A Culture of Repair

Adrian Lowe published this on Substack and with permission I reproduce it here. For those who are regular readers they will note that it continues a set of essays regarding ‘mammon’.


But old clothes are beastly, continued the untiring whisper. We always throw away old clothes. Ending is better than mending, ending is better than mending, ending is better… — Aldous Huxley.

My proposition in this collection of essays, that we are all in some way or other subject to the power, control and influence of Mammon, is one thing; offering a proposition of how we could live free from the domination of the Mammonic narrative is something quite different. It requires what the late Walter Brueggemann calls ‘prophetic imagination’—a God-given vision of an alternate reality to that which we see unfolding in the prevailing culture. He was right! However, the truth is that, at best, we are spellbound by the rewards Mammon promises, and at worst, we are slavishly labouring on Mammon’s treadmill. And so, it does indeed require divine imagination to begin to conceive of a life liberated from its stranglehold.

The good news is that the gospel inspires prophetic imagining and vision. It makes a way for us all to break free from the power of the ‘machine’, the god called Mammon. The declaration of Christ at the cross that “It is finished” lies at the heart of the gospel. The dehumanising and predatory powers of sin, along with the accompanying forces of darkness that enslave you, me, and the whole of creation, were defeated by the holy, self-sacrificing love of Christ at Calvary. We now, as the apostle Paul says, need to reckon ourselves dead to the ‘machine’, dead to those predatory powers that seek to enslave us again, and alive to Christ. Emancipated from the tyranny of consumerism’s liturgy, individualism’s mastery, and secularism’s unbelief, we seek the peace and prosperity of our neighbourhoods, cities, and nation.

So, what does this look like in practice? This is an important question! James, in his letter, tells us that, ‘Faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.’ (James 2:17). He alludes to a new form of labour (work) inspired and reimagined by the very faith we have in the labour (work) of the crucified Christ. What I hope to do in between my articles on Mammon is suggest that there are some practices and rhythms that enable us to take a stand and resist the powerful tide of Mammon and its plundering nature.

Modern life depends on the habit of discarding things

So, ‘What is the picture of the loo seat doing at the start of this article, and what has it got to do with resisting Mammon?’ you may ask. There’s a story attached to it! We’ve had this toilet seat for a number of years. Recently, I noticed that the varnish had started to flake on the top of the seat. Often, in circumstances like this, my normal reaction would be to say that it has served us well, I’ll throw it out and get a new one. That’s not unreasonable—or is it? As you may observe from the photograph, I decided to take this oak toilet seat apart, sand off the varnish, re-varnish the seat, and put it right back from where I’d taken it. I made a deliberate choice for repair rather than replace.

This was not simply about saving money but a very small act in which I was not just resisting our ‘throwaway culture’, standing in opposition to it, and resisting the powerful tide of Mammon. In some small way, it was also answering the call of God to steward the material world. Sound bizarre or even pious? Stay with me!

The history of a ‘throwaway culture’

Discarding the old and buying the new, along with built-in obsolescence of consumer goods, has been a cornerstone of developed economies for over a century. In his book Made to Break, the American historian Giles Slade suggests that 1923 was the year when manufacturers began to create a cycle of obsolescence and replacement as the mainstay of their growth strategy. Companies’ success in the previous century had been sought by building a reputation to produce durable and repairable products. Many manufacturers’ designs tended to reflect an ethic of stewardship. It was this ethic that guided Henry Ford in the development of his famous car, the Model T. He aimed to build a car affordable to the masses, engineered for years of use and easy to fix. His idea caught the imagination of Americans everywhere. By 1920, 55% of families owned a Tin Lizzie. Later, he was reported to have said his aim was to build a car that was ‘so strong and well-made that no one ought ever to have to buy a second one.’ Oh, how things have changed!

His competitor Alfred P. Sloan of General Motors had different ideas; he saw an opening in the market and took inspiration from the world of fashion. He trialled bringing out new car models each year, often just changing the shape or colour, so that the fashion-conscious could acquire their newest model of Chevrolet. His associate Harley J. Earl was frank and open about their intention: ‘Our big job is to hasten obsolescence’. In 1934, the average car ownership span was 5 years; now [1955] it is 2 years. ‘When it is 1 year, we will have the perfect score.’ It worked! GM became the world’s largest car manufacturer. Slade suggests that ‘Deliberate obsolescence in all its forms—technological, psychological, or planned—is a uniquely American invention.’

Soon, psychological obsolescence became the primary means of growing businesses. As the development of branding, packaging, and marketing became more sophisticated, this fuelled the growing throwaway culture as consumers increasingly made choices based more on trend than technical reliability. Slade remarks: ‘In manufacturing terms, psychological obsolescence was superior to technical obsolescence, because it was cheaper to create and could be produced on demand.’ Over the last century, the principle of designing in obsolescence in all its forms and speeding up the replacement cycle has become an immutable part of the manufacture and sale of goods around the globe.

Mammon and the material world

We’ve all fallen under the spell of the Mammonic Machine to a greater or lesser extent. Our collective ambitions for new, bigger, better, and ‘more for less’ come at a cost. The environmental impact of vast quantities of waste, some of it toxic, that are the result of our acceptance of obsolescence and disposal in favour of acquisition and consumption, are staring us in the face. These, according to the late Pope Francis’s 2015 Encyclical Laudato si’, are the symptoms of a ‘throwaway culture’—and he doesn’t mince his words! He writes: ‘The earth, our home, is beginning to look more and more like an immense pile of filth’. He addressed the many ways the ‘throwaway culture’, a by-product of an industrialised technological society, impacts the environment. More than this, he used the term as a metaphor for our broken relationships, including that of the natural world itself— ‘our common home’—and it as a symbol of the disposability of people, those he called ‘excluded’.

I believe that the architecture of both our individual and common life is profoundly misshapen in the hands of an alternative potter—Mammon. As the grip of commodification, commercialisation, and financialisation becomes even tighter, our four primary human relationships take on a different form and nature. Pope Francis makes this point too (although he talks of three relationships rather than four) when he writes:

[H]uman life is grounded in three fundamental and closely intertwined relationships: with God, with our neighbour and with earth itself. According to the Bible, these three vital relationships have been broken, both outwardly and inwardly.

Mammon’s powers to commodify, commercialise, and financialise radically change our relationship with the material world. In the process, we have exchanged communion—right relationship with the material world—that could be described as stewarding and guarding, for commodity—a wrong relationship with the material world—resulting in exploitation and profiteering.

God and the material world

I grew up as a new believer in the late 70s when evangelicalism had been intoxicated by an escapist eschatology popularised by books and novels like Hal Lindsey’s Late Great Planet Earth (The Left Behind series written by Tim LaHaye and Jerry B. Jenkins trod a similar path from the mid-90s). Most of us young believers lived in fear of The Day of the Lord. We were told stars were literally going to fall from the sky, the evil and corrupted earth would be consigned to some kind of cosmic dustbin, eventually to be replaced by a new one—a better model! Alfred P. Sloan of General Motors would like the sound of this eschatology! The gospel’s power was ring-fenced to the repair and renewal of a single relationship—that of ‘mine’ with God.

As I have written before, I now believe this to be a highly individualised and extremely narrow lens through which to comprehend the work and ways of Christ. Jesus’ death and resurrection signify not just His triumph over ‘my’ ‘sin’ but much, much more. He wins the battle over the powers of darkness and ultimately the power of death, both of which are at work in creation as a whole. This is captured in the famous ‘Gospel verse’ in John’s gospel: ‘For God so loved the world (Greek word: cosmos) that he gave His own Son…’ (John 3:16). Of course, it’s good news for every one of us that believes, but the significance of this world-loving act is registered cosmically. Jesus labours to make a way for the repair and renewal of all things.

A new relationship—with creation.

Tom Wright suggests in his epic book Surprised by Hope that the scene set out in Revelation chapters 21 and 22 presents the greatest images of cosmic renewal in the whole Bible. This is imagery that uses the relational metaphor of marriage. The new Jerusalem comes down out of heaven adorned like a bride for her husband. It plainly reverses the trajectory I was taught in my early years as a Christian—of a disembodied ascent to heaven to await with fear and trembling a type of judgement that also included the disposal of the once-good creation. Wright points out: ‘This [Revelation 21 & 22] is the ultimate rejection of all types of Gnosticism, of every worldview that sees the final goal as the separation of the world from God, of the physical from the spiritual, of earth from heaven’.

‘Behold, I am making all things new…’ (Revelation 21:5)

This promise offers hope and a vision of a restored and renewed creation—not a redundant old creation that requires replacement. It signifies a future where all things will be made new and free from the old, imperfect order. God will abolish death and decay forever. Heaven and earth are not poles apart needing to be separated—no, they are made for each other. It speaks of the restoration, renewal, and repair of all things.

Saying no to a ‘throwaway’ culture

So, back to my earlier question: what does this look like in practice? If the ultimate climax of the Gospel is not the destruction of the material world but its repair, then we are called to live in the light of this message. Perhaps we can resist Mammon and its accompanying throwaway culture by embodying a culture of stewardship through developing the new habits of repair and re-use.

We might not have a dedicated space, the tools, or the skills to repair our own stuff! There is, however, a growing network of grassroots organisations that are fostering a repair and re-use culture. Here are just two:

iFixit is both an online resource for those wanting to repair rather than replace or recycle consumer goods. They also have a growing network of repair shops. This grassroots initiative’s manifesto, among other things, suggests that repair connects people with things and makes consumers into contributors.

Repair Cafés have over 3,500 sites all over Europe, including the UK. They are free meeting places, and they’re all about repairing things (together). In the place where a Repair Café is located, they offer tools and materials to help you make any repairs you need for clothes, furniture, electrical appliances, bicycles, crockery, toys, etc. You’ll often also find expert volunteers with repair skills in all kinds of fields.

We may not all be able to fix a toaster or sew a torn sleeve, but we can all choose to value what we have, honour the work of others, and resist the tide of waste. In doing so, we not only care for creation—we reclaim our humanity. The culture of repair is not just about things; it’s about people, relationships, and the world we long to see healed.

In a world shaped by disposability and driven by Mammon, choosing repair over replacement is a quiet act of resistance—and a bold act of hope. Each time we mend what is broken, we participate in the divine work of renewal. Let us be people who imagine differently, live prophetically, and steward faithfully. The culture of repair begins with us.

God or Mammon – Introduction

I have known Adrian for some 20 or so years, and he and Marion have given me hospitality on different occasions. Humble, smart and always wishing to be authentic. He recently posted on SubStack this article that he gave me permission to re-post here. The link at SubStack (which also gives a link there to follow his posts) is:

https://open.substack.com/pub/adrianslowedown/p/god-or-mammon-introduction?r=8d2x8&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcomeOnShare=true


God or Mammon – Introduction

This is the first in a series of essays exploring the how the architecture of our existence is shaped either by God or Mammon.

In 2005, I resigned from my position as a senior manager at one of the country’s leading retailers to take on the role of lead pastor at my local church. I had worked for Marks and Spencer for nearly 30 years, was 45 years old, and had felt called to serve in paid ministry since the age of 18. Now, one of my dreams was finally being fulfilled. In my mind, I was leaving the relentless, cutthroat commercial world to serve God and His people!

Looking back, in my naivety, I had failed to fully comprehend that the free-market ideology underpinning the cutthroat commercial world I had left behind held no respect for the imagined boundaries I believed existed between the sacred and the secular—the church and the world. As time went on, it became clear that the lifeblood of “buying and selling” coursed deeply through the veins of the many different forms of church. In truth, much of what I had thought of as “church”—local, national, and global—seemed gripped by the forces of commodity, commerce, and consumerism. Beneath the jargonized spirituality lay the acquisitiveness of the shopper and the shop, the client and the service provider!

Of course, it became starkly apparent that I hadn’t escaped its talons either. While taking some time out on retreat, ten years into my newfound ministry, it dawned on me that in many ways, I had remained a “shopkeeper,” focused on keeping my “customers” happy. I felt as though I was struggling to breathe under the mounting pressure to lead people into ever-new and greener pastures. During this time, I came to realize that the treadmill was less a material reality than an existential one—it lived within me, providing an overarching narrative that governed and judged not only my ministry but my life as well. Anxiety and fear gnawed at my calling, leaving me to wonder whether, as a shepherd of the flock, I could ever truly satiate the deep longing of those I led.

By the grace of God, while on retreat, I came across John chapter 6 and the story of Jesus’ challenge to Philip to feed the five thousand. “‘…He said to him, ‘Where shall we buy bread for these people to eat?’ He asked this only to test him…” (John 6:5-6). In short, Philip’s conclusion is that, however long he laboured (on the treadmill), he could never satiate the appetite of those who had gathered. You know the rest of the story! Jesus goes on to describe himself as the bread that comes down from heaven—sustenance and satisfaction without human labour and free from the notion of buying and selling.

My eyes were opened. To use the Apostle Paul’s words, my struggle was not merely with flesh and blood, but with principalities and powers that sought to govern, regulate, and codify not only my life but also the very essence of what it means to be human. A friend refers to these as “the faceless powers that seek to control and influence us.” I wonder—can we put a name to any of these faceless powers? I believe we can!

‘In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.’

Genesis chapter one, verse one, furnishes us, its readers, not just with an account of a God whose creative genius is of cosmic proportions, but also bequeaths us a vision of who God is. Yahweh, by nature, transcends the dark, chaotic mass of the material world and is revealed as the architect of a different reality—a bringer of light where there was darkness and order where there was chaos. His work is to create an architecture for existence—an environment that enables us as humans, God’s image-bearers, to flourish.

Everything has a beginning; all that was created had a starting point, an origin, and Yahweh is that person. The meta-narrative of the creation story teaches us that everything that exists has its origin in something or someone that transcends the material world. It is the transcendent that illuminates our way, brings order to our chaos, and gives shape, form, and meaning to our lives. To use the apostle Paul’s words, the world “in which we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28) finds its structure, definition, and purpose in the story of whichever ‘god’ we serve. The narrative of the Bible is that the very architecture of existence—what it means to be human and ‘do life’—is founded in the person of God.

Yahweh, the God of the creation narrative, is by His very nature a relational being. He is the Triune God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Therefore, it is no surprise that the four primary pillars that support the perfect environment for human flourishing, that is for our living, moving, and having our being, are central in the creation story and that all are relational. First and foremost, though not standing in isolation from the other pillars, is our relationship with the transcendent—with God. Secondly, our relationship with ourselves—knowing myself. Thirdly, knowing one another—we are sociological beings. And finally, our relationship with the earth, the planet, the world, with which we have been entrusted. In the creation story, God constitutes reality by giving His order, shape, and purpose in and through relationships.

If, as it seems to me Paul suggests when he confronts Athenian idolatry, our living, moving, and being find their origin in the ‘god’ that we worship and serve, then it follows that both our individual lives and our collective life can be ordered, shaped, and empowered by ‘another god.’

Which brings us to the words of Jesus:

“No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and Mammon.” (Matthew 6:24)

Jesus’ words are profound, clear, and indisputable. We are faced with an ‘either or’ decision. There are two ‘gods,’ two voices that transcend our material world and potentially give purpose, structure, and definition both to our individual and collective ‘living, moving, and being.’ They configure the very framework [PF1] of our collective human existence. Unsurprisingly, they are described relationally, using the terms of love and devotion, and thus it is that both compete for our affection. Ultimately, there are just two ways the world can be ordered. There are just two masters calling for humankind’s fidelity. Humanity must elect to serve God or Mammon. By implication, our collective decision will have a radical impact on the four relational pillars of creation that we talked about earlier. How I understand and relate to myself, how I relate to my neighbour, and how I relate to the world in which I live—these relationships, which have been critical to human flourishing from the beginning, take their form from our worship. These are two opposing kingdoms, and each has an ideological and theological framework that dictates the structure—the architecture—of human existence. The altar at which we sacrifice delineates the architecture of our collective life.

After all, Jesus teaches us that the dwelling-place of God, heaven, is not an ‘otherworldly’ destination, an upward trajectory, or a future disembodied reality. Quite the opposite: it’s a downward trajectory, from heaven to earth. Not only does Jesus teach His disciples to pray, ‘Thy Kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven,’ but the apostle John also sees a ‘Holy City…coming down out of heaven.’ Both suggest that heaven’s design must affect the earth’s architecture. So, in His declaration, “You cannot serve God and Mammon,” “No one can serve two masters,” Jesus is suggesting that there are two principal ways in which life in the ‘here and now’ is ordered. There’s the order of God, heaven’s architecture, or alternatively, the world is organized and codified by an alternative transcendent personality, another ‘god.’ Just perhaps, there’s another potential superpower called ‘Mammon,’ enticing humankind into a relationship, ultimately demanding its own code of sacrificial devotion. When Jesus talks about Mammon, it seems to me He’s not merely referring to money—pounds and pence, dollars and dimes. I want to suggest He’s talking about a global social and cultural architecture, an ideology, and its power to systematically control us and the rest of creation – the four pillars of our shared life. This is a ‘god’ that not only exerts its power in shaping an economic vision—which, of course, controls us—but more than that, ‘Mammon’ fundamentally shapes human relationships. This other ‘god,’ like all ‘other gods,’ is by its very nature formational; its character is discipling. It configures our ecological, sociological, and psychological relationships—how we relate to the planet, the people around us, and perhaps most critically, it shapes our identity—our ‘self.’

This ‘either or’ that Jesus articulates is nothing new. There are a great number of Old Testament texts that allude to the need for a life-defining ‘either or’ decision. I’ll mention just three.

First, Moses in Ancient Israel. In the Sinai covenant, the practice of which finds its outworking in the book of Deuteronomy, Moses articulates a clear and decisive ‘either or’ that ancient Israel was faced with. The Ten Commandments call Israel to covenantal fidelity and the loving of their neighbour as self (Exodus 20:1-7). This text is part of the re-imaging of life post-Israel’s emancipation from Pharaoh’s predatory social, economic, and spiritual system in which they had been held captive in Egypt for over 400 years. In the passage, Moses seeks to fend off the “Canaanite” alternative that eventually seduced Israel away from their covenantal fidelity. The term “Canaanite” used in this context is not a reference to ethnicity but alludes to spiritual and socioeconomic [PF2] practices that dehumanize life by the process of commodification, turning neighbours into greedy competitors. They risk a return to the slavery they had been liberated from. Moses identifies the way of the covenant or the “Canaanite” alternative as an ‘either or,’ a “life or death” decision.

See, I have set before you today life and prosperity, death and adversity. If you obey the commandments of the Lord your God that I am commanding you today, by loving the Lord your God, walking in his ways, and observing his commandments, decrees, and ordinances, then you shall live and become numerous, and the Lord your God will bless you in the land that you are entering to possess. But if your heart turns away and you do not hear, but are led astray to bow down to other gods and serve them, I declare to you today that you shall perish; you shall not live long in the land that you are crossing the Jordan to enter and possess. I call heaven and earth to witness against you today that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life so that you and your descendants may live, loving the Lord your God, obeying him, and holding fast to him; for that means life to you and length of days, so that you may live in the land that the Lord swore to give to your ancestors, to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob (Deuteronomy 30:15-20).

Moses makes this emphatic declaration because the “Canaanite” alternative appears to offer a life of ease, comfort, and security, when in truth its power is dehumanizing. Eventually, self, neighbour, community, and creation will fall prey to its destructive power.

Secondly, when, finally, Israel is settled in the land of promise, Joshua leads Israel in yet another ‘either or’ decision. He assembles Israel for a critical covenant-making ceremony where he presents his ‘either or,’ exhorting Israel to choose Yahweh, the God of life, and reject all alternatives. ‘Choose this day whom you will serve.’

Now, therefore, revere the Lord and serve him in sincerity and in faithfulness; put away the gods that your ancestors served beyond the River and in Egypt, and serve the Lord. Now if you are unwilling to serve the Lord, choose this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your ancestors served in the region beyond the River or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you are living; but as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord (Joshua 24:14-15).

And finally, one more example of an Old Testament text that echoes the words of Jesus as He talks about the ‘either or’ of God and Mammon—the prophetic contest on Mt. Carmel. This is where Elijah assembles Israel to hear yet another dramatic ‘either or’ when he says:

How long will you go on limping with two different opinions? If the Lord is God, follow him; but if Baal, then follow him. (1 Kings 18:21).

Elijah tells Israel they can’t have it both ways, saying it’s not possible to be faithful worshipers of God while assimilating the way’s of Ball, the god who embodies the world of commodity, productivity, and profit. They have to decide: who will they serve, God or Baal (Mammon)?

As we have already seen, Jesus stands in the same covenantal tradition as His forbears as He exhorts His listeners, including us, to make a similar ‘either or’ decision. In Christ, we too now stand in that same covenantal tradition and are being challenged to make a similar choice, ‘choose this day whom you will serve,’. And like in the day of Moses or Joshua, it’s a life-or-death decision. Who will we allow to give purpose, structure, and definition to our lives, both individually and collectively?

I am convinced that it is the spirit of Mammon that empowers postmodern capitalism’s ‘Machine’ [PF3] and fuels materialism and consumerism, creating a paradigm of reality defined by ‘things.’ Our consumer culture is driven by the myth of secularism—the idea that there is nothing more than stuff, that you are just stuff, so grab all the stuff you can before you die. This is the ‘god’ of commodification, and it is inherently dehumanizing. Mammon also ignites an obsession with progress—progress at all and any cost. Value is measured by productivity; we become monstrously performance-driven, and our worth is calculated based on outcomes. All this results in us all wanting more for less. This is a world order where accumulation is the goal, economic viability is the wise arbiter, people are assets or products, what they can do is more important than who they are, and so human beings become human doings. Mammon is the ‘god’ behind the ‘Machine’ and the author of objectification, disavowing us of our humanity by exchanging human dignity for utilitarian value. Under Mammon’s tyrannical reign, we humans are progressively dehumanized. As God’s image-bearers, we are demeaned, His image is diminished, and we struggle to flourish.

Mammon is more than an ideology; it’s theological. It assumes a transcendent status and is more akin to religion. The ‘Machine’ is a ‘god’ who doesn’t just require mental assent to a political or cultural idea but insists on soulish devotion and fidelity, often demanding sacrifice from followers enticed into servitude and spellbound by its promise of progress, anticipating the next breakthrough.

In this next series of essays, I am going to attempt to explore our contemporary culture’s social, economic, and spiritual enslavement to the tyrannical rule of Mammon. I aim to uncover the methodology of the dehumanizing stealth ‘Machine’ and how it has systematically degraded our vision of what it means to be fully human. I also hope to show that we are not without hope! The story of God, which culminates in the birth, life, death, resurrection and intercession of the God-man Jesus, makes the claim that it’s possible to make an Exodus from the tyrannical rule and enslavement to the powers of Mammon. And so, I also hope that we’ll unearth some of the ways the Gospel liberates us from the treadmill of the Machine.

I must say, I remain ever grateful for the gift of Walter Brueggemann. If you can be discipled by reading, he is my Rabbi. I am also deeply appreciative of the insightful, timely and prophetic perspectives of Paul Kingsnorth. Both Walter and Paul have been a source of inspiration for my writing.

Influence, convert or no hope?

Larry Fink, the ‘most powerful person in Wall Street’ was recently in Spain and here are a few excerpts from the interview… But first, who is Larry Fink, I hear. He is the CEO of BlackRock, the largest money management firm in the world. If BlackRock were a country it would be the third largest economy on the planet – behind USA and China. Here then are a few quotes from the interview:

With respect to investments:

It’s a zero sum game. For some to win, others must lose (emphasis added).

I believe everything BlackRock does is sell hope.

Hope for who? Hope for what?

In the recent collapse of FTX (crypto exchange) BlackRock lost $18million. How did Fink respond to that?

We lost $18 million, which in the context of $9 trillion assets under management, was nothing.

It was nothing! And underlying the reply of course is that the only measurement worth using is that of money.

The value system is out there. Money, so-called wealth, over people. The flow has to be one way, some will lose (‘others’ – the majority?). Meanwhile, the Galilean peasant from the first Century hands the money to the thief; talks of a new era of hope for the poor. The flow for BlackRock mirrors what John saw on the isle of Patmos as he watched the boats head for Rome with their 28 cargoes inside, those cargoes including ‘human souls’. And then in a subversive way John drops into the narrative that the Lamb (appearing 7 times) is given for the four-fold description for humanity (7×4).

A big question – hence the title. Can BlackRock (and all like it) be influenced to move toward something more redemptive – by which I do not mean something perfect; can those such as Larry Fink be ‘converted’ in the sense of toward kingdom values; or is the whole system beyond hope – and if so when does the call to ‘come out of her my people’ need to be shouted?

No answers here from this person… the questions remain.

Thoughts that can hurt the head!!

The big subject of... money

Money and how we respond? Kingdom economics? I only have a few thoughts on this and have no way grasped where we need to go when we think about ‘transformation’. Inequalities are obvious and I am not a non-contributor to the inequality equation (double negative really means I am a contributor, but that has too much of an ‘ouch’ in it).

‘How much is too much?’ does not seem to be a question that the Scriptures directly answers; Jesus himself (the one who said ‘blessed are the poor’) accepted the beyond-extravagant outpouring (waste?) of perfume that cost a year’s income. Let’s start then with what is written for us:

As for the rich in this present age, charge them not to be haughty, nor to set their hopes on the uncertainty of riches, but on God, who richly provides us with everything to enjoy. They are to do good, to be rich in good works, to be generous and ready to share, thus storing up treasure for themselves as a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of that which is truly life (1 Timothy 6:17-19).

A few good practical reminders as to what is truly of value. Maybe if we were to simply quote texts we could add the warnings that are given to the wealthy, the deceit of riches, and the instruction to the rich young ruler to sell everything. It seems wealth is surrounded in signs indicating that there are unexploded mines in that territory so tread carefully.

Although the original sin is not as simple as a critique on what we term ‘consumerism’ the language of ‘I saw, I wanted, I consumed’ indicates that consumerism buys right into that original sin, and if we add the oft-repeated warning against trespassing boundaries in the OT, so that we take what is not ours and denies the opportunity for others to have what was theirs / their share, we can understand the critique of unjust trade, such as we read concerning the king of Tyre or throughout the book of Revelation. Not surprising that the mark of the beast concerns being allowed to buy and to sell.

[I consider that animals in creation speak of that which humanity was to name and symbolically represented organised humanity such as we read of with regard to nations. The beasts (wild animals) were those structures that were not tamed – those organised set-ups that were imperial in spirit, that simply wanted a name for their own glory, etc. Jesus, in the wilderness, brought them even to a subdued place – only possible as the three BIG temptations were resisted: the false economic, political and religious temptations.]

If consumerism in all its forms is what dehumanises, then the opposite seems to me to be contentment. On this there are numerous Scriptures suggesting that is the ‘bag’ that we need to carry all our ‘things’ in:

Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me (Philippians 4:11-13).

And he said to them, “Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions” (Luke 12:15).

Now there is great gain in godliness with contentment, for we brought nothing into the world, and we cannot take anything out of the world. But if we have food and clothing, with these we will be content (1 Timothy 6:6-8).

Keep your life free from love of money, and be content with what you have, for he has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you” (Hebrews 13:5).

This is not a natural process, Paul says he had to learn to be content. I guess that is pretty much life-long.

We are within the world; we are shaped by what is around us; we cannot be ‘pure’… our feet get dirty… but internal attitudes must be the starting point and then from there make some personal decisions. The woman with her two coins might have done so without any knowledge of what would result, but we have the story. With the story we can act by faith… I like that word ‘faith’… not with knowledge… but having sought to hear God and to make a response – maybe not the right response, but a ‘faith’ response, even a tentative faith response.

We can look at what we have lost, maybe through our own stupidity, but I am not sure that a financial adviser would come to Jesus and use very complimentary words when he found out that the thief was the accountant who could act in a way that exploited the loop holes. (It might be worth pondering if those who govern nations but exploit all kinds of loop holes are the equivalent?) Can what we have lost be redeemed… not into our pockets but into true wealth?

How can we push back against the buying and selling with at least some measure of giving and receiving?

And sow where we want the world to go… Maybe we cannot do it completely, but simple questions such as do I want to put resources into some pension pot that invests into what is profitable (I guess in the current scenario, weapons and arms).

Maybe small partnerships that explore alternatives? Small never changes everything… but maybe starts a movement, and by movement I do not mean simply a practical alternative, after all Jesus did not say you cannot serve money and God, he pushed us to another level – mammon.

A Taster

Been a while since I have posted here. I have been writing… Just completed the fourth of a proposed six-series set of book(lets). Below is the opening paragraphs, followed by the closing paragraphs, from the third volume and a chapter entitled, ‘A necessary chapter’. This volume seeks to engage with some practical areas of society, so the first chapter was on the Arts, others are on Health and Education, Business (as Unusual) and the Media.


A chapter on the arts was a nice gentle way to highlight how any communication needs more than words to bring about change. In that chapter I said that art has often been commodified, becoming the collector’s piece, sometimes because of a deep appreciation of the art but often because of the perceived investment value. One piece bought for monetary reasons while other artists, who put their heart and soul into something (not to mention many hours), cannot make a living from their gift to society. It leads me to this chapter, a necessary one, on money, work and value.
The archaeologists report that between the 10th and the 8th century BC there were many economic changes in the land of Israel. Over those two centuries a huge discrepancy grows between the size of houses. We might view it that prosperity abounded and that this was evidence as to how God had blessed, but the 8th century prophets viewed it very differently. This is the rise of the critical voices of the prophets who connected social inequality to a faithlessness to the covenant. A poignant example is in Amos 4:1-4,

Hear this word, you cows of Bashan on Mount Samaria,
you women who oppress the poor and crush the needy
and say to your husbands, “Bring us some drinks!”
The Sovereign Lord has sworn by his holiness:
“The time will surely come
when you will be taken away with hooks,
the last of you with fishhooks.
You will each go straight out
through breaches in the wall,
and you will be cast out toward Harmon,”
declares the Lord.
Go to Bethel and sin;
go to Gilgal and sin yet more.
Bring your sacrifices every morning,
your tithes every three years.

Continuing to tithe and sacrifice in the appointed way was exposed as a farce as there was no justice, no semblance of an egalitarian society. In the life of Israel the law stipulated an intentional levelling through the system of Sabbath, the seventh year Sabbath and a radical Jubilee every fiftieth year when there was a reboot to the whole of society.

Before wading in to some of these major issues a gentle proviso that I will try and pick up in a later chapter. The gentle proviso is, ‘but we have to be practical.’ Agreed! We are not looking for something that is perfect for we wait for the day ‘when the perfect comes’; we live in a fallen world and in that world we have to learn how to compromise. The compromises that we are to be involved in though are to be redemptive. Redemption does not bring us to perfection in the immediate but re-aligns us so that there is a before and an after, so that we are not left the same, and the after is better than the before. Jesus quoted the Scripture that ‘the poor you will have with you always’ (John 12:8 quoting Deut. 15: 11), and that surely is true.

However, we cannot use it as if Jesus intended us to be unmoved or inactive about inequalities. The Scripture that Jesus quoted, Deut. 15: 11 says:

There will always be poor people in the land. Therefore I command you to be openhanded toward your fellow Israelites who are poor and needy in your land.

There is a reality that there will always be those who experience poverty, and in the light of that there has to be a spirit of generosity, for such was the commandment God gave them. The wider passage exhorts us to be generous, to cancel debts, to help liberate and to truly work toward the goal of eradicating poverty.

The gospel sets out the eschatological focus, and then deals with the present in both real and redemptive terms. It does not call us to live with a utopian vision, nor does it allow us to be passive. The ekklesia is present in the world to bring about change, and we are in a world that is all-but a runaway train hellbent on destruction. The original sin of consumerism, of moving boundaries for personal gain has to be addressed. This chapter is focused on money (or maybe better put as Mammon), but it could equally address the ecological crisis which is yet another sign that we have, as a race, been consistently moving boundary markers for personal gain.

………

The age to come, the one we are preparing for, and the one that we are preparing the materials for, will not be an age when there will be segregation along financial lines. Yet this age has increasingly sown into that financial divide. In closing this chapter, one that had to be written, let me simply ask how we should best sow into that glorious future. If I am privileged to own my own house should I pursue an even bigger stake in bricks and mortar? Should I look to store up more for myself with a pension scheme that will only increase the money distortions of society? Should I look to leave money to my descendants so that they might have the potential of moving further up the scale than I was able to?

Hard questions? Or looking at the reality that there is an age to come and how should we live in that light of that?

What remains clear is the concept of simply encouraging believers to rise to the top 3% of the mountain of influence without any critique of the existence of the ‘mountain’, could indeed release an influence, but the influence might not be an influence for the kingdom. The mountain remaining is not a signpost of the age to come.

We do not live in a perfect world and we await the age to come. While living in the in-between time, while we inhabit this imperfect world, we have to make compromises, yet we cannot simply compromise while refusing to look at the issues that pollute our world. Mammon and consumerism have been here since the beginning, but will not be here at the end. We live in between those two points. If we allow ourselves to be dragged back then, for sure, we are not of those who are contributing to the transformation of this world, and the preparation of the next.

Have I lost God?

Too easily done

I’ve never (as far as my memory stretches) lost god. Now the former sentence is not a typo with the small ‘g’. I understand what is meant by the question ‘Is Jesus God?’, but at a very real level because of Jesus we can’t ask that question. The problem with the question it presupposes we know who God is then can decide if Jesus matches up. There is God… then there is ‘god’. My god looks a little like God but on the days I lose perspective looks a little less like God than I would like to believe.

Two days ago Gayle and I had a very refreshing zoom call to a couple of guys who have made, and are continuing to make, an incredible transition in an institution that could have so easily become irrelevant to today’s world. During the conversation I realised how far away from God I had travelled and how focused I was on god.

There was no financial crisis in 2008. The market soared back and the gap between the incredibly wealthy and the ‘others’ increased dramatically. There was no financial crisis – at least not for a great number of those who were very well off prior to the ‘crisis’. Of course there was a huge crisis for many.

Here we are now at the early stages of the signs that are pointing to a global reality yet to come, and this is the context where I lost God. I was particularly pee’d off by the huge increase of money into the personal and corporate account of Amazon. (Not saying he and they are the most guilty – I just happen to know some of the figures as they are public.) I realised I went through days of internal groaning with little else on my mind, swinging between, ‘how do we pray judgement?’ and ‘if I am responsible what do I need to do?’

However… I now realise that quoting Scripture is great. Luke 3, a kind of pattern in these last 20 years, ‘In the fifteenth year of the Emperor Tiberius… the word of the Lord came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness.’

How many times have I said – God does not replace Tiberius with a born again, nor even a ‘Christian friendly’ Caesar, if we look for a ‘Christian friendly person in the White House, Number 10, Moncloa, or wherever we will not be deceived we will simply reveal we have already been deceived…’ A lot of blah, blah, blah there.

So? Well I realised I have been focused on god doing something with Amazon, the big corporations that can hold nations at bay, that can decide how much (much = how little) tax they will pay. So working hard on a current translation of Luke 3 I came up with:

In the years of global crisis that began to be noted in 2020, when the big corporations who had grown to immense levels, many more powerful than nations, when they had developed without shame into huge people-eating machines, Martin looked to god to sort it all out, as he knew that it had gone too far. Meanwhile in those years God was looking to a whole bunch of unimportant people to live differently. In those years it left Martin with a choice. Would he try to align with God or would his own personal god become ever so much bigger? The years that followed would tell a tale.

A re-set coming?

I made the mistake this morning of reading an aspect of what is taking place in the midst of this crisis. Tough when you have to look facts in the eye.

I read how the world’s richest person is some $5.5bn richer today than he was at the beginning of the year. We all know his company as being the supplier of books and all good things, while many of his employees will tell stories of their appalling work conditions. He also made a nice ‘generous’ donation into the current crisis. Money is only money but the Scriptures are so strong on their critique of the accumulation of the ‘m’ word.

The Sabbath re-set was in-built to the way of life. Weekly, 7-yearly and 50th year Sabbaths, although not always implemented were set in place to help facilitate a healthy society. Translating that from an ancient agrarian economy to our Western society would indeed be very challenging and shocking. A 50 year jubilee would probably come out as a 2 year cycle. Scripture is ‘stupidly’ radical.

I was glad to read the article though as it leaves me with the ongoing challenge of how do we contribute to change. We are at such a turning point in history (co-inciding with the ‘fourth turning’ in the cycles of four) and being a follower of Jesus holding to a view that our little lives have to point to a new world (and therefore a new world economy) and that how we live is the leverage point for the big picture. Yes, the ‘in’ but not ‘of’ the world scenario.

There are other articles that can be read that are using the ‘re-set’ word, that the next few weeks will hold the key to what kind of world comes through the other side of the crisis (and maybe we should be using the word ‘crises’ as this is not a health crisis alone, and not simply a financial one but something that is bringing to a sharp focus the crises of the past years – immigration, borders, globalisation vs. nationalism, ecological… and something hidden deep within it all a machoistic / misogynist culture that fights against the humanisation of one and all – hence something deeply demonic).

So many things in the balance – maybe the balanced see-saw is here now? My strong suspicion is post-this-crisis (there is a ‘post-‘?) there will be two worlds emerging. A few who make a 5.5bn increase in profits, and a majority who question where true justice is to be found. I maybe cannot make a difference to the 5.5bn group – though one of the strongest words I heard from the Lord a few weeks after moving to Spain was the challenge of learning how to ensure that world changed (a long story…) – I can though make a decision as to my direction. I just hope I am not too compromised.

Will we make a difference?

HEALTH WARNING attached!!

If what I write below is close to what is here and coming then taking heed could really unlock some health into our world and for the next generation. If we do not heed it…

I have been very exercised about some of the significant global crises that are on the horizon. For the past 3 weeks I have been seeing a very serious economic upheaval. Then a few days ago the global climate report was published with the ‘we have twelve years to address this’. It would be crazy to dismiss this report, as crazy as if I had a group of credited medics in front of me all pushing for the same diagnosis but I argued for something different, someone with no medical expertise. The only, and invalid, reason for dismissing this UN climate report would be because of the economic ramifications to the world we have created.

We have entered a window of time when the façades are opening again, so I wish to repeat a dream I had at the beginning of the decade and in the same season as another dream that seemed to indicate that it was relevant for this decade. For those who have read this before feel free to jump ahead.

I was in a town square and simply standing at one side of it.. I was observing the buildings on the other side and knew that they represented every institution that had shaped the public space as we have it today: education, health, government, business, trade, church, etc. were all present. With no prior warning and all at the same time the fronts of the buildings came froward and then up as if they were on a hinge. Anyone could look inside the buildings. My first thought was I need to warn those on the other side of the square as buildings acting like that will soon become very unstable and fall over, so I considered anyone close was in real danger. I got ready to shout my warning but soon realised that the buildings were not going to fall over. I then held my warning as I tried to work out what was going on. I felt a sense of danger but knew it was deeper than ‘get away from the buildings’. While I am contemplating what the danger was someone began quietly to sing a well-known worship song that focused on the Lordship of Jesus. There were obviously enough people in the public square with Christian faith that a second person added their voice, then a third and so on. The volume of the singing rose some, and then when it reached a certain level, all the buildings simply closed up again. I was very disturbed by what had happened and did not know what I should shout out. While pondering this, trying to get a handle on the appropriate warning I heard an audible voice that came from just behind me (I never looked left nor right but simply focused on the buildings that were across the square.) The audible voice said:

It is the familiar that restores the status quo, that brings everything back to where it was.

Now I knew the warning I needed to get across. The warning was concerning pulling on the familiar, and the shock in the dream of course was that the familiar that caused the façades to close up was the response of singing by those of faith – but familiar is familiar however we define it.

Knowing what the warning now was I cleared my throat, took a deep breath and then shouted out: ‘It is the familiar…’ I got those four words out and a person from my right side stood right in my face, eye-balling me, to intimidate me. I was determined that I would not be put off, so stepped to my left, cleared my throoat, and then once more got the first four words out and the person repeated their intimidating action. This happenned one more time, so three times this person prevented me shouting out the whole warning. I stepped aside once more and again shouted the first four words. This time the person finished my sentence (‘It is the familiar…’) with the words

that brings things back to normal.

Similar but such a false representation.

Given that I consider Scripture calls the body of Christ to act priestly what takes place in the public square is our responsibility. There might be a battle, it might take time for a change to come, we might well also have ‘failures’ as we engage, but the point is we have to step up to our responsibility. We cannot control what happens there, but through our positioning in the world and our petitioning to heaven we can shift the spiritual atmosphere and create boundaries so that there is an opportunity for the growth of righteousness. In the light of that it is not surprising that in the dream it was the response of believers that short-circuited what was happening in the public square. There is evidently a time to sing, and there is a time not to. I say this as I am convinced that the façades are opening up again. We have to learn what the right response is in this season.

An aside on some current reflections – with the acknowledgement they might not be the most relevant and tomorrow they might not even be relevant. Many Western nations are not willing to engage in any level of sanctions against one of the main human rights violators (Saudi Arabia) because they purchase arms from us – this is certainly true of Spain, the UK and the USA. Economics triumphs over ethics. Mammon or God, Jesus said, and although we would be naive to expect some kind of ‘Christian’ standard in a nation we do have the right to expect a level of right action, and nation after nation are putting economics before any humanitarian perspective. In a few days we are in Brazil and will be there for the final vote for the presidency. A figure who seems to have huge support from many Christians is of course pushing a strong agenda that might increase their economy but at what cost to the environment and to the marginalised? No candidate is perfect but to get behind someone because they are pro-a-number-of-moral-issues and pro boosting the economy as if they are God’s candidate is extremely naive. Maybe we can suggest at times a particular approach better accords with our beliefs but it really is time to drop the idea of a God appointed candidate or a Christian nation.

The façades are opening. It is not simply that we will be able to see the bizarre nature of the Western economic system that only operates if there is debt (debt will always result somewhere in slavery and at some measure an inevitable eating tomorrow’s bread today) or the paucity of public political debate but we will be able to see some very deep roots… unless we close our eyes to what is being revealed. The familiar can close the façades down, although I wonder if we (believers) will even be able to do that this time round. And beyond the familiar there are factors that hamper our sight. Those will be found in our commitment to a shallow Gospel that does not challenge nationalism, patriotism, patriarchy and the deep inequalities in society. If we do not heed at this time that the Gospel is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, nor male and female we will find our eyes will not even see what is before us and we will simply look for ‘normal’ to be restored.

What is being exposed in the days that lie ahead (and I am sure much more can be added to this) are:

  • greed and consumerism
  • misogyny
  • protectionism that demonises the ‘other’

The inevitable result will not just be trade wars, but war. It will not simply be a major shift to extreme right wing policies (as we see rise in Europe) but the establishing of a neo-nazi totalitarianism that will eventually be seen not be favourable to faith, including that of the Christian faith.

I suggest we have the next two years, when either a level playing field will be established or we will leave the next generation a Herculean task to bring things forward to something that resembles a God shape for society.

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