Eternal Echoes

in the shadow of resurrection...

I am still mulling over my response to Easter this year, as I made my way through the gospel accounts of Holy Week, and as I encountered the Easter Story itself I was struck afresh by the power, the gentleness and the subversiveness of it. I got myself into trouble with one or two Church members by not beginning any of my Easter Sunday Services with the traditional shouts of "Alleluia Christ is risen", but rather with the quiet fear-filled story of the women at the tomb. We did come to the shouts of Alleluia, but they were framed by questions, and primarily the questions; "what has happened here?" an "what does this mean for me?"

If I am honest I am becoming more and more convinced that our propensity to demand certainties does not serve us well, and I fear that we sometimes treat Easter Day like a birthday party, lots of preparations, one big blow out and then back "to reality". My problem is that I do not believe that the true message of Easter allows us to go back to reality, for through it reality itself is changed. Nor do I believe that the resurrection message can be encountered through a once a year party, celebrating a one time event. Resurrection is ongoing, it should be unfolding and taking place in our lives day by day, it is surprising, confusing, demanding and at times down right scary.

There are times when we will resist resurrection, times when we will deny it or doubt that we can ever be a part of it, times when the story will leave us confused and disoriented. Perhaps at those times the we need to find our way back to the real power and simplicity of the story. C.S Lewis brings a fresh set of eyes to it through the Narnia stories;

"Susan and Lucy had just witnessed the horrific death of Aslan, and were now said to be “walking aimlessly,” unsure of how to proceed.

At that moment they heard from behind them a loud noise — a great cracking, deafening noise as if a giant had broken a giant’s plate…. The Stone Table was broken into two pieces by a great crack that ran down it from end to end; and there was no Aslan.

“Who’s done it?” cried Susan. “What does it mean? Is it more magic?”

“Yes!” said a great voice from behind their backs. “It is more magic.” They looked round. There, shining in the sunrise, larger than they had seen him before, shaking his mane (for it had apparently grown again) stood Aslan himself.

“Oh, Aslan!” cried both the children, staring up at him, almost as much frightened as they were glad….

“But what does it all mean?” asked Susan when they were somewhat calmer.

“It means,” said Aslan, “that though the Witch knew the Deep Magic, there is a magic deeper still which she did not know. Her knowledge goes back only to the dawn of time. But if she could have looked a little further back, into the stillness and the darkness before Time dawned, she would have read there a different incantation. She would have known that when a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor’s stead, the Table would crack and Death itself would start working backward.”

I wonder how often we try to cover our aimless wandering with a paper thin veneer of proclaimed certainties, how often we long to rush past the "deeper magic" , power and wonder of the resurrection accounts and get back to our daily lives lest they call us into the dramatic changes of our world-view and therefore our lifestyle, and even perhaps more challengingly the way we see ourselves and relate to others.

Resurrection is gentle but insistent if we dare to receive it as a work of the Spirit within us, through it God begins to reveal our true selves to us, peeling away our masks and falsehoods, and showing us that by some miracle we are at once unworthy, yet worthy of his love. Showing us that somehow even our past mistakes, sins and injuries can be transformed. The first disciples did not understand the fullness of what had happened among them. They were not able to produce a wonderfully inspiring three point sermon explaining it, not even Peter at Pentecost had everything buttoned down and sewn up.

What they did know however is that somehow all of this was centered on God's revelation of himself in Christ, and that somehow that revelation itself had been enlarged and changed as life overcame death and evil, pain and that somehow all of this had both personal and at the same time cosmic consequences. Even St Paul's conversion on the Damascus was not a neat, tidy sudden event, just read the account and meditate upon it. Not only was he blinded, but he spent 3 days in prayer and fasting before he was ready for Ananias prayer. Even then he spent time learning and praying, and his letters show his own grappling with the question "what has happened?"  Scripture does not perhaps offer us as many certaities as we assume, and I think that deep within we know this, maybe that is why we don't like to linger too long with it. 

So this year I have been challenged to linger a little longer in the shadow of the resurrection, for I long for the power of it to work a deeper magic within my soul, I need that deeper magic. A "magic" I cannot contain or fully explain, a work of God that asks me to dare to give myself to it, and that I need not fear it.

I will end with two quotes that offer no answers, but rather form an invitation to us all in different ways, an invitation to linger at the tomb of our own being, and to allow that tomb to become a womb of possibility where life itself might enter in;

“That is what mortals misunderstand. They say of some temporal suffering, ‘No future bliss can make up for it’ not knowing that Heaven, once attained, will work backwards and turn even that agony into a glory.” C.S.Lewis; The Great Divorce

"New life starts in the dark. Whether it is a seed in the ground, a baby in the womb, or Jesus in the tomb, it starts in the dark.”  Barbara Brown Taylor

 The question is, are we ready for life?

thinking outside the box (or trying to)

I don't even know how to begin this post, it comes from so many things that a stirring within me that and I have no real idea where it will go....

OK I'll start with this; this last weekend I gathered with a group of friends who are involved in ministry to the New Spirituality/ Pagan/ spiritually seeking arena; no surprises there I guess. I left that gathering (it is hard to call it a conference for it was so unique), with a sense of reconnection and joy but also a sense of frustration with myself, I'd wanted to say something, but I hadn't really had time to work it through within myself in order to present it coherently.

I  had wanted to ask questions about the way we might use the sacraments in a way that connected with the culture, told the story of Christ from creation to re-creation, and offered a physical, tangiable yet spiritual response. My thinking had been primarily centered upon the bread and wine of communion, but offering baptism might also be a possibiltiy...

Now I am not suggesting an unthought out rush into the local market place or shopping centre, but I am suggesting that there are occassions and contexts where we are able to share the story of God in the world, from creation to re-creation, the incarnation, ministry, crucifixion and resurrection of Christ, and we need to give people the opportunity to respond...

Imagine setting out to tell the story of God at a town festival, a music festival or something of that kind, tell the story in an imaginative and creative way, and people gather to listen. How then do we invite them to respond? They could come forward and recieve a tract, and prayer, and maybe those things are good, or we could break bread together...

Jesus did just that with the 5,000 who had gathered to hear his teaching, they were hungry, physically and spiritually, and recognising their hunger as a whole hunger Jesus fed them; the action of taking, breaking, giving thanks, distributing the bread and fish are replayed and  brought to fullness in the last supper, where the bread and the wine took on holy significance...

Would we be offering holy things to people who don't understand, just think for a moment, at the last supper Jesus shared bread with one who betrayed him, one who denied him, and several who ran for cover and hid as the terrible events of his trial and crucifixion unfolded. They didn't understand, and lets face it , we don't understand the depth of love that gave and gives itself so freely even now, and yet we receive, and as we do we are converted as we enter into the transforming and renewing and recreating purposes of God.

How about the one who comes to us with an extraordinary experience of God, and on hearing their story we cannot deny that is was of God, do we demand that they attend classes to prepare themselves, when do we welcome and accept?

Now I am not saying that we should neglect discipleship, but I am asking whether the sacraments could be offered in an outside of the box , a tangiable, physical way for people to meet with and respond to what the Spirit is stirring in their lives.

I find myself rooted in a tradition that offers and open table, and yet I find that many people feel that they are unworthy and excluded, they voice a spiritual need and a spiritual hunger that is not met, and as much as we might think that the table is open many people's perception is that is is closed; and frankly the "body language" of church is unhelpful.

So what I am asking is how do we make something open really open? How do we do away with the boundaries and barriers in our minds, I wonder if we have replaced the temple curtain with communion rails  and service books... If we've re-worded the open invitation to all who want to respond in a language that is exclusive and incomprehensible to many....

On the day of Pentecost many responded to Peter's message:

Cut to the quick, those who were there listening asked Peter and the other apostles, "Brothers! Brothers! So now what do we do?"

 ^38-39Peter said, "Change your life. Turn to God and be baptized, each of you, in the name of Jesus Christ, so your sins are forgiven. Receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. The promise is targeted to you and your children, but also to all who are far away—whomever, in fact, our Master God invites." (Acts 2)

Whoever God invites we are to welcome, and as God's ambassadors he makes the invitation through us... (2 Corinthians 5), but we are not inviting people to jump through hoops, to conform and to become like us, we are inviting them to respond to the one who is living bread, and living water, who calls us to worship him in Spirit and in truth, to the one who has compassion on all that he has made, the one who loves completely, sacrificially and powerfully! Too often I hear people voicing a belief in a God who excludes and punishes with harsh discipline those who do not live up to his exacting standards, and I struggle to reconcile this God with the one I have come to know, the one who says to us:

^28-30"Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly."

and:

 ¹³"Let me tell you why you are here. You're here to be salt-seasoning that brings out the God-flavors of this earth. If you lose your saltiness, how will people taste godliness? You've lost your usefulness and will end up in the garbage.

 ^14-16"Here's another way to put it: You're here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world. God is not a secret to be kept. We're going public with this, as public as a city on a hill. If I make you light-bearers, you don't think I'm going to hide you under a bucket, do you? I'm putting you on a light stand. Now that I've put you there on a hilltop, on a light stand—shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you'll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven.

None of this was said to people who "got it", invariably they didn't and they needed freeing from the rules they and others had made for themselves. When Jesus encountered the Samaritan woman at the well, she questioned him about the right place to worship, here is John's account of that part of the encounter:

" “Sir,” the woman said, “you must be a prophet. ²⁰ So tell me, why is it that you Jews insist that Jerusalem is the only place of worship, while we Samaritans claim it is here at Mount Gerizim, where our ancestors worshiped?”

²¹ Jesus replied, “Believe me, dear woman, the time is coming when it will no longer matter whether you worship the Father on this mountain or in Jerusalem. ²² You Samaritans know very little about the one you worship, while we Jews know all about him, for salvation comes through the Jews. ²³ But the time is coming—indeed it’s here now—when true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and in truth. The Father is looking for those who will worship him that way. ²⁴ For God is Spirit, so those who worship him must worship in spirit and in truth.”" (John 4)

Jesus broke down barriers and through boundaries, and opened a new way of worship, a new way of knowing God centered upon himself, and in doing so, set the good news free. I find this concept strangely offered again through a mathematical principle reclaimed as a missional model;  centered and bounded sets (many thanks to Steve Hollinghurst for introducing me to it). Frost and Hirsch pretty well sum it up here:

"In the bounded set, it is clear who is in and who is out (fences, not wells), based on a well-defined ideological-cultural boundary --usually moral and cultural codes as well as creedal definitions.. but it doesn't have much of a core definition beyond these boundaries. It is hard at the edges, soft at the center."

The centered set, on the other hand, "is like the Outback ranche with the wellspring at its center. It has very strong ideology at the center but no boundaries. It is hard at the center, soft at the edges. We suggest that in the centered set lies a real clue to the structuring of missional communities in the emerging culture.

"The traditional church makes it quite difficult for people to negotiate its maze of cultural, theological, and social barriers in order to get "in.".. and by the time newcomers have scaled the fences built around the church, they are so socialized as churchgoers that they are not likely to be able to maintain their connection with the social groupings they came from...

"We propose a better and more biblical way.. is to ... sink wells. If you sustain your connection with the water sources, you will find a whole host of people relating to Jesus from different walks of life. We allow people to come to Jesus from any direction and from any distance. The Person of Jesus stands.. at the center." (The Shaping of Things to Come)

So what am I saying about the sacraments? I believe that they open a door of powerful encounter with God, and that they can be used missionally, indeed that they are in some way;  for if it is the Holy Spirit who brings them to life, who are we to deny that gift to people wanting to respond to God, no matter where they are on their journey? Maybe we need to learn to become wellkeepers rather than spiritual bouncers....

 

 

 

Struggling God... (and my struggles to understand)

A couple of images have me wondering about the struggles of God, struggles of tension within God's self, this is partly a trinitarian reflection, and partly a reflection on how God contends with the brokeness of his/her creation, and I think the two are connected. It is probably best explained through the theological explanation of perichoresis, described here for us by St John of Damascus:

"The subsistences [i.e., the three Persons] dwell and are established firmly in one another. For they are inseparable and cannot part from one another, but keep to their separate courses within one another, without coalescing or mingling, but cleaving to each other. For the Son is in the Father and the Spirit: and the Spirit in the Father and the Son: and the Father in the Son and the Spirit, but there is no coalescence or commingling or confusion. And there is one and the same motion: for there is one impulse and one motion of the three subsistences, which is not to be observed in any created nature"

This three in one/one in three must produce a tension, and while this tension is often described as a divine dance or embrace I wonder if that dance/ embrace sometimes takes the form of a divine wrestling where love and wrath meet; now I know that wrath is not a popular attribute of God to be speaking of, for we prefer to keep God nice and acceptable. Writing in Exclusion and Embrace, Miroslav Volf wakes us from our cosseted slumber:

" It takes the quiet of a suburb for the birth of the thesis that human nonviolence is a result of a God who refuses to judge. In a scorched land–soaked in the blood of the innocent, the idea will invariably die, like other pleasant captivities of the liberal mind…if God were NOT angry at injustice and deception and did not make a final end of violence, that God would not be worthy of our worship. "

Volf again in a World magazine interview:

 “Love without wrath on account of harm inflicted on the beloved is mere sentimentality. That’s why God is wrathful in the face of human sin.”

Put simply, because God is love Gods wrath is against all and everything that marrs the image of love. We live in a violent world, that violence is both physical and more subtly mental- words can and do cause violence to out hearts and minds and souls. To God that violence against his beloved creation is intollerable, and he responds in justice or wrath, love and mercy or grace, and love holds both justice and grace, wrath and mercy in tension. The divine dance becomes a divine struggle, a movement of passion and longing that is echoed in a world that groans to be free. Perichoresis becomes then both a thing of beauty and of power, and we are embraced in it and through it. This contemplation of the glory of the Holy Trinity is restorative, and sadly lacking especially in evangelical circles. St Gregory Nazianzus says it best:

“No sooner do I conceive of the One than I am illumined by the splendor of the Three; no sooner do I distinguish them than I am carried back to the One. . . When I contemplate the Three together, I see but one torch, and cannot divide or measure out the undivided light.”

The blogger at Ars Theologica says:

The Church is a community defined by this same perichoresis. By the power of the Holy Spirit we are drawn up into the divine life, in which we move and flow and derive life, love, and spiritual power. In the words of the Apostle Paul, in the Triune Lord "we live and move and have our being" (Acts 17:28). The Church is only the Church when it is united in love with the Trinity, sharing in its perichoresis. C.S. Lewis perceptively noted that the "whole dance, or drama, or pattern of this three-Personal life is to be played out in each one of us" (The Weight of Glory, 153). I find this notion both thrilling and a source of profound peace.

So on to those images first this, a sculpture found at the Yorkshire Sculpture Park: Jonathan Borofsky's Molecule Man 1+1+1, Borofsky seees his role as asking questions of human life, for me Molecule Man provides an interesting alternative picture of the trinity as they embrace and wrestle with the tension of mercy, love and justice, grace, love and wrath none of which can be absent if one is to be present:

The second image is drawn by Tim, and for me picks up the whole theme in a different way:

Tim says:

Nehemiah 2:19-20, 4:1-9 &  John 16:25-33

For those of us training at St John’s Richard’s sermon was everything we expect of one of our lecturers, the wisdom of one who teaches on the Bible in Christian Ministry and  the Old Testament and delivered with a dry humour rooted in our common experience at St John’s. So not everyone got all the jokes. However, his exegesis of the passage and his critique of traditional christian uses of the Nehemiah passage led him to suggest a very plausible and acceptable understanding of the text.

The story of Nehemiah is essentially one of Jerusalem, the city of such hopes and dreams of the people of Israel. I fear that Nehemiah, with his vengeful prayer, doesn’t get a good review but there must be some good in a man who has vision, passion and determination to be the catalyst for renewal. If nothing else it shows that God has a place for all in building his Church. Essentially the thrust of Richard’s teaching was that Jesus is the fulfilment of all the hopes of God’s people that Jerusalem came to symbolise. For those that labour for God’s Kingdom opposition is inevitable and yet God will win the struggle because it is his fight and his kingdom. Christ says that we will face opposition but we should not be afraid because he has overcome the world. The secret of not missing those things hidden in the text is in the bread and the wine and the word.

The image uses the crown of thorns as an image of a wall. Within it, and on the crown of Christ’s head, three figures dance. The cross forms the facial features of Christ and so recognises that the New Jerusalem is founded on the cross of Christ. The image portrays the death and suffering of Christ indicating the cost Christ paid for his Church. Perhaps our reaction to those who oppose the renewal of God’s Church and the mission of his kingdom is found in the encounter with the crucified Christ, the living Word.

This illustrates that ongoing struggle for me both in and through our struggle to grapple with God we come face to face with the God who struggles on our behalf. We cannot embrace a God of love without finding ourselves caught up in his grace and mercy or his justice and wrath, and although the tension will one day be resolved that day is not yet, but we live in the hope of its arrival...

...when love will remain. I finish with a poem of mine written when I first began thinking about the Trinity in the light of perichoresis:

Can you hear

the unforced

rhythms of grace ?

 

Do you see

the heavenly

holy dancers?

 

Are you captivated

by the wonder,

freedom,

movement,

and life

that flows from their

uncreated song?

 

Can you hear the beating

of their hearts

as they whisper,

and shout;

proclaiming their love

for one another,

and

for you?

 

Do you yearn

to join the passionate

throng, to be

encircled in their midst?

 

For you are invited

to this wild, heavenly

ceilidh!

 

Will you dare to take

the outstretched hand,

kick off your shoes

and dance?

Thinking about my spiritual journey ( a condensed version...)

This afternoon I spent some time with my District Chair Stephen Burgess, we were discussing my Testimony Service for Synod on the 7th May. As I prepare for this I find that I am looking back and considering the road that my faith has taken, and how I began to discern a call to ordained ministry.

Regular readers of this blog will not be surprised to be pointed to Christopher's story as a very real turning point for me, it was a turning point of trust and faith, the discovery of a God who loved me in-spite of myself, but my conscious journey of faith began before that, growing from my delight in a Primary School Hymn Book, to my desire not only to own a Bible  but to read it from cover to cover...

That said I had no idea what Christianity was all about, although I knew some of the "Jesus " stories to allow them to challenge or change was not even a thought on the far horizon.

My church experience began in Nottinghamshire at the age of 12, where I attended a local Pathfinders group, a move to Essex and a break from church for a few years until I became involved in helping at a local Cub Scout Pack and began to attend Parade Services, this led to a weekly attendance at a local village church, and a real desire to belong was kindled within me.

As a young (unmarried to start with) mother, I continued to attend church, and my first three children were all baptised. Tim was happy for this, and we began to attend special services as a family. All of my church experience so far was Anglican, although that had not crossed my mind at the time.

A move to a small costal village in Essex co-incided with Christopher's diagnosis, and the church family in the village, Anglican, Catholic and Congregational, stepped in to help out. This practical out-pouring of support had a very real effect upon me. As a family we began to attend the local Congregational Church, joined Bible Study Groups, and learnt to pray! 

A call to evangelism soon followed, and it was then that I encountered one of the great obstacles to being a woman and being called to ministry. It was OK in many folks eyes for me to be involved on a local level providing that I did not want to preach, or perish the thought get involved in mission activities that meant leaving our children in Tim's care for a week. I was told at one point that I was stealing my husbands ministry...

Even the mission group who welcomed me to join their teams, and even to take a leadership role had a this far no further policy, although many people in the organisation recognised my leadership gifts I could not be a team leader, it was against policy; and they could back it up with reasonable sounding theology- theology I now profoundly disagree with!

Next came a move to Texas, and an encounter with the Bible Belt... we attended a Baptist Church, way too big and too polished, and the womens ministry groups made my toes curl- sexism reigned! My task in life I was told was to support my husband and to look good... ( yes really), we left that church. Then came a free church, another large congregation where although participation was encouraged I met a similar problem, so many things were off limits to women. The poem below was written about my utter frustration at the confining attitudes I met within this particular congregation, and yes I really did hurl my Bible across the car-park!

Still in Texas and we joined an Episcopal Church, here the Pastor was an inspiration, he was a man of prayer and vision and in the short time we were members there I learnt so much about integrity and ministry.

Back to England and a move to Colchester, and back to an Anglican Church, again it was big, and although we became involved it was never a spiritual home. Soon we moved back to the village on the coast and re-joined the Congregational Church, we had changed a lot, but in many ways we were home, and it was from here that Tim and I were encouraged to take up a course of study in Evangelism and Mission, at the same time Tim had been made redundant twice within 3 years and with no work opening up for him in electronics we needed to look to something new. The course of study led me in an entirely different direction and into some very strange encounters...

A move to Methodist Circuit in , Norfolk, and the beginnings of a love hate love affair with Methodism. We were employed as Community Out-reach Workers,  it was wonderful, and it drove me crazy. The big choice came at Spring Harvest one year, we had taken a number of teenagers with us and had been working for the church for 3 years at this point. The choice was stark, candidate for ordained ministry or leave.... commit or walk away. This was not an ultimatum issued by the church, but a personal struggle.

I offered for Foundation Training and to my astonishment I was accepted, two years with ERMC training part time followed. I was challenged and stretched and grew. Back to the interview pannels, and Circuit, District and Connexion all said yes unanimously, two more years with ERMC and the chance to study for an M.A. which I thoroughly enjoyed...

Interestingly training with an eccumenical course really helped me to discover why Methodism was the place I now called home, both theologically with its' Arminian roots and its emphasis on prevenient grace, practically with its strong call to social justice and community and global involement and responsibility, and dare I say administratively with its emphasis on every member ministry and discipleship, Methodism made sense to me- and yes it still drives me crazy!

Through Methodism's emphasis on grace I was able to really grasp that the God who called me did not call me to be perfect before I could serve him, rather s/he called me to begin a work in and through me, to be open to transformation within as the Holy Spirit guided and equipped me, to be open to that guidance with the "pruning" and training that it might bring.

I was Stationed in the Snaith,  and Selby Circuit in September 2009, and all being well I will be Ordained on the 3rd July this year in Liverpool...

On a personal note my journey has been challenging, I grew up under the sound of the call to worship from a local Mosque in Malaysia rather than Englis Church Bells, though they did come later when my parents returend home to England with us and we lived for a while opposite the Parish Church in Deeping St James ( I have never been inside it!)...

I lived on a pig farm in Essex struggling to come to terms with my parents divorce, muddling love and sex in search for belonging I found that even here God was with me, as I married the father of my first child, he is the father of all the others also, and we have been married for almost 30 years now. In many ways we grew up with our children, having responsibility for them made us responsible and taught us to pray. Tim is currently training at Durham St John and is a Student Deacon in the Methodist Diaconal Order...

The poem below marked a turning point for me, a day when I threw my frustrations at a narrow confining theology across a church car park, and never looked back...

 

 

This Bible is worn and battered;

Like my faith is torn in places,

And like may faith it has been well used.

 

Every page has been read in this Bible,

Each word scanned and poured over

It was my companion through hard times.

 

But that did not stop me hurling the damn thing

Clean across the car park

In an outpouring of frustration!

 

My faith went with it that day

And everything changed;

For I no longer held to brittle man made rules

 

Rules that told me how to pray

How to give,

And how to behave.

 

Rules that gave rules to God

Telling him how to respond to his childrens cries

 

These words have taught me well that there is another way

A true way for those who have ears to hear

And eyes to see…

 

For God will not be bound by our rules

Nor will he always smooth the path before us

 

But he will walk it with us

And does,

Whether we choose to take his hand

Or refuse it and stride on alone!

 

My journey of faith will continue to be a pilgrimage, I have no doubt about that! And I still have that Bible...

 

Resurrection, recovery, and transformation... ( thoughts on time, and life )

Several thoughts coming together here, and all centred on resurrection and recovery...

On Easter Sunday I preached on the transformational possibilities released through the resurrection, how the risen and transformed Christ reveals to us the possibility of resurrection and transformation in our own lives. I used the (often used) illustration of a butterfly, noting that it begins life as a caterpillar and has to go through the transformation process by entering into the chrysalis where everything is in flux. In fact everything becomes a messy goop, and it is out of the mess that the new creature emerges. That emergence comes with a struggle, and the butterfly gains its strength through the struggle to emerge, to "help" a butterfly to break free from it's chrysalis tomb by opening it so that struggle is not needed will result in a weak and deficient creature that will never reach its full potential and soar!

Continuing to think along these lines I begin to wonder if we often rush the mystery of Easter and all too readily plunge back into the ordinary life. How easily we move in just three days from O Sacred Head Sore Wounded to Thine be the Glory, and yet a careful reading of the gospels reveals to us the doubts and fears that the disciples experienced in the days following the resurrection. Many times Jesus was not recognised, and his appearance though it certainly evoked joy, sometimes brought about terror and questions. 

Luke 24 tells us:

"just as they were telling about it, Jesus himself was suddenly standing there among them. “Peace be with you,” he said.  But the whole group was startled and frightened, thinking they were seeing a ghost!"

Matthew 28:

"When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted."

John 20:

"At this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not realize that it was Jesus."

These and other descriptions of those first encounters reveal fear, doubt, and questions, writing today Maggi Dawn says:

"Whatever the resurrection meant, exactly, it didn’t mean that everything was back to normal. It meant that hope had not died with him; it meant that all their categories of thought had to be adjusted around this new situation. But in practical terms? perhaps it meant that something very new and amazing was breaking out, but perhaps it meant that they were to go home and resume normal life.

What to do? and how to live? It wasn’t clear at all. One gospeller tells us that some of them went back to Galilee and their fishing business. Another says they waited in Jerusalem. Hanging about, or plodding through life’s daily events, the resurrection had certainly not changed their lives in an instant, like winning the lottery or something."

Their lives were not changed in an instant, the events of Jesus life now needed re-framing in an entirely new way, death had been defeated, something new had begun, and in some ways the church in all its diversity is still grappling with what all of this means. 

We live in such an instant world that all too often we miss the depths of mystery that the Easter Gospels reveal to us, we don't dwell with the disciples in their fears and doubts, we want to move on to rush to proclaim the good news before we have grasped what the good news is...

And the truth is that the disciples had to wait with and dwell in this messy place of flux until Pentecost...

...and dare I say beyond Pentecost...

I wonder if an appropriate picture for the church should be of the chrysalis. Could it be that in daring to choose to be in Christ that we enter the tomb ( the chrysalis) with him and this is where we still are in many real senses, we are not yet what we will be, but all of the ingredients, all of the potential is there. And yet because he is raised we are raised and are actively called to be his body on earth, to reveal and live his resurrection to the world...

No wonder we get confused! 

So where did the thoughts on depression come from and why are they in this blog post title..?

A while ago I blogged on Mike Yardy and depression, and was encouraged by not only his openness and honesty regarding his illness, but also by Hugh Morris, the English team coach who was reported as saying:

 "Yardy would be given the full support of everyone connected with the national team....... our priority now is to ensure that he returns home to his family and is able to spend time recovering with a strong support network around him"

Today Sussex head Coach Mark Robinson has been reported as saying:

"But it is just like anybody being injured. You have to give them time to heal properly and what you don’t want to do is rush them back so that they have a recurrence of the injury. It’s the same for Yards."

Time to heal, time to heal from depression, time to heal from shock and grief....

Time...

For Yardy, the time to heal is crucial, and so it was for the disciples, and dare I say so it is for the church today. We have just plunged ourselves headlong into an intense week, re-living the events of The Passion and Easter, if we have done so lightly then we may just skim along, but if we have been touched by the mystery, challenged afresh by the possibilities, awed by the depth of love, and wonder of resurrection power, then maybe just maybe we need time...

Time to take it in, time to heal, time to ponder and wonder, to dwell with our doubts and fears, to re-emerge stronger and closer to God somehow...

Who is the Holy Spirit?- Looking for images....

I have been preparing a meditation on the Holy Spirit for a presentation this afternoon and have used loads of imagery, so just a question which of these images speaks  to you most clearly the Holy Spirit and why?

 

 

Which one do you think speaks to the need of our world today?

Starange dreams, the Lord's Table and other Communion related ponderings

I had a night of strange dreams last night, and all of them centered around the practice of Holy Communion/ Lords Supper/ Eucharist/... the fact that there are so many ways of naming it is confusing from the outset. I seemed to be floating from one situation to another trying to derive meaning from what we do. This may be partly reflective of my journey through a number of different denominations all of whom place different levels of importance and stresses on practice; Congregationalist, Baptist, Episcopalian, various flavours of Free Church, Anglican and finally Methodist, and even then each local situation is different.

When I think about different Chapels in this Circuit some have prominent tables, some have little more than shelves, some are central, others to the side, and others are dwarfed by enormous pulpits. Some set  the table with a plate  a decent sized roll and a chalice ( even if it is not used beyond being a visual representation) while others dice up tiny pieces of white sliced bread and only have thimble sized "cups".

Different emphases are placed on the importance of receiving communion too, I have a few members from a Primitive Methodist background who don't receive at all because they can't see the point. I'm not sure why as even the Prims administered communion to their members, although again local practice varied, we have talked about it and they say they might receive if they feel it is right... who am I to argue?

So as I head of to preside this morning I am pondering what is important to me and why, this is a continuation of my musings over the last few years, you can find previous posts here and here there are more but they sum up my thinking quite well.

So why another post? Well my dreams highlighted for me the importance of Holy Communion, and my desire that others should also find it meaningful and through it enter into a real encounter with the living God. I think that is why I am concerned about practice. I don't like using diced up sliced bread, and am not happy if the only cup on the table is thimble sized, as for the table, then I want there to be a proper table...

Why these specific preferences, quite simply because I believe that these elements enhance the telling of the story, to stand at a table and lift a plate and a chalice, to lift and tear open a small loaf of bread, all of these things are visual reminders. Important visual cues that help us to place ourselves into the story, to become invited guests and friends at Jesus table. I also value the set liturgy of the church (Methodist in my case) which does more than tell the story of the last supper by inviting us to affirm our faith and reminding us of the holiness of the sacrament. Each time I lead the Great prayer of Thanksgiving I am humbled and awed by it; today these words becme particularly significant:

When we wandered from you in our sin

you sought us out with your steadfast love,

and did not give us up.

(Methodist Worship Book; Easter Season pg 169)

So why am I pondering this in the midst of what may seem to some more important stuff, when the country is preparing to go to the polls, when wars prevail, and when the skies of Europe are a no fly zone? Well quite simply because in order to deal with and think about all of that stuff I feel the need to be centered, and Holy Communion centres me, it calls me back to the source of my faith and then sends me out again nourished and recommissioned. It stands at the centre of the rhythm of faith reminding me of its source and purpose, and it requires me to reconnect with the living God through the elements. Yes reading the Scriptures and prayer do this, but it is at the table that I find the centre, and at the table where I am reminded again that heaven truly has touched earth. 

Children stretching my theology....

I had the great privilege of welcoming two year 5 and 6 from one of our local Primary Schools into the church today. They were full of curiosity and questions, and were quite fascinated by our relatively modern building, but more fascinated by the stories that lie behind some of our practices such as the story of the Last Supper and of Jesus baptism.

They wanted to know why we had an empty cross on the wall rather than a crucifix like the ones they had seen at both the Anglican and Catholic churches in the village...

They wanted to know why we have a table and not an altar...

... and why we use real bread and not wafers...

...and of course why our wine wasn't real...

They wanted to know if the water in the font was special, and whether they could put their fingers in it...

...they wanted to know if we sang the same hymns and said the same prayers as the other churches, and whether God minds that churches do things in different ways...

Children are great at stretching your theology; and that last question got me thinking, I hope my answer made some sense. I told them that each of us had a slightly different view of who God was, and that sometimes people understand the stories from the Bible in different ways, but that the truth is that each of us sees and understands only a part of who God is, but my hope is that one day we would see and understand more clearly, and that I think we are all in for some surprises!

When I got home I took a fresh look at this weeks lectionary readings and the reading from Isaiah 6: 1-13 struck me afresh; God is so vast and so glorious that just the train or hem of his robe is enough to fill the temple with unimaginable glory! Add to this picture the fearsome and magnificent angels ( not chubby cherubs) flying back and forth proclaiming God's greatness and it is perhaps easy to see why Isaiah felt that he should have been struck dead, and was certainly struck dumb.

I wonder sometimes if in our rush to explain things to others that we reduce our vision of God sometimes, that we forget his glorious complexity, and his utter uncontainability- his ways are so much higher than ours, as are his thoughts (Isaiah 55), not only that but even his thoughts towards us out number the grains of sand upon the sea shore ( Psalm 139)...

What if we have caught merely a glimpse of who God is, what if we have only caught a glimpse of the hem of his robe? Yes he has revealed himself to us in Christ, but there are depths and glories in Christ's teaching that I have only scratched the surface of...

Like Isaiah I find myself crying "woe is me, I am lost, and like Isaiah I find that God does not wipe me out, but rather charges me with following him and proclaiming his word, it is God who purifies me, who cleanses me and calls me to follow...

...could it be that as he turns to lead me forward that I will catch within the hem of his robe a glimpse of colours and depths that I have not encountered yet?

I have run out of words... perhaps that is a good thing!

I'll leave you with the lyrics from Chris Rice song Wind and Spirit:

I hear a sound and turn to see a new direction on that rusty weather vane
Suddenly the dead brown leaves are stirred to scratch their circle dances down the lane
And now the sturdy oaks start clappin’ with the last few stubborn leaves that won’t let go
I can hear Old Glory snappin’ and her tattered rope now clangin’ against the pole
And my breath is snatched away
And a tear comes to my eye
Feels like somethin’s on the way so I look up to the sky, I look up to the sky and...

From the corners of creation
Comes the Father’s holy breath
Ridin’ on a storm with tender fierceness
Stirring my soul to holiness
Stirring my soul to holiness

I see the lifeless dust now resurrected, swirling up against my window pane
And carried ‘cross the distance comes the long awaited fragrances of earth and rain
And out across the amber field the slender grasses bend and bow and kiss the ground
And in them I see the beauty of the soul’s who let the Spirit lay them down
And it takes my breath away
And a tear comes to my eye
Feels like somethin’s on the way, so I look up to the sky, I look up to the sky and...

From the corners of creation
Comes the Father’s holy breath
Ridin’ on a storm with tender fierceness
Stirring my soul to holiness
Stirring my soul to holiness

And like a mighty wind blows with a force I cannot see
I will open wide my wings, I will open wide my wings
I will open wide my wings and let the Spirit carry me

From the corners of creation
Comes the Father’s holy breath
Ridin’ on a storm with tender fierceness
Stirring my soul to holiness
Stirring my soul to holiness...

My prayer;

Come Holy Spirit, give me a fresh glimpse of the glory of God, stir my soul to holiness....

Picture from The Hubble Space Telescope

Forward from advent- creating apocalyptic expectations.

It is that time of year, busyness takes over, in the next three weeks I have fourteen services to lead, and twelve sermons to preach, some of them will be light, and others more serious. Slowly but surely the message of the incarnation is mixing with the theme of advent. Hope is beckoning those who have intentionally entered the desert, reminding us of the mystery and wonder of the God who took on flesh. As these themes mix I pray that I will not leave the Christ Child in the manger and preach a safe and domesticated message. I cringed this afternoon as folk sang again the words from Once in Royal David's City;

"Christian children all must be

Mild, obedient, good as He"

Was Jesus mild and obedient? Was he the almost invisible Victorian child that this carol portrays? I honestly don't know, but I hope not! I hope that he played boisterous games, and laughed with his friends. I hope that he knew the joy of running through the grass with the wind on his face, and the exhilaration of diving into a cooling stream...

But I am aware that some folk will find those thoughts shocking, that for some Jesus is as real and vibrant as an alabaster statue, something beautiful perhaps but unreal and untouchable. It is interesting that the carol goes on to acknowledge that he did know tears and smiles and cares for us because he understands us ( maybe it is not so bad after all!!!).

I believe that it is essential that we engage with the fully human fully divine Jesus without rendering him safe and comfortable, the stuff of greeting card verses. Because of this I will cling for as long as I can to the wild themes of advent, to the message that calls me to look beyond both the manger and the cross to the risen Christ who we believe WILL come again, it reminds me that the spark of life that once inhabited a virgins womb now dwells in heavenly splendor, he is not gone, he is alive over 2,000 years later!

The wonder of that should draw me to my knees to pray not only for myself but for this world and it's people who so often groan under the weight of oppression and injustice. Dave Perryquoted from John Dominic Crossnans "Jesus a revolutionary biography" today highlighting the role of John the Baptist;

“When people came to him, he kept sending them back from the wilderness, through the Jordan, which washed away their sins, and, purified and ready, into the Promised Land, there to await the imminent coming of the redeeming and avenging God. What he was forming, in other words, was a giant system of sanctified individuals, a huge web of apocalyptic expectations, a network of ticking time-bombs all over the Jewish homeland.”

I love the thought of the creation of ticking time bombs of apocalyptic expectations, there is so much power and potential in that illustration, before the people could be sent by John they had to come out to him. The Scriptures tell us that they flocked to him, and he did not simply speak to them he demanded a response, and when they responded he baptised them.

I wonder how often in our preaching and in our conversations we refrain from challenge and provocation simply to remain safe, how often we draw back from speaking the words that  not only call forth the hunger in our hearers, but actually lead them to make a response. John baptised those who chose to turn from their sins and sent them back to their towns and villages as people who were filled with expectation and anticipation, as people who had caught a fresh glimpse of hope, as people who were looking for Christ's coming....

I believe that we cannot remain at the manger this Christmas time, and what better way to journey through advent than to pray that those apocalyptic expectations might be re-awakened within us, and that we might have the courage to give voice to them again!

Being myself with integrity ....(thoughts on worship and practice, esp. concerning the Lords Supper/ Eucharist)

A caveat for this post is that the opinions and preferences expressed are my opinions , and do not  represent the opinions and views of the whole of the Methodist Church in Great Britain, some may in fact be quite unique to me!

I have been mulling over this post for the last day or so, and think that perhaps the only way to collect my thoughts together is to go ahead and write it. Last weekend I was privileged to be present as some of my friends were ordained either as Deacons or Priests in the Anglican Church. The first group of ordinations I attended were set in Ely Cathedral and carried out with much pomp and ceremony as fitted the occasion and the place. The robes were splendid, the liturgy was solemn and yet celebratory and the music from the organist and the choir was wonderful. I enjoyed being there, but to borrow a phrase from Dave Perry, who is currently District Chair for Lincoln and Grimsby ( who was speaking on a not entirely disconnected matter) ".....As a Methodist (almost) presbyter, .... I found myself in a foreign land....."

On Sunday I set of early in the morning in order to be able to attend my good friend Mike Bursell's ordination, the bonus was that Iain Bendry another friend from ERMCwas also being ordained. Not quite the grandeur of Ely Cathedral this time, but the more intimate setting of St Andrew's Church Halstead. The ceremony was still very much in evidence however with all of the clergy robing for the occasion, processions in order of precedence and much more besides. Whilst I appreciate the solemnity of such occasionss and even believe that it is right and proper there were some elements again through which  "....As a Methodist (almost) presbyter....I found myself in a foreign land...."

Practices such as reverencing the altar are foreign to me, I smile because Mike refered to it as a table several times in conversation so there is hope for him yet. I do believe that the table is no ordinary table, but becomes for us a sacred table and reminds us of the sacramental nature of our worship even when the service being conducted is a service of the word. To reverence the table for me would be to reverence a symbol, and therefore unnecessary, and potentially unhelpful.

On Sunday afternoon I felt honoured and privileged to assist Mike in his first Mass, and have to admit that there is very little difference in the Eucharistic liturgies that we use at first glance. Rather than going into what could be a very long explanation and exploration now I will wait to see how this conversation develops. What I will do is say what is important to me about the Eucharistic Service.

1. We receive the sacrament in response to the word of God and at his invitation. Although we bring to the table the elements of bread and wine the invitation is given by God and we respond to God. The word read ( and preferably preached upon ) is an important part of the whole liturgy for me. Interesting because as Methodists we do not usually stand to hear the gospel read, and if I were to adopt any of the practices from Sunday that are not currently my own then this would probably be one. This is because I do acknowledge the uniqueness, importance and relevance of the gospels in relation to the incarnation ( God as Christ).
2. The invitation to receive the elements needs to be heard as if it were given by Christ himself. For me this is an intimate meal, a thin place ( yes I am getting all celtic) where heaven and earth meet.
3. We meet to participate in an active remembrance, understanding and embodying through our intention and actions what we have inherited from those who went before us. To quote the Methodist publication Share this Feast:            " (we) re-enact the story and allow its meaning and power to shape our actions in the present world."
4. The meal to which we are invited is a communal meal, this is highlighted in the Methodist liturgy where possible by the act of waiting together "table by table" for each group to be served, and then receiving together a blessing through the presbyter who has officiated.
5. I believe in the transformative power of the reception of the elements, into which the Holy Spirit has poured life and power.
6. The Eucharistic prayer should be a drama, let me explain, we act out and respond to the invitation of God in Christ to actively remember and receive from him. Therefore gestures and elevations etc are important, however I do not see them as a prescribed and set in stone group of enactions, my practicce may differ from one service to another and from one liturgy to another.
7. I like to use creative liturgies ( Iona, Northumbria, and variations on both which I have constructed), but maintain that they must contain elements of confession, and thanksgiving, and that the Eucharistic prayer itself must maintain its integrity ( words of institution and the epiclesis).
8. For mysefl I would prefer the elements to consist of real bread which can be torn and broken, and for all to share from the same loaf, and for real wine served from a chalice.... which just goes to show that I am a mixture, and will remain constrained by tradition, but willing to take it to its limits!

I am very aware that this list could go on and on, and so I leave it now in the hope that it will open a conversation, and will finish with a poem/ prayer that I have posted before.

 

 

Eucharistic thoughts

.

I want to meet you

in chewable chunks of grace,

to savour the flavour

of your gift…

.

I want to spend time

contemplating the wonder

of your givenness,

I want to be

nourished, challenged

and transformed!

.

I want to gulp down

deep draughts

of your love,

to feel it’s fire

filling my heart and soul

warming my bones!

.

I want to be cleansed

and restored

as I meet you

in the brokenness of bread,

and in the cup freely offered.

.

I want to go different,

to be different!

Will you meet me here?

.

Is it right that

I should leave your table

still hungry?