This is my ministry message for The Vision, the quarterly newssheet of KSSM, for December 2019.
In the December pew-sheet I wrote about respect and how in Australia the reputation of The Church has suffered with the ongoing news reports of Christians behaving badly. Not only across many channels of TV news and through the print media of newspapers and magazines, but also online through Facebook and Twitter many people of many forms of faith have been making heard their complaint. This is rightly so to some degree. But I made that point in the pew-sheet, and I have made that point in my public prayers on Sundays, so I don’t need to make it again.
What then of the good reputation of Church? Is there still a place, indeed are there many places, where local Christians have a good name and are held in good regard, or at least even regard (rather than negative) in Australia? I say yes.
Thirteen years ago when I was living in London and participating in a local church with a globally recognisable name, (if not brand), one of the annual events was “The Summer Party”. Now this church did parties all the time; it was a church where the majority were in their twenties and thirties, and the minority were those who liked hanging out with people in their twenties and thirties. It was also a church with a large minority of Commonwealth ex-pats, especially from southern hemisphere nations. (The majority of people were in fact British, but with so many Aussie-Kiwi-Saffa-Zim-Canadians around that wasn’t immediately obvious.) Anyway, lots of parties, lots of fun, lots of shared joy; and one big party in August in particular. The Summer Party was formal, but more like a school formal or a wedding reception than a black-tie event with the Queen, and everyone enjoyed sprucing up for the night. As a formal event it was always held at a proper venue; the year I am thinking about was 2006 and we gathered in a nightclub in London Bridge which we had hired out for the night. And we came, we saw, we partied, we had fun, and we went home.
There were two outcomes of that particular party.
1. The management told us that we’d not be invited back. Why not? Well, it was because we hadn’t purchased enough alcohol. The story goes that the venue ran a loss that night; even with 500 of us (a sell-out) paying a cover charge. With a house full of Christians many weren’t drinking alcohol at all, and those who were had two or three drinks rather than ten. The ticket price did not cover the venue’s costs and our alcohol purchases still left them short.
2. The staff wanted to know who the dickens we all were. Five hundred Aussie/Kiwi/Saffa/Zim/Can and British twenty-somethings went on the tear in London-Town on a summer’s night and there was barely any cigarette smoke (and what there was was tobacco), there was drinking but no drunkenness, there was not a single fight, and no-one spewed. Most of all, and this is what they really emphasised, the girls were safe. There was no groping, no leering, no lewd talk: it was as if everyone was out with their best mates, and their sisters and brothers; every one of the 500 was comfortable and not one of the 500 felt threatened.
“You mayn’t come back here, but please, tell us when your next party is, and may we come too?” Imagine if that was the reputation The Church had in society. (You know what, in some places it still does.) May we in Kaniva and Serviceton in 2019 be like Ebeneezer Scrooge at the end of his story, may we be a people of such reputation that it is said of us that we always did Christmas well.