Coventry Congregation

The Kings House Saturday night household meeting had fired up with a question, "What was the worst thing you can remember doing?"  One brother admitted to having weed over the back of the WC pedestal when he was six, and then having lied to his mother.  Clearly we weren't in immediate danger of attracting tabloid attention.

On Sunday morning I made a bid for Mary and I to get to the Coventry Jesus Centre early.  I had to tee up Nick with a video I wanted to show, and to check he was happy with my powerpoint.  He was simultaneously, and I hope not distractedly, updating House of Goodness's main server.  Rob led the worship, and unlike last time, when we'd had a forest of announcements, I had to drag folks to the front to achieve some participation.  Andy told us about the congregation's 'pitch' held on the Cathedral steps in Freshers Week.  "You get two minutes.  Bethel tells them they're the best for bible teaching.  Another church says they're the best for worship.  A third says they serve coffee and donuts in the meeting.  Another says they meet in the afternoon for max convenience."  He was leading up to our bit.  "We said, 'We've just come back from Gloucester, where we've been training four young guys in evangelism.  Come with us and be discipled.'"  He continued, "I asked the girl standing next to me what she thought."  "I wonder what time they serve the donuts," was her answer.

Andy also reported on how the New Friends Course was going, and the Sunday evening experiment of holding the meeting in Esquire's Coffee Bar.  These had all started since I was last in Coventry at the start of September.  It was creditable progress.  I talked some more about the call to mission.  We watched the video   http://www.jesus.org.uk/videos/special-short/christian-treasure-hunting and I got people moving around praying for one another.  Then the final announcement was that we'd shortly be gathering at Lady Herbert's Garden for congregation lunch.

This little corner of Coventry city centre is intriguing, and the sunshine promised to make it a pleasant gathering.  Caelan climbed on the exposed section of city wall.  I asked him how old he thought it may be.  An adjacent plaque read 1440, so I suggested he did the maths.  He got it right, just like our Neive, his classmate, confirms.   Mary and I found a spot next to Jane, who has single-handedly churned out the JeD software package that undergirds the admin, services and performance aspects of our Jesus Centres.  She also used to live with us in the way-back-when days, with two other graduates, in extended family.  As I'm on a mission to recover some of the stepping stones to community, I fired a few questions about her recollections, and the challenges of community today.

The park-keeper announced it was time to leave, so we wound our way back to the car park.  This took us past the weekly Coventry Foodbank.  About 40 contributors lined up boxes of drystuffs and tables of other food on a low wall next to the footpath.  About 200 punters were queueing up, and generally milling around with carrier bags and plates of ready-to-eat.  I took a quick photo, as it seemed intrusive to stare.   I guess we'll see quite a number of them in the Jesus Centre later in the week.  So this is a Coventry snapshot.  I'm back again shortly for the quarterly Management Committee meeting.

Sweeny4

Phil walked in with a smart new haircut.  This was rare.  He's one of those characters who generally seems to have taken a knife and fork to his hair whilst leaning over the bathroom sink, and then finished it off with a three-week old razor, just to give his ears a bit more airspace.  His glasses too, look as though they're held together with sellotape.  So presenting himself conspicuously tidily was worth a compliment.  "I had it done free," he stated, "as a model for a trainee. Just down Eccleshall Road". 

He had me hooked.  Through my community years, I've engaged with haircutting from two directions.  First, where I could get done, traditionally free, and by someone who had half an idea.  And then learning to give them, both with scissors and an electric trimmer, as a small contribution to my brethren's welfare.  (Nape hair is the great amateurish give-away; I have a thing about it.)  But when I moved to Leeds, I gave this up as one job too many in a busy life, and because David (living with us) was pretty good.  He was grateful to inherit my kit.  And I'd also conceded that popping down from the Jesus Centre to the walk-in emporium at the bottom of the Moor for a pensioners afternoon £3 concessionary was just a no-brainer.  Free, at a professional barbers, sounded too good not to explore. 

Now this was May, when winter hadn't really packed up and gone, and the forecast was grim (you remember the miserable Whitsun Bank Holiday?).  But I was due for two weeks in India in September, and a bit of forward thinking could have me ready with a buzz cut for the guaranteed high temperatures, whatever the English summer may bring in-between.  I rang Alex, on the number advertised in the shop window: "A number 4?"  "Yes; sure.  Come down after 1.30pm."  I don't understand why I was surprised that Alex was a lady.

I was ushered to a seat at the far end and introduced to Christian.  "Number 4 all over?" Alex enquired.  "It'll seem short."  True, I had grown quite a thatch since my last haircut.  It had been particularly stylish, swept up from one side with a blower.   It hadn't stayed looking tidy for much more than a couple of weeks.   Christian was nervous.  Maybe me pulling out my hearing aids hadn't helped.  "Did I drag you away from anything important?" he politely enquired.   "Nah, I do some charity work, y'know, down at the Jesus Centre."  My red cross was unavoidably conspicuous.  "Mmm,"  he replied. "I met Nayth and Chris last year.  An' I know Viv.  They came round to our place one night.  An' Viv keeps inviting me round for tea."  Wow, I thought, how did this happen?

We chatted on and he buzzed away, still somewhat hesitantly.  Alex came over and gave him some tips on grading.  I nodded at my beard.  "You can have a go at that, if it's part of your practise."   We agreed on a regime, and out came a new smaller electric trimmer.  Then we settled that my ears needed attacking.  Alex did one; Christian the other.  "Sorry," she broke in. "This is all taking an awful long time.  Can I offer you a drink or something?"  I was gratified, but declined.  She leaned forward.  "Now, what are we going to do about the eyebrows?"  Since everything else had been pruned like roses in February, I had to concede.   "I love doing eyebrows!" she glowed, like a gourmand who's saved the best til last, and is about to indulge.  I smiled, and suspected that poor Christian wasn't going to get a look-in on this.  I looked in the mirror.  Yes, this was at least as svelte as Phil.

Four weeks before the Multiply India trip I went down again.  Christian was nowhere to be seen.  Another trainee, who was at the end of her apprenticeship, produced a confident and proficient job in half the time.  "About how long would you expect a cut like this to last?" I ventured.  "Oh, come back in another couple of months."  I put a reminder in my phone diary.

The third visit, Christian was my man again.  We chatted some more about the guys he'd met, and I invited him to Praise Day, where they'd be sure to be there.  He was grateful that Viv kept in touch.  The shop's hours are set to catch the customers' convenience, so he's not likely to get a lot of free evenings.  Then he mentioned that he was due to be off to India for a holiday.  (He also said he wished he could grow a decent beard.)  I told Alex he'd noticeably grown in confidence.  This time I remembered to give him a tip, too.  Nice one.

Family Day

Our whole family gets together in autumn once every year.  It's a great idea, and usually a great occasion, though it never quite fulfills its full eligible quota.  When I say our family, it's really Mary's immediate relatives.  I only have two living cousins on my father's side, though twelve on my mother's.

At the risk of sounding like the genealogy of the seventy persons who came with Jacob to Egypt, I'll list them.  Ted and Win Haines (both deceased) had Mary, Tony and Mick.  Mary married Ian and had Ellen, Gav, Viv, Kat and Lizzie.  Tony married Diane (her parents, living with them, are Ted and Irene), and had Jon, Dan, Jess and Emma. Mick is unmarried - single for the Lord.  Ellen married Andrew and has Ben, Ryan, Dean and Faye; Gav married Georgie and has Neive, Elise and Nate; Viv - like his uncle Mick is committed single; Kat married AJ and has Zeb and Zane; Lizzie's partner is Col.  Jon married Emma and has Suzy and Imogen (twins) and Lara; Dan married Tam and has Lois and Bay; Jes's partner is Tom; Emma married Dan (they now live in New Zealand).  That's 38 souls.  Though the names don't spell it out, there have been no divorces, and neither are there currently any step children. 

Then it get's interesting.  Sometimes Diane's sister Gayle has come with her husband Tony, and their three children, of whom the eldest is Gareth, and the next Ellen.  Do you notice there are two Teds, two Tonys, two Emmas, two Dans and two Ellens; with each pair in the same generation?  Tony and Diane have five grand children, all girls.  Lizzie met up with Gareth in - of all places - Banff, Canada; and Jon and Emma lived there for six month before they married.  Georgie's Dad, Jerry, lives at Burnham on the nearby coast.

The customary meet-up is at Tony's and Diane's home in Corston near Bath.  Three of their brood (plus Diane's parent, if you've been paying attention) live locally, making a home team of 15.   Then Mick, Ellen and Gav plus crews live in the midlands (12 more).  So the northerners (just seven of us) draw the short straw of having to travel furthest.  We're lucky if we see the out-of-UK contingent of Lizzie and Col and Emma and Dan.  (Let's check if that adds up to 38?)  Yes, we've had the get-together at Mick's place, Cornerstone, and once even in the Manor, Leeds, when Mary and I lived there.  But the arrangement seems to have settled into a routine, and it suits our busy church diary.  We usually get some sunshine, allowing lunch outside.  If we're lucky, it coincides with Tony's Men's Fellowship monthly breakfast meeting, and the guys get a 'full English' in a pub in Bath, too. 

Tony's birthday, back in May, found Mary and I and Mick joining him for a family finance trust AGM in Cheltenham.  This is dictated by the terms of their aunt Mabel's will.  We compared diaries and picked a free Saturday in October to get the family day together.  I banged off text messages to our various offspring, but omitted to email too.  This left space for some last-minute consternation in September, and a strident outcry from Lizzie.  Meanwhile, Mary and I arranged to be in Coventry for their Sunday morning meeting on the day following.

Then Ellen's car's cam belt broke.  Being a 'Mum's taxi' type of MPV meant that they wouldn't be able to fit six - plus Holly the mongrel - into Andrew's work car.  Gav wasn't able to offer more than one spare seat, and Viv was going to travel straight from Northampton on Friday night.  So I asked to use Kings House minibus.  Kat and AJ decided to jump a lift, too, and we stayed over at Kings ready for an early getaway.  The Men's Breakfast would have to be sacrificed (though Viv and Tony got to attend).  I had wanted to find out how they manage regularly to get about a hundred blokes along, when we get minimal interest in our annual Men Alive event.

The most direct route Bath-wards is along the Fosse Way and A46.  I've driven it before, but a long time ago, so brought a map.  We had a bright morning and made good time.  Ben squeezed next to me and I discovered what a good map reader he is.  "We take the A429, then get onto the A433, the we join the A46.  After we've crossed the M4 we come down to the A420, turn west and then look for a white road - past Sir Greville Fox's monument - that leads to other white roads that take us down through Weston to the A4.  Got that?"  He had.  I was impressed.  Then he lost interest, as he had to do an interview with Mary about the Second World War.  I had to fill in directions with snippets from the satnav.  Then we had temporary panic.  Mick texted that he was left without a lift at Bath station, at precisely the moment the 'white roads' failed to yield a network signal.

The sunny weather granted time for relaxed conversations.  The three dogs competed for chasing balls.  We cooed at Lara and Bay, just weeks old.  Tony and I discovered that he'll be in Lilongwe, Malawi, in November, and I next March.  Nate pushed the plastic lawnmower up and down with great joy.  AJ ran a treasure hunt involving jumbo Lego, which Lois won.  Lunch straggled on to afternoon tea, with more home-baked recipes spread on the table.  We gathered for the obligatory set-piece photograph.  Viv left earliest to set up for the evening's Arena meeting in Sheffield Jesus Centre.  I eventually got the minibus underway, and dropped off Mick at Hopwood services on M42.  It was pitch dark at Bascote Moorings when Ellen and crew disembussed.  Mary and I earned a muted cheer when we joined Kings' household meeting.  Job done.

Same again next year, no doubt.  Shall we match 34 out of the 38?  Or will it even be more than that?

Trustee Training

We're working hard on succession for our church trusts and business boards.  For sure, we know that the rising generation will not be prepared to become a fresh pair of legs under an old burden.  They must have a say in shaping for the future.  So, much was to hang on the inter-generational training day that Mick conceived after conversations with our Birmingham-based charity lawyers, Anthony Collins. 

Mick puts a lot into shaping our culture, and it's more that cosmetic.  Well in advance we received an informative programme brief, and I got a schedule of table groups.  The key business players and central office teams were under orders to make themselves - and other people invited - available for the day.  Viv and I drove down together.  He's been 'in attendance' at Charitable Trust (JACT) meetings for a year or so.  It's part of his Professional Development Group programme experience - another initiative running to deliver more sustained input to significant employees going forward into management. 

Cornhill Kings Room was purposefully laid out for the job, and Farhad, Mick's PA, was busy.  Simon, our 'facilitator' for the day, stepped forward and made introductions.  It turned out that he attends the Methodist Church where Mick's family were members, and Mary and I married.  As the 50-plus delegates straggled in, Simon repeated the process.  This, too, was more than cosmetic.  It became apparent during the day that he'd remembered an impressive number of names. 

I was due to lead a group from the Church Life Trust, the top-level instrument for our Regions' organisation.  This would be a new challenge, as I'm most embedded in JACT (the Jesus Centres charity) and our Group businesses board.  Life Trust embraces Multiply, and I wondered if this was how I qualified.  In the event, owing to a few absences, I did end up with a JACT group.  It was just three of us: Jayne and Stevo, from Northampton Jesus Centre, and me.

Simon briefly previewed the day's programme, designed to introduce us into running effective meetings.  The he got us straight into an icebreaker activity.  We had to draw - or write - on a post-it note, what fired up our energy in the work situation and away from it.  Then we had to mingle round and explain it to as many people as possible.  I wrote Research on both halves.  This provoked a snort of derision from Stevo, which wasn't a promising start.

Simon's first session was aimed at challenging mindsets that say the most important component in a meeting is the tasks in hand.  No, it's the people, in all their diversity, ability and experience.  He bobbed from flipchart board to flipchart board (there were three tactically placed at different points in the room), and back to his projector.  Then each table had a go at breaking down the question "what's the big issue facing us" into as many contributions as we could harvest, followed by a synthesis to render all the material into one or two key points.  It was a serious challenge.  In the end, Simon sent round 'flying moderators' to slash through the excess where groups were struggling with the consolidation process.  Brilliant.

Our flipcharts were scooped up for Simon's secretary to compile our final offerings, so that after the coffee break we had the results neatly on the screen.  This had all relied largely on in-house focus.  Session two went the other way - producing an analysis of major environmental factors.  Our table was given the one word the Economy.  This had to be exploded into a set of concrete objectives, by which our Jesus Centres could respond to prevailing circumstances, and plan ahead to remain relevant as trends moved forward.  Over lunch, all this was typed up, too.

After the lunch break, Stevo and I took a stroll.  We exchanged notes on Myanmar - where his parents have just landed for six months' church work, and our community initiative in Northampton's eastern development, where he lives with his family.

Now it was time to tackle techniques for handling change processes, and to demystify buzzwords like brainstorm.  More contributions, more lists; flipchart sheets everywhere.  The activities bounced along, followed by cheers for those who had worked hardest at scribbling down everything.   Simon remained firmly in control of the clock, whilst thanking us for every contribution, and somehow managing to turn it to use.  In the finale, the room broke into two, and we competed for even the wackiest suggestions to make meetings more effective. 

"I've no idea how I'll use all this in the meetings as we have them," Jen commented afterwards.  No, I can't see us deliberating while remaining standing up, or taking the agenda in reverse order.  But it was a glimpse of the fact that we could, if so inclined.  

Narrow Way Again

In August, we'd held RAW (Real And Wild) in Leicester.  They say it was the best ever.  A significant difference from previous RAWs was the target age-group, just up to 25 rather than up to 35.  Earlier in the summer, our Youth Camps had made a big impact on the around-16 age range.  So the RAW core team was keen to follow on within this Holy Spirit movement.  Some mouldy oldies' had gone along as team facilitators and mentors.  The local Leicester saints had booked premises in the city centre for team gatherings, and subsequently to keep in touch with people that had been met.  This included an early evening Saturday afternoon get-together in the Cafe of Bishop Street Methodist Church.  I was keen to join the congregation in this current experiment.

Mary and I loaded up Lillian and her electric scooter, and headed down the M1.  We dropped off our bags at Narrow Way (off Narborough Road), then cut across to Springfield House (in Stoneygate).  Here we dropped off Lil, and had some tea before joining the minibus into the city centre.  Sitting around the cafe tables, and wandering around the worship area, I had time for a lengthy catch-up with Richard and with Clive, key local leaders.  My relationship with these guys has benefited enormously from the weekends that Mary and I have visited in the past year.   Four new folks had joined the gathering, and Andy popped up to lead a couple of worship songs, followed by some personal prayer.  It was a wholesome and holding couple of hours.  The past year has also seen the two church household come together much more.

We were back at Narrow Way with enough of the evening left to attempt something worthwhile.  Richard and Margaret were just back from seeing two of their sons down south, and I got asked about the recent Multiply trip.  Conversation flowed easily and inclusively: the best of relaxed house family life.  Carl and Akke went off to join the late night evangelism and healing team, again in the city centre.

For the Sunday morning, we were back at Netherhall.  I talked about the importance and validity of each person's testimony about their experiences with God.  I related the incident when, at home, the neighbour opposite's car rolled down the drive, across the road, and smacked into our garden wall.  On board were the family's two young sons: one had meddled with the handbrake while the parents were loading up for their holiday away.  Neil had checked out the damage; Dave had run to tell the parents; Mary had rushed to console the boys; I'd stood in the road to slow down other traffic.  Thus, we - all four - would have a different account and perspective of the same incident.  Just as we have in the gospels, and just as has been authentic in Christian witness ever since.   The point was well received. 

During the afternoon, Richard and Dave cooked up an imaginative means to capitalise on this for our evening get-together.  They laid out a strip of drafting tape along the wood-effect floor of the dining room, and marked it in decades starting from 1930 up to today.   Once the get-together was underway, Richard and Dave gave accounts of their lives at 1995, 2000, 2005 and 2010, tracing the faithfulness of God and new discoveries in their Christan walks.  Then we all spread out along the line to mark when we were born, and afterwards - some volunteers - the date of first finding faith, with the events that led up to it and followed.

We were spellbound by each others' accounts.  I hear they've since had a re-run, because folks who missed the first chance wanted another opportunity.  At Springfield, on our way to pick up Lil, we heard that they'd also shared stuff together like this.  St Benedict used to insist that the purpose of community life must centre on the experienced presence of God.  Norman Grubb described sharing testimonies as the key to continuous revival.  Well, we'd had a welcome taste of it.