All Icing and No Cake

I like to bake. If you know me at all you can't get away from knowing that. I'm passionate about homemade cake - it's so much better than shop bought and I get disappointed frankly if I am promised homemade cake and I get shop bought. Occasionally I will buy cake, but only out of desperation or if it's something like doughnuts, which I really can't make well (I have tried). Perhaps I am a bit of a cake snob. 

When I go to a coffee shop or an event or something else, the quality of the cake is key. Sometimes the cake promises much - it's beautifully iced - it sits majestic on the cake stand and it shines with a beauty that invites consumption. 

But then you eat it and it tastes a bit like iced not properly set yet concrete. You smile and you eat, pour on the cream, gulp down the tea, perhaps put it in the microwave, but you're left disappointed like when you eat a McDonalds - alright at the time, but the feeling of 'why did I go there?' sits heavily in the stomach for a while. 

But there is something worse than that. 

Cupcakes. 

Some of them balance the icing and sponge beautifully and are a pleasure to eat. The sweet and the soft sit together like a newly married couple who are beginning life together. You get caught up in the joy of the perfect combination, and sit in the moment for a while. 

But that's not all cupcakes. Cupcakes have a reputation for having a tower of icing, a sickly, sweet, sugary cone rising up from a cake which seems to be only there as a poor foundation to be left behind when the icing gets too much. 

More icing than cake.....

And then there's the celebration cakes that come with a sign that says 'caution do not eat' because behind the icing is a carefully carved block of polystyrene that instead of satisfying would get caught in your teeth. 

All icing and no cake..... 

What looks most attractive is actually most disappointing because without the depth of good cake we only get the idea of cake and where there is no cake there's no long term satisfaction. Icing is good, but not on its own. 

When the prophet Samuel anoints David to be King - youngest child who was looked over by his brothers - God tells him to pass over the older, stronger, taller, more handsome brothers with these words in 1 Samuel 16:7.

"Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart". 

As people we are likely to do just that - to look at the outward appearance - the pretty icing, the immaculately decorated cake, the well dressed celebrity preacher, the one who bigs themselves up with stories of their own wonderfulness - and being impressed by what we see, we take a huge bite..... and it's only when our teeth come together and ache with the intensity of the sugar that we realise there was no depth, no cake in what we've chosen to consume. 

But what Samuel is told to do is to look deeper - it's not the icing on the outside that counts, not the shininess in all it's shiny glory, but it's the quality and depth of the heart inside that matters - and that's how God calls, that's where God works, that's where love is found, where the cake is light and melts in your mouth, not overfaced by sickly icing, but perfectly formed - and in that heart there is something beautiful to be found. 

And when we make cake? It's the big picture that matters - coating it with edible glitter doesn't make it taste good, but slowly but surely following a recipe, tweaking and changing as we examine the texture, deeply rooted in the a quality combination of ingredients, balancing the icing with the depth of the cake, that's what makes the heart of the cake good. 

That's what makes good church - it's the big picture that matters - coating it with a sheen of perfection doesn't make it taste good, but slowly but surely building from the inside, tweaking and changing as we examine the terrain, deeply rooted in Christ, balancing the icing with the depth of the cake, that's what makes the heart of the church good.

All icing and no cake is not cake. 

On Weeding (and leadership)

My new house is beautiful - I love it - I'm really pleased with how it looks and just under three months of living in it, it's home. I feel settled and I look round and can't believe how privileged and happy I am to call it home. 

My garden, however, is another story. I have more flowers in it than my old garden (which managed to grow St John's Wort like it was going out of fashion but not much else) but also more weeds..... monster weeds too. 

I am no gardener, but I do understand the importance of making sure that weeds are removed - I'm on it - slowly but surely - I'm on it. The other week I weeded out a whole bed and I was going to plant some things in it, but instead of buying plants last week I went to Eastbourne to see the sea and get attacked by gulls (because....). The other evening I walked into my garden and decided to start on the monster weeds on the other side. I filled an ikea bag and looked at the previously weeded bed and realised that needed a re-weed before the weeds became monster again. 

Weed..... 

Although I am no gardener, I often reflect on how leading a church is a bit like being a gardener - and as I got frustrated at all the weeding I inevitably turned to thinking about church leadership. Before I moved I kept meeting church leaders who told me that the first few months are crucial because that's when you can go in and change everything - tell them you're not having it that way. 

Rip the weeds out fast - then turn round and take the monster weeds out of the other side of the garden..... 

Except that's not how I am called to lead - because if you concentrate on simply ripping out you don't deal with the roots underneath and the weeds just grow back. Change doesn't happen by ripping the old out, change happens by gently nurturing and cultivating the community in the way of Christ (remember Slow Church? If you've never come across it have a look here....)

In the bed I cleared first, although the weeds are beginning to show through again, they're much smaller, and when it cools down a bit I will revisit and then get on and plant some stuff..... but I do know within those weeds, underneath the soil and growing above it are plants to be nurtured and rediscovered - things of beauty that are ready to flourish..... bulbs waiting to come to life and grow again when their season begins, a plant that has stood strong although it has been surrounded by dock leaves and grass and there has been an attempt to choke it with bind weed and a massive excitable Buddliea that attracts all sorts of beautiful butterflies and grows with crazy abundance and will eventually need a bit of pruning. 

And as I journey on in this adventure, looking for what is growing already, for the potential in what has already been planted and for new opportunities to grow something new, as I continue to work on those weeds that will inevitably come back, but weaker and with less space to grow, and nurture the plants that are growing already, I wait with anticipation at what the seasons will bring and to the time that bed becomes beautiful in a new and unique way.

Give it time (but don't forget to give it a good thump too....)

I am currently baking my way through the Bake Off Great British Book of Baking. I have challenged myself to bake everything in that book in order, whatever comes my way, adapting recipes as needed as I go. I finally finished the first section just over a week ago and have moved onto bread.

I've made bread before - my attempts at making bread, however, weren't always successful until I got my standing mixer with that amazing thing called a dough hook. It means I don't have to go through the effort of kneading and the recipe that the mixer came with produces, with minimum effort, the perfect white loaf. A pre-packaged system that works....

However, today I began my second recipe in the Bake Off bread section, and after the perfect white sandwich loaf (which actually turned out reasonably perfect) I am moving on to the poppy seed (well Nigella seed for me, as my local Tesco had no poppy seeds) bloomer..... and rolls (or cobs where I come from). This recipe involves a lot of commitment. I started at 9am this morning (it's now 2:21pm) and in between my admin and planning for the week I have revisited the bread a number of times. It is currently resting for the third time before I have to do something more with it. It is nowhere near being in the oven and calling itself eatable bread yet - it'll be at least another 2 hours before it comes out. When I started, before I read the recipe, I was hoping it was going to be ready for lunch, but instead I had to get crumpets out of the freezer. 

I was hoping that I could do what I normally do and simply knead it in the mixer with the fabulous dough hook, however, as it wrapped itself around the head of the dough hook I realised this was not possible - it had got too big, too adventurous - it wanted to make its way out - so I had to knead it by hand. 

I, of course, could go to the shop and buy some white sliced - white sliced is good for crisp sandwiches - that quick fix comfort food I turn to in times of heavy grumps.... but the feeling and achievement of making the crisp sandwich doesn't last long and it's not quite the same as a good, home-baked loaf of bread. 

The reason why bread takes so long is because it's a bit of a craft - to make it really good, better than the quick fix method of baking (or buying) is a long term commitment to the end product (even if it doesn't turn out well). The yeast needs time to grow the bread. The bread I have made today doesn't even have sugar in to give the yeast that quick burst of energy it needs to get going like the first cup of coffee in the morning. 

The dough, once grown, has to be knocked back, because it gets too big for its boots. Bread making is actually quite a painful process. As I opened up the risen dough after four hours this morning and peeled off the cling film, the dough collapsed (as it should do) because it was full of air that didn't need to be there. Then, as I added a new dough, it combined to make something better, something new, something more solid....

Something that could be shaped. 

And that's where the dough is now (I paused this blog to play with it a bit more) - it's shaped, ready to go in the oven once it's grown again.... and I have no idea how it is going to turn out. 

As I've been making the bread I've been reflecting on church - returning to the principles of Slow Church which have inspired me so much... that to become something good - to become something beautiful - to have that fragrance that makes people want to participate in sharing... that it's like the slow and, at times surprising, and at times painful way in which bread is made that sustainable and long term growth happens. 

It's alright going out and getting the white sliced for the crisp sandwich occasionally, because sometimes the quick fix is all we need... but it won't satisfy forever. 

It's alright buying a machine with a pre-packaged recipe to create the same loaf of bread every time, but soon that same loaf of bread will become too samey, too old, too familiar, and the surprising nature of Christ centred church community will be lost. The machine will wear out, and as we seek the now defunct parts to the mixer, the possibilities of the old and tired dough becoming bread will be less and less. 

Instead, we've got to make space for experimentation, for trying a new way, a different way, a way that works for the kind of bread we are hoping to be - the kind of church we are hoping to become. This might mean sitting at the top of my stairs for 4 hours as we grow slowly and bubble and become something that might bake. This might mean being knocked back and losing some of our energy as we take the hits of the consequences of the change brought about by forward movement. This might mean being open to a new dough that will change us into something else. This might mean being knocked back again and shaped to become who we are called to be. 

But it means being there, committed to the process, committed to the commitment, because without commitment, the dough will end up lying flat. 

I will, I hope, see my bread baked, possibly by tea time... but with church? We may be the ones who pass through the waiting stage, and we wait a while, not knowing what we will become....or we might pass through the knocking back and feel bruised for a while, wondering what the next stage will bring, but with our eyes on the bigger picture, we might hear one day (or even see it for ourselves) of the joy of the smell of freshly baked bread.

"Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles, they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint"               Isaiah 40:30-31

My car fits more elephants in than your car......

I love numbers. Of course I do, I love maths, and although a lot of maths contains no numbers, there is not much more beautiful than getting a complicated problem down to a single digit answer that sits there hanging on the page like it had never been wrapped up in the complexity of the equations it was hidden in. 

I love irrational constants like pi and e and phi. They sit in the world and although unrecognised a lot of the time they are the dependable ones that keep everything in balance and working. 

But the way we use numbers bothers me, not least in church. They are rarely, in the every day, used just for their own beauty but they describe quantities and make comparisons and measure failure and success. They measure worth and purpose and they give something to aspire to as we consume them one by one, counting fast to show just how great we are. 

I taught a sixth former who one day came in and threw his bank statement on the table, there to show the class just how much he was worth. As we talked through the struggle of paying for university he pointed out that it was OK for him, he had more than enough. His worth counted in pounds and pence made his dream possible... so he dreamed.

The bigger salary, the square footage we inhabit, the scores on the exam sheet, the calories in my food, the number of facebook friends and the number of elephants you can fit in a car... all signs of success, apparently. 

The fishing for numbers as you are approached at a conference - 'what's your church like..... well... how big?'

How big. How big. How big. 

How many came to that event you put on? Well I had 10 times more. And him over there with those fantastic boots.... well he had 10 times that. 

What frustrates me about this culture of numbers being all is that it buys into the materialism we'd like to reject. The more you have the better you are, the bigger your house, the better you've been, the more people who've turned up, the more successful you are. 

And there is nothing wrong with being excited about numbers, but when it becomes the all in all.... there is. Having it all is not all and everything. The context matters, the quality matters, the community built matters and the embedded culture matters. The quality of our relationships with Jesus matters. 

So let's stop our one-up-personship and focus on where we are following in is ways. Let's stop jumping on the bandwagon of the success of another and build Jesus-centred community that is deeply embedded in our context - be in it for the marathon, not the sprint. Let's stop spewing out meal after meal of fast food on a tray and spend time building relationships round a family dinner table. 

And then perhaps we might measure our success by the quality of our relationships with Jesus and with those of who join us at the table (and yes I do hope to see that table get longer and longer as others join in and get to know Jesus as lives are transformed - I love a big table.... ). 

Are we still growing in faith? 

If the answer is yes, now that's good news. 

"He must increase, I must decrease" - John 3:30

I can fit you in in three weeks for four minutes.....

The facebook statuses, the tweets and the messages are sent.....

This weekend I preached 14 times, had 32 meetings, wrote a 4000 word article, drank 102 cups of coffee, laughed, cried and comforted the congregation I love and answered 762 e-mails. I love it. I am so blessed to do the job I do.

Let me just look at my diary..... I have a twelve minute gap a week on Wednesday. Will that do you? My diary is so full. I am so blessed to do the job I do. 

I'm sorry, I don't have a day off until 2024. I love my job so much I want to work every second of every minute of every hour of every day. I am so blessed to do the job I do. 

I haven't been able to speak for seven weeks and my eyes are so swollen I can hardly see your face, but, no, I can't have a day off, how could I? I am so blessed to do the job I do.

And the people respond.....

Wow, that's amazing, look at how busy you have been - you must be a super-minister.... a minister with amazing super-powers. God is clearly using you - you are able to do so much..... isn't it wonderful! How blessed are you?

Now I am not saying I am not guilty of not having a day off when I am ill.... but seriously.... ?

Working yourself to the bone is not what you are called to do.

Filling your diary with meetings is not what you are called to do. 

Not having a Sabbath is not what you are called to do. 

Not resting is not what you are called to do. 

Every now and again I am reminded of the busyness competition that happens in ministry (and, I am sure, in other jobs too - in teaching the busyness bragging was just the same). So often the only space we can squeeze in meetings is over lunch, the one-up-personship conversation on who has worked the most hours, the record for the number of preaches in one Sunday, the squeezing of so many things in the day that arriving late to a meeting is a sign of our wonderful busyness and not our inefficient diary tardiness.... 

This is not a sign of blessing, but a sign there is something wrong somewhere.......because Sabbath rest is a gift from God that completes creation and is not an add on when we can manage it. 

To fit into society's idea of efficient-ness we bow down to the culture of always doing and never being. What are we doing? 

Following Jesus is counter-cultural, it is a way of being and a way of living that is a call to be different - to have a different focus - to go in his way. This is Jesus, who, although he preached and spent a lot of time travelling from place to place, also made time to sit down and eat with friends and to sit and watch the world around him before he responded to what was going on. This is Jesus who took himself out of a situation so he could spend time with his Father. This is Jesus who slept when a storm raged around him. This is Jesus who gathered community in the midst of getting out his urgent message. 

I am so blessed to do the job I do - not because I can fill my days with meetings and speedy preaching preparation, but because I am given a generous gift of time to think and time to pray and time to hang about so that I can try to lead and build community in the way of Christ. 

We're just about to embark on a new sermon series on Slow Church - time and time again I come back to this and I'm challenged to remember that it's not about business models or a series of seven steps to work my way through, but is about the way of God's Kingdom.... which takes us on his journey.... not a rushed, busy journey where there is no time for engagement with the community, but a patient and incarnational journey that cultivates community the Christ way. 

"We are impatient, anxious to see the whole picture, but God lets us see things slowly, quietly. The church [has] to learn how to wait" - Pope Francis (quoted in Slow Church, p21)

Cake and Slow Church. Slow Cake. Cake Church.

I've just got back from the North West Baptist Association ministers conference and during it we had something called '7 on 7' - 7 people speaking about something they are passionate about for 7 minutes. It was good..... and I was one of the seven people and I said I would put up my talk on my blog - so here goes - with a few changes so it makes sense! 

If you spend any time with me you might be able to guess what I am passionate about. It appears that people on facebook with their random sharing of anything to do with shoes and anything to do with maths think they know what I am passionate about. I do like shoes and I do like maths. I even got asymptotes in my sermon on Sunday on Ephesians 6……

However, it’s not until you spend time with me you realise that it’s not all about those shoes or all about that maths…..

If you have spent any time with me in the last year or so there are two things I have probably done….

First, is offer you cake. I have a thing about cake. Not because I like eating it (although, I admit, there are times I do) but because it's an experience. I am not a massive fan of shop bought cakes and when someone brings shop bought cake when they have offered to make cake I have a secret intense disappointment. I am passionate about the homemade variety. This is the variety that has had time to be created. This is the variety that speaks of love and of care. This is the variety that makes me stop and savour.

The thing about cake for me is not in the eating, but it’s in the making. And making is not just about reading and looking. If you just read and follow a recipe without playing with any other senses the cake may be nice, but it’s not the same. I’m sorry.

The first thing I do when creating cake is to wander around and dream. Even if I am going back to a tried and tested recipe that dreaming and imagining is still there. I might have googled or searched books, but the dreaming (often in the car on the way home from college) is always there. This cake I am making – I need to really believe in.

The second thing I do is make the cake. With scales. I measure….. then I taste, then I feel, then I smell….. then I add…. (milk often actually is the magic ingredient). Then I put it in the oven and let it be. Let it rest as it grows, moves, breathes…..

The final thing I do is I listen. The cakes talk.

So.... now you think I am nuts. But, when you listen to sponge cakes baking they speak, and when they stop speaking they’re ready. It’s not about the time stated in the recipe book, it’s about when the cakes tell you they’re ready. You can hear it. You can feel it. Taste and see. And……

The second thing I may have mentioned if you have spent time with me,  is how you need to investigate Slow Church. Slow Church is church like cake baking and eating. Slow Church is a movement about cultivating community in the patient way of Christ. Slow church is inspired by the International slow food movement.

The slow food movement is a movement that goes against the grain of fast food…. Of buy and eat fast. Of lunch hours and business meetings. Of hour long lunchtime ministers meetings (let’s kill two birds with one stone ministers meetings). Of the rush from one meeting to the next. Of turning the occasional times we have traditionally just hung out with others from church to week by week, slow, slow, patient, focussed community building. The slow food movement is dedicated to the enjoyment and production of local food and wine, the preservation of food traditions, and  the promoting of pleasures of conviviality – from the Latin word for feast, which literally means ‘to live with’. The slow food movement challenges us as churches to ask questions about the ground our faith communities have given over to the cult of speed and challenges us to rethink the ways in which we share life together in our church communities. It challenges our ‘one size fits all’ church and discipleship models and calls for quality, local centred journeys forward, breathing and walking together in Christ’s way.

Slow Church is the challenge to be, faithfully and well, the embodiment of Christ in a particular place over time. Slow church speaks of the type of community where people are invited to hang out for a while and taste and see that the Lord is good.

Cake and Slow Church. Slow Cake. Cake Church. That’s what I am passionate about.