The Way of Repentance

I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree that the law is good. But in fact it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells within me, that is, in my flesh. I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me. (Romans 7:15-20)

This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light and in him there is no darkness at all. If we say that we have fellowship with him while we are walking in darkness, we lie and do not do what is true; but if we walk in the light as he himself is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin. If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say that we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us. (1 John 1:5-10)

Paul has put his finger on it here! How frail and contradictory we all are, and how much in need of forgiveness and mercy. Truly there is not one among us who is free from this.

It's not so much that we commit individual sins (though of course we do, all too often!) but that our hearts are inclined always away from God, unless we allow the Spirit continually to re-align us. It's this, rather than any silliness with hair shirts, that is meant by "The Way of Repentance" (see Irma Zaleski's wonderful book of the same title) It sounds fearful and slightly strange, especially to 21st century people, but actually it's gentle and clean, a way of freedom and grace.

I know I do keep on about the Jesus Prayer, but its quiet insistence, "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner," is just exactly the healing balm the broken heart (Psalm 51:17) is crying for - Jesus is "gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls." (Matthew 11:29)

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That fine wire, salvation...

I was just reading an article by Victoria Boyson, The Spirit of Salvation, in which she reminds us:

In the beginning, our heavenly Father created us for Himself and He greatly delighted in His creation. He meant for us to be His family and He loved us so much. However, Satan was perverted by His sick jealousy of man and sought to destroy what God loved. He twisted the words of God and lied to mankind in order to devour them.

How the Father mourned the loss of His dear ones that He cherished; how He wept over them. And how Satan used them to hurt God more and more by driving them to sin, then using their sin to torment them all the while "claiming" ownership of them. How it wounded the Father's heart each time His beloved would chose to sin and be driven farther from Him.

It just occurred to me how similar the modus operandi described here is to the philosophy of all terrorism and much violent crime: I don't like you, because you won't do what I want... but I can't get at you directly, so I'll hurt you by hurting those you love... and that will be your fault not mine, because you didn't go along with my wishes in the first place. You had only to give me pride of place in Heaven, and in your affections, and mankind would never have had to suffer the consequences of the Fall; you had only to release the political prisoners, and that busload of schoolchildren need never have been bombed; you had only to cook my meals right, and your daughter need never have been beaten till she couldn't walk.

What are we to do? How can we possibly deal with a tactic like this? The Cross is the only possible answer - there the grief and the mercy of God were drawn through the die of the worst injustice, the ultimate example of the suffering of the innocent, to form the fine but infinitely strong wire of salvation. A free gift, but as Eliot said in Little Gidding "Costing not less than everything..."

Yet again I'm reminded of the hymn I chose for our Songs of Praise evening, "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross", with Isaac Watts' astonishing words, "Did e'er such love and sorrow meet, or thorns compose so rich a crown? Were the whole realm of nature mine, That were an offering far too small; Love so amazing, so divine, Demands my soul, my life, my all."

The key lies in what Joyce Huggett describes as the shift in the focus of prayer from what or whom we are praying for - the victims of terrorism, say - to Jesus himself, our crucified Saviour (1 Corinthians 2:2). As Joyce says, "The acute awareness of the presence of Jesus [persuades us] that [we] need not fumble for fine words in order to present to Jesus the needs of others. All that [is] needed [is] that [we] should pass the person or situation into his... hands." (Listening to God, p73) Which is where Michael Ramsey's words, "putting ourselves in his presence, being hungry and thirsty for him, wanting him, letting heart and mind move towards him; with the needs of the world on our heart" come in. Our only possible prayer in the face of ultimate evil (well, my only possible prayer, anyway!) is the prayer of Romans 8:26, letting the Spirit intercede in our stead, "with sighs too deep for words..."

"Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner..." And in that mercy a world of grief and pain is washed and washed again "through his most precious blood."

Songs of Praise

We had a Songs of Praise evening at church today - 10 of us each chose their favourite hymn or worship song, and introduced it, explaining why they had chosen that particular piece. We then sang them, with organ or electronic keyboard accompaniment.

Really a strangely moving night - very personal, intimate accounts came out, of people's interior - and exterior come to that - journeys with the Lord, and how these songs had illustrated, ornamented and fed their own pilgrimages.

If anyone feels like doing something different one evening, I can highly recommend the exercise. The BBC Songs of Praise website illustrates the programme that gave rise to the idea, in case anyone's unfamiliar with it, but it's basically very simple and straightforward. You need to announce it, of course, a few weeks in advance, so people have time to think, and musicians have time to practice!

Carlo Carretto wrote...

this about creation:

Here is the miracle of love: to discover that all creation is one, flung out into space by a God who is a Father, and that if you present yourself to it as he does - unarmed and full of peace - creation will recognize you and meet you with a smile.

I, Francis (Orbis 1982)

He also wrote this about prayer:

as long as we pray only when and how we want to, our life of prayer is bound to be unreal. It will run in fits and starts. The slightest upset - even a toothache - will be enough to destroy the whole edifice of our prayer life.

You must strip your prayers... You must simplify, de-intellectualize. Put yourself in front of Jesus as a poor man: not with any big ideas, but with living faith. Remain motionless in an act of love before the Father. Don't try to reach God with your understanding; that is impossible. Reach him in love; that is possible.

taken from Michael L. Gaudoin-Parker The Real Presence through the Ages (Alba House)

And Jesus, when they asked him which was the greatest commandment, replied:

"You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind." This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: "You shall love your neighbour as yourself."

Love. That is all there is, finally. When everything else has failed, love remains. And all things lead back to love. St Paul saw this perfectly - not only in 1 Corinthians 13:13, but so strongly in Romans 8. The whole chapter, beginning with that great statement of liberation, "There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus..." and through all the amazing statements about prayer and the Spirit, and the cry of assurance that begins at v28, drives on to the climactic statement that "neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord."

Prayer is love. The Wikipedia article on "Prayer in Christianity" underlines this beautifully: "For the Christian, prayer is love, and to 'Pray always' (Luke 18:1) is to love always." The Jesus Prayer, once it becomes by use bedded into the mind, begins to sing gently under all our thoughts and all our words, fulfilling that injunction of Paul's to "pray without ceasing" (1 Thessalonians 15:17)

Micah recorded the Lord as saying "what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God." (6:8 NIV) To love mercy. To love as prayer, and that prayer being a prayer for mercy, "Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me, a sinner..."

Annie Dillard wrote:

"Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? Or who shall stand in his holy place?" [Psalm 24:3] There is no one but us. There is no one to send, nor a clean hand, nor a pure heart on the face of the earth, nor in the earth, but only us, a generation comforting ourselves with the notion that we have come at an awkward time, that our innocent fathers are all dead - as if innocence had ever been - and our children busy and troubled, and we ourselves unfit, not yet ready, having each of us chosen wrongly, made a false start, failed, yielded to impulse and the tangled comfort of pleasures, and grown exhausted, unable to seek the thread, weak, and involved. But there is no one but us. There never has been.

Holy the Firm (HarperCollins 1977, 1984)

And Jesus gave us those two commandments, to love our Lord and to love each other; and our love can surely only truly be shown, as is Jesus' for us, as mercy. Lord Jesus, have mercy - on us and through us - use our love and our prayer as you will, for your mercy, in your Spirit. "Lord here I am - send me! Have mercy on me, a sinner..."

Back again!

Another of my long lacunae, I'm afraid... we've been doing major house tidyings and so forth, and preparing for the village fête one weekend and the church fête the next! One way or another I just haven't got to my desk more than to check emails...

We've planted a few new plants in the garden - a couple of Buddleias, a red shamrock, a couple of Osteospermums - and repopulated the planters and tubs. Should've done all this ages ago, but our hearts weren't in it in the early spring. Somehow we're coming back into bloom ourselves now - Jan especially is blinking in the light like a woman on a train that's just emerged from a long tunnel. I feel like dancing to see her - but all I seem to manage is to be grumpy about all this house rearrangement and so on. I guess I'm a bit like a cat in that respect - things may not be perfect, but I hate 'em being shook up...

Strange, I seem somehow to cope better - more graciously anyway - with adversity than I do with blessing. Maybe I feel I know what's coming with adversity!

I've finally managed to arrange a retreat - going away for 8 days at Compton Durville at the end of July. Somehow I guess I need silence and stillness like a plant needs water, and so much has happened over the last year, or less than a year, that the need has become acute, just to allow things to settle out if nothing else. Do pray that nothing will happen to prevent my going, and that Jan will be well enough that I can leave her without worrying!

Compassionate time...

As so often, I've been thinking about the relationship between contemplative prayer and what people sometimes call "real" prayer - i.e. intercessory or petitionary prayer - and what any of that has to say to circumstances like the Sand Creek Massacre, which Jan has just finished watching dramatised in Soldier Blue. I couldn't watch.

Simon Barrington Ward, in his superb book on The Jesus Prayer, says, "the whole prayer becomes an intercession. Soon, I find that I am no longer praying just for myself, but when I say 'have mercy on me, a sinner' I find that all the situations of grief and terror, of pain and suffering, begin to be drawn into me and I into them. I begin to pray as a fragment of this wounded creation longing for its release into fulfilment. The macrocosm of the world and the microcosm of my own heart look curiously similar and become part of each other. I am in those for whom I would pray and they are in me - Every petition of the prayer becomes a bringing of all into the presence and the love of God."

This of course is the essence of Michael Ramsey's famous remark that contemplative prayer "means essentially our being with God, putting ourselves in his presence... wanting him, letting heart and mind move towards him; with the needs of the world on our heart."

Merton said, "The contemplative life must provide an area, a space of liberty, of silence, in which possibilities are allowed to surface and new choices – beyond routine choice – become manifest. It should create a new experience of time, not as stopgap, stillness, but as "temps vierge" – not a blank to be filled or an untouched space to be conquered and violated, but a space which can enjoy its own potentialities and hopes – and its own presence to itself. One’s own time. But not dominated by one’s own ego and its demands. Hence open to others – compassionate time, rooted in the sense of common illusion and in criticism of it." (The Asian Journals of Thomas Merton (New Directions Publishing Corp. New York, 1975) pp 117, 177)

We in our generation are all too often in danger of crating a false dichotomy between what we perceive as different kinds of prayer. But I think this is more a semantic or else a cultural thing than anything rooted in spiritual reality. I know some within the evangelical community have a deep distrust of contemplative prayer that is rooted in an assumed association with Buddhist and Hindu methods of meditation. Of course there are methodological parallels; but to say that they are effectively the same thing is to say that Salvador Dali is essentially the same as Raphael because they both used certain materials and techniques. Even the most thoroughly Eastern-influenced Christian writer on prayer knows perfectly well that for the Christian prayer is to do with God or it is nothing.

Now, given that prayer is rooted in the belief that the finite can actually communicate with the infinite, and that the infinite is interested in communicating with the finite, then it is odd to assume that such communication must be confined to plain English (or whatever is the pray-er's native language) - or indeed to words at all. After all, doesn't St Paul say that "the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words." (Romans 8:26)? We are very familiar in our own time with many different forms of communication other than the verbal, so why should we be puzzled that it is the same with God?

The closer we draw to God, the more aware we are of the beautiful signs of his hand in all that he has made, the more we come to know his love and his mercy and his purity, the harder it for us to bear the fallenness of creation. Paul again: "We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now; and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. For in hope we were saved..." Romans 8:22-24. Our contemplation cannot be selfish, self-absorbed - for the closer we are to God, the more our hearts are broken for the suffering, for women, for men, children, even the smallest of the animals, and we come to see their pain and their degradation mirrored in our own lives. So our contemplation becomes intercession - and as we see the mercy and the grace of God in made visible in Christ and at work in the world by his Spirit, so our wonder and our love turns to contemplation, and all our crying returns to, "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner..."

God is good...

Over this past week God's blessings and his mercy have been so clear... The details I can't go into one by one, and in any case they probably wouldn't make much sense to anyone else - but there has been such a sense of his "steadfast love" after all the difficulties of the winter. So many things in our lives are coming straight and clear now - he really is "making all things new."

The weather goes on and on bringing out the beauty of this place we live in. This morning is all hazy sunshine and a kind of sheen of light on the leaves like the skin of water on stones in a stream. This light seemed to follow everyone this morning into church - there weren't many of us today, with people away on holiday - but there really was such a clear sense of our being "one body, because we all share in the one bread." Communion was a tangible thing, as though the sacrament itself became visible over us all like that light on the leaves, and for those few moments we were transfigured, like people on the steps of Heaven...

About the Sacred Feminine & such things...

I just found this wonderful post, "Sacred Feminine?" on OTRgirl's fine blog. What she says about Mary Magdalene bears quoting in full:

Dan Brown maintains that by Jesus marrying Mary Magdalene and having a child with her he was elevating women. Frankly what Jesus really did for Mary was much more radical. He saw her as a person. He didn’t have to have sex with her, marry her, or have children with her for her to be valuable. He instead recognized her intrinsic worth. In most societies around the world and throughout history, that has not been true. Even now in the US most of my single women friends are agonizing about still being single. Without anyone saying it, there’s a sense that something is ‘wrong’ with them. If they were smarter, nicer, prettier, more willing to compromise, etc. surely they’d be married by now. But Jesus values women for themselves. They were part of the group of disciples as unmarried women. He let himself be touched in public by an ‘unclean’ woman (who wept over his feet, dried them with her—unbound=prostitute—hair, and anointed his feet with perfume). His masculinity didn’t need a woman for validation and he valued the feminine in woman without needing to possess her.

OTRgirl is so strong and clear about this, that I was groping after in posts like "Upside Down..." and "A special deformity of conscience?" She's nailed the DaVinci Code thing good and proper, and made a superb point about one of my favourite Gospel people in one hit. Stunning stuff!

Sunshine and things...

Listening to Clannad, to Maire Brennan's extraordinary voice, that is more joyful and more tragic than anyone's I know. Suddenly wanting to be in Ireland again. There are bits of me that belong to that beautiful broken land and that are never quite whole unless I'm there. But I've never seriously considered moving there, somehow. Odd creature I am, I think...

I am going to have to do something about this growing obsession with soundscapes - strange thing for a guitarist to get into, unless they happen, like Steve Hillage, to stumble across their very own Miquette Giraudy! Very hard to do anything in this territory without keyboards...

Dorset is wonderful in the sunshine - there's a clear golden light over everything, and the air is heavy with the scent of flowers, except when a light sea breezes springs up to bring the freshness back. Behind the house the bank of the old chalk-pit rises up in solid wall of green, inhabited by solitary warblers and little families of titmice... God is very good, and, "Ever since the creation of the world his eternal power and divine nature, invisible though they are, have been understood and seen through the things he has made." (Romans 1:20) Not too hard to understand or see on a day like today!

Abelard, Eckhart and Keats

This passage came up this evening at our LPA course, strangely, since it is for the third or fourth time I have stumbled across it recently:

From somewhere near them in the words a cry rose, a thin cry, of such intolerable anguish that Abelard turned dizzy on his feet, and caught at the wall of the hut. "It's a child's voice," he said.

Thibault had gone outside. The cry came again. "A rabbit," said Thibault. He listened. "It'll be in a trap. Hugh told me he was putting them down."

"O God," Abelard muttered. "Let it die quickly."

But the cry came yet again. He plunged through a thicket of hornbeam. "Watch out," said Thibault, thrusting past him. "The trap might take the hand off you."

The rabbit stopped shrieking when they stooped over it, either from exhaustion, or in some last extremity of fear. Thibault held the teeth of the trap apart, and Abelard gathered up the little creature in his hands. It lay for a moment breathing quickly, then in some blind recognition of the kindness that had met it at the last, the small head thrust and nestled against his arm, and it died.

It was that last confiding thrust that broke Abelard's heart. He looked down at the little draggled body, his mouth shaking. "Thibault," he said, "do you think there is a God at all? Whatever has come to me, I earned it. But what did this one do?"

Thibault nodded.

"I know," he said. "Only, I think God is in it too."

Abelard looked up sharply.

"In it? Do you mean that it makes him suffer, the way it does us?"

Again Thibault nodded.

"Then why doesn't he stop it?"

"I don't know," said Thibault. "Unless it's like the prodigal son. I suppose the father could have kept him at home against his will. But what would have been the use? All this," he stroked the limp body, "is because of us. But all the time God suffers. More than we do."

Abelard looked at him, perplexed. "Thibault, do you mean Calvary?"

Thibault shook his head. "That was only a piece of it--the piece that we saw--in time. Like that." He pointed to a fallen tree beside them, sawn through the middle. "That dark ring there, it goes up and down the whole length of the tree. But you only see it where it is cut across. That is what Christ's life was; the bit of God that we saw. And we think God is like that, because Christ was like that, kind, and forgiving sins and healing people. We think God is like that forever, because it happened once, with Christ. But not the pain. Not the agony at the last. We think that stopped."

Abelard looked at him, the blunt nose and the wide mouth, the honest troubled eyes. He could have knelt before him.

"Then, Thibault," he said slowly, "you think that all this," he looked down at the little quiet body in his arms, "all the pain of the world, was Christ's cross?"

"God's cross," said Thibault. "And it goes on."

From Peter Abelard
by Helen Waddell

It brings me back once again to the thought that we, if we are truly to follow Christ, to become like him, then there is this terrible identification, this empathy, in all the full sense of the word.

Merriam Webster's Medical Dictionary defines empathy like this:

the action of understanding, being aware of, being sensitive to, and vicariously experiencing the feelings, thoughts, and experience of another of either the past or present without having the feelings, thoughts, and experience fully communicated in an objectively explicit manner...

but it's deeper than that. John Keats spoke famously of "negative capability" - by which he seemed to mean not only the ability to open oneself to experience (including, crucially, others' experience) but also to remain within that experience, or knowledge, without attempting to reduce it to intellectually manageable proportions - or in Keats' own words: "that is when man is capable of being in uncertainties, Mysteries, doubts without any irritable reaching after fact & reason."

Only so can we truly respond to the quality that Meister Eckhart just called istigkeit, is-ness... Negative capability is a kind of empathy "which permits us simply to let things be in whatever may be their uncertainty and their mystery." (Nathan Scott)

But don't imagine - as I think Eckhart's contemporary detractors imagined - that this implies a kind of detachment, a cold withdrawal from the world and the suffering creatures that inhabit it. In 1985 the Pope, John Paul II, said: "Did not Eckhart teach his disciples: 'All that God asks you most pressingly is to go out of yourself - and let God be God in you'? One could think that, in separating himself from creatures, the mystic leaves his brothers, humanity, behind. The same Eckhart affirms that, on the contrary, the mystic is marvellously present to them on the only level where he can truly reach them, that is in God."

Paul said, "...you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God." (Colossians 3:3)

Eckhart makes the vital link between Abelard and Keats - that as we are open uncritically to our created sisters and brothers, human and otherwise, we are able as Christians to be open in Christ, and that this openness is in itself somehow redemptive, as we simply walk with them through the dark valley, bearing the light of Christ in our own hearts.

From this comes true prayer, for it is only in this condition of openness to suffering in Christ that we are able to pray for people and situations as they are rather than as we conceive them to be, or as we assume they ought to be.

I want to finish with a quote I've mentioned before, from Br. Ramon SSF, where he explains this kind of prayer better than anyone I know:

We have seen that the Jesus Prayer involves body, mind and spirit... The cosmic nature of the Prayer means that the believer lives as a human being in solidarity with all other human beings, and with the animal creation, together with the whole created order (the cosmos). All this is drawn into and affected by the Prayer. One person's prayers send out vibrations and reverberations that increase the power of the divine Love in the cosmos.

The Christian is well aware of the fact that the world is also evil. There is a falseness and alienation which has distracted and infected the world, and men and women of prayer, by the power of the Name of Jesus, stand against the cosmic darkness, and enter into conflict with dark powers... The power of the Jesus Prayer is the armour against the wiles of the devil, taking heed of the apostle's word, 'Pray at all times in the Spirit, with all prayers and supplications...' [Ephesians 6:18]

From Praying the Jesus Prayer by Br Ramon SSF (Basingstoke: Marshall Pickering, 1988) Page 26.

Summer (not) in the City

The weather here has been just plain wonderful - warm, bright, sunny but just a little sea breeze to stop it getting stifling. The kids are out playing football everywhere, happy dogs chasing after them, and Figgy the cat sits on the warm earth under the Ceanothus bushes, coming in to cool off covered in pollen and smelling of honey.

Dear Betty died today, a peaceful end to her long battle with cancer. Well into her seventies, she was one of the greatest enthusiasts for Vineyard-style worship (so long as it wasn't too loud) and so sure of God's love for her, and for his church. We'll miss her. The whole village will. She's happy now, of that I'm completely certain, no more worries, no more pain. She'll find her towel laid out by the crystal sea, and an end to tears forever.

God's love is stronger even than death. "We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose... Who will separate us from the love of Christ? ...For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:28-39)

The sun goes on shining.

I sometimes wonder if our love of the sun, and our corresponding depression when we are deprived of it for long, isn't some kind of premonition of that time when "the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God is its light, and its lamp is the Lamb." (Revelation 21:23). We are made to walk in the light, and our hearts are sick till that day when the light of the world, and of all worlds, will shine for us always, with no clouds, no distorting mirror, no need to shield our eyes - for "then [we] will know fully, even as [we] have been fully known." (1 Corinthians 13:12)

Some more reflections on Merton...

...to love another as a person we must begin by granting him his own
autonomy and identity as a person. We have to love him for what he
is in himself, and not for what he is to us. We have to love him for
his own good, not for the good we get out of him. And this is
impossible unless we are capable of a love which ‘transforms’ us,
so to speak, into the other person, making us able to see things a he
sees them, love what he loves, experience the deeper realities of his
own life as if they were our own. Without sacrifice, such a
transformation is utterly impossible. But unless we are capable of
this kind of transformation ‘into the other’ while remaining
ourselves, we are not yet capable of a fully human existence.

From Disputed Questions by Thomas Merton
(Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, Publishers, New York, 1960) Page 104.

This is a very deep thing Merton is saying here, and it has huge implications not only for pastoral care, but also for the life of prayer. To pray for someone is to love them, in a way just as practical as feeding them or clothing them or listening to them. But if our love is to reach the depths of identification Merton is hinting at here, then our prayer may look very different from the conventional intercessory model.

On the home page of The Mercy Site I quote Michael Ramsey: "Contemplation is for all Christians... [It] means essentially our being with God, putting ourselves in his presence, being hungry and thirsty for him, wanting him, letting heart and mind move towards him; with the needs of the world on our heart."

In order to love, to pray, like this we need to become entirely vulnerable to the world, defenceless, without keeping ourselves back from the sometimes unbearable reality confronting us. But we don't, truly we don't, need to be able accurately to delineate the problem, sociologically, medically, economically, politically... still less do we need to be able to dream up an answer to it. God knows all about the problem, far more intimately and accurately than we ever could, and he, the all-wise God, knows how to bring his mercy to bear on it. No, what he needs from us is our love - a love that cares enough to risk breaking our hearts for those who suffer, as Jesus was broken for us.

We need to be open to the pain of creation, but open in and with God. Such openness in our own strength might overwhelm our minds and hearts - but to be open in Christ, through the Spirit, is the most redemptive act we as humans are capable of. And we are all capable of it. It doesn't require a degree, any special aptitude, rigorous training - it just needs love.

Mea culpa!

It's been far too long since I posted anything... Really have kept meaning to, but there's been so much going on, and when I've had the time my head's been going in all kinds of directions.

However...

I'll try and get into the habit of posting at least someting regularly - it's not fair to have a blog and leave it unattended, I always think.

Looking back to my last post on May 15th, I should record that I finally said, "yes" and have begun the offical Lay Pastoral Assistant training. Feels like a huge step, somehow. I don't think it's the job itself - and in our church it's very much what you make it, so I can major on prayer rather than visiting if that's where the Lord puts me (it usually is!) - but more that it's a kind of irrevocable commitment to work within the Anglican church  from now on. Well it feels irrevocable. It also feels incredibly right. I have less doubt than I've had about anything since beginning the long Franciscan trail. God has finally nailed me, I think, and so here I shall stay, nailed...

There's a lot to think about. I do know that coming here to Wool, Jan and I both felt so strongly that God was calling us to serve this community, to work here, in this and the surrounding villages, and despite some pretty strong human nudges away from here, nothing has changed that. I've felt too, increasingly strongly, that one of the real challenges to the chuch in England at the moment is ministering to the rural community, and that the CofE is probably the only church in a position to do so. I've been praying about this for years now - so I can't really complain if God has taken me at my word, and decided to make me a bit of the answer to my own prayers!

More of this later - I need to go and put some rice on to boil...

Sine proprio (take 3)

As if in answer to my thoughts earlier today, this just arrived from The Merton Foundation in their weekly email:

If we want to be spiritual, then, let us first of all live our lives. Let us not fear the responsibilities and the inevitable distractions of the work appointed for us by the will of God. Let us embrace reality and thus find ourselves immersed in the life-giving will and wisdom of God which surrounds us everywhere.

From Thoughts in Solitude by Thomas Merton
(Farrar, Straus and Giroux, Publishers, New York, 1958) Page 46-7.

I think I am all too prone to "fear the responsibilities and the inevitable distractions of the work appointed for [me] by the will of God."

I'm not sure if saying, "Once bitten, twice shy" actually amounts to a sin in itself, but it can most certainly lead to missing the mark, which is what the OT Hebrew for sin means, after all. "God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but rather a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline." (2 Tim 1:7)

Sine proprio (take 2)

This has been a good but troubling week. I'm still struggling with this question of sine proprio - without possessing, as I think it ought to be translated.

It's remarkable how, every time I think I've decided that my call is just to prayer, something else comes up. Only this week the Lord did it again, and I've been asked by two of the people whom I most respect as Christians and as friends to consider taking a quite significant step in terms of ministry. It would be very much what I chose to make it (at least, that's what they say!) but it would involve a fair bit of, well, stuff, as Wimber used to call it.

I think I'm getting caught in a trap of my own making, really. I have been praying so much for this community, that we'd be shown how the church can most effectively serve this rural yet deprived area, with all of its very disparate areas of need, and its uniquely rural forms of alienation... I've always said that one has to be prepared to be at least part of the answer to one's own prayers...

Hah!

Now, is my longing (a longing St Francis had throughout his life) just to be alone with God, to be close to him, near him, to know him more and more, something that, however good it may be in itself, is ultimately selfish, akin to the disciples' longing to make dwellings on the Mount of Transfiguration?

Judy's sermon yesterday on John 15 struck me all of a heap. She said that when we do abide in the vine, thoroughly, we don't have to struggle to find things to do to serve the Lord. We just have to live in the situations in which we find ourselves, and respond. Respond out of that ingrafted vineiness that is the life in Christ, respond out of the love with which he has filled us, and in which we abide. Let it overflow. Don't mind about the mess. Let it slop out all over.

Perhaps I am being called to risk more of myself, not to protect my time (which half the time I then waste...), not to possess even that. Sine proprio as radical in its own way as Francis' and Clare's physical poverty?

Figgy

I did promise to post a picture of Figgy, the contemplative cat. This is she, in typical pose! (I hate to admit it, but that's my desk in typical pose as well...)

A special deformity of conscience?

There are crimes which no one would commit as an individual which he willingly and bravely commits when acting in the name of his society, because he has been (too easily) convinced that evil is entirely different when it is done ‘for the common good.’ As an example, one might point to the way in which racial hatreds and even persecution are admitted by people who consider themselves, and perhaps in some sense are, kind, tolerant, civilized and even humane. But they have acquired a special deformity of conscience as a result of their identification with their group, their immersion in their particular society. This deformation is the price they pay to forget and to exorcise that solitude which seems to them to be a demon.

From Disputed Questions by Thomas Merton
(Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, Publishers, New York, 1960) Page 183.

This quotation from Thomas Merton underlines what I was writing about in my 'E' Word post the other week. We, as Christians, the very people who ought to be immune to this sort of thing, practice it regularly as part of our denomination identity. In point of fact, it's very rare these days that we do it on racial grounds, but when we come to matters of conscience, or worse, matters of sexual identity, then we are right up there with the professionals. Consider the following quote from an Evangelical social concern website:

"Christians would never want to be homophobic or discriminate against homosexuals out of bigotry or prejudice. Christians of course earnestly desire the repentance and salvation of homosexuals. However, the Bible is clear that the only rightful sexual relationship for which we were created, is a relationship between a man and a woman. Consequently there are times when Christians need to be free to discriminate against homosexuals."

Really? Should we be free to discrminate against people? Again, I have to refer us to the popular wristband slogan, "What Would Jesus Do?"

Now remember, the Bible is far clearer about the only rightful sexual relationship between a man and a woman being within marriage than it is about homosexual relations. Yet, do we find Jesus "discriminating against" adulterers? Remember, he let one go off to act as the first recorded evangelist even before she had straightened out her tangled sex life (John 4:28-30) - and he saved another from the punishment decreed by the Law of Moses (John 8:3-11) using the extraordinary words, "Neither do I condemn you. Go your way, and from now on do not sin again." Forgiveness and counsel, even trust for ministry. I don't see discrimination there.

Remember, I'm writing about adultery, the only cause for which Jesus permitted divorce out of hand. A capital offence, according to the Law. Jesus said plenty against adultery, yet when confronted with actual adulterers, women adulterers at that, against whom his culture discriminated most rigorously, he behaved with the most astonishing love and generosity. About homosexuality he said not a recorded word, for or against; and yet we claim Scriptural warrant (a warrant which on careful analysis raises all manner of exegetical and hermeneutical questions - but that's another issue altogether - read this for one interesting point of view) to behave more harshly to homosexuals than Jesus did to adulterers. If anything qualifies as an example of Merton's "special deformity of conscience," I reckon that does.

Sine proprio...

People usually translate the Latin phrase sine proprio as "without property", or "poverty". But as Francis of Assisi used it, perhaps a better translation would be "without possessing".

Gordon Plumb, in an article in the Third Order Chronicle for Summer 2003, remarks that the words "... refer rather to a way of living without grasping (and are thus far more about attitudes and values than about intrinsic wealth or the lack of it)."

I've been increasing being challenged recently by the thought that God's call on my life is to prayer, and that my own Franciscan vocation is probably to be understood, at least in a great part, as living sine proprio anything else. There has been a process of stripping going on here that dates back at least to that occasion some years ago when I really asked God to let me know his Son, really know him, before anything else. It's since then that this has been going on, that everything I've tried to do that isn't at least in some sense prayer has just come to bits in my hands, to the point that I'm almost scared to touch anything in case I break it.
After all, every "career move", whether in the world or in the church, has fallen to nothing in ways that surely bear the imprint of God's hand, his holy and paradoxical way doing things that is so alien to us: "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the LORD" (Isaiah 55:8)

By now, the challenge is acute, almost a daily pain. It wakes me in the night; all my thoughts and desires are confronted by it, measured against it. It will not go away.

What I need to do now, I suppose, is to try, with the help and discernment of my Franciscan brothers and sisters, not to mention (as always!) Jan, to find out how this is to be lived practically. Following Francis following Christ is always an entirely practical exercise, however ridiculous that may seem to the average pair of eyes in the world!

I've been thinking...

I see it's over a week now since I posted here, and I know I've been a bit remiss.

I've been thinking, or at least attempting to think. I know there are connections, and if I could see what they are, I could make sense of something that's itching at the edges of my mind. The trouble is, I don't think I'd like that sense very much.

Anyway, I'd better tell you some of the things that have been flittering about, and just maybe writing them down will help put things into some sort of order at least. OK, let's make a list:

• It won't have escaped your notice that the British Government is going through something of a hard time at the moment, and the chrome on the New Labour wagon is blistering and flaking a little.
• Cruelty to animals is on the up & up in this country.
• The same sort of thing is happening with children, with the elderly, with people with learning disabilities and physical disabilities. The incidence of cases - well, reported cases anyway - of neglect and cruelty seems to be increasing.
• People trafficking is becoming a major industry in some places in the larger British cities, and the Police seem impotent to combat it.
  
• The racist BNP, the British National Party, has been making significant gains in the local elections, especially in some parts of London.
• The Liberal Democrats seem to have woken from their woozy Kennedy daze, and are looking around at the way things are...
• The Conservatives are publicly describing themselves as compassionate.
  
• Animal rescue centres are receiving increased donations, and increased interest from potential adopters. Their online presence is increasing, and this is helping animals to be re-homed who might otherwise remain in their pens.
• The same sort of thing is happening with charities dedicated to helping vulnerable people. Even Lottery funding is finding its way to these organisations.
• The religious right is becoming increasingly hardline in its response to sexual diversity, and even in some places to the (ordained) ministry of women in the church.
• Some churches, or Christian movements, which till very recently have been on the left - or progressive, or emergent (you fill in the rest) - wing of Evangelicalism, have been moving further right.
• The old, British modernist liberalism seems to be losing its grip on the imagination of the CofE.
• There is what I read as the beginnings of a kind of postmodernist Liberal Evangelicalism within said institution, and a little colour is coming back into its cheeks as a result. Even presumed Catholic institutions like the religious communities are catching some of it...
  
• I could go on, but that's quite enough for the moment.

What's going on here? Why are things polarising like this? What is going on in the spiritual realm to give rise to effects like this among us creatures of flesh and blood? Remember, "our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places." (Eph 6:12) Paul counsels us to "take up the whole armour of God..." (v. 13) and the very first part of that armour, as Paul describes it, is the belt of truth, and the second is the breastplate of righteousness.

Our prayer needs to be for truth and righteousness - or justice. At the beginning of Prayer Week 2006 let's remember that. Remember "...we live as human beings, but we do not wage war according to human standards; for the weapons of our warfare are not merely human, but they have divine power to destroy strongholds. We destroy arguments and every proud obstacle raised up against the knowledge of God, and we take every thought captive to obey Christ." (1 Cor 10:3-5)

Let's pray for truth and justice, in the world and in the church - but let's be prepared, like Paul, to stand up for them as well, and, if necessary, to take the consequences as God gives us grace (2 Cor 12:9) to allow his strength to be made perfect in our weakness...

Friday Five: Procrastination

I HAVE to do this one!

1. Guitar forums - endless hours not just exchanging tips & tricks with other guitarists the world over, but playing silly games of album cover consequences, guess the riff, and other enthralling pursuits ;-)
2. Guitar manufacturers' websites, guitar amplifier manufacturers' websites, guitar string manufacturers' websites, guitar accessory manufacturers' websites... you're getting the hang of it now?
3. Reading stuff I keep in the bathroom - computer mags, but mostly (how did you guess) guitar catalogues, guitar amplifier catalogues, guitar... Oh, you fill in the rest...
   
4. Rearranging my (computer) desktop - rearranging the real one? Not a hope...
5. Going up & down stairs several times because each time I 'forget' to bring something either up or down. No, really, this is a form of procrastination...

Things I don't do to procrastinate: cleaning things. Weeding the garden. Calling people I ought to call. Writing overdue letters, even emails...

H'mm. 12 steps, anyone?