Medhurst Ministries: Mithering, ministry, movement…

It was great to get away as a family for a few days last week. We were up at the Jonas Centre, near Leyburn in North Yorkshire, for the inaugural (yep, I did just google that!) Medhurst Ministries Pastors’ and families’ retreat.

Genuinely taken last week at the Jonas Centre #VisitYorkshire!

Medhurst Ministries is a ministry of New Life Church Middlesbrough. It’s aim is to help plant and revitalise churches in council estates (and other ‘hard to reach’ places) in the North of England. They also want to support, resource, and train pastors and churches already working in those areas. These are very early days, but talking about what the future might hold was very exciting.

It’s was great to get away and out of the busyness of ministry life for a bit, and to enjoy the glories of a different part of God’s own county. The only disappointment of being there was not being able to find any Christmas Cake in the Leyburn Co-op, and therefore being unable to introduce the non-Yorkshire folk to the taste of Wensleydale’s most famous product as it should be enjoyed! It was excellent to be with others ministering in similar contexts, in a relaxed environment, and build friendships, share stories, and just enjoy being away.

I might reflect more on the week later, and you’ll certainly being hearing more about Medhurst Ministries in the coming months, but for now I just want to pick out three highlights. (My sincere apologies for the alliteration! I normally try to avoid it like the plague!)

Mithering: I wrote recently about the importance of being able to get together with others in ministry and be honest about the struggles, as well of the joys, of ministry. It’s very easy in a small church like ours, in a difficult context like ours (where there are very few Christians even by Yorkshire standards), to think we’ve got it worse than everybody else. To be tempted to despair at the lack of fruit or the length of time it takes to get a hearing for the gospel here. To be tempted to think we must be doing it all wrong because nothing (or at least very little) is happening. To be tempted to lose our nerve and try to change tack in our gospel proclamation. What was great to do this last week was to see (again!) that it’s hard everywhere, particularly in contexts like ours. To be able to chat with people, over an extended period of time, about the ups and downs of ministry life in the hard places of the North of England. To be able to commiserate together. To be able to encourage one another. To be able to express the frustrations of ministry life to people who totally get it. To chat with people at all different stages of this path we’re on, and be reminded that we don’t need to change tack, we’re not doing it horrifically wrong. It’s just that ministry in contexts like ours really is a long, slow slog. It was also brilliant to have some southerners among us, as Dan Green and family came up from Banstead Community Church, and hear about their desire to support ministry in the North of England. You can read about how they’re doing that here. It was so encouraging to hear of this church sacrificially serving the gospel in this way, and pray together for more to do the same.

Ministry: We met twice each day to look at some psalms together, while our children were brilliantly taught by the excellent team from New Life. As a result of circumstances, we ended up doing the sessions between a few of us, looking at some psalms that we’re preached recently in our different churches.  Although this was a last minute adjustment it actually worked out really well. We were reminded that, even in the hard slog of ministry in our contexts, the Lord is building his church. That our loving heavenly Father is sovereignly at work in all of our contexts, and hearts, to present his people as a perfect bride to his Son. And that that means we can keep going in the midst of the frustrations, hoping in his goodness and grace. It was a really encouraging time. Here are some of the highlights…

Movement: Before anybody gets scared, I’ve not turned too trendy. I don’t mean Medhurst Ministries has suddenly become some sort of ‘movement’ committed to ‘bestifying church planting in super-awesome-effectiveness’ or owt daft like that. It just struck me that there is starting to be some movement on some of the issues facing gospel ministry in the North of England that some of us have been pointing out for a while. As I said, it was so encouraging to have Dan and the family with us, and hear how people from a completely different context are sacrificially seeking to support gospel ministry in a ‘hard to reach’/average place in the North. It was brilliant to chat through what role Medhurst Ministries might have in working for the cause of the gospel across the North of England. It was great to hear of churches around the world interested in supporting gospel ministry here. It was top to start to think how our little church might play a part in that. By God’s grace, the future looks exciting!

It was an excellent week, and we can’t wait for next year. We’re so grateful for the work of everyone at New Life that made it possible. But for now, we are so encouraged about what the Lord could do in our part of the world in the coming years. Please pray that he would, and that he might get all the glory…

Evangelism dunt need Einstein!

In the last two posts (here and here), I’ve been thinking through some of the reasons why it’s so easy for Christians to spend most of their life in the Christian bubble, and why that’s not really a good thing. I highlighted five issues; time, comfort, lack of care, over-programmed churches, and the way many University CUs are run.

This week I want to just suggest a few areas where a bit of lateral thinking could help us. I don’t think a single one of these is original (so apologies to any one I unwittingly plagiarise), but hopefully at least one or two might be helpful to someone. I’m not going to address all of the issues I raised last week, but just a few things I’ve tried to do over the years to get myself, and others, into the real world (where we can share the gospel!).

So here goes. If we want to get folks out of the Christian bubble & prioritising time with non-Christians we must;

Model it: Not rocket science, right?! But how many pastors/elders have mates? I mean, you could ask that question full stop! But in view of our question, how many pastors/elders intentionally spend relaxed time developing deep friendships with non-Christians in the town? Do you have time? Is it a priority? What does Paul’s command (2 Tim. 4.5) to ‘do the work of an evangelist’ look like in your life as a pastor/elder? Or simply as a mature believer. If people see it’s not a priority for you, why should it be a priority for them? Maybe we need to look carefully at our timetables…

Disciple others in it: Again, it’s obvious, right?! When we’re spending time with unbelievers we get others along to see just how easy it actually is. We let them see how we do it. We let them see how people are invited into our homes and lives. We open the Bible with them and let them see why it’s a biblical imperative. We encourage, challenge, encourage…

Celebrate it: Sorry this really is sucking eggs, isn’t it?! But maybe, if so many of us really are stuck in the Christian bubble, we need someone to tell us that the King’s forgotten his pants. On Sunday, in Life Group, in one on ones; get people to share how they are getting out into the community and developing relationships. Get people to share ideas. Point to people who are examples in this and say along with Paul: ‘Follow [them] as they follow the example of Christ.’ (1 Cor. 11.1)…

Be willing to sacrifice a few sacred cows: Here’s where the rubber might just hit the road. Maybe there are too many ways for people in your church to ‘serve’ each week. Might it just be possible that someone can ‘serve’ at every ministry you run and never really get to know anybody, especially an unbeliever. To hide behind the coffee jug or the reception table. Might it just be possible that there might be ministries you run that have had their day, or that aren’t essential, but are tying people up from getting to know people in their community. The answer might be, ‘No’, in which case brilliant. But is it?! Really?! At least ask the question. At Spen Valley Church we don’t have any formal meetings outside of a Sunday, and the plan is that we won’t. Of course we’re willing to follow where the Lord leads, but the aim is for our weeks to be free for discipling and getting to know others. People know that. By and large they’ve bought into that. We’re only two years in, but I know ten times as many non-Christians as I’ve ever known anywhere else. Who knows where that will lead…

Get off your backside, and do what the Lord has called you to: Too strong?! Oh well, you’ll get over it… And I’m saying it as much to myself as anyone. Although there are loads of systematic issues why we spend all our time in the Christian bubble, I reckon the main reason is that we quite like it. The outside world is scary. Non-Christians do unpredictable things. We don’t want the hassle of telling them they’re sinners. We quite like watching people shout, swear, drink, and stab each other on Netflix (where they’re safely inside the screen), but we’re not quite comfortable with experiencing it among people we might call our friends. And let me be brutal: That, my friends, is sin. If we don’t care enough about the lost around us to get into their lives and tell them the gospel (whether in a programmed way or not) we either don’t believe in hell, are seriously stunted in our Christian maturity, or maybe even aren’t regenerate. Telling people the gospel is a biblical command. It’s one that’s full of joy and blessing, but at the end of the day, it’s a command. End of. Perhaps we need to do some serious soul searching about why we can’t be bothered to obey it…  

Preach the gospel: Duh! But not just to the lost around us. If we recognise ourselves, and our sinful hearts especially, in our lack of desire to share Jesus with those around us, then we’ve got to come back to the cross. There is forgiveness there to cover every sin. Admit you’re a loser in this area. I mean, technically we’re all losers in every area, that’s the point of the gospel, right? But here’s the joy: Jesus isn’t. And he has died that we might enjoy real life in him. That we might love others because he first loved us. And we might go to the world to share him as he came into the world to share himself. If you’re a sinner in this area, and you are, then come back to Jesus. Fill your view with his cross-work. See the reality of what hell is as you look at that cross. And, just like Jesus, for the joy set before you (the Father’s welcome and the joy of being united to his people) get on and make some mates. And tell them about Jesus…

Like I said, it ain’t rocket science…

The one with the racists…

There are some things in life that you think are just ‘wrong’, right?. We’ve all got that list in our heads in some form or other. I’m not talking sin or illegal. I’m talking cultural habits that people around us love, but we hate with a passion. You know the kind of thing I mean: watching Strictly, barn dances, socks and sandals, dance music, eating hummus, supporting Leeds United (ok, that last one should be illegal!)… It tends to be summat and nowt, harmless, a bit of banter that brings colour to life. But what about when we start to do the same with people? You see, that can get a bit more tasty.

Wrong, wrong, wrong! Just wrong…

Because, as I stated to explore last time, Jesus was well known in first century Judea as a wrong ‘un: a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners. If ever anybody fell in with the wrong crowd…

I mean, tax collectors were bad, right? They screwed their own people over for a slice of the Revenue’s pie. They rejected God’s covenant for the instant gratification of a cut of their mate’s giro. And sinners were called sinners because they were…well, you know, sinners. They broke the Lord’s commandments flagrantly and without shame. Often in their very line of work. And yet it was to these people that Jesus gave his time. To Matthew and his mates that he became a mate (Matt. 9.9-11). Them that he came to rescue (Matt. 9.12-13).

Matthew’s house: surprisingly similar to Spoons in Cleck…

As I said last time, I’ve been thinking carefully recently about what it means in our context to follow a Saviour who came for tax collectors and sinners. A Saviour who was a friend to those society rejected. And I’ve come to a shocking conclusion. I reckon it means I too should be a friend to tax collectors and sinners. To invest in them, love them, show them Jesus. Nuts, eh?!

And here’s the thing: I don’t primarily mean my mate who spends his working week in the HMRC offices. Because in our context it means I’m going to have friends who don’t fit into our societies’ nice little boxes.

You see, I am a friend of racists. Proper, open racists. People who won’t buy stuff because Asian people are selling it. They might look over their shoulder before they say it. But they’ll say it all the same.

And I’m a friend of junkies. Of alcoholics. Of people who shout, and swear, and smoke, and fight. Of people who are…well, you know, sinners.

That’s not because I’m special. I’m not some hardcore Christian, specially gifted to reach those who a large, and vocal, part of our society rejects. My friends are just normal people. They’re sinners. Like you, and like me. It’s just their sins are not always the respectable ones that our society accepts.

And I love them. Some of the things they say I disagree with! Some of them we have debates about. But it’s not summat I go on about a lot. They’re my mates. I like them. And, ultimately, it’s not their biggest problem. They need Jesus, and his gospel. And so I don’t want to hold them at arm’s length until they clean up their views on ethnicity, or their bloodstream, or (perhaps most shockingly to some) their language. I want to invest in my friends and tell them of the glorious good news of a Saviour who died that racists, junkies, and nutjobs might be holy and blameless children of their heavenly Father.

You see, Paul tells us that, ‘God demonstrates his own love for us in this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.’ (Rom. 5.8) Not after we’d cleaned ourselves up, and gone all respectable. And that means that I’m as needy as they are. The only difference is that, unlike those religious leaders in Matthew 9, because of God’s grace I know I’m sick. In ways that you will never know. And I don’t even want to know what goes on in your head! But Jesus came not to call the righteous (that’d be a one sided conversation!), but sinners. The gospel is for sinners. And unless we’re prepared to stick our messy, sinful hearts into the messy, sinful lives of those around us, they’re not going to hear it.

You’re context might be different. Maybe it’s the multi-millionaire tax dodgers and the crooked bosses who are the tax collectors (literally) and sinners in your community. We don’t tend to get too many of them in Cleck. But whatever our context, the bare facts are these: Jesus died for sinners. Jesus came for sinners. Not for the righteous. If you say you follow him and yet your only friends are the righteous (or those who think they are), then there might be a good chance that you’re doing it ‘wrong’.

Welcome to Cleck!

Cleckheaton is a belter of a place to live. The bloke who wrote the Mr. Men grew up here. It’s got good transport links, within easy reach of Leeds, Manchester, Bradford, Huddersfield. I can testify that it’s got some great pubs, a place where you can get a banging pie and chips, and a top live music venue (if you like tribute acts!). But perhaps the biggest claim to fame (it’s on all the signs when you drive into town) is that we have the world’s biggest Indian restaurant! Which would be perfect, if only I liked curry…

But Aakash is more than just a restaurant (and if you really don’t like curry, they do a tasty chicken and chips). It stands as a monument to the gospel need of my town, my valley, my county. You see the building that houses Aakash used to house an old Congregational Church. With space for 2000 people, it wasn’t small either. It reflected the gospel life in the Spen Valley that had bloomed in the 18th century revival.   

Now I’m not one to get sentimental about old church buildings. A building is a building. If it outlives it’s usefulness, ditch it. I’m just conscious of the symbolism. Conscious of the fact that the vast, vast majority of people in my town would rather enjoy a tasty korma than taste and see that the Lord is good. Which is probably true for your town or city as well.

But the truth in our town is that, not only do most people not want to hear the gospel, here there’s not much opportunity for them to hear it even if they did. It’s why we planted Spen Valley Church here just under two years ago. Because two years in, the vast majority of people I speak to in the town have never knowingly spent any amount of time with a bible-believing Christian, or heard the good news of salvation in Jesus. And I speak to people in that situation every day. The opportunities to share the gospel with people are seemingly endless, you just have to walk out the door.

But that opportunity brings it’s own challenges. As a church we have 14 members. There are 17000 people in Cleck, and 50000 in the Spen Valley. The harvest field is huge, the workers are very few. If we’re going to take this opportunity we need people to come and join us. To get stuck into life here. To join with us in an opportunity to share Jesus.

But the Aakash has something to say to that as well. Although people in Cleck do go there, Aakash is full when the car park is full. People drive in, have their fill, and leave.

After all, who wants to live in a fairly run down post-industrial Yorkshire mill town? Who wants to come and invest in it’s people?

Maybe people who follow a bloke who came from a poor, northern town that nobody wanted to move to. A bloke who spent most of his ministry walking around two bit northern towns, and had compassion on those very northerners, because they were like sheep without a shepherd. A bloke whose compassion drove him to a cross in order to be the shepherd who lays down his life for the sheep. And a bloke whose compassion drove him to command his disciples that they should, ‘ask the Lord of the harvest to send out workers into his harvest field.’ (Matthew 9.35-38)

One of the aims of this blog is to shine a light on what ministry in a small Yorkshire town is like. But also to shine a light on the opportunity there is to share the gospel in towns like Cleck all across Yorkshire and the North of England. To say, ‘Come over and help us’. Because we can shuffle the sheep who already have a shepherd as much as we like. But unless they hear the gospel, those without a shepherd in Cleck, in Yorkshire, in the north of England, are just going to happily crack on with eating their korma…