Day 37 - Still the world Passes by

Wonderful evening last night spent at St Martin's in the Fields with a friend. The plan was to have a meal and attend a concert, but it all turned into much more. On arrival in the crypt our eyes were drawn to an exhibition deeper down in the basement. A Last Supper by Lorna May Wadsworth was the painting on display, along with various others of figures which formed the characters in the main painting. This picture is a modern Christian altarpiece, produced for St George's Church, Nailsworth in Gloucestershire and will be installed later in April. Not only was the painting stunning, it was interesting, with some of the characters set around the table, not quite as they appear in traditional works of art. 'This is a hidden treasure' remarked one lady looking at the painting.

A meal was followed by a Concert for Holy Week performed by the choir Vivamus. It included Faure's Requiem, Albinoni's Adagio in G minor on the organ and Allegri's Miserere. The gloomy subject of sin and death, being recast through beautiful music and soaring voices. It was a great opportunity to sit and ponder the depths of the passion, and how it connects with the depths of the human condition.

So there we were in the middle of one of the busiest places in London, being drawn profoundly into the love and passion of Christ. The noise of sirens pierced through the melodic sounds, tube trains rumbled below - and yet the centre was stilled, at that time, in that place for a moment and the world with all its pressures and frenetic activity were just distant echoes. Yet, life went on...as it did the first Holy Week...it still goes on today. All our church politics, our hours spent in planning, our parish minutiae are totally irrelevant to the world outside, in the same way that what was going on in St Martin's was a million miles away from what occupied the minds last night of millions of Londoners.

Holy Week for me heightens that contrast, but it also convinces me even more of the need to break through the worldliness with the prophetic other. St Martin's does that very well - all those who enter into its prayerful surroundings, find themselves confronted by sacred art, or beautiful music, being served great food in beautiful surroundings, all in the name of a loving God. Churches in our land, contain so many hidden treasures which that lady discovered, and open their doors as an extension of the welcome that Christ gives. It makes me more committed to singing the Lord's song in a strange land. Often I do not logically know why, but something deep within convinces me of it. The path of the cross is often a lonely and misunderstood journey, but for those of us called to take it, it is a path we cannot help but walk and invite others to join with us in.

As Poulenc put to music last night:

Hear, O Lord, my prayer, for you are my refuge and my succour, all-powerful Lord and I invoke Thee: let me never be confounded.

Day 36 - Lessons to be learned

Brother Lawrence has been my inspiration throughout Lent, as I have attempted to practise the presence of God in my life, so it is to him I turn this Tuesday of Holy Week.

I am aware that his experience was certainly very different from mine. He would have known the joy of a supportive fellowship as he joined in regular worship in the Carmelite monastery. Each day would have ended with the plainchant of the service of Compline and that moving prayer 'Be present, O merciful God, and protect us through the silent hours of this night, so that we who are wearied by the changes and chances of this fleeting world may rest upon your eternal changelessness.' I compare this renewing rhythm of life to the frenetic lifestyle most of us attempt to live. Yes, Brother Lawrence had a bit of a head start!

Yet, he can teach us many truths for our own ongoing life of faith. Brother Lawrence was acutely aware of his own shortcomings, but they did not cause him to grovel before God or become introspective. Instead it drew from him songs of praise, awe and thanksgiving. Part of confession for him was to recognise that God's goodness is greater than our failings, so we need to accept his joy in loving and forgiving us.

Right up to the moment of his death Brother Lawrence was aware of the goodness of God strengthening him every step of the way. He encourages us to similarly feast on God's goodness. This he says generates faith, hope and love. All three constitute food for our journey. In his writing he makes this memorable claim:

Everything is possible to those who believe, Even more is possible to those
who hope
Still more is possible to those who love, More and more is possible to those who
practice and persevere

By his eightieth year Brother Lawrence had grown rich in faith. Such faith, he insisted germinates and grows in the hearts that are aware of the presence of God in the middle of the pressures of life. Two weeks before he died, while he was suffering considerable pain, we find rising from within him that same well-spring of confidence that cried: If only we knew how much he loves us, we should always be ready to receive from his hand both the bitter and sweet. Then we shall discover that even dark and difficult things would become sweet and pleasing.

Brother Lawrence encourages us to savour and worship God in the depths of our hearts, no matter what we are doing. He suggests that, no matter what is occupying our minds and our hands, since we know that God is with us - that he indwells us - we should pause from time to time to praise him, pray to him or offer him our heart in thanksgiving.

On his deathbed, as through life, Brother Lawrence was acutely aware of the presence of God who loved him. Even when in pain, his face and speech were filled with joy. He told those who visited him that although he was in pain, his spirit was happy and contented. After he had received the sacraments, his response when one of his brothers asked him what occupied his mind was ' I am doing what I shall do, through all eternity - blessing God, praising God, adoring God, giving him the love of my whole heart.'

So I leave Brother Lawrence with his dying words, when he wished he had known God sooner in his life. 'Believe me' he said 'you can count as lost each day you have not used in loving God.'

And for myself...I am drawn back to Psalm 27

The Lord us my light and my salvation; whom then shall I fear ?
The Lord is the strength of my life; of whom then shall I be afraid?

That's more than enough for me to ponder on and be challenged about today.....

Day 35 - Remember

We have now stepped into Holy Week. The changing mood of Palm Sunday is behind us and we set our faces towards the cross. It's an inbetween time, anticipating what's coming but we are not quite there yet.

Life has many inbetween times, times when we are not quite at ease with everything. Times perhaps when we know we are going to be moving on, but have to still focus on the work in hand; times when things that were once clear cut and understandable now feel less so; times when a crisis has occurred which still needs working through; the time between death and the funeral; the period of depression; the awful situation which we cannot get out of; the time between the appointment and the diagnosis; times when we know something is going to happen, but we are not sure what; times when it is extremely difficult to practise the presence of God.

These are waiting times with a difference - emotionally we cannot disengage, we have no energy for creativity, we are caught up in the turmoil of the moment. Two words often come to mind when thinking about how we handle those difficult moments 'Hope' and 'Remembrance'. The first, though often takes a degree of faith that many of us do not have in certain tough situations. I went through a couple of short periods of depression earlier in my life, and tried to cling on to the fact that one day the sun will indeed shine again, one day I will feel happier - yet found it almost impossible to do so. It takes every ounce of belief to convince oneself that everything will turn out alright. However, 'hope' can be kept alive by the second word 'remembrance.'

From Old Testament times God commanded his people to 'remember'. To remember their deliverance, to remember how God had provided for them, to remember the promises he has made. He knew that when things got difficult they would have to trust the future in the light of what has happened in the past. Time and time again, we read, that the people forgot. They forgot what God had done, and forgot him, turning to other means to rescue them. So in our bleaker moments, we are called to remember what God has done in the past so we can have hope for the future.

At a service tonight I am preaching on the passage chosen by the new Rector Isaiah 61 'The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me....' This important passage became Jesus' manifesto and it brings us a challenge particularly during Holy Week. Yesterday, I wrote about our interactive Bible study. Everyone involved - the crowd, the high priests, the disciples and Jesus - all expressed feeling perplexed after the events of Palm Sunday. Today I read these words from Luke ' As he came near and saw the city, he wept over it, saying, 'If you, even you, had only recognised on this day the things that make for peace.' Everyone had failed to remember those earlier promises in those difficult last days.

Hope of the resurrection does lie somewhere ahead...but for many is blurred by confusion, tears, doubt, paralysis and emptiness......it would be easy to turn elsewhere......but by remembering what God has done, or the good of the past, and trusting that for the future, we have all we need to keep going.

Palm Sunday - Sensing the drama unfold

Holy week begins... strangely enough with a sudden shift an hour forward with the move to British Summer Time.... so already we are startled into something different.

Holy week isn't something we can just read about, it is rather about engaging all our senses in the sights and sounds, the tastes and smells, as we journey along. It begins with the triumphal entry into Jerusalem with donkeys, and palms and cheers. Yesterday Bishop John led members of the Bishop's Council in an interactive Bible study with small groups entering into the role of a particular character in that Palm Sunday scene, which included the turning of the tables in the temple, and Jesus healing the lame and sick. Not only did it get us to look at one particular gospel account, but helped us see the various participants in different ways, as we challenged them and asked them questions from our own particular perspective. We encountered the fickle crowd, looking for some exciting action, the high priests committed to an old order and not wanting it destroyed, the confused disciples - some wanting a revolution but not in the way it was played out, others perplexed by the change in pace, and then Jesus, doing his Father's will, draw to the city of the King and its temple.

Holy week for me as a parish priest was definitely the busiest week of the year - and has usually meant hours of preparation to ensure that others get the most from the drama from Palm Sunday to Easter Sunday. For many I know there will have been the ordering of palm crosses, the distribution of passion gospels, the setting up of stations of the cross, perhaps there are preparations for a Seder meal, three hours to prepare for Friday, then fires for Easter Eve before the eggs make an appearance next Sunday. Now, I am very aware of all that I don't have to do and am more than pleased to relieve some clergy of preparation for Friday and Sunday.

For the first time in many years for me Holy Week will be very different and as a deliberate act to sustain my sacred centre, and to counter the busyness that usually comes with this week, I have not booked any appointments in my diary for Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. Instead I am going to participate in the drama myself, assisted by others I hope to discover new things as I awaken my senses to the most important week in our Christian lives.

An important question for all of us as this week begins is 'What part in the drama do we play during the course of this week?' It may be that we relate to one particular individual, or it may be that we move from character to character as the week progresses, whatever we do I am sure all of us on this Palm Sunday can already sense within ourselves something of the person in the crowd all too easily led, the confused and perplexed disciple, the high priest wanting to keep to some rules, all getting in the way of a commitment to do the Father's will, which in turn is often so misunderstood by others.

Day 34 - Getting the process right

I have just returned from a busy 24 hrs with the Bishop's Council, ensconced away at St Stephen's House, Theological College. My head is spinning with all that we have shared together, as well as process questions about where to go next. It's hard to know just what to write.

I confess that there has not been a deliberate practising the presence of God on my part over the last 24 hrs, however there have been plenty of moments when the presence of God was practised! That all seems part and parcel of ministry - being alert to the times when God is present, although it all seems quite routine, mundane and about God anyway.

So God was present quite explicitly in the worship - three different experiences over the 24 hrs. Although, for me in putting together worship for one of the sessions, I sensed God's presence more in the preparation than the delivery (again this so often happens as a minister); God was present through his Word explicitly in the Bible Study and times of prayer and reflection; and God was present in the Building, although some parts reflected that to me better than others.

Then there was the interaction - God's presence being manifested in all the conversations, the plans, the discussion, the aspirations and the questions. But, for me most importantly God was present in the process - it is by creating space for the thinking and the relationship building, with some plans and preparation built in, that brings about the moment in which encounter and transformation can happen.

So much of the God glimpses are about the Kairos moments, which can often only come about if we have an openness to them, or create a space for them. This last 24 hrs helped Bishop's Council have a moment to breathe - when so often it doesn't....and in that space significant movement happened towards God and towards an understanding of one another. My mind may be spinning but I sense God has been at work....hence my determination to continue to get the processes right.

Day 33 - Precious time

In an hour or so I am going to be driving down to Burnham Abbey It's more or less a monthly visit to celebrate the Eucharist with the sisters there, and has become a very special time for me. The sisters enjoy the services of local clergy, the Bishop and I who come each day to preside at their 9.30am service. It is also an offering of their generosity to me as, understanding that I do not have a regular 'altar', and they have given me theirs.

However, the madness of this regular visit, for a service that lasts half an hour, is the journey which takes at least two hours! It could, on a good day, take 45 minutes, however to get there for 9.30am I need to allow for traffic jams in Gt Missenden, Beaconsfield and Burnham and leave home by 8am. If I go straight back home I get in at about 11am. Looking at it rashly it seems a ridiculous use of my time ....

Yet, somehow this monthly trip has become sacred space, whether I go off to something else afterwards, or drive back home. Allowing time to get to the Abbey makes the journey far less stressful, it's like I am driving towards something. If the traffic is not so bad I have a good 15 minutes to prepare, as I sit in the vestry, the oldest part of the Abbey and ponder and pray. Then there is the service itself - it tunes me in to the liturgical year, sometimes it will be a Feast Day with incense and singing, sometimes there are guests and at other times it is just the sisters and me. The slow rhythmical pace of the liturgy slows me down, centres me with God, and helps me focus on my role as a priest. For me too, it is an enormously humbling experience and an absolute privilege - and in that particular setting, many of the words of the liturgy come alive in a new way. I was struck only the other month by the meaning, in that context of the phase 'God's holy gifts, for God's holy people.' for example.

Then there is the journey back - I get to hear many radio programmes driving around, but somehow driving back home listening to Woman's Hour has become something of a treat. It's a bit of 'me' time before getting into the post, the emails and the work of the day. So in a paradoxical way, what may look like time wasted, has become precious time.

I am so grateful to the sisters for their hospitality, and for their ongoing ministry of prayer and service. I know much of their prayer is for the work of the local church, the archdeaconry and the diocese and value knowing too that my work is their concern also.

How often, do we look rationally at something and dismiss it, without really noticing or acknowledging its true worth ?

Day 32 - The significant 'yes'

Today we remember in our liturgical calendar the Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Whilst it is set to slot in nine months before our celebration of Christmas, it does give us a chance to further ponder in Lent the significance of the word 'yes'.

Neither Mary's 'yes' or Christ's 'yes' feel like a reluctant 'yes'. Both give themselves wholeheartedly to what they have been called to do. It's interesting re-reading in Luke that encounter between Mary and the angel. At first she was much perplexed and pondered the words, then she asked a very understandable question 'How can this be?' and once she had received that all important explanation she gave the significant 'yes' and life for her was never the same again. We neither know what went on in Mary's mind, nor how powerful that encounter was. I would suggest that it was a very powerful encounter, touching her very deeply and moving her so much that her 'yes' was unequivocal.

So often in today's world we weigh up all our options, and usually want to keep them open. We break promises we cannot keep, or keep them only for a while. Our 'yes' comes with strings attached (pre-nuptial agreements comes to mind!), or our 'yes' remains very strongly on our own terms. It's interesting that only yesterday in our Morning Prayer readings we have been in Exodus with Pharaoh's determined 'No'! Yet, time and time again we can see through history, that remarkable things happen because people say 'yes' and mean it. It's as if God comes through the 'yes' into our world - the signs of peace and reconciliation, the long term commitments to a cause, or a relationship, the lives dedicated to him.

This morning I am reminded of a particular time in my own life, when I said a definite 'yes'. It was at Spring Harvest in Easter 1989. I had been working at Christ Church, Billericay for about six months, I had not yet thought about ordination. My 'yes' was not to a prayer, but a song which clearly articulated my feelings.

I want to serve the purpose of God in my generation

I want to serve the purpose of God while I am alive

I want to give my life for something that will last forever

Oh, I delight, I delight to do Your will

I want to build with silver and gold in my generation

I want to build with silver and gold while I am alive

I want to give my life for something that will last forever

Oh, I delight, I delight to do Your will

What is on Your heart? Tell me what to do

Let me know Your will

And I will follow You

I want to see the Lord come again in my generation

I want to see the Lord come again while I am alive

I want to give my life for something that will last forever

Oh, I delight, I delight to do Your will

That 'yes' gave God permission and for me life was never the same again. As I reflect on that, I am aware about how much I need to go on saying 'yes', to renew that sense of commitment, and reflect upon it's power. That does not mean that I never say 'no' - that would be irresponsible (and totally unbecoming of an archdeacon!), but means that I do say 'yes' in the way that enables, and commits, that is wholehearted and total. My prayer today, is that my 'yes' will always mean 'YES'!