During a recent holiday in Britain, I visited a church built for a farming community in the 13th century. At the bottom of the old door was a much smaller door – a dog-door. This allowed shepherds to attend church, while their sheep dogs could come and go during a service.
What a lovely example of an ancient church that met the needs of its community.
I visited a number of places connected to the long history of Christianity in Britain. I saw examples of change, resilience and continuity, and I thought I’d tell you about some of these.
We’ll start in Cornwall, a county that contains the most westerly and most southerly points of mainland Britain.
People lived in Cornwall for thousands of years before the birth of Christ, and some of their stone structures survive to remind us of a pagan past. These include Neolithic tombs, Bronze Age standing stones and stone circles.
The Romans occupied much of Britain in the first four centuries AD, and then the Anglo-Saxons took over; Cornwall stayed remote and pagan. But in the 5th and 6th centuries, Christian missionaries arrived in Cornwall, mostly from Ireland.
The Irish missionaries brought Christianity with a very Celtic flavour, quite different to the Roman church later introduced in the east of Britain.
Celtic Christianity tended to focus on simplicity and God in community, rather than structured services and church hierarchy. The early missionaries modelled the Christian life by example – they brought the good news of Jesus, and gave credibility to their words through their deeds. Christianity didn’t always go down well of course, and many missionaries were killed.
With no central organisation as such, missionaries were able to do what seemed right for the place they ended up at. For many this meant fitting Christianity in beside existing beliefs.
To pagans, springs of water were special places, places of healing and links to a spiritual realm. Near the modern city of Penzance, one missionary set himself up beside a pagan spring. He taught, healed and baptised in the name of Jesus, and got a reputation as Saint Madron. Even after his death, pilgrims came to the spring for healing.
A chapel was built in the 12th century in memory of the saint. It’s ruined now, but I found fresh flowers on the altar that showed it hasn’t been forgotten. Ribbons tied in the trees by the spring, representing recent supplications, suggest that the pagan past still lingers, side by side with Christianity. Anyone today who tosses a coin into water and makes a wish is also echoing an ancient pagan practice.
There are dozens of such places throughout Cornwall. One, dedicated to St Ruan, still attracts pilgrims, and water from the spring is still used in a nearby church for baptisms.
These places reminded me of the way modern missionaries, like those from Arotahi we focused on last month, tend to work alongside non-Christians in their own situations.
I’d have missed the track to St Madron’s chapel if it wasn’t for a stone marker cross erected in the 12th century, at the same time as the chapel. There are more wayside crosses like this in Cornwall than anywhere else in England.
The story of the Boskenna Cross, near Land’s End, is a wonderful example of Christian continuity and survival. Originally erected in the 12th century on a tall pillar, this cross (like many others) was smashed in the 1500s. This was the time of the Reformation, when Protestants separated from the Catholic church, and saw it as their duty to destroy graven images in churches all over Britain. The head of the Boskenna cross was rediscovered in a ditch in 1869, and re-erected using an old stone farm roller for the pillar. Despite being hit by motor vehicles, a few times, this cross still marks an easy-to-miss road to the local church.
Not all missionaries set up by springs. Some established themselves at other popular gathering places. They erected a simple living hut, often with a stone cross to mark the spot. However, the mid-7th century saw a turning point in English Christianity, when it was decided that the church of Rome would replace Celtic practices. In Cornwall this resulted in the building of churches, a hierarchy of priests and a restricted access to God. In the Celtic church, all money had been used for the poor. In the church that took over, the pope ordered that of all money donated, a quarter went to the bishops, a quarter to the clergy, a quarter to hospitality and a quarter to the poor. No wonder that the old ways were not easily abandoned, and many of the old stone crosses survived next to the new churches.
We’re going to leap forward now, missing out centuries of ups and downs in British Christianity, to land in the 18th century. At this time, many Christians weren’t happy with the state of the established church, and were drifting away.
Over 27 years in the late 1700s, John Wesley and his brother Charles, founders of Methodism, often visited Cornwall. They encouraged people to get out of their churches and take individual responsibility for being Christ in their communities. Because of the numbers of people attending meetings, the Wesleys gave most of their sermons outside.
A favourite site, where they preached many times, was an amphitheatre called Gwennap Pit. It was formed by previous mining activity, but was ideal for the crowds of thousands the Wesleys attracted. In 1806, locals remodelled the Pit as a memorial to the Wesleys, which is what you can see at the site now. The Pit has been used for a service at least once a year from 1807 to the present, except during recent Covid lockdowns. That’s continuity.
I know some of you remember the Billy Graham rallies in New Zealand in 1959 and 1969, so you can perhaps identify with the atmosphere in the Pit.
As well as jumping in time again, we’re going to jump location too – to London.
Back in 1666, the Great Fire of London destroyed about a quarter of the city – including 87 churches and St Paul’s Cathedral. The churches were an important part of the rebuild, and architect Sir Christopher Wren and colleagues rebuilt most of them and added new ones, all within about 15 years. St Paul’s Cathedral took a bit longer!
This does suggest amazing resilience of the churches, but there was another side to the story. More than 70,000 people were made homeless by the fire, and were housed in tented camps set up in city parks. Even after the churches had been rebuilt, many people were still homeless and living in squalid conditions. Providing churches for spiritual comfort and worship before housing the homeless – you might disagree with that idea.
St Martin’s, Ludgate, just down the road from St Paul’s, is one of the few Wren churches that escaped the bombing of World War Two. Nicky and I went there to witness my brother and his wife renew their marriage vows. The meal afterwards was held in the home of the Archdeacon of London. The reason I mention this is that, in what is now the kitchen, is a plaque commemorating the fact that the Church Missionary Society, started in 1799, held its committee meetings there until 1812. William Wilberforce was a committee member. And as many of you will know, it was the CMS who sent two missionaries to New Zealand in 1814, accompanied by Samuel Marsden, the Society’s chaplain in New South Wales.
I couldn’t help thinking that Christianity in Britain has been on a long journey from its early missionary days, to sending out its own missionaries around the world. And now New Zealand sends out its own missionaries. This reminded me that some of God’s plans are very long term, and they have relied on many generations of people who have loved and trusted Him.
You’ve sat through a lot of history this morning, so it’s only fair to bring you up to date.
One London church, St James, Piccadilly, was badly damaged by bombs in 1940, but was rebuilt by 1954. The church stands between two busy central London streets, with a door opening on to each. At lunchtime people use the church as a way to get between the streets in search of food. Some might see this as a bit cheeky, but the church encourages it – in fact, the church has now become a destination, as well as a thoroughfare. Lunchtime concerts encourage people to linger. We found lunch in a courtyard full of food stalls, and had a drink in the Redemption Roasters café, staffed by ex-prisoners. There was also a quiet place offering counselling. On the spiritual side, services range from Sunday traditional to those during the week that suit people who like to worship through music, dance or quiet.
This seems to be a church that is a vibrant part of its community, responding to practical needs. It is one of many, and it left me with a real sense of optimism.
That was shaken a couple of weeks ago, when I read a short piece from an English newspaper, published in our own Post. This is how it started:
“England’s established church is in deep trouble. An investigation by The Telegraph has revealed that almost 300 Anglican parishes have disappeared in the last five years. In less than 30 years the Church of England has lost more than half its regular worshippers. Attendance now stands at barely over 500,000.”
Here in New Zealand, over the last 20 years the national census has recorded a large drop in people recorded as Christian.
But we’ve just seen that, over a long time span, Christianity and individual churches experience ups and downs, large and small. Some churches survive, others don’t. So what makes a church resilient in troubling times?
The Bible gives us some clues.
Acts 9:31 tells us that, despite persecution and hardship, in its very early days “The church throughout Judea, Galilee, and Samaria had a time of peace. Through the help of the Holy Spirit it was strengthened and grew in numbers, as it lived in reverence for the Lord.”
In James 1:2-3 we read “My brothers, consider yourselves fortunate when all kinds of trials come your way, for you know that when your faith succeeds in facing such trials, the result is the ability to endure.”
So resilience depends on faith – trust in God and obedience to him.
I think Tawa Baptist has the signs of being a resilient church, and I don’t just mean the earthquake strengthening.
It is resilient because of prayer. Not just praying for ourselves and others, but praying as a way of trying to discern God’s wishes for the church.
It is resilient because it invests in the future of its young people.
It is resilient because its people use their spiritual gifts, and learned skills, for the good of the church and its community.
It is resilient because of the Bible-based teaching it receives, and because it puts into action what Jesus taught.
Basically, resilience comes about when we love God, but love people as well. That’s what Jesus made it clear we must do.
At the start of the story of Jesus feeding the five thousand, Luke tells us that when the crowds followed Jesus “He welcomed them, spoke to them about the Kingdom of God, and healed those who needed it.” (Luke 9:11). He told the people the truth, then showed them the truth by meeting their needs.
Luke also tells us (in Luke 9:2) that Jesus gathered the 12 disciples together, “Then he sent them out to preach the Kingdom of God and to heal the sick.” He instructed them to tell the truth, then show the truth by serving.
Love God, but love people too. Those early missionaries in Cornwall did just that – they told people about the good news of Jesus, but they also healed and helped those in need. It’s what John Wesley preached – love God, but take responsibility for helping those in need. It’s what many modern churches do, each in their own way.
I know that Peanuts cartoons don’t have the same authority as the Bible, but I think there’s a lesson for us in this one. You really need to see the cartoon, but this description should give you the idea:
Frame 1: Snoopy is sitting outside in the snow, shivering. In the distance, Linus says to Charlie Brown “Snoopy looks kind of cold, doesn’t he?”
Frame 2: Charlie Brown replies “I’ll say he does. Maybe we’d better go over and comfort him.”
Frame 3: The two boys go up to Snoopy. “Be of good cheer, Snoopy” says one, “Yes, be of good cheer” says the other.
Frame 4: The boys walk away, and Snoopy is left shivering in the snow.
What would you have done? (apart from not talking to a dog and expecting it to understand!)
I happened to be in Britain much of the time I was thinking of the theme of Christian resilience and continuity, so I’ve used examples from there. I encourage you to think about examples from countries you are more familiar with, including New Zealand.
Questions:
What are some examples of churches in the Tawa area providing for the needs of their communities?
How do you feel about the future of Christianity in New Zealand?
What does it mean to say a church is resilient?
What does it mean to say an individual person is spiritually resilient?
Reread the list of things that may contribute to Tawa Baptist being a resilient church. What other factors are there?
How do you respond to the following statement?
‘People have different spiritual gifts – some are good at telling about Jesus, others are better at helping those in need.’
Do you think that previously pagan/non-Christian places can still have a role in modern Christian life? Why do you think that?
After a disaster like the Great Fire of London, or an earthquake in NZ say, how could you justify building churches before housing the homeless?
Tawa Baptist 