 ‘Steep your life in God-reality.’ (Jesus Christ) ‘First God’: these are the opening words of The Message. They resonate with the opening line of North American Rick Warren’s book, The Purpose Driven Life: ‘It’s not about you.’ This feels very pertinent to me at the start of this New Year as we mark a symbolic transition. Some use it as an opportunity to make resolutions for the year ahead – that is, to choose this or that change in lifestyle. Others use it as a chance for a life reset – to leave the past behind and move on in the direction of a future that’s more aligned with what they hope for. For me, there’s something deeper, more existential, at stake here. We’re living in at a time where quite a lot of people are starting to have doubts about their doubts about God. What if God-reality turns out to be real and true after all? This begs important questions. Danish Søren Kierkegaard in his reflections on Christian psychology distinguished between an authentic self, rooted in relationship with God, and an inauthentic self, trying to make its own way in the world. According to this view, the opposite of ‘sin’ isn’t virtue, but faith and trust. This critical insight reminds me of German Thomas à Kempis’ paraphrase of Jesus’ teaching in his now-classic text, the Imitation of Christ: ‘If you seek me with all your heart, I will be found by you, says God, and if you seek yourself you will find yourself – but to your own undoing.’ In fact, this seeking theme runs throughout the entire Bible. It’s as if God relentlessly seeks authentic relationship with us, and we are free to choose to look for it – or not – and whether to accept it – or not. This New Year, it looks to me like the ball’s firmly in our court.
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 ‘The people walking in darkness have seen a great light.’ (The Bible) You may have heard it said a picture can paint a thousand words. This image (above), captured by Jasmin’s daughter, Mary, this week, spoke more to me about the authentic meaning of Christmas than any I’ve seen on glitzy, tacky TV ads. Jasmin, Mary, Paul and a small group of inspired students in the Philippines spent their Christmas bringing good news to the poor. Their first venture involved taking gifts and running a fun-filled party for 127 poverty-stricken children and their families who live in a cemetery. It brought hope to people on the margins of society who so often live without hope. The joy on the children’s faces was incredible. That brought joy to Jasmin and her helpers too. True light brings light, and it reflects back too. Today, Christmas day, Jasmin, Mary and Paul ventured out again, this time to take gifts and the message of Divine love to 173 poverty-stricken children and families who live on the streets. The look of surprise and joy on their faces was life-giving too. They could never have imagined being seen, valued and loved like this. The people walking in darkness have seen a great Light.  ‘Christianism: A crude political ideology and the triumph of empty symbolism.’ (Ben Ryan)
The UK has spent decades sleepwalking toward secularism, where faith has been driven relentlessly into the personal-private sphere. Now we're waking up to something very different. A muscular version of Christianity is re-emerging, not as a spiritual faith but as a political identity. It’s a re‑branding of national belonging where being 'British' feels increasingly identified with being ‘Christian’. I'm not talking about the gospel of Jesus Christ or about spiritual renewal here. I am talking about identity politics. It’s about casting Christianity as a default badge of belonging and using that badge to redraw the boundaries of who counts as ‘us’ vs ‘them’. Anxiety and frustration are fuelling that shift in the face of mass migration, cultural disruption and a fear that who ‘we’ are is slipping away. ‘Christian’ is being used increasingly as a political brand. Once any religion becomes a marker of national or cultural identity, it becomes a de facto test of belonging. Tests always leave people, the ‘others’, outside. It chips away at the humility and compassion that are, for followers of Jesus, core to their lives. Religion becomes less about conscience or community and more about raw power. For Christians who believe authentic faith should question power, who see gospel values as both universal and counter‑cultural, the appropriation of Christianity into nationalism feels like a dangerous distortion. Jesus said, ‘Love your enemies’ (which suggests there are those we may rightly regard as enemies). True faith lays in reaching out in love – not in alienation or conquest.  ‘If you don’t risk anything, you risk even more.’ (Erica Jong) I ran a vision and team development day yesterday for a group of inspiring Christian leaders. Their chosen venue was a football stadium (a new experience) that looked quite breathtaking for someone like me who doesn’t know the first thing about the sport. We grounded the day in a specific spiritual account, then used Appreciative Inquiry to discover, dream, design and decide in relation to it. One of the themes that emerged was, in a social and geopolitical context marked by increasing anxiety, how to avoid manifesting an anxious presence too. After all, the leaders in the group are working in the same contexts and subject to some of the same stresses and dynamics as people living in their wider communities. I was reminded of BANI – brittle, anxious, non-linear and incomprehensible. I glanced out of the window and noticed emblazoned above the stands, ‘Our Loving Devotion Guides our Livelong Dream’ and, beneath that, four short banners that repeated one simple message: 'Fear Nothing. Fear Nothing. Fear Nothing. Fear Nothing.' Love is an antidote to fear. One participant said: ‘What am I willing to do, that others may know they are loved by God?’ That's a courageous question.  ‘Sometimes it takes a natural disaster to reveal a social disaster.’ (Jim Wallis) I didn’t sleep well last night. This time, it wasn’t fake news. Typhoon Tino hit hard and battered central Philippines, leaving at least 188 people dead and thousands of others’ fragile homes and livelihoods shattered. It came on the back of a 6.9 earthquake in the same region just weeks ago that left at least 74 people dead and countless others injured or without homes. Jasmin called me from within the Signal 4 storm itself last night, just before the power cut off. Wind and rain were lashing at her windows, along with windswept objects crashing against the glass. Trees outside were uprooted violently and thrown to the ground. She looked anxious and I felt terrified. The deep flood waters that followed have left much of the area underwater. Thank God, she managed to message me this morning with snapshots of the devastation outside, yet her family safe on the inside. We had prayed hard last night – Jasmin with faith and me in near desperation – and I had a mysterious dream of Jesus alongside her there, reflecting a supernatural biblical account of Presence and survival in impossible circumstances.  ‘When seeing is not believing.’ (Rob Toews) While Hurricane Melissa was wreaking real and devastating havoc in the Caribbean yesterday, reports of an incoming super-typhoon wreaked havoc of a different kind in the Asia Pacific. Deep fake news reports triggered disaster risk reduction measures, people raced out to panic buy emergency supplies and the prices of essential goods soared, hitting the poorest the hardest. The government’s meteorological authorities sent out urgent counter-messages to reassure a very nervous public – but who could know which messages were real and which were fake? This felt like a dark glimpse into an AI-generated future. Let’s be honest. Media news reports have always contained subtle (and some not-so-subtle) blends of information, drama and propaganda, but global politicians, social media and deep fake technologies in malicious hands have created a whole new era of confusion. How can we know what’s real and true when fake masquerades as truth and truth is framed as lies? Aspiring dictators create and seize on mass bewilderment and anxiety to offer simplistic solutions with claimed-clarity and security. As I reflect on this critically and reflexively, I can’t help but do some personal soul-searching too. How far is the persona I present, for example as a follower of Jesus, genuine and true? Jesus himself called out spiritual leaders of the time as hypocrites (literally, those who wear a mask), of hiding their true selves behind a façade to win approval. They had fallen into an elaborate form of deception, a self-destructive self-deception, akin to imposter syndrome in reverse. If we believe our own lies, what hope is left for us? God, help me be an authentic agent of truth.  ‘Bad things do happen in the world like war, natural disasters and disease. But out of those situations always arise stories of ordinary people doing extraordinary things.’ (Daryn Kagan) A recent qualitative research study in Peru in the aftermath of El Niño (2025) could have equally applied to life and communities in places like the Philippines. In terms of psychosocial impacts of ‘natural’ disasters and their intersecting contributory causes, the pattern is all too painfully familiar. People and communities in various parts of the Philippines this week are living with the physical, psychological and emotional aftershocks of shattering earthquakes, compounded by the damaging effects of devastating typhoons. I hesitate to use the word natural. Although we wouldn’t attribute the underlying causes of earthquakes to human activity, we couldn’t say the same of violent tropical storms where human-impacted climate change is an increasingly significant factor. A disaster occurs when hazard meets vulnerability. The poor are often the most vulnerable to the causes and impacts of hazards, including the ability to avoid, mitigate or recover from them – and poverty, albeit a complex phenomenon itself, is far from a ‘natural’ state. The research report I alluded to above identifies a number of interrelated issues that impact on psychosocial health: personal memories and lived experience of previous disasters; chronic and acute effects of the disaster (‘It’s not a now problem; it’s an always problem’); attributing blame and responsibilities; coping and resilience (including faith and relational dimensions); psychosocial distress (including personal and vicarious trauma); perceived (un)fairness in aid distribution; systemic corruption and distrust. Against this complex and, in some ways, overwhelming backdrop, I’m still inspired and find hope in the faith and actions of those people who transcend self-interest to stand alongside those in need. Jasmin lacks the material and political resources to address the macro issues, yet persistently steps out of her comfort zone directly into disaster zones equipped only with a spiritual presence (a ‘sacred encounter’) – Divine love – that, in its own unique way, offers deep psychosocial healing and hope – and the strength to go on.  ‘Give yourself a gift of five minutes of contemplation in awe of everything you see around you.’ (Wayne Dyer) I love spending time under German motorway bridges. I know that may sound a bit dodgy or weird, yet there’s something about the majestic hidden architecture that I find completely awe- inspiring. The tall pillars supporting the structure above have, for me, an evocative, ancient, temple-like appearance. Standing in those places, allowing myself to feel mysteriously lifted outside of myself, has a kind of spiritual quality to it that I struggle to express easily in words. Finding expansive places like this, whether in awesome mountain ranges or standing on a beach gazing out across open skies and sea, is a stark contrast to feeling hemmed in or pressed down by the day-to-day pressures of everyday life. It creates a moment to breathe in deeply, to feel the freedom and joy of space. I find that expansive, interior space in prayer, in God, too. Contemplation is, for me, presence to the awe-striking Presence who is already present with us.  ‘Heroes need monsters to establish their heroic credentials. You need something scary to overcome.’ (Margaret Atwood) Today I received my first ever ‘digital credential’. To be honest, I wasn’t sure what it was at first. I had imagined receiving an embossed paper certificate through the post that I could laminate and put in my neatly-labelled qualifications folder. Turns out I’m old school, still catching up. I now know a credential of this type is designed as a “secure, verifiable online record of a person's qualifications or achievements.” (You can tell I Googled that). Saves on paper too, I guess. It got me thinking about this idea of credentials and how the word itself has the same linguistic root as credibility. To all intents and purposes, it’s about influencing what other people believe about us. It can have an impact on what we believe about ourselves too. After running over 100 Action Learning training and facilitation events for Action Learning Associates, I decided for congruence’s sake it was time to put myself through the same paces I put others through. I also did a postgraduate diploma in Coaching Psychology. I remember vividly how I had three critical reasons for doing it and for driving myself to achieve a distinction grade: to make a difference in clients’ lives and work by becoming the best psychological coach I could be; to honour the Christian INGO that had generously sponsored me; to prove to myself in my more insecure coaching moments that I must know something of what I’m doing and talking about. So, in my mind, confidence (what we believe about ourselves), competence (what we’re actually capable of doing) and credibility (what others believe about us) are very closely linked. Credentials are like symbols, badges, visas in passports that can open doors, make something possible, remind us of something important whilst also demonstrating it to others. For me, the most significant 'credentials' question is how to be what God values most. How about for you? [If you'd like to hear more about Action Learning and how it could benefit you, get in touch!]  ‘The German Bible calls the Holy Spirit the Beistand – literally, the One who stands beside us.’ Prayers for Peace. For over 3 years now, since Russia invaded Ukraine, this small and dedicated group of people have met every Wednesday evening in a cold stone church building in Germany, often warmed only by flickering candles and their burning desire to see a different world. The crucified Saviour in the background felt especially poignant tonight. The focus was on Israel-Gaza, praying for all sides of the conflict and standing in spirit beside all people suffering unspeakable pain. As we arrived, I stood slightly outside of the group, leaning against a wooden pew. I’d been sitting down all day writing an article and I needed to stretch to avoid discomfort I have with nerve pain. Just before the prayers were about to start, one of the leaders tip-toed gently across the room and stood silently beside me, without looking at me or saying a word. I’m a visitor from England, a stranger and yet, in the midst of the darkness, I too was touched by their simple act of solidarity. |
Nick WrightI'm a psychological coach, trainer and OD consultant. Curious to discover how can I help you? Get in touch! 
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