People often ask me what ministers do through the rest of the week as the only work one day. This question, while quite understandable, does get rather frustrating. After all, Santa only works one day a YEAR but nobody asks him what he's doing the rest of the time! One of the very very very important things we do is have meetings. Lots of very important meetings. I was at one such very very very important meeting yesterday.Now, I freely confess that when I got to the venue I didn't exactly know what the meeting was for, but that in NO WAY detracts from how very important it was (I feel I've stretched this as far as it will go. I'll stop). Likewise I couldn't tell you in all honesty what the very important outcomes were (I've stopped. Promise), but it was very insightful. The meeting was full of folk who, like me, have a sneaking suspicion that the church in Britain isn't really all that pointful anymore, so stuff needs to be done differently. Pioneers and radicals to a man (or woman), these brave adventurers had between them come up with a whole kaleidoscope of different approaches to church that were serving, helping and changing peoples' lives. There were groups that met in cafes, groups that focused on making bread (literally, no metaphor), groups that were mainly young people, groups that were mainly one ethnicity, and groups that predominately consisted of folk with one ear bigger than the other. I jest. But there were lots.
Even though this array of church styles was wonderfully diverse, as the stories were being told it dawned on me that they had something in common. Each of these new 'faith communities' (or churches) lived, worked, ate, played and breathed in amongst the people whom they were trying to bless. There were no walls separating them from the people, they did everything amongst everyone. One lady told about the church she started on a brand new housing project. She (with her family) was the first person to move onto the estate just so that she could meet and welcome every other new family who subsequently moved in. Now her church - made up of people who she has met from the community - is known for its good work in the locality and unsurprisingly, people want to be part of it.
The theological term for this is 'incarnation': the idea that, just like Jesus became a human being and lived among us, so churches are supposed to live among the people they serve. It strikes me that this will be the way for faith communities in the 21st century. It's time to sally forth from our ecclesiastical fortresses, preferably burning them behind us, and start doing some good where the people actually are. 