A Q&A with Monty Lyman

A Q&A with Monty Lyman

Dr Monty Lyman, author of The Remarkable Life of the Skin, spoke to Mission Catalyst magazine about life on a Covid ward earlier this year. The interview is a fascinating read! If you want to hear from more engaging Christian thinkers, why not subscribe to Mission Catalyst today?

You’ve written a book about the skin. We’ve all been told that we need to wash our hands more because of Coronavirus, and my hands are in not a good state from all the hand sanitiser. Is our skin ever going to recover?

Thankfully, our skin is incredibly tough and resilient, and our whole top layer of skin, the epidermis, replaces itself every 30 days. So, I think even if we continue fairly regular hand washing practices, it won’t affect them in the long term. But I highly recommend moisturisers, cheap moisturisers are shown to be just as effective as the really expensive ones that you get in shops.
We’re spending billions on new treatments and vaccines for Covid-19, which is great, but actually the most powerful anti-viral for these kinds of coronaviruses is just soap and water. Essentially the individual soap particles completely destroy the outer membrane of the Coronavirus, so it’s probably the most effective weapon we’ve got.

It’s really interesting, in hospital a lot of the doctors are saying that cases of norovirus and other infectious diseases have dropped massively and it’s almost certainly because of increased hand washing.

What was it like working on the Covid wards, knowing you were at risk of catching the virus?

To begin with it was scary. It was scary when we saw that our senior consultants, including some professors who seem to know everything, had never seen this disease before. When the influx started, we were in A&E all looking at patients coming into the wards, and we were looking at CT scans of people’s chests and seeing something that we’d never seen before – damage across the whole lungs, really severe pneumonia that we’d only see rarely, and almost every patient coming in had the same thing.

Portrait of Monty Lyman

It was also scary that it’s a disease that we didn’t have any treatments for. We had oxygen, but that wasn’t necessarily effective, and we just didn’t know whether a patient was going to get better or deteriorate and require ICU. Probably the hardest bit about it as well was the fact that patient’s relatives weren’t able to come into the ward at all.

But actually, on the positive side, there was a lot of camaraderie. It’s easy to moan in the NHS but, when the Coronavirus crisis kicked off, we increased our intensive care unit capacity massively, we repurposed whole wards, we got retired doctors and medical students in as incoming junior doctors – it was really impressive what we managed to do as well. So, it was equally terrifying yet exhilarating.

Monty’s whole interview was included in the latest issue of Mission Catalyst, BMS World Mission’s magazine for thinking Christians.

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Are there images that will stay with you from having worked in that environment?

I think one of the hardest things was when I was assessing an 80-year-old man who started on oxygen on my ward and had moderate Covid symptoms. He’d just come off a Zoom call with his family and he asked me whether he’d be able to see his children and grandchildren again. And I couldn’t tell him whether he would or he wouldn’t, I had no idea. And it was humbling.

I think on a big scale, we feel in western society anyway that we’ve defeated a lot of disease, especially a lot of infectious diseases, and we’re on our way to overcoming cancer and ensuring we live long, healthy lives, but actually this disease has exposed that that’s not the case at all.

Quote from Monty Lyman

Chances are we’re going to have more pandemics in the future, what does our health system need to look like in order to continue to cope and perhaps better cope with pandemics like this?

We need a cohesive strategy with investment, cross-party. We need more long-term investment, it’s very easy for governments of all shapes and sizes to think about the short-term in terms of investing in a pandemic response. Our issue was that we just thought about influenza, we hadn’t thought about coronaviruses, even though the warning signs were there with SARS and MERS and other outbreaks of the past. So we need, with all of healthcare, to have a long-term, big picture view and we need to invest in preparing for another pandemic, because it will come.

I think this is also a big opportunity to look at inequalities in healthcare across society. People from Black and Asian minority ethnic groups and low-income groups have been more adversely affected and we need to look into the reasons, we need to have a full investigation as to why this happened and have a large public health discussion about inequalities in healthcare as well.

Within your ward and within the NHS, what did people think about the clap for carers?

It was mixed. People were positive about it, but there were also those who were saying we should have more support, and that energy should have been put more into things like PPE and investing in frontline workers. But it’s complex. Personally, I don’t have an easy answer because actually the PPE issue in our hospital was ok.

It’s been great to see public appreciation for what we’re doing because we were put at risk. I know fellow staff members who went into ICU, I know members of staff who died. I got Covid myself and was out for a couple of weeks and it’s good to see that recognised. I think maybe this could be linked in with having a more coherent plan in terms of PPE, and maybe the country needs to have a more streamlined way of stockpiling and distributing protective equipment around the country. So we do need to be better prepared for it and could have been better prepared for it. But credit to the hospital managers who managed to deal with the national PPE shortage pretty well.

Want to hear more thought-provoking Christian voices like Monty’s? Subscribe to Mission Catalyst magazine today!

Monty Lyman is a doctor and the author of The Remarkable Life of the Skin. He worked on the frontlines of the Coronavirus pandemic and is currently writing a book on pain, which will be published by Penguin in 2021.

Six reasons why you shouldn’t come to Catalyst Lite

Six reasons why you shouldn’t come to Catalyst Lite

(Seriously don't bother.)

Catalyst Lite is coming live to your living room at 7.30 pm on 9 October. And sure, it’s going to be the event of the year for thinking Christians, but really, it’s probably not worth it. Here’s six reasons why you should skip it this year, and definitely not keep Friday 9 October free (at 7.30 pm)(Just £5).

1. Stanley Hauerwas is going to be there

Ok sure, Stanley Hauerwas is one of the world’s leading theologians, but listening to a legend like that is a bit like hearing from the apostle Peter. Surely far too engaging for a Friday night!

And it’s not like you’ll even be able to ask him your questions! (Oh wait, there will be a Q&A section where Stanley will be answering your questions live? Ok, ignore that then.)

Stanley Hauerwas will be at Catalyst Lite
Makoto Fujimura will be speaking at Catalyst Lite

2. Artist Makoto Fujimura will be opening his studio to us

If you’re a fan of Catalyst Live, we know that you’re only interested in engaging in Scripture in a really basic way and you definitely don’t want to engage with it creatively.

Which is why you won’t want to tune in to Catalyst Lite (on Friday 9 October. At 7.30 pm.) to see how Makoto Fujimura’s stunning abstract expressionism is created or hear about the intersectionality of beauty and justice (we know all that, right?).

3. You could spend your money on something much more worthwhile

Who do these guys think they are, expecting you to fork out the whopping price of… er, £5 for a ticket to Catalyst Lite?! Ludicrous. Honestly, why spend a fiver on an event that’s going to broaden your mind and deepen your faith when you could spend it on a large extra value Big Mac meal instead? Honestly, it’s a no brainer.

4. Harry and Chris are going to make you laugh. And probably tap your weary feet

The world’s best (and only) comedy-rap-jazz duo Harry and Chris will be at Catalyst Lite to bring us some tunes and chuckles. We’ve heard that their songs are enough to have you falling out of your chair with laughter – which, quite frankly, is a bit of a health hazard. And who’s coming to a Christian conference to laugh anyway? Are we not God’s Frozen People? Save yourself the trouble and sit this one out.

Check out their video message to get a flavour of their style!

Anthony Reddie will be speaking at Catalyst Lite

5. Leading theologian Anthony Reddie is going to challenge your worldview

Anthony Reddie will be joining us (on 9 October at 7.30 pm) to talk about the theological imperative of Speaking Black Truth to White Power, some challenging stuff that’s really going to stir you up.

(Yeah, I can’t help being excited about this one. You might want to tune in to hear about this. I think this is going to be incredible.)

6. Helen Paynter will be taking on nationalism

Really, you don’t want to be spending your Friday night (specifically, Friday 9 October) having to question your entire perspective as a Christian and a citizen of the Kingdom, which is what the wonderful Helen Paynter will be speaking about. We’re sure you’d much rather spend your Friday switching off watching Coronation Street. If you’re after a quiet life, Helen Paynter speaking at Catalyst Lite definitely isn’t for you.

Helen is the cheerleader for the Don’t Come to #CatLite movement. Her video echoes our sentiments.

For legal reasons, the above story is a joke.

We think all of our speakers are going to be absolutely spectacular – trust us, you won’t want to miss this! Book your tickets now for Catalyst Lite, streaming live to your living room on Friday 9 October at 7.30 pm!

Words by Laura Durrant.

Lamenting coronavirus

‘Why have you forsaken me?’

Lamenting Coronavirus

The Coronavirus pandemic forced people across the world to face the brutality of pain and suffering – many for the first time. What has being unable to hug our loved ones or sit at the bedside of dying friends taught us about lament?

The first time the invisible power of grief struck me was when I was six years old, having just received the news of my grandfather’s death. I was apart from the safety of home and family, with little understanding of death, whilst his passing was tidily dealt with in a hospital miles away. What have you learnt by the age of six on how to grieve? I quietly tucked myself between a drawn curtain and a window running with condensation against the cold winter air outside. And sobbed. I never told the grown-ups.

Years later, I worked in a mission hospital in Zambia. When the first death occurred since my arrival, the relatives of the deceased threw themselves onto the floor, wailing in anguish and sharing their loss with all who could hear. I was shocked. I tried to tidy up the dramatic scene in front of me and bring some screens around the bed as I had been taught. ‘Give space and dignity for the bereaved’. Keep it hidden. Remain calm.

How could we be ready as a nation and a Church for the harsh loss of life, livelihoods, freedoms, choices and identity that the Covid-19 pandemic would wreak? What preparation might have been overlooked in our spiritual resilience, our theology of suffering and risk, and our ability to respond as faith-filled believers?

“Wisdom, experience and resilience lay behind the doors of those shielded”

We were not ready. Few of us had wrestled with these questions before and they were not always the ones who had a voice. Wisdom, experience and resilience lay behind the doors of those shielded due to age, disability, long-term illness and life-limiting conditions. These members of our community continue to model a faith, hope and perseverance that many of us don’t understand, perhaps until now.

“We have come to believe that if we insure against loss, immunise ourselves against pain, ignore the broken and throw it away, then we will be alright”

Let’s be really honest. Covid-19 has made us feel out of control and question if God is in control. And to make matters worse, we couldn’t necessarily ‘buy’ health and protection as the lie of consumerism says. Matthew Vaughan suggests that we have been blinded by other influences such as humanism, even as Christians, whereby we believe we can create the perfect world and that progress is achieved by us. We no longer primarily serve God but our own desires.

We have come to believe that if we insure against loss, immunise ourselves against pain, ignore the broken and throw it away, then we will be alright. That is not the gospel of the suffering servant but the ‘health and safety gospel’.

As a Church, we have to face Covid-19 on our knees. We need to look to Scripture once again and see the biblical narrative whereby God remains sovereign in a world full of folly, confusion, sin and man-made crisis. Whereby the rich and powerful abuse the vulnerability of the weak and Christ came to save us all. Suffering can draw us to himself. Our persecuted brothers and sisters will tell us that. And they remind us that the Church can grow in these times of crisis. Not all, but many. And there is testimony to that time and time again in this season.

So, what of our response? We can learn from the lives of Job and his comforters who did so well to support him for seven days. They were silent. Then they spoke with so many words! They spent chapters asking the questions of what and why Job was suffering until God himself spoke (Job 38: 8-10) and reminded them of his power, authority and character.

How many psalms do we know or sing as choruses? They will probably be ones of great rejoicing! But in the uncertainty of an invisible virus, psalms of lament help give voice to the pain that we feel. Do we still hide from others or put a screen around the pain, as I did in Zambia as a nurse? Let us do that no longer. Cry out. Admit your despair and your sense of hopelessness and helplessness. For Christ himself did that on the cross. ‘My God, my God, why have your forsaken me?’ A third of the Psalms are laments, and yet they are so often brushed over. Let us use the Psalms and Lamentations to help us journey through this season as God’s people.

Let us remember the tenderness of love in pain and suffering. The gentle touch, even with a gloved hand, of a carer, or some baked goods left on a neighbour’s doorstep. As Jesus suffered on the cross, he did not forget his mum. And I write ‘mum’ intentionally. The young girl who suffered judgement as a pregnant teenager, about whom it was prophesied that ‘a sword would pierce your heart also’, now stood below her son’s nail-torn feet on a rubbish heap watching him die. She expected to be condemned as ‘rubbish’ herself as a mother of an executed criminal and Jesus knew that. As he struggled for breath, he gave her another son, ‘Woman, here is your son.’ Is there a way that our suffering and pain can be transformative for others as we continue to love?

"As Jesus suffered on the cross he did not forget his mum"

So, how do we mourn as we look back over these months where we could not attend memorials, leave flowers or visit the sick and dying?

If you are bereaved, intentionally make space for your grieving. Remember that not all of us will be grieving a person. Loss of livelihood or hope and dreams affect us deeply. Consider what you have lost and give yourself time to tell God how hard that is. Give yourself the time and space as Jesus did when he went up the mountain on hearing the news that his cousin, John, had died. One of my closest friends died of cancer during the lockdown and missing her is not a reality whilst I cannot see her empty chair or cuddle her heartbroken children. Don’t let a pattern of loss emerge that buries reality. Ask God to step in and help you feel and grow through the pain.

"Share your suffering with your neighbours so that they meet Jesus in you."

Don’t place your own pain or stories of bereavement onto others who grieve. We each have our own journey through lament and pain, and we are better to speak less and just be. Provide food, be practical and make sure you keep in touch. And as the months pass, keep talking about that person or part of life that changed so radically as a result of Covid-19.  Listening is the greatest gift as a journey mate through pain.

Finally, share your suffering with your neighbours so that they meet Jesus in you. That might sound strange, but when God’s people are honest in their pain but still cling on to hope and faith – that is the greatest bridge to the gospel. People come to Jesus when they need meaning in their chaos. Acknowledging suffering and sharing lament is the best missional response the UK Church has to give to our communities and nation right now.

Words: Emma Dipper

Emma is Partnerships Developer and Lecturer in the Theology of Suffering and Persecution at All Nations Christian College. She wrote this article on suffering and lament for Mission Catalyst, BMS’ magazine for thinking Christians.

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Tickets for Catalyst Lite are on sale, now!

Catalyst Live 2020 is coming – and it’s more accessible than ever! Lite in length but mighty in stature, we’ll be bringing some of the world’s leading theologians and Christian entertainers to your front room for one unforgettable Friday evening. Stanley Hauerwas – considered by many to be the world’s most influential living theologian – will be leading the lineup, joined by the incredible Helen Paynter, Anthony Reddie, Makoto Fujimura and Harry and Chris (with some comedy-rap-jazz to bring in your weekend with style). They’ll all be speaking LIVE, and we are so excited! When you hear the price, you will be too!

For just £5, get your ticket for Catalyst Lite today. Be challenged. Be entertained. And embark further on the mission of the mind. You won’t want to miss this.

We have more insightful articles on life after Covid-19

Everything has changed, but has it changed enough?

As we try to feel our way towards some kind of new normal’ following the Coronavirus pandemic, have we taken the time to grieve and lament over what has been lost? Have we considered what needs to change about our economy, our health system and our Church?

The latest issue of Mission Catalyst features some fascinating articles about what we’ve learned and what we can still learn about our world through Covid-19. It’s out now! Take a look and if you like what you see, subscribe for free today!

The future of work is now

Normal wasn't that great to start with

The future of work is now

What the global pandemic and its consequences should teach us about work.

On a single day in April, Microsoft reported 200 million meeting participants on their Teams platform worldwide. Earlier that month, Zoom reported 300 million. The total population of the United Kingdom is 65 million.

For those of us who knew the catchphrases associated with ‘the future of work’ (highly distributed digital job markets, networked supply chains, virtual conferencing yadda yadda data driven decision making, blah blah machine learning, etc etc Artificial Intelligence) the effects of Covid-19 have been doubly shocking.

Most of us thought the future was far away.

And then the pandemic happened, and we scrambled to keep people in jobs, keep companies (and charities) afloat, keep as much of our work going as possible, even as the (physical) floor fell out from under us. And the Future of work felt very much like the Now of work, and normal was no longer our comfortable baseline. All choice for our pace to move into digital workspaces was taken from us.

“Workplaces that had never even considered homeworking frantically pushed to open digital doors”

So, like the very adaptable people we are, we jumped into Microsoft Teams, Zoomed our way through every type of social and work gathering, and tried to carry on collaborating to get tasks done as best we could, all whilst petting dogs, shooing cats, ordering better broadband/laptops/screens/desks and being full-time educators to all our offspring simultaneously.

Workplaces that had never even considered homeworking frantically pushed to open digital doors. People who had previously been actively against allowing people to work from home converted to being Teams champions for their organisations. Others found themselves skilling up to create good online gatherings to replace face-to-face conferences and asynchronous information sharing to replace meetings.

Now, of course, it looks like we’re heading out of our severe lockdowns. And yes, we are oh so tired of Zooming all the time and keeping those myriad digital notifications at bay, so we can be forgiven for being keen to go back to ‘normal’.

Future work Mission Catalyst Skinny banner

But here’s the thing: normal wasn’t great to start with. When it came to work and the humanity of our work, and places we worked together, ‘normal’ was increasingly found lacking. Countless studies racked up how biased our workplaces were, how our working hours disadvantaged carers, and on the flipside how hours-worked often counted far more than our quality of work. The smartest among us never loved how our meetings perpetuated unhelpful stereotypes, and how tedious repetitive tasks swamped our more enjoyable creative problem solving. We worried about how mothers couldn’t catch up to their peers on the leadership ladder, and how fathers missed bath times and dance recitals, and even when those gender roles were reversed it still seemed like we couldn’t get it right. We felt the cry of creation, even as we strapped ourselves into our cars, stepped onto train platforms and presented our passports in the name of business travel. That’s what normal looked like.

And regardless of whether you recognise these fallings-short in your own workplace, that ‘normal’ is never coming back. Not just because of the virus and its effects (although those will remain for some time), but because what people now expect from work has changed. We have hard-won knowledge that it is possible for many of us to work successfully from home at least part of the time, without those soul-destroying commutes. We have seen first-hand how fathers have enjoyed bike rides with their kids while it is still light outside. We have seen that very many of those carbon-guzzling conferences and flights were not in fact mission-critical to getting stuff done, and we had indeed confused need with want as the young activists had told us.

“We felt the cry of creation, even as we strapped ourselves into our cars, stepped onto train platforms and presented our passports in the name of business travel. That’s what normal looked like”

But we’ve also seen how lonely we get without our colleagues; how much we miss the synchronicity of the chance encounter at the watercooler that leads to cross-silo ideas springing to life. We talk about how we long for the coffee moment where we can interact casually without a work question or a justifying transaction that ‘allows’ us to request time in someone’s digital diary of video calls. We saw how easy and detrimental it is to be always-on when you’re never more than one room away from your work space, and how purposeful you have to be to lead and maintain a work-community when you’re not physically co-located.

How many of us struggled with either the long socially awkward silences in normally buzzing all-staff meetings, or the frustration when Kevin forgot to mute his microphone, and Janet never seems to come online and oh she left her Skype status on Away and hasn’t been getting notifications about this urgent problem?

It is getting better, more seamless, more fluid, more ‘natural’ to be together in these multi-person online spaces (unlike your email program, which is a personal space you run in your own unique way). But we are learning about the need for people to be shown the digital ropes about what it takes to work here. We expect to put time aside to orientate our newcomers to our places of work physically, to explain how to get tea and coffee, how to find the bathroom, where we all sit for lunch. And we should not be surprised that people need the same level of orientation to our digital workspaces too… not just how the technology works, but how WE work inside this technology. What WE think about using slang or emojis in our typing; video cameras on or off, animated gifs yes or no; do you jump in with an opinion on a Zoom call, or wait for them to call down the list of participants…

Creating these mixed physical and virtual workspaces (and inevitably the related flexibility on core hours), requires retooling our work culture, our personal work and managerial styles and, in some cases, HR policy. It requires most of all changing what we consider as normal. It may be tempting to think it’s not worth the effort. That would be a mistake. That would be failing to learn the lessons of lockdown.

The forced flexibility that was injected into our normal ‘rules’ of working (both implicit and explicit) kept our organisations afloat in crisis. But the world becomes more complex to predict, and the times of upheaval and danger are not over. What we learn (or fail to learn) from lockdown about what work can and should look like will determine the future (or lack thereof) for most, if not all, of our organisations.

Future work Mission Catalyst Skinny banner

Words: Dianna Langley

Dianna is the Director of Digital Community at NetHope and former Head of Digital Workplace at the Oxfam International Secretariat. She is a judge for the DWG Digital Workplace of the Year awards 2020 and a regular speaker at tech and CIO conferences in the UK and the US. Dianna wrote this article on the future of work for Mission Catalyst, BMS’ magazine for thinking Christians.

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We have more insightful articles on life after the Coronavirus!

Everything has changed, but has it changed enough?

As Covid-19 restrictions lift, it’s not just our workplaces that need to rethink what’s ‘normal’. In the latest issue of Mission Catalyst, our contributors talk about the changes that need to happen in our economy and our health system, what we’ve learnt about lament and inequality, the failings of the media, America’s reaction to the virus, and whether God really is sovereign in it all.

It’s coming soon and it’s a fascinating read! Subscribe now for free to get your copy.

And if you want to read about the very practical ways you’ve been supporting people across the globe during the Coronavirus crisis, make sure you’re signed up to receive Engage, the BMS magazine! It’s also got some absolutely stunning pictures from our brand-new mission worker photo competition, and shares how you can play an important part in life-saving work in Chad.

Homeless, but not hopeless

Homeless, but not hopeless

George Williams knows what it’s like to be on the streets. He also knows what it’s like to be loved by God.

George Williams became homeless in 2014. He now lives at West London Mission’s (WLM) Burgess Park House, a supported housing service for men and women who’ve served in the armed forces. This is his story, and what he’d like you to know about being homeless in the UK.

George quote: “I don’t think I could get out of bed in the morning without thanking God for protecting me and my family and friends”

What was the hardest part of being homeless?

Sometimes it’s difficult – you can’t sign on with no address, so I lost my benefit. I got it reinstalled after a couple of months, I gave the address of my friend’s where I was staying, sleeping on the floor. But he was in a hostel so I had to be out early as they would come round and check the hostel.

I had that thing inside of me, you have to get out, you have to survive, it was like the military services kicking back in. But then I got somewhere, and then I tried to commit suicide – I don’t really understand that, but I felt it was better that I just die rather than going through the hardship I was going through.

About George

George was born in Jamaica and came to England on his 12th birthday to join his father. After leaving school, he joined the Royal Greenjackets in 1980 and was deployed to Northern Ireland, receiving a commendation for bravery. After his mother died in Jamaica, he lost his appetite for soldiering and left the army. During the 1990s he was an outreach worker with drug addicts, but on returning from a visit to Jamaica he was arrested at the airport when drugs were discovered in his possession and served five years in prison. In 2006 he was shocked to find he did not have the right to work in the UK because he was still a Jamaican citizen – one of many affected by the Windrush scandal. He has had mental health problems and became ‘street homeless’ in 2014 after a failed relationship. George spent time in various hostels, but has been helped by charities including Changing Lives, the Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen and Families Association (SSAFA) and the West London Mission (WLM).

Who did you have around to talk to? Who was there for you?

My son and my daughter – I didn’t tell them what I was going through exactly, but they knew I was going through things, they would ring me up and chat. When I went into the hospital they were both there and that was uplifting for me. I talked to the SSAFA officer as well, and he came with me to the benefits office once when trying to sort things out.

How did you get on with churches?

George quote: “I would put on my suit and everyone thought I was OK”

I was a member of a church in Eltham, I used to go every Sunday. But when I moved away I lost contact. That was about four years ago. I spoke to the minister but I didn’t think he could do anything about my housing; at that time I was living in a room. I would put on my suit and everyone thought I was OK. A lot of the time I was OK.

I would do anything to help the church. At the moment I’m wrapped up a bit in me and I need not to be. I’m doing voluntary work at the City Farm. I’m doing it for the animals. I clean out their stable, I clean six stables out and do one outer donkey pen. I do one day a week. The reward is seeing the animals, the donkeys all come up to the fence, they all know me now.

Do you think people in churches understand what homelessness is like?

The ones that go to church and just go on Sunday, I don’t think they really care. I think they just go to get some spiritual healing for themselves. Those who work there do their best, but they can’t fix everything. Some don’t really know what you’re talking about as they haven’t had that void in their life, so they couldn’t really understand.

George quote - “The ones that go to church and just go on Sunday, I don’t think they really care. I think they just go to get some spiritual healing for themselves”

What would you like people in churches to know about homelessness?

When someone is homeless the church should be very understanding, more understanding than anyone else. They will be ripping out their heart to them and they are not to be taken lightly. They want to be respected and responded to in the right way. That’s why people don’t pour their hearts out, they’ve done it before and got no help. Don’t mollycoddle them, you have to try and understand them even if it’s not understandable, and treat them with respect.

What about church leaders, what would you like them to know?

Church leaders need to have it in their minds. If you are doing a half-hour speech, you need to include two minutes about homeless people. Me talking and doing this interview, I’d like it to filter through to the Archbishop of Canterbury. I have great hopes.

How does Jesus matter to you?

He’s always mattered to me, but I hadn’t always responded and recognised it. Since I’ve been in hospital, I praise him every day. I read my Bible every morning. I say my prayers every evening. I’ve always got my Bible with me, given to me by my friend.

George quote: “If you are doing a half-hour speech, you need to include two minutes about homeless people”

When I was in rehab Jesus came to me one day and he spoke to me. You might say this was a madness I was going through, but he came to me and said “I ain’t ready for you yet.” I think about that every time I feel down, and I pick up my Bible and read the Psalms. There’s everything in the Psalms, they lift me up. I don’t think I could get out of bed in the morning without thanking him for protecting me and my family and friends. I thank him for waking me up – it’s amazing to see sunlight, darkness.

I know he’s got a plan for me – but I don’t know what it is.

George told his story to WLM chaplain Ruth Bottoms. This article originally appeared in the ‘Outsiders’ issue of Mission Catalyst magazine.

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Q&A with Justin Welby

Justin Welby:

A Mission Catalyst Q&A

Anglicanism’s most powerful person on power dynamics between the West and the rest.

Mission Catalyst quiz the Archbishop of Canterbury on power and the world.

Do you recognise the contention that it’s time the Church in the West and the North listens better to the Majority World Church, or do you think that’s a red herring?

It’s certainly not a red herring, whatever it is, but listening isn’t enough. We have to change. This has been a real thing of mine for a very long time, most of my life, since being greatly influenced by Kenyan Christians in the 1970s. But in just the last few months I’ve been enormously struck by Robert Heaney’s book called Post-Colonial Theology. Anyone who’s concerned about differentials of power should read that book. It’s uncomfortable reading. A very powerful book. The point is that we’ve moved from a point of straightforward colonialism through to saying: ‘It’s a very good thing that local people are made bishops’, through to where we are now which is to say: ‘We must listen to the Global South.’

We love our sisters and brothers in the Global South, provided they agree with us. If they don’t agree with us, then to quote Bishop Jack Spong in the 90s: “Well then they’re just one generation away from barbarism.”

Wow. That’s horrendous.

It’s the other side of horrendous. I mean nowadays, I think it would genuinely be called racist, and quite rightly. I’ve had a theologian in this country say to me: ‘Why are you so concerned about Global South theology? There aren’t any serious theologians in the Global South.’ So, it’s a long answer, but it’s a very profound question, of course we’ve got to listen. We could go a long way beyond listening. We’ve got to allow ourselves to be changed.

We could go a long way beyond listening. We’ve got to allow ourselves to be changed.

How do I listen to my Ugandan brothers when they’re pro-death penalty for homosexuality or some of my brothers and sisters in India who don’t believe women should speak in church? How do we negotiate that without enforcing a new liberal imperialism?

Well, we do enforce a new liberal imperialism. We’re there already. And not just within the Church. It’s part of the overall way in which the global system runs. Many of those things are really good things, let’s be clear. I’m not saying it’s wrong to oppose the death penalty for homosexuality, I’m not saying it’s wrong to oppose all kinds of female mutilation. But first of all we have to know our own history.

It’s a century since General Dyer’s troops opened fire on an unarmed crowd and killed probably over a thousand people. The world trade system, the world economic system are Global North controlled. And the theology is simply part of that system. So, how do we listen? We recognise the situation we’re in. We know our history and we don’t say: ‘oh well, the Global South is right because they’re the Global South.’ We must find ways of not arguing from a position of power and leverage with the implicit threat that if you don’t agree with us, you can’t participate.

Should the aim be to try and strip cultural context from our theology or to try and make it ever more contextual but in different modes?

To strip cultural context from our theologies is like saying: ‘Should the aim be to levitate?’ It isn’t a physical possibility, it’s a not a psychological possibility either. The longer this goes on, the more I think about it, the more I am deeply, deeply aware of my own inset prejudices. Deeply felt, right down in the depth of my being. And we can’t strip our theology.

I think like a middle class 63-year-old English man. That’s how I think, from my particular background and history – I can’t help thinking like that, there’s no switch you can turn. But I can be aware that I think like that.

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1 Peter 5 says, ‘Humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God so that in due time he may exalt you.’ Humble yourself so that he exalts you. And then it goes on to say, and it’s all part of the same sentence, ‘cast all your cares on him, for he cares about you’. Now the second part is as important as the first part – we only ever quote the first part, or the second part separately – but they go together. What does humbling ourselves mean? It means giving the problems to God. As Christians we say: ‘I can’t cope with these folk, because everything in me says they’re wrong. So, God, how am I going to deal with this?’ We’ve got to take it to God. It’s not just about being able to pray together and say ‘amen’ and sing happy songs together. We don’t want Kumbaya Christianity, we want Christianity that deeply opens up our gut and changes our inside.

The latest Mission Catalyst cover. A graphic of David and Goliath with the caption 'Power: are we holding on to it?'

Does western liberal (for want of a better word) Christianity have something to offer the rest of the world? And what is it?

At its best it’s a humble and confident engagement with the world as it is, not hiding in a bubble and seeking to make the world as we’d like it to be. In other words, it says: ‘Well, this is reality, how are we going to deal with it?’

You know, you mentioned the issue of people’s sexuality… Some people are gay. Let’s not say there are no gay people. Let’s say some people are gay. They are human beings within Christ’s eyes, they have the same human dignity as every other human being on the face of the planet. So, what are the consequences for that? How do we think this through with our sisters and brothers whose cultural instincts – put there by us, very often, the law was put there by us, just let’s be clear, in our history – are very different? I think at its best, liberalism says this is the structure, this is the reality. This sense of saying: ‘my conclusion is right and you ignorant people have to learn how to be less ignorant,’ which isn’t said explicitly but it is implicitly, is liberalism at its worst. You find it in every part of the Church, in every theological approach.

Can evangelicalism survive this new world?

Christianity will survive. I’m not a party person, I don’t carry a party card. To describe yourself nowadays as an evangelical means you have to say: ‘yes, but I’m not one of that sort, or of this sort’. I’m a Christian. I’m an orthodox Christian, for whom the Bible, properly interpreted, is my final authority, in matters of faith and praise. That’s what I am. Will that survive? Yes, absolutely! And there will be a load of arguments about what properly interpreted means, but would you call it evangelicalism? Some evangelicals say, ‘yes of course it is,’ others will say, ‘well no, that’s not real evangelicalism because it doesn’t tick this box or that box’, and liberalism will be the same and Anglo-Catholicism will be the same and traditionalists will be the same.

The labels are less important than whether we love and serve Jesus Christ. Do we come back for Jesus Christ, are we humbled by the beauty and glory and grace and love that reaches out to us every morning as sinners and lifts us up?

Does institutional power always necessarily have to corrupt? Or can it be useful for making change?

Oh it can certainly be useful for making change. ‘Corrupt’? I think I would go for the word ‘corrode’. I think it’s corrosive. I think what it can do is like rust, it weakens the structure, and in the end the structure fractures. But it takes a while.

How hard is not leveraging your power when you’re the head of the Anglican Communion?

First of all, it’s complicated. Hard is probably the wrong word. It is very complicated.

There is power and you can misuse it. You learn to be extremely careful about what you say. And to regret when I’m not very careful about what I say.

You’ve got to constantly hold yourself back, and rather than saying, ‘that sounds like a good idea, we’ll do that’, you say: ‘that sounds like a good idea, I need to ask a dozen people what they think’. And every now and then, just very occasionally, the whole lot will say, ‘that’s a really bad idea’, and I say: ‘I’m going to do it.’ And then I’m usually proved wrong. Jesus washed feet, if we’re not washing feet, we’re not doing the job.

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Catalyst Live 2020

Looking for more Mission of the Mind?

Time to get out the diary and block out 9-10 October.  With headline speaker Stanley Hauerwas, American theologian, ethicist, and public intellectual, as well as a panel of today’s top speakers, you won’t want to miss Catalyst Live 2020!

It’s your chance to think about the world, with the world. Catch talks delivered by the best Christian thinkers around and together, tackle the toughest issues Christians face today.

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Interview by Jonathan Langley.
This interview first appeared in
Mission Catalyst, Issue 1 of 2020.
Interview conducted at Greenbelt Festival.

Think deeper: why we handed over our magazine to Europe

Think deeper:

Why we handed over our magazine to Europe

The World Church is not just situated in Africa and Asia. We have much to learn from Europe. And there’s an easy way to start.

It’s 2019. We’re handing over control to Europe

It’s becoming almost fashionable to talk about listening to the World Church these days. And that’s a good thing. It’s not virtue-signalling or PC gone mad, it’s just wisdom and humility. The World Church is growing and we in the UK are experiencing contraction and a loss of privilege. We’d be arrogant or delusional to think we had nothing to learn from Christians in the Majority World. And we’d be spiritually and intellectually poorer if, in this connected age, we didn’t make use of emerging opportunities to hear voices we are not used to hearing. Voices from beyond the heartlands of our established western theology like Britain, Germany and the USA. That’s why BMS World Mission is committed to helping our UK family hear from Christians in places that don’t usually influence us. The God-given blessing that is the World Church.

So, we’re all agreed that we need to listen to the World Church, right?

But, are we limited in our thinking? There’s a danger in our automatic imagining about who (and where) the World Church is. Too often, we limit it to warm climates, different races or minority communities of evangelicals. In short: Africa, Asia and Latin America. BMS is committed to learning from the Church in these places as we do mission alongside their churches, and to bringing what we learn back to the UK. The countries and cultures we generally think of as the Majority World can teach us fresh practice and challenging, new theology, it is true. But, so can Europe.

An illustration of the EU flag, with people hanging off the stars, with the Mission Catalyst logo in the corner.
Find out the connection between Brexit, Second Corinthians and Baptists by subscribing to Mission Catalyst today.

And often we forget that fact – and in doing so we forget our brothers and sisters across the channel and the continent. We need to build an awareness of a Europe beyond our reflexive imagining.

BMS has long worked in Europe – in places where the physical need is greatest and the Church is most marginalised. And we also believe that we can learn much from our sisters and brothers there.

Mission Catalyst: The contributors
  • Rev Dr Mike Pears

    (The Netherlands)

  • Walter Klimt

    (Austria)

  • Andrea Klimt

    (Germany)

  • David Bunce

    (Austria)

  • Ksenija Magda

    (Croatia)

  • Jan Martijn Abrahamse

    (The Netherlands)

  • David McMillan

    (The Netherlands)

  • Denys Kondyuk

    (Ukraine)

  • Henrikas Zukauskas

    (Lithuania)

Guest-edited in the other Europe

That’s why we’ve dedicated an issue of our immensely popular magazine, Mission Catalyst, to hearing voices from Europe. We are very proud to announce that it will be guest-edited by Mike Pears, the Centre Director of the International Baptist Theological Study Centre (IBTSC), based in Amsterdam. IBTSC’s roots are in Prague and they serve Christians from all over the world, with a large number coming from the Europe most of us never hear from.

Croatia. Ukraine. Lithuania. If you’ve not recently read much Christian thought from these countries, subscribe to Mission Catalyst today to be sure to get our Europe-focused issue next month.

If you’re interested in learning more about the Church in parts of the World that often get overlooked, where the most marginalised and least evangelised people are in need of Christian witness, this issue is for you. And if you’re excited to make 2019 the year you deepen your engagement with the World Church, so are we! We’ve all got some distance to travel, but God is good. And even a small starting point can lead to a great journey.

Why not start today?

This is your chance to challenge yourself with the difficult topics facing Christians today. Subscribe to Mission Catalyst today to hear from the greatest Christian minds of the modern day, three times a year, completely free!

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The cover of Mission Catalyst issue 3, 2019, an illustration of a sleeping English bulldog next to a gramophone.
Subscribe to Mission Catalyst now to get your copy!

Words by Jonathan Langley, Editor of Mission Catalyst magazine.