Your love will never walk away

When my faith falters and doubts creep in

When I lose my way and give in to sin

You do not leave me, You walk me through

You stay faithful, You stay true

Your love will never walk away

Your faithfulness is here to stay

Your grace and mercy humble me

Your unfailing love has set me free

When mountains move, when hills disappear

Your faithful love still draws us near

You rebuild our battered hearts

With precious jewels and set us apart

I'm looking up, I'm counting stars

Your promises are holding fast

I'm taking courage from your hand

And stepping in to the promised land

When mountains move, when hills disappear

Your faithful love still draws us near

You rebuild our battered hearts

With precious jewels and set us apart

Free from shame, disgrace and fear

No enemy can prosper here

Steadfast in love, so pure and true

I stand in praise and awe of You.

When mountains move, when hills disappear

Your faithful love still draws us near

You rebuild our battered hearts

With precious jewels and set us apart

Isaiah 54

***

This is a poem I wrote almost exactly a year ago but God reminded me of the truth of it this week. He is an awesome, redeemer God!

The Power of a Story

I was up in Glasgow last weekend visiting my Dad and, as an early Father's Day treat, I took him to see David Greig's Dunsinane at the Citizens' Theatre.

The National Theatre of Scotland - who present the Royal Shakespeare Company production in association with Royal Lyceum, Edinburgh - describe the play as:

A vision of one man’s attempt to restore peace in a country ravaged by war.

The parallels in Greig's story to present day are striking. As the Sunday Times puts it:
David Greig gleefully seizes on Shakespeare's tragedy and writes a thrilling sequel for the RSC that has more to do with the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan than with 11th-century Scotland.

Greig's witty and poetic script along with some utterly captivating performances make for a stunning piece of theatre, in my opinion, theatre just as it should be.

It reminded me of a lecture we had at university from Dougie Irvine, Artistic Director of Visible Fictions Theatre Company. Visible Fictions are a company dedicated to making theatre for children and young people. I remember he told us about their belief in the power of a story. He compared the work they do to the work in the Theatre-in-Education movement, telling us that, for Visible Fictions, they do not set out to teach their audiences through their work, like in TiE, but actually by the nature of theatre, there is often a massive amount to come out of a production that touches people's hearts and makes them question and think. Dunsinane definately touched my heart and the fact that I am still thinking about it, and all that it stirred up in me, over a week and a half later suggests that he was, in fact, right.

It seems to be a recurring tension that keeps cropping up for me - this tension between theatre and theatre-in-education, between preaching and facilitating. I think that the approach Visible Fictions take to their work is an incredibly brave one. It feels somehow easier to make sure that our audience definately get the point that we want to make by saying it plainly and making it obvious... but doesn't that take the theatricality out of it? Doesn't that engage the intellect and miss the heart?

It's moved me to think about Jesus and His use of stories in His teaching. Jesus told countless parables to make His point, using culturally relevant associations and characters to make a point, but rarely did He break down exactly what He meant by each part of the story, because His skill in weaving and telling stories was so great that He didn't need to. Jesus believed in the power of the story he was telling to convict the hearts of the people He told.

If I am indeed working at being more Christ-like (as professing myself as Christian would suggest) then I can't ignore the example that He has set out for us. I want to be telling stories, like Jesus did, that convict the heart, stories with characters that are so real and absorbing that we can't help but be drawn in. The hard part of that is that I relinquish all control. This is something I have been battling with as I have taken my playwriting classes this year - the need to lay down my agenda and allow the character's own voices freedom from censorship. The moment I lay down the opportunity to preach a point I open a door to the possibility that some members of the audience will leave without having received the message that I might have intended. But I also open a door to a much more credible, real and moving piece of theatre.

What is required, then, is faith. Faith in the power of a story to touch people's hearts. Faith in mankind to have empathy and compassion on the characters we present. And of course, ultimately, faith in Jesus, in the example He showed us, but also in His sovreignty and the supernatural work of His Spirit to stir and move us.

Censorship

I've been taking a playwriting class since January and I'm currently working on my first play. It's been an incredible learning curve already! When I started the class I had a very clear message that I wanted my play to state for the audience, my whole purpose was to tell them what I wanted them to hear but I have found that the more I write and the more the characters take on a life of their own, the less I am able to put words into their mouths that speak the message I initially intended. That is not to say that I feel I have lost the whole theme that I began with, if anything I have probably gone deeper into that theme than had I stuck firmly to my intended message. It is an interesting dilema to face, on one hand I am over the moon that the characters are coming to life but on the other I am having to battle with myself to let go of ideals that I carried into the project to begin with.

The whole thing has left me pondering the issue of censorship. If I want to tell a real story through characters who are believable, if I want to stick to their truth and only put words in their mouth that they would say, how much of what I want to say is compromised? And further still, can I stop them saying things that I personally would rather they didn't say?

Take for example, profane language - if the character is in a pressure situation where they would, being true to themselves, rhyme off a string of expletives, must I allow them to do that? Does the scene and the character lose an element of truth if I censor what they say? I feel that most likely the answer is yes, but that throws up further complications for me.

As a follower of Jesus, I want for all that I do and create to glorify Him. Can I create a play that doesn't compromise anything of what the characters would do or say while still glorifying God?

I think so.

The things of the world which used to be censored in the media seem to be censored less and less, in many ways there is no escaping them. Perhaps instead of attempting to brush over them and ignore them what we need to do is face them head on? We were not called to bury our heads in the sand. We were not given a spirit of timidity but one of courage and boldness. We're never going to create convicting theatre if we gloss over the way the world really is. And how much brighter does the light shine when we see it next to the darkness?

Keeping Faith in Times of Eschatological Tension

I've been living with a promise from God for a little while now. I think it's been the first time in my personal journey of faith that I have consciously known that God has promised me something and I have had to bide my time until it has been made real in the world.

It's been bloomin' hard!

Over the past few months I have been going through the application process for a Masters course at East 15 Acting School. Since I moved here at the beginning of 2008, East 15 has been on my radar. It's main campus is in the town that I used to work in and over the past 3 years I have met and worked with a number of different people who are students or graduates of several different courses at the school. Since the very beginning of my time down here, it has been on my heart. There were several opportunities that cropped up along the way, through my old job, to work with the school, but none came to fruition, and now it has all become abundantly clear why.

It was around January time that God planted the little seed in my heart that suggested I will study there and, through the many beautiful intricacies of his planning, His little seed has grown over the past few months, until now, today, it has burst into blossom. The beginning of this journey was a stepping out in obedience to what I felt God was suggesting, but for the last 4 weeks I have known that it was God's plan that I would study at East 15 from September this year.

During a time of worship at church about a month ago, God showed me a picture of me in a cocoon and that cocoon opening to release a butterfly which then flew around the campus of the school. I went to receive prayer ministry that evening, I guess in the hope that God would confirm what I had seen through someone else, instead, God said to me "you know My voice". Wow! He had absolutely told me that night that it was going to happen.

Of course, I still had to get through an interview that was scheduled for a few weeks hence.

The interview went well and I was told that I should expect a positive response. I was so excited but I was also really surprised and as I walked off campus I had another picture of the butterfly - God had promised it already, so why had I been so surprised?

In church a few days later a picture was given of a butterfly being released and I knew, again, that is was confirmation of what God was doing.

And finally, this morning, after so much waiting, I received an official letter offering me a place on the course. It has been perhaps the most torturous week, waiting for the the letter to arrive after my interview, but why? Again, God had already promised it so why the stress and unrest waiting for man's confirmation of what God had already ordained?

The penny dropped in the last couple of days that it is all about eschatological tension. The tension between the now and the not yet of the Kingdom. The tension that results from knowing the truth and reality of God's promise and waiting for that truth and reality to be made real on earth as it is in heaven. I was holding on to God's truth in the situation, to the reality and promise that He had shown me, whilst also having to wait for that promise and reality to be worked out in the ways of the world.

From this end looking backwards, it is so easy to say "well God had told you, you should just have had more faith in what He had already said." But when you are in the midst of the tension, it is so easy to let the voice of the enemy worm its way in, "He didn't really say that, you're just making up what you want to hear", "they could still turn you down", "you've not received an official letter yet because they've changed their mind".

I think we learn to know God's voice a little more and a little more each day, and with each incredible fulfilled promise our faith increases. Next time I find myself in the midst of the now and the not yet, I must try to remember the incredible journey I have just been on, to remember that God told me and He fulfilled what he had shown me. But of course, this particular journey isn't over yet, in fact, it has only really just begun...

"Five pitta bread and a couple of sardines"

The last few weeks have felt like such a whirlwind. It feels like God has just totally upped the momentum this year, to the point where so much has happened and I can't believe it is only March. I met up with a friend yesterday who I haven't seen since before Christmas and he pretty much confirmed what I already knew... that I am not the same.

I always used to giggle a bit when I heard Kim Walker of Jesus Culture launch into her declaration on one of their tracks, but it carries a new weight for me now:

The love of God changes us, and we're never the same. We're never the same after we encounter the love of God. We're never the same after we encounter the love of God.

I believe that God has been changing me little by little over the last few years but in the last two weeks especially God has met with me in such a profound, tangible, amazing, awesome way and done something remarkable in me and I will never be the same again.

I posted a little while ago about how I was reading this book by Shane Claiborne and pondering on Matthew 25 and becoming a part of a community in order to bring change from the inside. I missed one vital thing, which I think actually, maybe Shane has missed too...

Once again, the intricacy of God's planning has blown my mind! I was recommended a book called Beautiful One which was sitting on my shelf, waiting for when I finished reading The Irresistable Revolution and it could not be any more perfect as a follow on. Beautiful One is a collection of writings from some really influential female speakers and opens with chapters from Heidi Baker and Beni Johnson. It was in reading Heidi's chapters that I discovered what I was missing, something that Heidi had missed at first too...

Heidi said that her and her husband would choose to wash in cold water, even if hot water was available out of solidarity to the poor, they would be constantly hungry and she would get stressed out at the Western church for being frivolous. But God opened her eyes to His wish to lavish on us (see Ephesians 1 and 1 John 3).

To give or bestow abundantly is how the dictionary defines the word lavish - God wants to give or bestow on us abundantly.

Wow!

God's love for us is abundant, bountiful, extravagant... he doesn't want us to have a spirit of poverty, because his Way is the way of freedom, fullness, abundance.

I've realised that God knows I need things rammed in my face if I'm to take the hint, so of course He didn't stop there in teaching me this lesson. A few of us went to an event at St Barnabas in Kensington on Friday night that was being held by New Wine and the Eden Network. Andy Hawthorne was teaching from the account of the Feeding of the Five Thousand in Mark's gospel and funnily enough, the word he brought spoke right into this very thing!

He was talking about the abundance of food that came from the offering of, as he put it, "5 pitta bread and a couple of sardines". His point was that the miracle could have stopped at enough food for the 12 disciples, but as they passed the food on out, the abundance of provision grew and grew. In the end they were left with twelve baskets full of leftovers - Andy pointed out that the word in the Greek that is used for basket indicates that it wasn't just a small basket, but like a laundry basket. How incredible, they were left with far more than they started with. Everyone that had gathered was fed their fill and the disciples walked away with a laundry-sized basket each, full of bread and fish - now that is a lavish feast!

And so it all falls into place, this is the example that we are to follow, yes we are to feed the poor, yes we are to offer what we have, but wow, look at what God does with the little that we bring! Look at God's heart for those who are willing to give up what they have to serve him, he wants to bless them back in abundance!

We are, after all, a royal preisthood, surely that says it all about God's heart for us?

From poetry to light pollution

I feel I have broken through a structural wall when it comes to my ponders on poetry. I have discovered that content and form can indeed help each other out - it can be about both things! Hurrah! All is not lost!

I have found in the past week that using structure and form can actually help me to organise my thoughts. For example my poem, Train Journey, that I posted the other day was birthed out of both conviction on a subject and the use of the acrostic form. I had a huge mindmap of ideas, but it wasn't until I laid down the form I was going to use that I found I was able to arrange those thoughts into a coherent form. Having discovered this I had a look back through some of my previous pieces (many of which were posted on facebook before I took the plunge and started this blog) and discovered that perhaps I would rearrange where I have placed the line breaks in light of what I have been learning in class... a task that may take some time and that I may never get around to doing, we'll see!

My huge mindmap of ideas that pre-existed Train Journey is really focussed around Matthew 25:31-46 where Jesus is teaching about the final judgement. He talks about how when the Son of Man returns He will separate the sheep from the goats - those who have fulfilled what was asked and those who have not, what it boils down to are the following six points:

• Feeding the hungry
• Giving the thristy something to drink
• Inviting strangers into our home
• Clothing the naked
• Caring for the sick
• Visiting those in prison

Jesus says that those of us who do not do these things for the least of the people amongst us, have not done the same for Him, the penalty is eternity in hell. Wow... this stuff isn't optional, this is bare minimum expectation. But how many of us feel we have a personal relationship with Jesus and ignore most, if not all, of these points and yet still expect to be greeted as good and faithful servants when we meet our Maker? Of course, can we be achieving these commissions in less obvious ways, for example, visiting someone who is, in essence, a prisoner in their own home because they are unable to get out in bad weather, or cooking dinner for our flatmates, or inviting a new person from church or at work round for the evening... does it blatantly have to be the homeless, the starving and those on their deathbed...? Do we take it seriously enough to make sure that we are achieving it at whatever level? Are we convicted about it?

I've been thinking a lot about "the least" too. I'm reading "The Irresistable Revolution - Living as an Ordinary Radical" by Shane Claiborne and it is for sure challenging me on my perceptions of poverty and lifestyle. Like in any book by any author I find some parts massively inspiring stuff but also find I don't necessarily agree with other parts.I have, however, taken a couple of things in particular to heart. The first is a conviction that our lives should look incredibly different to the lives of those around us who do not follow Jesus. Jesus told us he is The Way. He really meant that! His way of living was massively different to those around Him, it was a way that brought life and freedom and it's a way still accessible for us today if we dare to stand out and look different, if we dare to be set apart.

My other conviction from reading Shane's book is that in order to have a real and lasting impact in a community we have to become a part of that community, we have to become one of them. You can't just minister to the poor, you have to become poor. You can't just minister to people, you have to get on their level and experience life through their eyes, in their shoes. For me this is a very timely discovery as I begin to look ahead to what comes next in my life. I feel sure that God is calling me to be a part of a community (not a town or a church or a household, but a place of work). He is calling me to be on the same level as those my ministry will be to (or perhaps "with" would be a better word to use?) He is making me one of them.

We are called to shine light in the darkness, but if we are too afraid of the darkness to get in amongst it, what hope have we got? We are promised that the darkness can not overcome the light, what more do we need to get out there and start polluting the world with Jesus' light?

Pipe Dreams

I stepped out of my full time job in August this year to come back to my love of the theatre. It is, perhaps, ironic that in doing so I am now doing even less drama and theatre-based work than I was before. But this theatrical desert has re-ignited a passion in my heart and confimed in me that I am, at my very core, an artist.

So, on this quest to get back to doing what I love, and working out how God plans for me to use this passion and gifting that he has given me, I enrolled on a couple of courses at an adult education college in London. One, an Introduction to Creative Writing, the other, an Introduction to Stanislavski. For those who are not familiar with Constantin Stanislavski, he was a Russian actor and theatre director who pioneered a "system" for actors that was concerned with creating realism on the stage.

The acting class stirred a lot of things within me and sparked a real vision in me for what I think I ought to be aiming towards.

Just over half way through the 12 week course I found myself in a position where I had to make a decision whether it was appropriate for me to carry on with the class or not. I was having some real issues with the content of the scenarios and screenplays that were being studied each week. The climax came when I was asked to improvise an objective that stood firmly against what I believe in. When I refused to take part I was confronted with the argument that acting is about making believe and does not reflect or affect our personal morality. While I believe this is most likely a true statement, for me it offers another question:

Why would I want to make believe about something that I fundamentally disagree with?

Uta Hagen says the following in her book, "Respect for Acting":

It is necessary to have a point of view about the world which surrounds you, the society in which you live; a point of view as to how your art can reflect your judgement.

To rebel or revolt against the status quo is in the very nature of an artist. A point of view can result from the desire to change the social scene, the family scene, the political life, the state of the ecology, the conditions of the theatre itself. Rebellion or revolt does not necessarily find its expression in violence. A gentle, lyrical stroke may be just as powerful a means of expression. To portray things the way they are, to hold up a mirror to the society, can also be a statement of rebellion. You must ask yourself, "How can I bring all of this to the statement I wish to make in the theatre?"

As a follower of Jesus I have a clearly defined point of view of the world in which we live and I have been commissioned to be "set apart" - to stand against the ways of this world. In Romans 12, Paul writes:

 "Don't become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God."

It is argued that in refusing to explore certain areas of dramatic content I am limiting myself as an actor and that in doing so, I reduce my chances of "making it in the industry". Good. I am sold out for God, therefore I will not sell out to the commercial theatre industry - working to get paid instead of working on conviction. Where is the art (or faith!) in that?

I agree with Hagen's argument that in our culture we have missed the point of theatre - theatre is meant to make a statement, to challenge and to question. Even the most political pieces of theatre in our culture exist to make money, if it can't bring in revenue then it doesn't happen. So we water down our political stand-point to ensure we can put bums on seats, just as so many churches water down the message of the gospel to put bums on seats - neither challenge us, neither sustain us.

So, what is my point? My point is I want to start a revolution. I want to be involved in creating theatre that has an uncompromising point of view. I want to be involved in creating theatre that will challenge, theatre that is about something other than box office revenue. I want to see Christian artists creating work that challenges our society. I want to see schools that provide the opportunity for theatre practitioners to train to the highest standard in an environment that respects their beliefs and their boundaries, that allows them to say "no, I won't do that" without being written off.

A pipe-dream some might say. Some don't know my God. The God of my dreams is bigger than the enemy of my dreams... so put that in your pipe and smoke it!

The Point of No Return

I've been talking a lot lately about being at a point of no return. It's been three years since I started trying to walk the walk and not just talk the talk with my faith. And it has hit home in the past couple of weeks that I am well and truly past the point of no return.

I have experienced and know enough of God to know that without Him, I am nothing and in that respect I could never walk away from Him completely. But I also now know enough of Him to know that giving just a part of me to Him is not enough. If I am really serious about being a follower of Jesus it is not enough to just simply believe. It is not enough to just try to be good. I have to lay my life down and die to self. I have to say in every situation, "not my will but Yours". And that is flippin' scary!

But why? Why is it so scary to put my life in the hands of the Creator of the universe, the One who knows it all, who sees the bigger picture, who knit me together and knew me before I was born, who made me for a plan and purpose... Why is it so scary to do the safest thing of all? When it's put like that, the better question would be to ask, why am I not putting my life fully into His hands?

Why am I trundling along in this half-hearted manner, not turning back but in no way pushing forward?

Jesus came that we might have life in all its fullness, so why settle for anything short of that? But the truth is every day that is exactly what I'm doing, settling for something short of what God has for us, by getting distracted by facebook, or something on the television. By shying away from making a stand for what I believe in because of the fear of persecution or by allowing my complete lack of discipline to keep me up  so late that I struggle to get up in the morning and start my day in a rush without even acknowledging God. In the vast majority of decisions I make each day, I choose the path that leads to death.

And it feels like the more I try to sort these things out, the more I fail.

So, how can I make the switch? How can I move myself on from this sticking point, somewhere just past the last exit from God's Highway?

It's clear I can't do it in my own strength. This change has to be empowered by God. But how do I get to a point where I'm letting God in, in order that I can break out of this cycle of death-inducing choices?

The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak!

There is only one way forward. We have to change the culture in which we live. I'm not talking about the culture of the whole of Britain, not even the whole of London (yet!) but the culture within our own communities, our family units. We are called to be set apart, right? We are no longer of the world... so why are we still living like we are?

We have to embed certain behaviours into our patterns of life. We have to make reading the word as automatic as switching on the television. We have to make logging in with God, as automatic as logging in to facebook.

We are called to be set apart - yes. But we are not called to stand alone.

God saw that it was not good for man to be alone and created a companion for Adam. Left to my own devices I will wander off and busy myself with meaningless tasks, but put a group of people in front of me who are going to pray or read the word or worship together and I'm there. There is no shame in leaning on others to help us get the priorities and schedules of our lives in balance. And as we ingrain these behaviours into the rhythm of our lives they become like second nature - our new nature.

"You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; ²³ to be made new in the attitude of your minds; ²⁴ and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness." Ephesians 4:22-24

We wouldn't expect a child to be able to feed, clothe and care for themselves straight away, so why do we expect that we should be able to spiritually feed, clothe and care for ourselves? Only once we have learned and practiced and matured will we be able to do these things on our own.

It is in standing together in unity - in love - to learn spiritual discipline that we can push forward, cast out our fear and live more fully in the hands of our Creator.