity, and human flourishing. More than a century later, his challenge remains as provocative as ever.

Russell wrote: 

“If a religious view of life and the world is ever to reconquer the thoughts and feelings of free-minded men and women, much that we are accustomed to associate with religion will have to be discarded. The first and greatest change that is required is to establish a morality of initiative, not a morality of submission, a morality of hope rather than fear, of things to be done rather than of things to be left undone. It is not the whole duty of man to slip through the world so as to escape the wrath of God. The world is our world, and it rests with us to make it a heaven or a hell. The power is ours, and the kingdom and the glory would be ours also if we had courage and insight to create them. The religious life that we must seek will not be one of occasional solemnity and superstitious prohibitions, it will not be sad or ascetic, it will concern itself little with rules of conduct. It will be inspired by a vision of what human life may be, and will be happy with the joy of creation, living in a large free world of initiative and hope. It will love mankind, not for what they are to the outward eye, but for what imagination shows that they have it in them to become. It will not readily condemn, but it will give praise to positive achievement rather than negative sinlessness, to the joy of life, the quick affection, the creative insight, by which the world may grow young and beautiful and filled with vigor.” 

First, Russell argued that religion should cultivate initiative rather than submission. Too often, religion has encouraged people to obey, conform, and defer to authority. Russell believed that a mature spiritual life should instead encourage human beings to think, create, and take responsibility for shaping the world. A religion that treats obedience as the highest virtue inevitably trains people to look outside themselves for permission to live.

Second, he believed morality should be grounded in hope rather than fear. Many religious systems have relied heavily on fear: fear of punishment, fear of sin, fear of divine judgment. Russell envisioned a moral framework motivated by the possibility of creating something better rather than avoiding something worse. Fear may produce compliance, but it rarely produces wisdom, courage, or genuine moral maturity.

Third, Russell shifted the focus from prohibition to participation. Much of traditional morality has been organized around avoidance: don't do this, don't think that, don't cross this line. Russell regarded such an approach as fundamentally inadequate. The measure of a life is not how successfully it avoids wrongdoing but what it contributes to the world. A person can spend an entire lifetime staying out of trouble and leave nothing behind except a record of cautious compliance.

Fourth, Russell rejected the idea that the purpose of life is simply to escape divine wrath or secure a place in the afterlife. The world, he argued, is our responsibility. Whether it becomes more humane or more destructive depends largely upon human courage, wisdom, and imagination. Any worldview that prioritizes the next world over this one risks becoming indifferent to suffering, injustice, and human flourishing here and now.

Fifth, he believed religion should inspire engagement with life rather than withdrawal from it. Spirituality need not be gloomy, ascetic, or obsessed with rule-keeping. It can be joyful, creative, and deeply connected to the realities of ordinary human existence. Russell was challenging the longstanding assumption that holiness requires distance from life rather than deeper participation in it.

Sixth, Russell emphasized human potential. He suggested that we should learn to see people not merely as they are but as they might become. The task is not endless condemnation but the cultivation of conditions in which growth, creativity, and human flourishing can occur. Communities that define people primarily by their failures rarely help them become anything greater than those failures.

Finally, he argued that positive achievement matters more than negative sinlessness. A life defined solely by avoiding mistakes is too small. The qualities that renew the world are courage, affection, imagination, creativity, and the willingness to participate fully in life. History is not shaped by those who merely avoided wrongdoing. It is shaped by those willing to risk failure in the service of creating something new.

Beneath Russell's critique lies a deeper question: what kind of human beings are our belief systems producing? Do they cultivate courage, imagination, responsibility, and participation, or do they cultivate dependence, conformity, and fear? Russell's concern was never simply whether religion was true. Russell's concern was never simply whether religion was true. His concern was whether religion was helping people become more fully human.

Jim Palmer