Pentecost last Sunday, and at both services we invited people to put coloured stickers on a map to show where they come from. It makes a very colourful display. We have also put a map up in the foyer with strings showing various projects and areas around the world where we have interest and are involved. It is great to have such a visible representation of the breadth of our homelands and involvements. It is one of the glories about having a building in the centre of London - we all come to it from such different places. And so, as a congregation, we are varied and bring all sorts of backgrounds, contexts and insights. We enjoy - and we look for ways to celebrate - our international life and the richness it brings us.
But it also raises a question for us about the locality within which our building is placed, and the people among whom those of us based in London actually live. When Will, the latest of our wonderful American interns left, we asked him to write some reflections on what he had heard and seem among us. I want to quote one paragrpah from his helpful paper;
The second group [he has spent some time reflecting on our work with the various people who come in during the week] I regularly heard mentioned, but may not be as overtly catered to was that of local British or London folks. I realize I got my fair share of Bristish-is-best and Americans-caint-talk-righ jokes because I was from America, but over time, and not just from one person, I heard the musings over where the Bristish people were, especially (but not exclusively!) in the younger demographic. Maybe I misread this desire to serve your own in addition to those who are not from Britain, but if I did not, then I do not think this is an awful thing to hope for. As long as you continue to willingly welcome American interns, female Slovakian ministers, African refugees and Australian nomads, then I think it would be completely appropriate to acknowledge a desire to intentionally seek out the local unchurched Brits and welcome them into your family. I am certain they are there; it is a matter of whether or not you want to actively look for them.
And so we have a challenge, I believe. Do we go on depending on people seeking us out - finding us in all sorts of ways, and thank God people do. Or do we wonder together about how to reach the people who are around, and who don't even see the building. Somebody who came in for an audition last week said "I have walked down this road for years, and I never knew this was here". And that is not an uncommon comment. It's not just about posters - we are good at those. It's not only about the website, though that is great. As was pointed out at the last church meeting, the way people come to church - especially if being in church is not something that they have taken for granted in the past - is because somebody brings them.
Do we?
Can we?
What might happpen?

She had just come in to drop off a poster, and we got into conversation. She was asking about the services, and commented (although I had not asked about it) that she didn't go to church, but that that didn't mean she didn't believe. We didn't get much further with the reflection of just what it was she believed in - she was more interested in commenting that she was fascinated by the numbers that come to our morning service. But as I thought about it later, I found myself wondering whether I would "believe" as I do without being part of church - and then realised that what I was actually thinking was that I believe in church. That I believe church is a worthwhile project, something it matters to be part of, and something that God is involved with. It might sound obvious, but I don't believe it is; there are many who "believe" as followers of Jesus, who don't "believe" in church; who have been hurt, frustrated, bored, or otherwise disengaged from the visible church, and no longer "believe" in it, no longer see the point of being part of it and undertaking any part in the institution.
And I knows those feelings. And I am certainly not convinced that we are none of the things that people reject; we can be boring, irrelevant, hurtful, cliquey, judgemental and holier than thou. I think we can also be welcoming, grace-full, connected, open and offering goodness. And it matters that we are aware of who we are, and the impact we have on people; do we make it easy for people to come in and feel at home with us; are we still making connections for people - scratching where it itches; are we so caught up with what we think matters that we miss what others care about?
But I believe church is more than being "relevant" or "engaged" - it is that, but it is more than that. It is also to the place where we learn to live together. The place where we develop relationships, sometimes over many years, with people who annoy us, who frustrate us, whose words and outlook leave us gasping - and those on whom we have that effect. It is the place, the community, the context in which we are constantly faced with - and challenged by - the sheer otherness of each other. If churches were all places of harmony and delight - where indeed, evernybody thought as I did and acted as I want them to - then so much of what I "believe" and attempt to practice as a follower of Jesus would have no context for growth or discovery. And so, I believe in the church - not as something perfect, nor as a prerequisite for salvation, and not even primarily as an instrument for mission, in whatever form. I "believe" in church as athe place and context in which the words I speak of following, and the commitments I make to it take on flesh and blood - where I actually have to work it out. And at its best, it is the training ground for how to do it elswhere and elsehow in the whole world.
So, thank you God, for calling me to be part of the church - especially when it is a hard place to be.

Ihave been drawn back to my childhood recently - somebody was singing a song my Grandpa used to sing me; "I'm a Purple People Eater". It has reappeared on Youtube because of the wearing of purple as a sign of identifying with the campaign for electoral reform. Purple is the chosen colour based on what the suffragettes used 100 years ago.
The wearing of a certain colour to identify with a certain cause has been around for a long time, and is gaining in popularity recently. At the Baptist Assembly at the beginning of the month, support was given for the campaigmn Thursdays in Black; wearing black - and an explanatory badge - in solidarity with those suffering from rape and violence, and in particular, taking a stand agains the exploitation of people trafficking. If you would like to know more about the campaign, see the latest edition of Just Living, available at church (and soon on the website).
Of course, wearing a purple tie or hair ribbon, or even wearing a black suit with a badge won't change the world. Not on their own. But they are symbols, signs of commitment and identify us as being involved in wanting to change things.
Symbols are strange thigns. They are not ineffective as we tend to assume in our rationalist, "sensible" world. They have a power of their own. But their effectiveness works itself out in lives, actions and attitudes that emerge from accepting the meaning of the symbol and letting it shape us. Much of what we do together as Christians in worship is "symbolic" - with water, with bread and wine. They are powerful symbols and can move us very deeply. But they also call us, almost require us to become a way of life, if their effectiveness is to be effective.... baptism is just splashing water and indulging in private vainglory if it is not allowed to take shape in our living as discipleship and obedience. Communion is just a momentary tickle on the taste buds if it doesn't work itself out in our exploration of living together, living generously, living with open hands.
When we let our symbols take on their own life within us, they can transform who we are, and can be part of the coming of the Kingdom.
Though what wardrobe choices I need to make it I want to campaign for electoral reform on a Thursday remains as yet a mystery.....

This last weekend so about 1500 baptist gather in Plymouth for our annual assembly of the Baptist Union of Great Britain. And, as I have been privileged to do for many years now, I was able to go. Highlights of this event for me are always the chances to meet with friends I see nowhere else - planned and unplanned meetings, rushed and leisurely ones, glad and sad ones as we exchange news.
There is a perception, I know, here at Bloomsbury, that Assembly is something to be endured, something where, coing from our kind of context, we will not feel at home, something where we have much to give that is not received, and little to learn.
All I know is that it doesn't feel like that to me. I enjoy the opportunities to hear about what is going on in all sorts of situations at home and overseas - to discover the creativity, faithfulness and original thinking that is going on; to hear stories about people's service, the challenges faced in such a wide variety of contexts, the pains and joys of being part of those who work at what it means to follow Jesus in integrity and devotion.
No - of course I don't agree with all that everybody says to me. But then, not everybody agrees with me - and it is just possible that perhpas I am wrong, and it is helpful to be confronted with other ways of thinking.
No - of course I don't feel at home with all the worship style - though, since this year, the majority of worship I attended was shaped by the traditions of Taize, of the Northumbria Community and traditional hymns sung to accompainment of a beautiful piano, I think I was more at home in worship than some others.
No - not all the main speakers speak to me. But it's very boring, not to say arrogant, to assmue that only my way of loking at things, my understanding of Scripture, my perception of the call of God is authentic.
I have come away with several reflections.
That being together, and finding common ground matters - and one of the important aspects of that is being able to disagree and still be together.
That God and the people of God are doing amazing things - that people serve in all sorts of joyful and painful situations, and it is significant to be able to celebrate them.
That I am glad I have so many friends and the opportunity to meet them.
That Bloomsbury is a very special church - and that we are not as special as we think we are. Much of what we value - rightly - about ourselves, is not possessed by us only; others do what we do, and sometimes, do it even more, even better, even more Christlikely - and so meeting others, hearing their stories, discovering what is going on, and being challenged by it matters. We are not alone and isolated, we are not the only ones who are doing what we do, we are not the only faithful people in the world. And knowing the rest of our family can only help us know ourselves and our calling better. So, maybe next year, somebody else will come with me?