Connecting with Culture
It’s been said that culture is ‘what we make of the world’, but what does that look like as Christians? How can we begin conversations about what’s goin...
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How can I write about the people running from Ukraine? Forget writing, I should do something! But so far, I haven’t.
Well, I signed a petition. And I plan to write to my MP. And I should look at those Instagram posts explaining where to donate. And then I should donate. And I have a spare room.
Chances are I’ll do at least one of these things, eventually. But at times like this, Paul’s on-the-nose confession from Romans 7:19 lands flatly in my mind: ‘I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do – this I keep on doing.’
Faced with the bald fact that 3 million people are so scared of being shot, blown up, or arrested that they’ve binned their lives and flung themselves on strangers’ mercy, my monkey brain goes: ‘Oh dear, oh dear. Oh dear.’ And then opens another can of Coke Zero.
Do something! Yes! Of course! Yes. But… later.
And so I do not do the good I want to do. Which I clearly don’t want to do all that much. Even wanting to is harder than it sounds.
I’m not telling you this to whip up self-centred melodrama or make you feel bad by association. I’m telling you because I was asked to write about Ukrainian refugees, and as I mulled over ideas while buying oat milk in Morrison’s, I realised it would be fraud to say anything else. Because I often need a mental (and quite possibly a literal) slap to put my money, time, and effort where my mouth is.
The same could be said of the UK government. I have a hunch it could be said of most of us, when we’re not on our best days.
The point here is not that you and I must (or can) do everything for everyone. There are, for example, other legitimate claims on my spare room at the moment, and other warzones that demand our aid. But each of us can do something – or possibly lots of things. Praying for God’s intervention. Giving to frontline charities. Donating clothes or essentials. Even sponsoring a visa and giving somebody shelter from this storm.
Because the call of Romans 7 is not to despair at the ‘law of sin’, but to find hope in ‘God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ’. He’s the one who does something – often through us.
If we’re willing to join in.
—
Josh Hinton
Marketing & Editorial Lead, LICC
For the many ways in which you can help Ukrainians coming into this country, here’s a recording of very informative online event from this past week, headed up by Krish Kandiah of the Sanctuary Foundation.
https://youtu.be/4n-Wmru5LIA
Thank you for the honesty, reflection, and link
Thanks Bruce! Glad it was helpful.
How refreshing and honest. Well done, Josh.
Thanks! Hope it was useful to you 🙂
Thank you Josh for a very thoughtful piece. As Christians we specialise (or should do!) in holding onto, and continuing to talk about, hope, even in the darkest places, even knowing our own inadequacies, and even when the news seems profoundly discouraging. We keep on hoping for that better world that we know is possible if we follow God’s ways and share that vision with others. Just because the world is not as it should be, doesn’t mean we have to be resigned to it staying that way!
Amen! That’s the great thing about Romans 7 – it’s all very downbeat, but ends on hopefulness.