The pre-publicity indicates that Bell’s new book addresses a problem that he perceives in Evangelical Christianity – that the whole shebang is pitched as a threat that if you don’t give the right answers, make the right decisions, get your religious karma right, then you will go to hell.

His opponents are assuming that he is going to give a Universalist answer; others are mistaking universalism for pluralism (not the same thing), but they are very bothered that Bell might be going to suggest that whatever you think or do, you’ll end up in heaven anyway. And they are hopping mad about it (and this makes me wonder why some people are so anxious to keep other people out of heaven… but that’s another can of worms).

I don’t know whether this is what Bell’s book will say, or whether he will give a nuanced account of his theology at all. I look forward to seeing whether he will align himself with any strand of Universalism, or perhaps the kind of ‘Conditional Immortality’ that F D Maurice lost his Professorship over in the 1850’s, and which C S Lewis was pretty much persuaded by, or the ‘Anonymous Christian’ theory of Karl Rahner. Or possibly a popularised fudge of all three. None of these ideas are new or even entirely original. An examination of Universalism for Evangelicals has recently been brought to the fore in two books by Gregory MacDonald; I’m eagerly awaiting a new book on eschatology by the excellent New Testament scholar Paula Gooder for new thoughts on the Bible’s account of heaven, and these are/will be worthy of close reading. But what is extraordinary about Bell is not new or original theology, or deep scholarship, but the magnetic quality he has as a communicator.

As far as I can see, it’s this, rather than theology per se, that is Bell’s real gift. His writing and broadcasting actually covers very little ground theologically, and does so imprecisely, but what he does par excellence is capture the imaginations of those who have become disenchanted with Christianity, and haven’t enough patience or emotional energy to re-examine it. I think that – perhaps like Brian McLaren – he is far less guilty of “heresy” than his opponents suggest; he is reductionist in his theology, but that seems to me to emerge from his deeper longing to communicate at the level of an evangelist and pastor. Once people are interested in theology the finer details can be worked on with theologians who – precisely because of their concern for the finer details – fail to communicate in quite the way Bell does. But if people never get interested in the first place, they will never hang around long enough to examine the finer details.

Coleridge once wrote that a reductionist approach to teaching is ethically acceptable, as long as the teacher acknowledges that what they are saying is a means of opening the doors to more and deeper knowledge, and as long as their teaching is full of signposts to where that deeper knowledge might be found. But as any teacher of 8th grade physics will tell you, if you don’t flatten knowledge at the elementary level, the learner will never be able to get up the first few rungs of the ladder of learning, and the complexities of mature knowledge will be forever unavailable to them.

So I don’t see any point in arguing that Rob Bell (or anyone else) is not a good enough theologian to speak in public. He isn’t claiming to be a Professor; why should he be criticised for not doing something he isn’t claiming to do? I, on the other hand, can claim a degree of theological precision (it’s something I necessarily demand of myself and my students) yet I have found myself on the receiving end of plenty of the opposite kind of criticism – being told off for “living in an ivory tower” and not “communicating with the masses”. The truth is that we need all kinds of people to communicate at all kinds of levels. Rob Bell does that kind of stand-up-comedian, monologue, evangelist thing better than most, and if you look carefully I don’t think he is preaching heresy so much as connecting with the mis-communicated ideas that many people have about Christianity.

So why not rejoice in the fact that Rob Bell is a highly accomplished communicator, and is engaging people with Christianity at entry level? If his critics are that theologically acute, they would be better off simply admiring what he does well, and then endeavouring to provide more theological development for those whom he engages, than wasting energy criticising him for not being a Professor of Theology.

see you on the airwaves?

What’s the key to a successful, ecumenical service of worship that attempts to include some 20,000 people? I think the key is to start with one of the recipes for worship that has already endured for centuries, and use that as the template. There is a good reason why liturgies become established… it’s because they WORK! You can try way too hard with this stuff – in my experience trying to re-invent the wheel rarely works. But taking the elements of a classic and then re-interpreting it means that everyone will have some sense of recognition of what is happening. And if you are really skilful in the re-interpretation you can make it feel inclusive of most denominations.

This year we took the structure of a communion service, taking what you would find in common in a Catholic, Church of England, Wesleyan or Lutheran context, and gave every part of it a new twist. A eucharistic liturgy is like a 5-act play: it begins with a three-part confession (of praise, faith and sin), follows with a liturgy of the word (read scripture, proclaim it) then intercession (look outwards to the world) then a liturgy of the sacrament (bread and wine) and finally the blessing and dismissal (the service is not complete until the people of God, filled with the presence of God, are back out in the world).

I love working with Martin Poole – he is so good at creative worship, but his background in theatre and TV means that he has a great feel for the scale of each act of worship. With a field full of 20,000 people it’s hard to make people feel involved whether they are front of house or hundreds of yards away on the back row.

We came up with the idea of giving everyone a little pack with some pieces of pre-printed paper with the essential bits of the service on it, and a small piece of plastic mirror. With this, the festival theme “the art of looking sideways” was enacted in worship.

With the mirror people first of all had to view huge letters that were held up on stage but back-to-front. Hence people were not just standing watching, but having to interact with what was onstage. As the service progressed and the information on the paper had been used, there were then instructions that there were several different versions of the paper: each person had to find people with the other versions, and only when they got together did they discover that the pieces of paper folded together turned unrecognisable blobs of ink into the word “god”. Then there were confetti canons that released snowstorms of confetti into the air, floating down like manna from heaven. The dynamic was taken away from the stage; the back row became the place where the actions were. And then later the mirrors were used a second time: each person stuck the mirror on to their own forehead while they greeted others: thus they saw themselves at the same time as they looked at you (and it made everyone laugh too, always a good thing). The message came through all of these that it’s only when you connect with other people that you see yourself, and God, more clearly; in addition, it enhanced the idea that sometimes you don’t see spiritual truth by looking at it directly, it’s just as likely to come at you laterally.

Ecumenical worship on a massive scale sounds like a huge challenge – and it is. There are always the finer details that don’t match up between denominations – is it a sacrament or a memorial? who pronounces the words of forgiveness? is there a priest, or does the very word priest ruffle people’s feathers? To some extent you can’t resolve all those problems; we will never agree on all the details, so you have to hope that those who come along are more interested in finding a space to worship together than picking a fight

Nevertheless, bread, wine, people, prayers and blessings is what the church has done for a couple of thousand years. The key to a sense of inclusion with thousands of people is not to change the liturgical recipe, but to make sure it works on a grand scale, introducing activities and elements that help people connect with each other, not just with the stage at the front.

Saturday 3pm: Big Top, chairing a panel on how you know what you know. Includes scientist Keith Skene, artist Bobby Baker Robin Ince and Giles Fraser.

Saturday 3.00pm Winged Ox CANCELLED

Sunday 7.30-8 on Radio 2 with John McCarthy

Sunday 10.30 am leading worship from mainstage with Martin Poole, Stuart Townend and more

Sunday 6.00 Hebron (Talks 2) The Writing on the Wall – a talk about the bible and the arts, based on my new book.

Sunday 8.15pm signing books in the book tent. (eek – I struggle with this bit, hope it doesn’t look pretentious)

In between whiles, track me down for a Tiny Tea!

I’m excited for all sorts of reasons – taking part in quite a few things, and planning to go and hear/watch/meet some interesting people too. What are you looking forward to?

Me? I like the fact that Greenbelt respects people’s ability to think for themselves. Peter Tatchell has made an interesting journey through religion which the Church needs to listen to, just as much as it needs to hear voices like Alan Jamieson and Jenny MacIntosh on why substantial numbers of people who start out intensely committed to Church end up leaving in order to save their own souls. Here’s what Hugh Rayment-Pickard wrote about Tatchell’s chapter in 50 Voices of Disbelief:

Peter Tatchell, the human-rights campaigner, tells the story of his jour­ney from Evangelical Christian­ity through a commitment to a liberation theology to the day when he realised that “he didn’t need God any more.” His reason, his belief in love, and his passion for justice would be enough to see him through life. Tatchell defends religious free­dom, and admires those religious people (such as Desmond Tutu) who campaign for justice; but he points out that religions are fre­quently repressive and intolerant. I admire Peter Tatchell, because he has shown the kind of prophetic moral courage that should be one of the marks of the Church. There is something Christ-like, I think, in the fearless stand he has taken against violence and oppression. Many of the pieces in this book are full of superior contempt for the intellectual inadequacy of theism. Tatchell is forthright in his criticism of religion, but he never sneers.

Greenbelt has never sought to indoctrinate or to peddle a party line, instead providing a range of opinions for people to listen to respectfully before deciding for themselves what they believe. Anglican Mainstream says we shouldn’t be told to “experiment” with this that and the other. But do they really object to people being allowed to think?

And as for the children – there are dozens of talks at Greenbelt that are not attended by children, for the simple reason that kids get bored listening to 40-minute talks that are way above their heads.  Families with kids head for the family-friendly activities.

EDIT: Church Mouse commented on this earlier, though I missed it at the time.