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Before you ordain me for my humility, I am the biggest sceptic to acts of kindness. I become more of a sceptic when I see Christians thinking they can “change the world” by feeding the hungry, clothing the naked and caring for the sick. My default reaction is usually: ”What’s the point?” I know that Jesus talked a lot about doing these three things, but isn’t it enough that I just have any faith at all in this country which is looking to delete the bible from its shores?

At this point in my blog I usually cannot resist pampering everything up in a bid to draw you in with analogies, metaphors and a noteworthy flair. But loving the poor is one of the most stark commands the Lord Jesus gave to each of his followers for this day and age.

Awkwardly, you will find in Matthew 25 Jesus going on about it. He said: “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his throne in heavenly glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.

“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you cam to visit me.’

“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’ “The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.”

Men of Britain, there are some really decent lads on our streets who need us to step up and give them a cheese salad baguette every now and then. And we should do this not just because our Lord commands us to, but because it’s a great laugh when two posh kids have to re-think what their champagne-parents have told them. Go confuse people with the things of Jesus and post them on here to encourage us.

Peace

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As the plane left the ground in Manchester the same old fear bounced around my empty head. The fear of engine failure. Don’t get me wrong…as a Christian I believe Jesus was spot on when he gave us eternal life. I am also convinced of the authenticity of the Resurrection after studying the evidence. I know my future in this world and beyond is in the hands of that same Jesus who smashed the power of death. However, as soon as my life is temporarily in the hands of a commercial aircraft pilot call Rick, who I have never met, my alpha male tendencies shrink into an embarrassing sweat. I clench my fists around my seat belt, which soon prevents any blood flowing to the organs beneath my rib cage.

I looked at Christopher Anderton. I thought if I was scared, then this geek would be a blubbering mess of a man for sure. (And he wears glasses.)

He saw the look of dread in my eyes and asked if I was ok. I was impressed by his overall calm demeanour, but knew full well he must have been saying goodbye to his insides deep down. I replied: “No Chris of course not. What if a flock of birds get caught in the engine? What if a small crack beneath my seat opens up and I’m sucked out like a tic tac? What if snakes on a plane wasn’t just an awful film, but a superb documentary? Have you thought about this stuff?! Have you!!”

He chuckled to himself. He then said: “Alex, I have thought about these things of course. But I’m not scared of death. And what a way to go to glory, evangelising to the passengers around you as you soar through the clouds. Don’t be afraid Al. You idiot.”

As a beer-drinking, anthem singing, football fan of a Christian, I need to be careful I do not fall into the same trap as the hypocrite who boxes people up into categories. We are much more comfortable using the term “man’s man” here in the British church these days, in a bid to reach out to the average Joe. And that is totally fine. However, we cannot pigeon hole men into manliness because of their drinking habits or the volume of their voice. We must not become like men’s magazine editors describing what a Real Man looks like. Christopher Anderton AKA Mr Bean, is a real man. He trusts God’s Word and does not fear what most men do in this world.

Let’s read the opening of Psalm 1 and consider what a real man looks like.

Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked, or stand in the way of sinners, or sit in the seat of mockers.

But his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night.

He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither.

Whatever he does prospers.

Men of faith, let’s spend more time meditating on the promises of our king. Who knows, he might bless us with courage, strength, vision, joy and honour. He might just do that for us.

Peace.

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The Pixel Project are an online organisation (State-side) working hard to bring awareness to the cause to end Violence Against Women. For those of you already involved in this area, you’ll know the horrifying statistics all too well. You’ll be familiar with some of the cases. You’ll know the scope of the task at hand if we are to see change and restoration.

There’s a section on The Pixel Project website called ‘The Men’s Room‘. They’ve correctly pointed out that if we are really want to see change, we need to see a change in the hearts of men.

That’s the massive heart-beat of our CODELIFE initiative (launching at CODELIFE 2010 – the CVM Annual Conference). A code of honour for men to live by, to use their strength to protect and not to harm. Redeemed masculinity where men live courageous, inspired, humble lives. Willing to sacrifice for others and determined not to quit.

Take a look at what The Pixel Project have to say. You can also follow them on Twitter.

“It’s time for a new kind of man.”

UPDATE: These guys are not just in the US – but operate worldwide – 25/08/2010

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Dear Lads,

So what if we were no longer off our faces, but on our faces?

What if we got such a kick out of just being alive, I mean really alive, that any manufactured buzz, any substance promising the world, just didn’t appeal? Cheap imitations fall away without hesitation. What if this life, life to the full, so filled us up to the point of over-flowing, that before we knew it, we’d affected our friends, our sports teams and the entire dance floor? When they thought they were thirsty when they got in the club? When the triples for singles failed to quench? Imagine getting a taste of the living water. Imagine your friends just getting a sip of it.

A friend of mine met Jesus half-way through Uni. He went from being a champion of the drug scene, to a boy broken by the love of God, being rebuilt and refined into a man. When presented with a handful of substances laid out on the table in front of him, he said: “I looked at the stuff and it was like being offered mouldy, stale breadcrumbs, when I’d just been given the whole loaf.”

Lads, do not settle for anything less than the whole loaf.

And there’s more than enough to go around. This bread of life. Catering for crowds is one of Jesus’ specialities. But this won’t be a party unless it’s got guests. So who are you inviting?

The feast isn’t just in the churches. The feast is where ever there are hungry people. Which means we leave the buildings, and we go public with this. We take it to the streets. Nothing wrong with Christians in clubs. If you’re walking in there having filled up on the bread of life, and now you’re sharing the picnic, do it. Dance about it. Open up the invite.

It’s not a party without guests. God CAN dominate dance floor conversation. And the best part of it is, after that incredible moment by the bar, when your friend turns to you and asks, “Can I come to Church with you on Sunday?”. Or that realisation in the queue for the toilets that ‘I want what you’ve got. I want to find God’, you are sober.

They won’t forget it in the morning. They can’t.

Get humbled. Ask God to use you for His glory. Less of us, more of Him. Get on your face before the King.

Imagine what would happen if every Christian hit the bars, the pubs, the clubs, full of nothing but the love and life of the living God. Because I’m not settling for seeing my generation off its face. So I’m getting on mine, before the God who has the power and compassion to change it. I want to start taking God at His word.

No more hesitation, limitation, I’m starting a petition for my generation.

Guest blogger,

Miriam Swaffield

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Watch this on YouTube and find out more about CODELIFE: The Conference

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As part of that we are really pleased to offer the largest selection of seminars at a CVM Conference! We have guys speaking on Evangelism, Movies, Transitioning to Manhood, Money, Business, Church and much, much more.

Take a look at all the options online – and if you’ve booked in for CODELIFE 2010 you can now choose your seminar options online too!

And for those of you hanging out to the last moment, it’s not too late to book! But soon it will be so make sure you get your booking in today and join in on the fun on September 10th-12th.

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My mind always looks for an escape route before embarking on any journey. Its scans the size of the risk and counts the cost before advising the soul to proceed. However, my heart usually gets wind of my mind’s advice and starts to burn. It glances at the risky situation momentarily before turning to the soul with fire in its arteries. All my organs hold their breath, awaiting the inevitable. Coronary carnage.

This is what my heart has told my soul this summer: ‘Alex you complete and utter disgrace of a man. You give the male species an awful name. Not only should you ignore that tool in your huge square head, but you should smoke that cowardly #!#! out of your skull. Have you actually seen the risk? So what you might get some slack at work, so what she might think you’re a clown, so what your friends might think you’re taking this Jesus thing too far; dip the clutch for Christ’s sake!’

At this point my lungs and kidneys side with my mind and urge my soul to ignore the cardiac outburst. However, this outrages my heart even more. It reacts with a pulsating fury: ‘Oh look who has perked up! The nobodies! If i had my way you’d all be transplanted for an extra pair of testicles.”

This outrageous insult usually has the desired effect. My balls awaken. Though they are the least eloquent part of my anatomy, they say what they feel. ‘Oi, brain, shut your hole. And if kidney and lung want a scrap, lets dance. Heart, you’re a star, keep it up fella. Pardon the pun.”

Brothers and sisters, my soul has started listening to my heart in recent months and my mind is losing itself. This is my last day as a news reporter. I am heading to CVM for good and moving to Chesterfield. My close friends are raising their eyebrows at my faith resurgence. And a beautiful woman is currently considering the offer of a clown from wales.

And praise the Lord, who says he will give us the desires of our heart. That he will give us new hearts. That he is stronger than our heart. That if we believe in our heart, we will be saved.

He knows the folly and deceit which often harbours in our hearts, as do we, but God forbid we ignore the Spirit of Jesus who prods our hearts to man up. How much longer are we going to hide our dreams for the Lord? For how much longer will we assume God cannot lead our friends and family to the life changing truth of Jesus? How much longer will us single lads believe the Lord doesn’t know our wildest dreams?

I believe in the sovereign lord Jesus, who sits at the right hand of God cheering his believers on. I swear my heart can hear the cheers of Christ sometimes.

I’m going for it lads.

Peace.

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We camped in the wet Newark grass and laughed ourselves to sleep. Though my efforts to survive in the wild were mocked by my three friends, I felt safe, probably for the first time in a year. The Christian conference opened my eyes to so much which will radically change the way I see others in the coming months.

I will probably wake up earlier to look for Jesus and wait more patiently for God to answer my cries. I will challenge the archaic weights which hold churches back from bringing the truth to lost communities across the UK. I will eat less crap and I will fail many, many times, naturally.

As I saw the fingerprints of my beautiful creator in the eyes of my beautiful friends, I was reminded of the most common command in Scripture; Do Not Be Afraid. God has brought us all this far, without backing out of a single promise. The relic of prayer still works and the Bible still transforms the lives of normal people like us.

I walked back to my tent with Luke, Hannah, and Miriam, and glanced to a break in the clouds. Maybe it was a fluke, or perhaps a wonderful picture of God’s delightful sense of humour, but four birds had taken flight towards the sun descending. I didn’t tell my friends, my weirdness had been mocked enough.

However I can say this; New Wine 2010 … everything has now changed for me.

Peace.

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