“London has changed, and it’s out of my control”. Thoughts like this one often flit through my mind as I make my way through the bustle of the big city.
Although I wasn’t born in London, I have lived in the same East-end locale for more than 30 years. In this time I believe I have experienced the discomfort of change that would rival that of those who have moved across cities and regions. I have been witness to my friends and family’s growing irritation with the demographic - the general mess, disorder, crime and litter that comes with fast changing populations, the increased number of women in headscarves and men in traditional wear, and overwhelmed public services.
People may have heard of "White Flight"; I have also experienced the flight of the Black and mostly Hindu and Sikh South Asian population. While I have stayed, prioritising building community through the church and getting to know my transient community (if tentatively and imperfectly), the thoughts persist, “London has changed, and it’s out of my control”.
Longing for an 'ideal' home - right or wrong?
I know that I am not alone in thinking these thoughts. One could exchange “London” for many other towns and cities in the UK. Political parties base their identities and policies on the hope for a return to an ideal of Britain that they can control. There is often little use debating the rights and wrongs of these parties and policies, but their rising popularity points to a matter of the heart: we all want to live somewhere that we feel proud to call our home.
I think we often feel that it is wrong to think such thoughts. We want to say words that celebrate and affirm the increasing diversity of the UK, but when we do not acknowledge the inevitable discomfort that comes with such diversity, our behaviours betray a shallow understanding of the sacrifice involved in building a church that reflects our local community. We will therefore speak in ways that seem to embrace change, while at the same time wanting to avoid what might appear to be dangerous and difficult.
When these thoughts come to mind, instead of suppressing them I have to remind myself of the reality of my longing for home and comfort. I have to stop and notice the thoughts that I am having, increasing my awareness to my personal discomfort with the situation that does not conform to my expectations of homogeneity. Slowing down to do this allows me to notice the individual or the circumstance that has triggered this thought.
As a Christian who has God’s Spirit living in me, I can then pray in that situation mindful that my Father knows and understands my longings (Romans 8:15).
For instance, I can stop to notice and pray for the women in the headscarves walking in front of me in the supermarket that they come to know Jesus. My heart in the process is softened towards them, seeing them as humans in need of the Light who has broken into the darkness (John 1:5). I might even find myself engaging in pleasant conversation with them.
In another moment, on a busy underground train, I can stop to remind myself of the gospel truth that this world is not my home, as I pray in anticipation for a home comfort that is unattainable in a changing world but is coming in the world to come (1 Peter 1:13).
As I slow down to notice my internal battle, I can embrace the work of the Spirit, who uses these challenges to build my faith and change my behaviours.
Britain has changed: let’s be aware of it, mourn it, celebrate it and remember the gospel.
Social justice, political differences & the church
At a recent event, I was accosted by a younger Christian who spoke to me of the challenge of being …