The vision is Jesus

This week saw many rural ministers, pioneers, ministry leaders and laity gather for the Love Rural conference at Bury St Edmunds, Suffolk. It was a true joy to meet so many people with a heart for rural communities, landscapes, and the ministries and churches who live, work and immerse themselves into the fabric of life there. A huge thanks to Sally Gaze and the team for organising and leading the conference, and to the cathedral staff for hosting us so effortlessly in a truly stunning, historical location.

If I’m honest, I’m still gathering my thoughts from the sessions, the teaching and the conversations from the two days. There were so many inspiring stories, ideas and testimonies about how God is moving in lives and communities around the UK.

To close off my time down at Love Rural, I attended a breakout session entitled Rural and Wild, led by Sarah Hulme and Yasmin Finch who both work for the Methodists. We used some of the resources from the Try Pilgrimage initiative, a collaboration between The Methodist Church and Hope Together (www.trypilgrimage.org.uk). After gathering as a small group, we scattered into the Abbey Gardens to walk, to pray, and to notice for a short while before reconvening at the close of the session. It was a very welcome invitation to pause, breathe and simply ‘be’ after the busyness of a conference.

The Abbey Gardens are a wonderful area in the centre of the town, gardens curated and maintained with an artist’s skill, and a space for all to come and enjoy. Whilst I don’t usually gravitate to a manicured garden environment (usually choosing a wild mountain, forest or ocean instead), it was a true balm to find beauty and silence there.

Following the invitation to notice what we noticed, I walked with slow intent, slow breath, and prayed for a discerning heart, eyes to see and ears to hear. What I began to notice was the diversity of visitors and the multitude of ways that they were each engaging with the gardens; some were reading the information boards, some looking at the flowers or chasing toddlers around the lawn; some walk slowly with a friend, lost in deep conversation; some queued for coffee, while others just passed through quickly, distracted on their way to somewhere else.

In this way the gardens are like a container space for all this individual activity, none of which could be considered right or wrong. It just is. I couldn’t escape my mind making parallels to the Church spaces we all inhabit. We had just been sitting in an ecumenical space at the conference for the past two days, despite a dominant Anglican leaning, and it was wonderful to hear the multitude of diverse ways that folks live out this thing called ‘Church’ we’ve all dedicated ourselves to. Held within this ‘Church container’, are some who are passionate about preserving its heritage, history, traditions and ceremonies; while others are so enthused and excited by breaking out of its confines, to forge new paths and ‘ways of walking the way’. Yet despite each seeking to engage with this weird and wonderful thing called Church in unique ways, that feel natural at times while also extremely uncomfortable at others, we all find ourselves held together by beautiful artistry, by a tapestry so complex only a true Master Gardener can hold the enormity of a final, glorious vision in the palm of His mighty hand.

I’m part of the 24-7 Prayer movement. Founder Pete Grieg once penned a poem called the Vision Poem (here it is performed by the incredible Joshua Luke Smith) that has become foundational to the movement. Held within it, is a declaration that is like a magnetic North for us. It is simply this - The vision is Jesus.

Does this statement underpin all that you do in your endeavours for God and Church? Is Jesus truly the vision, the impetus behind all your decisions, the lens through which you see the world? Is Jesus the Shepherd and Rabbi who you follow with every ounce of strength you have? The Christ is the one who ‘fills everything in every way’ (Ephesians), filling the spaces we curate and hold with his glorious presence, making ordinary places sacred and divine, ushering in renewal to dry and parched lands, and quenching the soul thirst of every man, woman and child to grace this earth. And yet despite His holiness, each of us are given what Pascal called ‘the dignity of causality’, we’re skilled in making things happen, and we are given a free will to choose ways to do that. Sometimes, we consecrate our skills, gifting, vision, and passion to Jesus’ purpose and love, and sometimes we head out on our own and ask Him to bless our journey or even ignore Him altogether.

But our challenge is to always return to this statement - the vision is Jesus. For all the creative ways we seek to hold a church service, with all the out-of-the-box thinking for community engagement with the message, and with all the exciting pioneering efforts we embark on, the vision is Jesus?

If he’s not, then what on earth are we doing?

In the Abbey Garden I passed an aviary. Within it I saw a variety of species of birds I won’t pretend to know about. For me, birds are the ultimate symbol of freedom in the natural world. If those who are born of the Spirit ride on the winds of the Spirit (John 3, Acts 2, Ezekiel 37), then birds beautifully show us how its done as they use wind to glide and soar on thermals as they travel over long distances. To see them caged is quite a difficult sight. They are not being free to do what they’re made to do.

When the vision is Jesus, when Jesus is given space to move freely in our lives and in our churches, missions and ministries, we might discover that it is He who is opening the door to the cage we find ourselves in. Where might that be for you today?  What holds you personally back from stepping into the freedom that is on offer with Christ? Or what might be holding your church or community or mission back from operating from this truth and stepping into a life of full freedom?

As you reflect, do you need to return to the vision of Jesus? Has the vision of programmes, or evangelism, or services, or even mission, overshadowed Jesus as the vision? What steps might you need to take in order to return?

Perhaps Jesus is your vision and has remained so for some time. What do you need to do to keep Him there? Where might you be being called to come alongside others, to bring your wisdom and clarity to others on this shared path?

Whatever the beautiful garden of Church looks like for you, may you know that a Master Gardener is curating, maintaining and envisioning a space of wonder and awe for all to experience its freedom, healing and joy.

Grace and Peace

Jon Timms

Joint CEO, Rural Ministries