“……the most effective strategy for change, for revolution - at least on the large scale that the kingdom of God involves - comes from a minority working from the margins…….. that a minority people working from the margins has the best chance of being a community capable of penetrating the noncommunity, the mob, the depersonalized function-defined crowd.” – Eugene Peterson, The Pastor: A Memoir.
Perhaps our old friend Eugene had been looking at the life of Jesus as he drew his conclusions above. Jesus cared little for trying to win over the religious elite. In fact, I’d say he went out of his way to expose their hypocrisy, legalism and gatekeeping. Jesus chose what at first seems like a random group of misfits and ragamuffins. He chose neither priests or pharisees, government officials or royalty. He chose blue-collar workers, fishermen, a zealot, a tax-collector. These were your ‘everyday’ regular folk, called to follow Jesus into something new, to leave behind what was considered normal and embrace the words of scripture, ‘behold, I am doing a new thing’. They sojourned through the highways and byways at first, away from the limelight, out in the wild and rural spaces. In fact, on a couple of occasions Jesus tells those he heals not to tell anyone. When they do go and spread the word, the energy and interest swell to the point that he can no longer enter a city (Mark 1:45) and so stays out in secluded places. Jesus and his group lived out on the margins, the periphery.
It might be good at this stage to look at this word ‘margin’. Margins of society refer to those who live outside of what is considered societal norms. Sometimes this is a lifestyle that is intentional and chosen, but mostly this is forced upon an individual, group or community. Those on the margins are often overlooked and considered undeserving. There is often a lack of access to services and education; there is health inequalities; poverty and homelessness; and systemic barriers that prevent them from fully engaging and contributing to society.
How then do these minorities, and all-too often forgotten, people from the margins usher in effective change or the Kingdom revolution that we long to see in our towns and villages? Could this be the great paradox of the work of God and the movements of the Spirit?
Let’s go way back and quickly look at the desert father and mothers. These were ordinary Christians living in solitude or small clusters in the deserts of the Middle East. They had chosen to withdraw to the wilderness to live a truer more authentic union with God, away from cultural and economic expectations of the Roman Empire. This of course was the precursor for what was to become monasticism. This choice to live on the margins paid off and the desert fathers and mothers grew in wisdom, understanding and experiential union with God. We are still learning from their wisdom as new generations are drawn to their willingness to escape the reaches of empire.
Fast forward to today. Iran is a very difficult place to have a Christian faith. Consistently sitting near the top of the World Watch list, Iranian Christians face persecution and the threat of violence, imprisonment and harassment. Yet the 2016 film Sheep Among Wolves says this about the church in Iran, “The fastest growing church in the world has taken root in one of the most unexpected and radicalized nations on earth. The Iranian awakening is a rapidly reproducing a discipleship movement that owns no property or buildings, has no central leadership, and is predominantly led by women.”
As we face rapid decline in Christianity in the UK, denominational decline, restructuring and the closure of buildings and church communities, let the above quote sink in for a short moment. The Iranian church has very little resources, money or property, no formal leadership structure…….and it’s growing rapidly. Human rights group Article 18 published a report (in collaboration with Open Doors, CSW and Middle East Concern) stating a recent increase in arrests and lengthy prison sentences, an ‘intensified effort to isolate and financially undermine the Christian community as part of a broader strategy to suppress its growth and influence’, the criminalisation of financial donations to Christian communities, and how the authorities consider the bible to be contraband and therefore an indication of membership to a Christian ‘sect’.
And yet it continues to grow. It continues to thrive on the margins.
Why is that?
One contributing factor is the depth of community. Nothing draws people together and strengthens the human heart like facing adversity. In Western countries - where we ‘church hop’ at the slightest whiff of dissatisfaction, we ‘cancel’ people who think a little differently, we label certain theology as ‘dangerous’ because it’s a different to our own – we buckle under the slightest discomfort. Our institutions (and their leaders) are beginning to lose hope, something that happened to a lot of people some time ago when they jumped ship!
The epistle to the Romans tells us that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. Are the voices of hope whispering from the margins? Is the suffering found there producing the antidote for the current conditions we find society in?
What happened when Jesus gave his foundational teaching that we now call the Sermon on the Mount? Well, we get an idea of the paradoxical nature of his message, the message that seems to reveal the reality of the kingdom. The persecuted will receive the kingdom of heaven, they will receive a great reward, and they are in good company when you remember the prophets who also found themselves in the firing line. He then opens many of his points with the words, “You’ve heard it said……… but I say……..” which offers a new way of seeing, a new way that’s actually an old way of perceiving and understanding the reality of the world around us and what it means to be human.
Perhaps the margins are where the Message of Jesus remains uncorrupted by power, greed and ego; perhaps the margins are where we might find the poor in spirit, the meek, the merciful and those who hunger and thirst for righteousness; and perhaps that’s where our eyes open fully to the reality of the Kingdom. Perhaps, the view from this vantage point is our best hope of penetrating the ever-hardening exterior of the modern world we inhabit; our best hope for renewal, these hurting and forgotten ones? Perhaps we could humble ourselves enough to realise that sometimes we are the lower hand, the ones in need; perhaps we could humble ourselves enough to learn from our brothers and sisters from the margin, maybe their suffering, character and hope can speak to thirst we’re all experiencing in our place of privilege?
Jon Timms
Director, Scotland and Northern England
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