جارٍ تحميل الأرشيف الحي.
واصِل الاستكشاف
مرتبطة بالمقطع الكتابي أو بموضوعات مشتركة.
لم تُترجم هذه الصفحة بالكامل بعد. يظهر بعض النص أدناه أو كله بلغة English، وهي لغته الأصلية.
Thank you so much for that slightly embarrassing introduction. It's a real privilege for Irene and I to be with you. I'd like to speak today on the subject of transforming communities the Jesus way.
We come from Lincoln, and across Lincolnshire you can go from village to village and find chapels—many now closed. Within about 40 minutes of our house is Epworth, the place where John and Charles Wesley lived. From that humble beginning, not only was the region transformed, but it became a worldwide movement. I was brought up in the Methodist church, and in my roots there's always been this desire for what God did in the past to happen again. We sometimes talk about redigging the ancient wells, and there's truth in that.
But as we grow older, it's possible to move from the prophetic to the nostalgic very quickly—telling stories of the good old days. I'm determined not to get locked up in the history of past things. We want God to do it again, but he'll do it in a different way, and we need to be open to the fresh movings of the Holy Spirit.
Some time ago I was studying Matthew's gospel and noticed how often villages, towns, and cities were mentioned. Going through it systematically, I found seven principles for the transformation of territory. Seven is often a preacher's number, so there may be others I've missed, but I want to walk through these seven together—illustrating them from the Acts of the Apostles and from stories today.
We start in Matthew 5:13:
"You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot."
Salt, when scattered, stops corruption and brings purity. As we go back into our schools, workplaces, and daily lives, we are like salt—we should be different. The atmosphere should shift when we go into our workplace, where the gospel is lived out in character and belief, not just spoken on a Sunday.
It's not about banging people over the head with Bibles. It's that as people see integrity and a different spirit, they get curious. It might be a smile, a conversation, or a moment when someone's in trouble and they look to you. All of us can understand that Jesus says we are salt—there's a scattering process, and today more people are coming to faith, with more baptisms taking place across the UK.
In Acts, you see this infiltration happen quickly. At Pentecost, 120 believers gathered in the upper room—a number small enough that everyone could know one another. Then the Holy Spirit came and "messed that up," and 3,000 were saved. Through Acts you see salt scattered, becoming an opposition to Roman rule, and things beginning to change.
The second principle comes from the very next verse, Matthew 5:14-16:
"You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden... let your light shine before others that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven."
If the first principle is scattered, this is gathered. That's why church is so important—people need the church. It's not perfect, but when we gather together, things happen.
Years ago in church planting we often found little places obscure on the edge of towns. Thank the Lord, God is giving churches profile today—lifting levels where the light can be put on. We were never intended to be hidden away from the world. It's time to shine.
In Acts, cities became strategic. Jerusalem, then—through persecution—the great city of Antioch, where Gentiles as well as Jews came to faith and it became an apostolic center. From there, Iconium, Lystra, Derbe, Philippi, Thessalonica, Athens, and eventually Rome were touched.
There's something powerful when the church gathers—when denominations connect and are no longer in competition. This was part of the vision behind Great Vine through the years. There are encouraging signs of a quiet revival today: Bible sales are up around 87% this year, and church attendance since COVID is up about 2.6 million. Notably, young men are coming to faith in significant numbers.
In Lincoln, four or five young men this past year woke up feeling they needed to go to church and are now part of the fellowship. In Market Rasen, a young man with no church background told me he woke up on Easter Sunday with a strong compulsion to go to church, passed a building called New Life Fellowship, thought "I could do with some new life," walked in, and came to faith that morning.
Light up Solihull for the purposes of God.
Moving to Matthew 8:34:
"Then the whole town went out to meet Jesus."
This follows two demon-possessed men being delivered. The shift was so dramatic that the whole town responded. We need to be people who stir the population around us, even though in the Western world we can be uneasy about confronting darkness and prefer to keep our heads down.
We are in a battle. The enemy wants to harm, kill, steal, and destroy, but Jesus came that we might have life in all its fullness. In Acts 13, when the sorcerer Elymas was confronted in Paphos, "almost the whole city gathered to hear the word of the Lord." In Acts 16, a slave girl in Philippi was delivered from soothsaying, and light came to that place.
We have a cafe connected to our church staffed entirely by ex-addicts who have come to faith—the most wonderful people. When darkness is confronted, the light begins to break in.
I know of a pastor whose relative had no time for God and became addicted to alcohol. One night the man dreamed of a man in white holding a long, wine-stained red cloth. As the man wrung it out, the wine drained away until the cloth was perfectly white. The man woke up totally delivered from alcohol. We've heard similar stories from nations where the gospel isn't easily proclaimed—people having visions of "the man in white." Light overcomes darkness.
In Matthew 9:1-8, a paralyzed man is dramatically healed, and "when the crowds saw this, they were filled with awe." There is nothing more wonderful than a demonstration of God's healing power.
Our own son, at age 16, contracted a cancer at the back of his right eye. We were thrust into a world we weren't prepared for—pastoring people in the healing power of God while facing the possible loss of our own child. We saw many miracles through that process, and now, at 40, he's free from cancer. He's since written a song, I Know the Healer, which we're seeing used for major healings.
God is still the God who heals. Sometimes we get skeptical and analytical—but if we want to see more people healed, we've got to pray for more people, with compassion, not as one-off stuff but persistently seeking and knocking for breakthroughs.
In Acts 1–6, an apostle walks up the street and even his shadow heals the sick. The problem is I identify with Acts 6, where the first complaints arose—"you're not doing this right." The apostles wisely gave themselves to prayer and the word, and appointed others to serve tables.
Matthew 10:11 says:
"Whatever town or village you enter, search for some worthy person there, and stay at his home until you leave."
This speaks of people of peace—people who welcome what God is doing and open doors, whether or not they are believers. In Acts 16:13, Lydia, leading a prayer group, opened the door into Philippi. In Acts 18, Aquila and Priscilla became keys into Corinth.
Relationships are vital in the kingdom of God. Even Moses needed someone on his left and someone on his right to keep his arms up. We were never intended to be isolated. God often puts people in our path who open doors and bring favor—sometimes in government or positions of influence. We need to watch for those God-given contacts; if we're too busy, we may miss them.
Matthew 12:25 says:
"Every kingdom divided against itself will be ruined, and every city or house divided against itself will not stand."
Unity may be the weakest area of the church still—there's too much friendly fire and competitive behavior. Years ago, Nicky Gumbel phoned me, asking if HTB could plant a church in Lincoln at the Bishop's request. I could have resisted, imagining the implications of a new, shiny church nearby. Instead, I said, "We need far more churches in our city—we will welcome you, and we'll even help you." We sent three couples from our own leadership to help them plant. We lost some people as a result, but pursuing unity is in the heart of the Lord.
For years after we planted our church and left the Methodist denomination, I felt like a "black sheep" who had left the fold. I began praying, "Lord, is there any way that can be turned around?" Eventually the General Secretary of the Methodist Church invited me to speak at their Conference in Westminster on "why I left the Methodist Church." I began my talk with: "The best thing I ever did in my life was leave the Methodist Church"—pause for effect—"however, the way that I did it was not good. There was not enough communication." I asked for forgiveness. It felt like something being lifted off my shoulders, and the warmth I received in response confirmed that unity is at the heart of what God wants.
If there's anybody you're out of sorts with, if there's anyone you need to put things right with, if you've got an attitude against another church up the road, I think those things need bringing to the Lord.
I once visited a little chapel in Devon with two midweek Bible studies—one for the Authorized Version, one for the NIV, because they couldn't agree on translations. Communities notice when churches squabble, and it's really not good.
My final point comes from Matthew 21:10:
"When Jesus entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred and asked, 'Who is this?'"
The word could be translated uproar—a stir, a commotion. As Jesus entered Jerusalem in triumph, there was an uproar. We're looking for days when the name of Jesus is made famous again, when his name is honored, and our communities are impacted.
Let's encourage infiltration—you're the salt of the earth. Let's gain visibility as we gather—you're the light of the world. Let's confront darkness wherever we can and let the light in. Let's demonstrate God's power, being courageous in prayer. Let's be open to make contacts, and let's pursue unity.
And more than anything else, let's exalt Jesus, who really is the greatest—the King of Kings, the Lord of Lords, the beginning and the end. Everything holds together in him.
If you don't yet know Jesus, today is the day. Jesus is the key to all of this. Communities are transformed when Jesus is lifted up.
