Deployment in Monterey

Pam and I had a growing realisation that we were running into a number of people who worked in media, arts and entertainment, motivated by a Christian commitment. How many it was hard to tell. They were often quiet types. Even those with performance genes can be all the more introspective off-stage. Like other artists many of them would say, “I’ll let my art speak for me”. After all that’s what art is supposed to do.

Even a cursory glance at a tourist map of London showed the imposing front of the National Gallery all along the top side of Trafalgar Square which was marking the year 2000 with a special exhibition entitled “Seeing Salvation”, aiming to show how artists had tried to depict Christ over all the centuries.

I went down to see it the day it opened. It was jammed. I can understand the Guardian’s reviewer who wrote, ““The exhibition of images of Christ, at the National Gallery, was by far the most popular exhibition in Britain, with more than 5,000 visitors a day…Within a day staff knew they had a phenomenon. People were queueing for hours to get in, moving at a snail’s pace because visitors spent so long studying the works.” They quoted the Gallery’s director Neil MacGregor’s explanation: “Seeing Salvation investigated a theme that has shaped western art through the centuries”.

While I was in the Gallery I bought a book they were selling along with the exhibition, Jesus Through the Centuries: His Place in the History of Culture by Jaroslav Pelikan, professor of history at Yale. I opened at page 1, “Regardless of what anyone may personally think or believe about him, Jesus of Nazareth has been the dominant figure in the history of Western culture for almost twenty centuries. If it were possible, with some sort of super-,agent, to pull up out of that history every scrap of metal bearing at least a trace of his name, how much would be left? It is from his birth that most of the human race dates its calendars, it is his name that millions curse and in his name that millions pray”. Couldn’t have said it better myself.

Meanwhile, momentum was building in London among Jesus-followers in the media, arts and entertainment industry, like a subterranean rumble. All they needed was a catalyst to connect them with each other. The resolution came from an unexpected source – Birmingham. Steve Cole was a young music manager there who began to commute to London to join friends across the industry who had showed interest in his three watchwords: humility, unity and prayer. Steve took his time and contacted every conceivable artist who might be interested in praying together.

He announced a date and a venue – a building belonging to the Salvation Army on Oxford Street. Three hundred turned up, to their own astonishment. They liked it and arranged to meet monthly. There were brand-name musicians, no-name actors and everything in-between, including the slightly anxious performers who, for most of the month, were waiting tables while also waiting for their next job.

Steve’s idea was “nobody leaves here un-prayed-for” and to accomplish this he organised us into little groups of three or four at the end of each evening so we could share personal needs that the others in the group could pray for. I ended up in a group of three one evening with a man (of some artsitc streak) and stylishly dressed woman who hadn’t been before – a cut above the normal, for that audience anyway. I shared my little story, the other guy shared his, and then it was the woman’s turn. “Would you mind awfully”, she began, “if, instead of asking for something personal, I ask for something worldwide”. “Go ahead, absolutely, be our guest,” the other two of us said, wondering what was to come.

“Well,” said Ms Worldwide, “I want us to pray for a conference in Monterey, in California, where leaders in various fields are going to meet to discuss the future of the world. Al Gore will be there.” Us two guys looked at each other. Now it was time to pray. The other guy chickened out on the Monterey option and did all his praying for me. Then silence. I prayed briefly for the guy and then said to our new lady friend, “You know all about the conference, so we think you’d be the best person to pray for it”. She seemed delighted, “Do you really think so?” she asked. “Sure, go ahead”.

There followed a remarkable prayer which went like this: “Dear God, please send an angel to help these leaders to talk together. Or, if possible, an archangel. Amen”. I checked later. The conference was the one of the very first TED talks. And Al Gore was there.

On the way home on the No. 27 bus along Marylebone Road, I imagined a conversation between the archangel Michael and the archangel Gabriel, “It looks like one of us is going to Monterey this evening. It’s in California”.