“…we all want to be ‘successful’ pioneers, not the, ‘well done for having a go’ kind”. A post expressing some of what I was feeling having made an unexpected move to Sheffield in 2017…
The keen eyed amongst you will have noted that Deeper and Encounter both came to an end in 2017 (see ‘Who I am’). As you may imagine, there are much longer stories behind the culmination of both of those projects. Suffice to say that without question, in the whole of the last twenty five, the last three years have been the toughest in ministry, for myself and Linsey. I will expand more on this much later but without naming names and apportioning blame. Don’t bother to read ahead to search for the gory details, you won’t find any. There will be just be lots of honest reflection, winsome humility, and profound personal learning. My simple perspective would be that, as regularly seems to happen, two pioneering projects ended up at logger heads with their sponsoring institution, in this case a diocese within the Church of England.
‘Everyone…talks a good game about the need for entrepreneurs to take risks and pioneer, even if they ‘fail’.
So having lived the whole of our lives in one place in the south of England, and only ever exercised ministry there, we are now on a period of extended study leave, in the north. At the beginning of 2017 it became clear that our role in the work in Romford would come to an end, as the projects concluded. Partly in response, a friend invited us to live with her in Sheffield, and join the missional community which she was leading there. Beginning with a gift of official sabbatical from the diocese, we moved to Sheffield in the summer and will be here for the foreseeable future.
As you can imagine, and as I think anyone would, I have mixed feelings about this. At one level we find ourselves towards the end of 2017 in a place geographically and emotionally that we could never have dreamed or imagined at the beginning of 2017. This wasn’t how we anticipated this working out. Deeper particularly, had been regarded with a lot of favour – by the diocese, by strategic partners in the town centre – churches and statutory bodies alike. It was experimental, risky, and ground-breaking. We had earned a good reputation for working in places the church doesn’t normally – on the streets late at night; and working with people the church doesn’t normally – marginalised and disaffected youth. I passionately wanted to see that little plant thrive and flourish and become a mighty tree, in order that it would make a significant impact for the kingdom of God in Romford. I guess I was hoping that Deeper would be Romford’s, and ‘mine’ if I’m honest, Soul Survivor or XLP[1].
‘…[t]here are two kinds of pioneers:
Hirsch and Catchim
those who have already experienced failure and those who will’.
Clearly it hasn’t worked out like that. Everyone, to the highest organisational levels, talks a good game about the need for entrepreneurs to take risks and pioneer, even if they ‘fail’. To quote a Tweet I recently came across from Hirsch and Catchim, ‘[t]here are two kinds of pioneers: those who have already experienced failure and those who will’. I understand that the potential for ‘failure’ is part of risk taking, I really do. But in all honesty, nobody wants to be the person who tries something and it doesn’t work out. For a plethora of reasons we all want to be ‘successful’ pioneers, not the, ‘well done for having a go’ kind.
At worst it can feel like this time is one of self-imposed exiled – choosing to move to somewhere that we were neither desiring, nor expecting to. A relatively quick decision to move from a context that we have called ‘home’ for fifty years, and away from long established and good relationships with friends and family[2].
So it’s a humbling time. Rather than just jumping straight in to look for a new job we are planning to stay in Sheffield beyond the official three months sabbatical time, ‘for the next season’. Neither Linsey nor I will be employed full-time so our income will be very limited. To that end, God bless them, my kind and generous parents are giving us a modest financial gift each month to help with this time of living more frugally. Essentially I’m fifty years old and receiving pocket money from my mum and dad! And we are supported by other very faithful friends and family members too. It’s not really how we imagined we’d be living in middle age, particularly as some of our peers begin to contemplate retirement.
And yet at another level this is an amazing gift of time and space. At the end of twenty five years of ministry we are viewing this as a rare and God given opportunity for some ‘time out’ – how many people get to have a gap year in their 50s? It’s a period in which we are beginning to experience some healing and restoration. And, in the words of the rock band U2 between albums in the 1990s, ‘it’s a time to go away, and think the whole thing up again’. We are living on the edge of the Peak District, where we are regularly able to take some amazing and soul restoring walks. We are part of a group of young adults who have given their lives to mission on a tough estate in the north of Sheffield – they are inspiring us. It’s a time to exercise faith, to take some risks and to learn from being immersed in an entirely different context. So when we’re choosing to believe the very best, which is after all what God calls us to, it is a great adventure. We’ve described it as us having lived and celebrated the end of Part One, we are now taking time to get match fit for Part Two.
As this introduction concludes, I will bring the story right up to date by sharing some of the big questions with which I’m wrestling in this sabbatical season. The processing of which is helping to bring closure to Part One, and is good preparation for Part Two.
[I’ll leave the full unpacking of these questions to the book]:
- Who am I now?
- What does it mean to live as a Christian, and not receive any money for it? (strange but true when my employment and Christian faith have been synonymous for twenty five years!)
- Will I have the courage to sacrifice again?
- Will I be able to take risks again?
- Will I be able to give my heart and soul to an institution again?
Finally, at 50 I anticipate and hope that I still have a good few years of ministry in me. I feel, God willing, that I’m at a half way point in terms of the fulfilment of God’s calling on my life. For some that thought may leave them thinking, “only half way, you mean there’s still more of this stuff to come?” For me, I am genuinely excited, honoured and thrilled at the prospect – “amazing – I’m only at the half way point!” To that end, the most important question in my heart, and the one which trumps all the others is this:
- Having said ‘yes’ to the Lord’s call nearly thirty years ago, what is the most effective way I can serve Him, for the second half of my life in ministry?
Big
questions. For now, in the words of
Corrie Ten Boon, I am choosing to trust an unknown future to a known God;
choosing to believe that He who called me, has been, is, and will continue to
be faithful[3]. And that is really all that matters.
[1] Soul Survivor, www.soulsurvivor.com and XLP, www.xlp.org.uk, are two significant Christian youth ministry organisations based in the UK.
[2] My goodness I’m aware as I write that this is very much a ‘first world problem’, and that many people have similar experiences but for far more catastrophic and tragic reasons. I am conscious of that, whilst simultaneously trying to describe my current circumstances and feelings as honestly as I can.
[3] 1 Thessalonians 5:24