Loving the old and embracing the new

Living in a small town can sometimes be great, but can sometimes be really frustrating. I like the history, the tourist stuff, the chocolate. The quirkiness of small town living makes me happy. I have got used to having the name of the place I live laughed at (although it gets irritating at times - but I can't talk - I used to laugh). I like the fact that about five minutes walk away I can climb a hill and at the top I can see into the centre of Manchester.

My problem is that I have been a city (or very large town!) girl all of my life. I am used to having every large supermarket possible within about ten minutes drive. I am used to being able to walk to the train station (I can walk to the train station here, but I can only get a steam train). I love the variety in the industrial landscape - new and old mixed together. My favourite city is Birmingham. You drive in and you see old Birmingham mixed with new. A combination of history and forward thinking. The Selfridges building rises up in its blue and silver curvy space age style amongst crossing railway lines and arches that have been there for years and years. 

Love it!

 

Yet I bet that whenever anything new was built - the town hall, the bull ring tower, the Selfridges building, the railways, people complained about the monstrosity that was to be built. 

I love history, yet I love new innovation, and history would not be so interesting if innovation hadn't happened in the past. There are people who have stood up and looked forward and things have changed. They didn't necessarily reject the past, and probably celebrated it, but were also inspired and more often or not walked against the flow, gathering people with like minds on the journey. 

Birmingham reminds me that life is constantly changing, that diversity is exciting and that innovation can run alongside long established ideas. A living and active church is just like that. The community sees the need to celebrate the past and appreciate its foundations, but also recognises the need for vision and diversity in its outlook. Community living is changeable, sometimes volatile, but so often brilliantly beautiful. 

When the community becomes insular and resistant to difference, then the community becomes more like a stately home, which is interesting for historical purposes but will continue to stay the same - stuck in an era that is separate from where people really are. It becomes a place to dream about what has gone rather than what might be coming. 

I was watching Four Weddings* and one of the brides said about another's church venue that it was like two different places - old and beautiful on the outside and like a community centre on the inside. She was very disappointed. She wanted the tradition without the church community. If we really believe that church is community and live that out, then perhaps that juxtaposition of old and new should become the norm, not the surprise. 

*Programme where four brides rate one another's weddings and somebody wins a dream honeymoon. Mind numbing entertainment!