The disruptive power of the gospel

I've been travelling this week through the seven churches of Asia, now Turkey, to which John is commanded to write in the book of Revelation. This hasn't proved too arduous, fortified by Turkish fish lunches and soft wine-fuelled suppers.

It's difficult to imagine in the gentle May sunshine and under the pomegranate blossom that these early churches lived in great fear of Roman oppression - it's why John is said to have written so much of his Revelation in code, to protect his correspondents.

But I'm struck also by how little has changed since he wrote his extended letter. At Pergamon, there's a Roman amphitheatre that you reach by passing through an ancient shopping mall, just like we're offered retail therapy at the National theatre or Royal Shakespeare Company. At the ruins of the city of Aphrodisias, there is an old surviving inscription that tells people not to throw their rubbish out of the gate.

And it seems that nothing much changes in churches either. John is forever exhorting the churches not to give up hope; that if they hold fast to their faith all will be well.

Sometimes he's encouraging, sometimes he admonishes, sometimes he's downright rude. My favourite is when he accuses the church in Laodicea of being "neither hot nor cold but lukewarm" and claims that the angel of the Lord wants to "spew you out of my mouth".

Laodicea lies between Pamukkale, which has hot springs, and Colossae, which has cold mountain water, so its water temperature is somewhere in between - John, writing on the island of Patmos, certainly knew his churches.

But no one thinks that John is writing about water quality. This is a church that has grown insipid and bland, easy with itself for being easy. Not unlike a few of our churches today, or the arguments that we have in them. Christian arguments become bland when they cease to be transformative, disruptive and radical. This doesn't always mean doing the latest thing that is demanded, or simply appeasing public opinion.

When John wrote his letter to the Laodiceans, he was accusing them of being smug because they were wealthy, rather than rich in spirit as they were intended to be. As I write in my piece "God is the new CEO" in this week's New Statesman, there are strong signs that Christians in the City of London are recognising that the gospel shouldn't serve the markets, but the other way around. I call these the new Power Christians, because they are serving a power beyond free-market liberalism.

The faith of this new generation of Power Christians is one which is unashamed; convinced of the power of the gospel to transform not just personal lives but the whole framework through which financial institutions operate. These pin-striped disciples are anything but lukewarm. They seem to have a new willingness to bring disruption to the markets for the good of the City and the nation as a whole; and unlike their predecessors they are no longer afraid to use religious rhetoric when doing so.

Surprisingly, they are not being mocked for it, but listened to; their prophetic voices being heard within a climate that seems more ready to accept the Christian alternative than it was a decade ago.
It is not only the markets that are in need of this transforming power. It's the same in all areas of our lives. The gospel shouldn't serve our social attitudes, but the other way around. We should be having arguments about these attitudes and enjoying them.



George Pitcher is a journalist, author, public relations pioneer and Anglican priest. - Evangelical Alliance

Poem: The only happy feel

When nights fall and the drama begins to fade,
I take time to meditate on my hearts ways,
Longing to need my lover's kiss, but she won't recognize me,
So I asked her to the prom,
She rejected whilst drunk on rum,
And I was high on gin.
Ambition to get past this melancholy feel,
So I'm staring long at her picture strong,
But I cannot cry,
Besides I tried, but she is not feeling me,
I wish someone would say they need me,
Because I am bleeding for joy, and thirsty for love,
Spent too long in my own mind,
Walking under the sky,
I am getting desperate eyes,
Weary of being alive, no community would have me,
I guess its my look, my mixed eyes with a face that hardly smiles,
Begrudging my fate,
It seems the music is full of hate, for a guy like me,
Where death is the only happy feel

K.Oni

Miscellanies 79: Make much of others

The truth is, I understand well one of the principles of life, namely to make much of other people as you can. Lift them up, and do surprisingly great deeds for them. If you know their fancy, if you understand that which makes them smile, do it as much as it is possible, or when the opportunity presents itself. If they are engaged in something, offer help honestly. When there is a chore, do it, so that they would not have to do it. Let them see your kindness as clear as the lover his lover's beautiful eyes. Do it as that selfless Apostle who encouraged the children of light, namely to do nothing out of selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility to count others more significant than themselves. Look not only for your interest, but also to the interest of others. In fact I say, search for their interest first, trace after it as that poor woman who lost her gold coin and turned her house upside down until she found it.

And what a life lived is the soul who lives this way! And in so doing, do not expect others to do it in such a mighty way towards you. Nay, do not let their thankfulness or reciprocal be your reward. Let it come from him who sits on that high throne in heaven. Indeed I know this principle well, I know it is what I must do, it is what I ought to do, it is what humanity ought to bestow upon each other as a daily gift as the sun does give its heat to the flowers. O I know this principle well but seldom do I exude it, for I fear that in all my doings it shall all be done conceitedly and for selfish gain. So my heart tells me, no Ken, do not be so kind for she may mistake your gestures, nay do not run errands for him, for he may think that you are only doing such things in order to be loved by him. No, says my heart, you are doing such deeds for the wrong reasons and such thinking does keep me locked up in my self-pitied dungeon. As a result, I wish for none to show me kindness and in so doing, I am far in doing it to others. I am far in asking others of what their need is and in ever great distance of asking for their help. I would rather my concerns skip humanity and fly straight into the courts of God. But here is where I err, for God has giving us one another to be that blessing of comfort. If this is your condition, repent and be about the business of renewing your mind according to the ways of Christ.

But I do see some go so far in length for others. It is as if they swam the entire sea just to do good to them. Making much of others seem to be their happiness and it makes my heart glad. But how much glad will my heart be if I do it myself. How much more like Jesus, meek, selfless and cross-bearing, not for his sake but for the miserable sakes of sinners, so that in Christ carrying their cross they may be free to run wild in the golden streets of heaven. They have their hearts happy and in seeing that, Christ smiles too, sharing in their joy because it was all his doing.

Make much of others. Indeed it is contrary to the prideful spirit which is common to all humanity, but true love submits. It submits itself to adoration and praise but never to evil, and evil is (as it relates to us) in doing things out of selfish ambition and not counting others more significant than ourselves. I hope I am not mistaken in this, and if I am, it is my fault, my crimson faults for not being well acquainted with clarity.
In love do I submit my heart to you.

A traveling pilgrim
Ken Oni

Poem: It is with me

It is with me as the poor man's plea

For a change, to a hostel sleep

But not as deep as Poseidon's sea

Or as high as the Messiah's seat.

My love is mortal at best

When it rest, no jest can undo thy vest,

For it sets in a heart with sinful pests,

It rest amidst a fraudulent will.

It is with me as any mother's child,

My love for thee, is as odd as all things rare.  

K.Oni

Poem: If ever

A poem for Ben Saunders

If ever a gentle river had a soul, It would yours be.
If ever a stream beamed with light, It would yours display.
And if ever the sunshine smiled, It would yours discover, and rest in eternal blush.
If ever a friend I need,
Whose deeds is as innocent as rainbow's kids,
Then yours, in rush I employ, 
Along with ten thousands more.*


*By this phrase it means that not only me but a lot of other people would seek his help too.

K.Oni

Poem: Woman in beauty

When the sun sets beneath its shades, 

Covered by mountains underneath its aims, 

When clouds aloof the awesome sky

Below the earth of arduous rise, 

Then I am a shooting star, 

A releasing arm in a lover's town, 

Where once, I saw her ravened black hair, 

Glimmering with life that only Cano Cristales* could live – poverty in Spirit,

An enemy to villainy,

Woman in beauty, a sage in learning and a Christ in holiness.

* Cano Christales is known as "the river that ran away from paradise" and it is located in northern Columbia

K.oni

Miscellanies 78: Her waters emptied itself through my holed cup

In all truths as I can barely afford it, I am glad that things did not turn out this way, namely that I am not hers, for I could never afford the life fitting for her manners. I am not the adventurer, nay, never the goer but the reflective kind, to sit by springs and muse with flowers and paint with the rainbow. I have none of that beat to go anywhere where the world treads and holds in high pride. I am much too grey, too shy. I prefer much to lay among green pastures, whose delicacy, human foot have forsaken for the harsh concrete. It is therefore to be praised that her waters emptied itself through my holed cup and I drank nothing but air.  

K.Oni