Are the voices in my head too loud for you?

Isaac Newton Restores My Sense of Perspective

11th February 2007

At Evening Prayer I was giving thanks for a good weekend and continuing to reflect on what blessedness and chosenness means to me - a reoccuring theme over recent days.  I caught myself reflecting negatively on my own worth. 

Like most of us, I am my own harshest critic.

I read from a favourite consolation these words:

Instead of wasting energy in being disgusted with yourself, accept your own failure, and just say to God, 'Well, in spite of all I may say or fancy, this is what I am really like - so please help me in my weakness'.  This, not self-disgust, is the real and fruitful humility.

Evelyn Underhill.

Underhill hits home every time. 

It seems to me that humility is the key to blessedness.  My inner knowing, growing and glowing that I am as God would have me be, is celebrated through my delight in the important things in life.  My angst in the moment is neither here nor there in the cosmic scale of things.

This is what Isaac Newton wrote of himself:

I do not know what I may appear in the world; but to myself I seem to have been only a boy playing on the seashore, and diverting myself now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me...

Sometimes I can't see what is staring me in the face - and I take comfort in the fact that a genius - a person who changed our understanding of what our created world is - like the Isaac Newton had that sense too. 

Chosen

10th February 2007

The Sanctuary at St. Columba House where I work as part-time co-ordinator has opened earlier than anticipated this year - and we have been welcoming our first guest of the season this weekend.  It's felt like greeting an old friend on every level and in many ways.  Lovely to see the space being used again after being shut up since a Christmas visit from a school friend.  Delightful too to see a familiar face as our first visitor.  Wonderful to be back in harness with this part of the work I do - that in itself is akin to greeting an old and trusted companion.  It's a very precious part of my life; providing a safe place where people can come and relax, talk, be fed and find shelter; a place to reflect and reposition themselves in their world.

I feel a little like a midwife awaiting the birth when guests are in residence.  I always have a sense of anticipation and often excitment on their behalf.  Something unexpected always occurs.  It may not feel like a birth whilst the person is here.  It may be the very first labour pains or even a process of mourning what has not come to be - and yet somehow the place; the rhythm of prayer; the simple service of hospitality interplay and a certain chemistry occurs.  I've yet to meet a person who, given time and space, cannot come up with possible answers to their own questions.  It is extraordinary to be trusted as a fellow pilgrim for a little while on their journey.  It is always a very mutual experience and I often feel ministered to in the process of being present.  This weekend has been no exception.

The snow has come and almost gone.  I have yet to survey the damage, but I suspect most of the daffodils will survive - it was a relatively light fall.  The landscape where we are is transformed by even just a dusting. I am always struck by the number of wild animal tracks in the snow.  Our front garden seems to be a main thoroughfare for all kinds of creatures. 

I haven't seen the roe deer for a few days and suspect that they may have been frightened away for the time being by the gunmen taking pot shots at the waterfowl.  I often have an almost uncontrolable urge to let our dogs out to run around and scatter the birds.  I hate to see them shot.

Our cats, Cuthbert and Teazle, have given up serious hunting on the grounds that everywhere is frozen.  The large pine chair in the kitchen with its patchwork cushion is a much more comfortable spot.

I have been reflecting a lot in recent days about what vocation means and in particular what it means to be chosen.  I have been reading from a retreat book focused around the writing of the theologian, Henri Nouwen.  It provides challenging resources which help me to explore what being chosen means for me.  Phrases like 'knowing I am made in the image of God'; seeing myself as 'beautifully and wonderfully made' can become platitudes that trip off the tongue, rather than inner truths that are readily lived and embraced.

I have long felt vocation is something to do with finding the unique footprint which is mine alone to leave on the earth.  How I work this out is where the chosenness comes in, I think.  What difference does it make to me?  To how I live my life?  The choices I make?  If I see myself called by God; known in my mother's womb and created to be in intimate relationship with God?

I struggle with this.  The imagery we have received, particularly through the Psalmists, casts us in the most intimate and intricate relationship with the Creator - the Other - the One we name God.  What does it mean to be chosen in this way?  Is it, by definition, a feeling of oneness - a joining of purpose with a Higher Intention?  Should the marks of being chosen be visible in a sense of feeling content and at peace with our choice?  Is it possible to be chosen but edgy; uncomfortable with all that it means to be of God?  Can you choose not to be chosen?  Was Cain 'chosen' in this sense?

Can you be chosen to challenge?

Yes.

Look at Jeremiah.

Nouwen rightly, I think, links the out-working of our chosenness to a sense of blessing.  Not in the kind of the Theology of Blessing popular in some quarters of Christianity which suggests that those who find favour with God are financially and materially richly blessed, but rather as the awareness of blessed -ness.

Psychologically, blessedness could be described as the moment when we have be-friended who we are; our past stories; and our future aspirations; when, in a sense, we see ourselves for what we are - and love ourselves as we are - rather than loving the parts we perceive as acceptable.  This view finds resonance in Matthew's presentation of The Sermon on the Mount.  Blessedness in this context can be read as a spiritual maturity as well as a perceived reality.

My chosenness seems to be something around a sense of recognising the rightness or appropriateness of who I am and what I am doing within the context I am in.  It seems highly probable that a large number of people feel called, in a vocational sense, to take up their cross - whether that be as a nurse, justice campaigner, carer, High Court Judge or priest.  Our sense of calling may help to drive us on when things get tough, but it is our sense of blessedness which consoles us, which maintains our worth in our own eyes.  Whoever we are - or whatever we do - it is the feeling that we believe we have intrinsic value that helps us to retain emotional perspective and find the courage to not only befriend ourselves, but others.

I listen

Not to your words

Which speak of things that fill the air and

shatter the silence.

I listen to the dream

that swells your heart

and makes you catch your breath

with desire.

I catch a glimpse

of well covered woundedness

and recognise the hurtfull-ness we all share.

I watch you

listen and embrace with

compassion

the you

who watched you,

and till now,

could only stare.

Blessed are the pilgrims who risk finding themselves.

Ramsey Day

4th February 2007

Once a month I have a Ramsey Day, named after the Archbishop, Michael Ramsey.  Today was it.  I have read a great deal of the Archbishop's spiritual writings, dipped into biographical material and heard the most wonderful stories recalled, and some, I am sure apocryphal, about the man, told by those who sat at his feet during his lifetime.  He sounded rounded, balanced, shy, wickedly ascerbic and as though he never took himself terribly seriously - although he executed his role as a priest and teacher with considerable pastoral awareness and theological sophistication. 

Ramsey  was in the habit of setting aside time on a regular basis to catch up with himself and in-fill.  I have named my day to do much the same after him.

So today I have been in the garden tidying and enjoying the very real signs that Spring is in the air.  Ben Wyvis, our nearest - and usually snow-capped  - peak is almost snow free - a rare occurrence this early in the year.  I have delighted in the snowdrops defiantly bobbing in a gentle breeze.  I was surprised to see daffodils well on the way to full growth and some showing bud.  There was I thinking my garden tidy was getting ahead for once;  it is already catch up time!

The weather over the weekend has been amazing and it has been incredible to be working outside in a t-shirt and fleece - not even wellies!  I have enjoyed changing gear today mentally, physically and emotionally.  It has been a day the Benedictines would be proud of - a prayerfully workly day. 

It has helped me focus in on the task I want to complete between now and Holy Week which is a set of Stations of the Cross based on disability for the chapel here, where I live.  I don't know if I can get them all done in time without forcing the creative process, but over the weekend I have managed to have a go at the first three; 'Jesus is condemned to death'; 'Jesus takes up his cross'; 'Jesus falls the first time'.

They have been very emotionally challenging to do, but on each occasion, an image of what I wanted to create on paper has come very powerfully to me and it hasn't felt as though I have had much to do with what has ultimately appeared on the pad.  I have felt drained by the anticipation rather than the actual putting pastel to paper.  I have felt compelled to produce the composition.  It's an odd sensation, I sometimes feel much the same when I am writing a prayer or a poem.  Maybe it's my subconscious.  Maybe it's the Holy Spirit.  Maybe this weekend I was relaxed enough for the creative juices simply to flow!  Jubilate Deo!

As I was working outside this afternoon I felt overwelmed by the awesome privilege of simply being; being in the moment; alive; well and able to enjoy - for now. Julian of Norwich was right - all manner of things shall be well.

Inevitably my sense of consolation didn't last too long, other things kicked in - but it was magical. I am thankful for today.

Cuthbert the Cat and Alternative Funerals

1st February 2007

A soothing day today.  I spent some time outside trying to do some basic maintenance.  Reclaiming the herbs in their pots from weeds 'squatting' and to clear some of the extraneous things that seem to gather - and not have a home in and around the garden.  The wind was up - but it helped blow the cobwebs away mentally and physically.

We live on the shore of the Moray Firth in a quiet spot.  The sun popped out a couple of times, but otherwise the wind made for a transient sky and impressive cloud formations.

The ducks were bobbing happily on the water and our youngest cat, Cuthbert (Bertie) was determined to be my help mate.  Anything I tried to do he was there, pouncing and jumping, crouching - and then finally - when I climbed into the car for a breather out of the wind, jumping in, climbing onto the back parcel shelf and then crashing out.  I listened to You and Yours and stayed in the car much longer than anticipated as they were featuring alternative funerals. 

The programme was outlining some of the choices people are making.  The one I am still thinking about is the firework company that will send your ashes up in a pyrotechnics display!  Also an egg shaped coffin in which the deceased is laid in a foetal position.  Actually, as well as those, I was also intrigued by the graveside feature which is apparently becoming popular in the USA.  It is a headstone mounted screen which you can press and see a short multimedia presentation on the life of the person who has died.  There was a great deal about green burials (which is the option I have chosen for myself) and a vicar of "thirty five years" was interviewed who was deeply unphased by what he had seen at the alternative exhibition and said, quite rightly, he would be "open to just about anything".

I left Cuthbert sleeping with the car door open, but Radio 4 turned off.  I feel he can listen to the radio in the house if he wishes to.  For some reason, he loves cars.  He was picked up as a stray on Lewis and we fell for him at SSPCA.  We wonder to this day whether his over-friendliness meant he hitched a lift from some part of the island, and then, not knowing where he was, began his life as a stray.  He was a very obviously loved young cat who seems to enjoy being in the Chapel here and will purr loudly during singing!  He looked awfully like a fluffy toy, fast asleep on the parcel shelf this afternoon.  I should have stopped and taken a picture. Now to return to my own alternative funeral rite - clearing up the remains of Bertie's latest hunting expedition.

Changing MInds

I am feeling tired but content this morning.  I have just finished the final chapter draft - my contribution to a book called The Edge(s) of God: New Liturgical Texts and Contexts in Conversation.  Assuming the editors still like it now it's been revised, it will come out, I guess either later this year or early next.  I am like a child with a new toy. still in its protective wrapping.  I want it out of the packaging and to be able to play with it now!  I am really keen to hear what people feel about what I have written.  I hope it's good enough to be included.

I read the script back early this morning before I set about preparing it for posting and I was pleased I had written it.  I find trying to articulate issues regarding disability and the practice of the Church exceptionally difficult.  I want the challenging things I say to be accessible and not 'turn people off' from the discussion, even though I am addressing subjects which aren't very comfortable.  How do we exclude people from belonging in our churches?  Why do we deny the validity of attitudes which are hugely different from our own?  I would be very weary of a church where everyone thought, spoke and acted like me - indeed that could easily be a working definition of Hell!

Following the current national debate on gay adoption and the Roman Catholic Church, this is a case in point.  The reality is that same-sex couples are very unlikely to access adoption services from the Roman Catholic Church given their exceptionally well publicised position on the importance of heterosexual marriage.  I can respect the position they hold regarding the sanctity of marriage even if I don't personally agree with it without some critical revisions included!  I can even agree, as a foster carer and adoptive parent myself - with my partner - that the shear practicalities of engaging in the lives of older children who are placed for adoption means that at the very least, you need either a very loving partner to honour you; listen to you; and scrape you off the floor when you are in the doldrums - or you must have the closest and most committed of friendship networks - who will stand by you through thick and thin.

I am struggling with the opposite notion from Archbishop Rowan.  I cannot see why the Church should or could plead extenuating circumstances and still claim funding for the work they do from central government.  We have a very acute need to find caring households for children who, for whatever reason, are unable to remain in their birth families.  As a society we try and encourage birth families to remain as a unit if at all possible - and so if the placement breaks down - eventually, the reality of the situation is that the child will need very high levels of support and care. 

Finding a person or people to undertake the task of caring in a loving way for another person's child is not easy.  Any person, irrespective of gender, ethnicity, disability or sexual orientation is capable of offering security, consistancy and love.  Although I uphold the Roman Catholic Churches right to choose not to accept applications from gay prospective adopters, I do not understand how they can justify receiving government funding for their non-inclusified policy.

I need help to get my head round that.

I am surprised that the Archbishops seem so cut up about the government refusing to back down on this issue.  It is not a question, surely, of the state telling the Church what to do (although there are plenty of historical precidents for that) but rather the state setting the boundaries under which it requires the various partners in care to operate together for the good of society and the accountability of us all.  If the dominant attitudes in society are not to our liking as a Church, then we must stand in a long and courageous tradition with our forbears and be prepared to present our message, values and understanding of humanity in ways which subvert and engage with the prevailing attitudes of our time.  We cannot side step vigorous debate by pleading a special case; nor claim a dispensation on the grounds that our values are counter-cultural.  We need to engage and in doing so recognise that we may also be changed by the interaction.

Can Fat Fight Back?

Can Fat Fight Back?

I am fat.  I do not exercise enough.  I eat too much.  I lose weight.  Relax.  Stop the rigorous discipline and the weight slips back on.  I understand a little of why I overeat - but I am not sure it is just a case of eating too much and not exercising enough - although those are key factors.  The facts are irritating - but they cannot be denied.

I do think there is a conspiracy amongst those who manufacture and supply our food.  Only recently have we discovered as consumers the huge risk to our health posed by hydrogenated fats.  Apparently our bodies cannot process these. America has banned them because they are linked to obesity and heart disease. Every few weeks there is another scare about additives, preservatives and colourings which are carcinogenic or increase sensitivity to chronic conditions like Asthma and ADHD.  So many of our meat and fish products have hormones and colourings added which we then eat.  It's enough to make me a vegan.  We are the only mammals who drink milk after weaning - and we no longer graze - but munch huge quantities irregularly.

Healthy eating is highly desirable.  It is a must - but - how healthy are the foods we are being encouraged to buy?  I am sceptical - and if it wasn't for the well-documented long term health issues I will potentially bring on myself, I would describe myself as contentedly obese.  However, the health risks are there and I would be very ill advised to ignore them.

I strongly suspect obesity is the new 'smoking' and considerable pressure will be brought to bear on the general public to reduce weight and get fitter.  I feel I can use this - as long as it is not too humiliating!

Maybe I should join "Weight Watchers"?  I was talking to a friend a few weeks ago who looks wonderful and has lost loads of weight with them.  She found the support of other people also trying to lose really helped her.  I am very, very tempted to give it a go.  It's not just a matter of health, it's also about the good stewardship of my body, mind and spirit.  These gifts are precious to me - and I don't want to abuse them by putting my body under unnecessary pressure.  Petrifying to think that I must do this and it will involve a change to my food-orientated lifestyle.  What could I do to make this a success this time when I have failed in the past?  Maybe the blogs will help.

It also helps me if I can attack a problem on a lot of levels.  Losing weight would be one of the ultimate expressions of taking myself seriously - it is saying that I want to look after myself as well as be there for others.  Remembering I am made in the image of God is important - but I have always taken comfort in the fact that there was no reason why a fat God couldn't be an intellectually and spiritually defensible option!  I guess, retrospectively, this is an angels dancing on a pinhead approach to self-justification!

It was Tertullian, I think, who first got excited about humans being made in the image of God.  He saw humans resembling the image and likeness of God in their spiritual and physical form.  The Reformers, in the sixteenth century, rejected this notion believing that God's image in humanity was severely marred by the Original Sin of Adam and Eve's Fall from Grace in "Genesis". The evolving Liberal views of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries diluted the idea of sin and so made the doctrine of imago dei into an all-embracing capacity or potential for God.

In the twenty-first century, Christian Ethics rests on an understanding of humans as having value because they are in some way representative of the divine image.  One of the many aims of the Church is to encourage each individual towards maturity - in Christian language this might be described as achieving a likeness to Christ - embracing fully our unique vocation in life.

A vocation is, I think, like a fingerprint.  It is the unique trace our presence on the planet leaves when we are no longer around.

If I can accept I am fully made in the image of God, and am, as the Psalmist reminds me, 'beautifully and wonderfully made' do I need to lose weight?  Can't I just settle comfortably into being the Highlands answer to "The Vicar of Dibley" and have done with it?  Probably, if that is my unique vocation - but if there is something else niggling underneath then the chances are that at some psychological level there are issues I need to address.

If I wish to be imago dei with an active life then clearly the weight needs to start to come off.  If I don't feel that is a significant part of what I am called to be - then I guess a short, bulging life might be justifiable - although the evidence, biblically, psychologically and ethically may well beg to differ.  Can I sit smugly eating and piling on the pounds from the comfort of my westernised perspective or do I have an obligation to acknowledge and share my belief in the image of God with others and act on it in ways which take active, and positive care of my mind, body and spirit?

It's going to be an ouch moment - but I think the answer is yes.  The urge to reach for a packet of shortbread is huge...

The Church and Adoption

Trying to Fill a Vacancy (Unsuccessfully!)

Bad news last night.  The person discerning whether she wanted to come and join us for a six month extended retreat and live in community has decided after huge amounts of thought and prayer that this isn't the right move for her at this time.  She is reflective, bright and interesting.  I have no doubt that she has weighed the pro's and con's.  I trust her judgement.  I am disappointed though.  I could see her here and imagine what it might be like.  However, we all have to face different forks in life's road and whichever one we choose, my personal experience is that it is honoured and amazing opportunities are offered whichever and whatever choice we make.  Alongside those there are the inevitable obstacles and personal tragedies and challenges - but somehow life continues to work out.

The Church and Adoption

The news is full of the Roman Catholic Church saying that they will be unable to accommodate same-sex couples as prospective adopters at their agencies.  They are urging the government to change the emphasis of the legislation they are proposing to take account of religious organisations' potential sensitivity in this area.

Whatever one's views, there are some serious issues at stake here.  Does a denomination have the right to effectively hold the government to ransom with such a threat.  Archbishops Rowan and John, Canterbury and York have entered the fray, adding their support to the Roman Catholic position.  They seem to feel that it is important that the Church has a get-out clause in this.

The Churches do not have unequivocal stances on homosexuality.  Although the Roman Catholic Church teaches and expects a strong adherence to centrally held teaching regarding sexual and ethical issues.  Some people in all the Christian denominations feel very strongly that the presence of gay Christians is not an expression of the Christian life and is a travesty of the teachings of Jesus.  Much of their argument stems from their interpretation of particular passages of scipture, which those of a more liberal persuasion argue are ambiguous at best,  and when they are rather more explicit,  are open to re-interpretation in the light of the social, psychological and genetic understandings of sexual orientation.  Whatever one's position, the climate of the Church has been changed by this issue.  Gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people are being denied expression of their faith and practice of love - whilst those who believe homosexuality is wrong feel they too are being denied authenticity and credibility in 'a political-correctness gone-mad' society.

What are we doing to each other and perhaps more importantly why are we doing it?

Priesthood in Balance

23rd January 2007

Priesthood on Balance

Travelled back to the Highlands from Perth today.  The train was heaving with bodies and bags - but the scenery was magnificent - a winter wonderland of swirling mists, snow and rugged crags.

Arrived home tired, but largely content.  I felt the weekend had gone well.  Greeted by family, dogs, cats - all of whom seem to have missed me!  Jessica, our Newfoundland and senior dog - wouldn't let me out of her sight for most of the evening.

Day off yesterday.  Caught up with the things I am always tempted to leave to one side - self care and sleep.  Log fire and a sleeping bag on the sofa - rubbish on telly- and I was fast asleep on a grey, winter's afternoon in seconds.  Bliss.

This morning - meetings.  Good, productive ones.  Issues raised and explored - even action decided upon - and soon to be taken.  It's been a morning of Church related business.  Now I no longer work as a stipendiary priest, it feels even more of a privilege to be a part of the Church's 'world' in some way.  Everything I do now is by invitation - and that makes it very precious.

I am constantly discerning how to balance the different aspects of my life and the sometimes contrasting roles.  This morning I was 'employed' by the Church; this afternoon I was a writer.  At all times I endeavour to be a priest.

I have felt since long before I was ordained that I would be in some way changed by Ordination.  I didn't think, like the old joke about the chap asking the surgeon about to do his operation - 'Will I be able to play golf after the operation doctor? '  'Only if you could before' - that Ordination would make me 'better' or 'put right' the edgy, unresolved parts of me and my life.

I did feel I would be making a vow which would last a lifetime and that would, over time, change me.  At least that has been my prayer.  In theological terms we talk about an ontological change - the transformation of the essence of the person at the moment when the hands of the Bishop are laid on the candidate and the Holy Spirit is invoked.  I have always likened it, crudely perhaps, to Blackpool rock.  From the moment of Ordination, the inner working through of the me-ness of me would be continued through the filter/lens of priesthood.  'Me' would become 'us'.  'I' would become less important that 'we'.  I have been marked by Ordination; set apart and invited to interact with the world in some specific and challenging ways.  To grow into becoming a trusted pastor who tries hard to uphold the dignity and integrity of others.  To continue to be an honest and faithful pilgrim - honest in my doubts and faithfully open to the spiritual journey.  To try, despite being a little shy and reserved, to offer welcome and hospitality.  To be a teacher - who tries to capture ideas and use them to challenge hearts and minds.

Whether I am sitting in a meeting or setting out to walk one of my dogs - I am conscious of being on the same journey - the pilgrimage of transforming me from ego-centred to soul-centred.  I have the added whammie as a non-stipendiary priest of having a little more time to observe with detachment the Church - and to stand witness to the spiritual work in progress within the institution.  It is exciting to see.

Remembering Kindness

Today was the funeral of a person from my childhood.  I didn't ever know the person well, although my parents did.  She was nevertheless a formative influence.  Owning and running a local Chemist with her pharmacist husband I learnt from her what it was like to receive unconditional, consistent acts of kindness.  I went into her shop early most mornings on the way into school.  I was, almost always, a teenage window shopper.  I was greeted with warmth and a gentle enquiry.  My colds were sympathised with.  I was even given some cough sweets to test once - for free!  My family were often asked after and somehow I never felt I was too much trouble.  That was a rare and valuable gift to a terribly shy teenager.  I was made to feel wanted and valued.  May her soul rest in peace.  She was a most faithful servant of humanity and a person who touched me with kindness and acceptance.

Why I stay an Anglican

19th January 2007

I am writing this on the train to Perth, in Scotland.  It's a shortish journey from my home in Inverness - a couple of hours or so. 

Yesterday freak storms in England took the lives of ten people.  I will remember those people - their families, colleagues and friends in the prayers in Chapel tonight at the monastery I am travelling to.  Their lives were taken arbitarily because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.  I struggle with the randomness of life at times and how that fits with a faith in God.

The storm damage has closed many roads, destroyed property and brought some areas to a temporary standstill.  With power lines down in Lancashire and flooding elsewhere, the news is full of stories about the heroic efforts of the emergency services and community minded individuals who are working to return everything to normal as quickly as possible.

It is as though if we can bury our dead, restore the power, clear the debris and mend the broken windows and damaged cars we can return to a lifestyle where we are largely anaethetised to the realities of global warming and the fair stewardship of the earth's resources.

In recent months there have been a number of stories about the colossal cost on the environment of China's phenomenal growth as a manufacturing super power.  Somehow we neglected to report on our own uses and abuses of resources.  In some deep sense it felt OK when we were exploiting the earth's natural resources because we were simply looking after our own; making sure we had enough.

Now, however much we might wish we could ignore it, the realities of environmental change are impacting at a level that we cannot help but notice.  Migrating birds arriving and departing at unusual times.  Animals hibernating for shorter periods.  Daffodils in the garden, budding in December.  Adverts reminding us to upgrade boilers and turn down heating.

Ironically, the changes we witness in our gardens or and in the landscape have made us more acutely aware of the extraordinary variety and delicacy of our eco-system.  It is tempting to get caught up in the wonderful transformations and alterations - and forget the root cause.

Today I am travelling by train to attend a weekend residential course for a group of men and women training for authorised ministry in the Scottish Episcopal Church.  We meet for five weekends in the year, and the rest of the time they continue their training week by week through placements at churches throughout Scotland; by meeting in small groups for reflection on what ministry is; and by continuing their academic studies in their sponsoring Dioceses.  They travel into the monastery from all over Scotland.  They are taught by tutors in Ministry, Liturgy and Spirituality - and then have some additional input on a theme which they often identify for themselves.  This weekend we will welcome a speaker on The Psalms; hear about marriage and funeral rites used by the Church and think about what prayer is.  The students are usually highly committed and focused.  I hope this stays true while I am teaching them.

I love these weekends.  They give me such a sense of hope for the on-going life and vision of the Church.  Maybe my ears are particularly tuned to hear the negatives in the media about the Church - but there seem to be endless stories about how much the Church is declining in membership and as a spiritual and ethical influence.

Spending time with the current generation of ministers in training makes me realise that the Church is evolving, but it is far from declining.  I sense that in years to come this period in our Church's life will be seen as a Reformation.

Our understanding of ourselves is being transformed by our access to technology, scientific advance, medical intervention, literature, art, music, money, travel and a lifestyle context that could only have been dreamed of a hundred - or even fifty years ago.

This has significant consequences in the sense that just like the Reformation in the sixteenth century, even with access to information at the press of a button, we are still taking a wee while to catch up intellectually and emotionally with each new opportunity and discovery available to us.  This causes a very deep and real fatigue of the human spirit.  It can feel like running up the down escalator of life.

No surprises then, that some people feel so challenged by what they read and experience that traditional Church values and practices seem alien or outmoded to them.  They feel that they no longer speak to contemporary experience.  They ridicule the place of religion in contemporary society and see it as intrinsically infantile and divisive.  It's not so very shocking that others feel the need to hold on to what they see as ancient, unchanging truths; our early inheritance as a faith community.  They speak of continuity, reminding us of a time when although life would not have been any simpler emotionally or spiritually, at least the world we inhabited would have been more contained.  Hardly incredible then that within the Church there should also be those who embrace the ransforming influences in society and wish to see the new insights critically evaluated and deployed by the Church.  They long to see the Church at the forefront of change and not with her hand resting constantly on the handbrake of past experience.

All these positions have significant aspects to commend them.  Like a rope made of many strands, if the Church lost one of these influences she would be significantly less effective in the role she is called to fulfill.

I feel we shouldn't romanticise these strands however, in the sense that one holds rather more intrinsic truth or integrity than the others.  None of them have a monopoly on insight or the Divine Will - although there would, I am sure, be proponents of each position who would claim unequivocally that they did.  All of them bear 'the fruits of the spirit' in palpable and life-giving ways, but they are managed and made manifest through human assumptions and filters - and need therefore to be open to discussion, discernment and mutual accountability.

As an Episcopalian I have been formed in a Church which has prided itself on, at least until now, holding, however tenuously, to a degree of tolerance for, and commitment to, diversity.  I don't think any Anglican in the Anglican Communion can say they are entirely comfortable with all aspects of their church and spiritual life in their denomination - and I am no exception.

Somehow I try and hold faith, I think, on reflection, primarily with three facets of being Church.

Firstly, I try and see the Church as a dynamic, provisional and divinely ordained Body, modelled on the minsitry of Jesus with the vocation of representing Jesus to the world, and therefore to each new generation.  I see the Church as an incarnational presence in the world - using her eyes, ears, hands, feet, brain and heart to be alongside the poor and marginalized in society.

Secondly, like human bodies of tissue and bone, the Church is organic and shaped by the function (or dysfunctionality) of its parts in any given age.  I therefore trust in "Thy will be done" - not mine - or even ours.  Wherever the Church has functioned, she has attempted to reflect the gaze of God in her concern and preoccupations at that time.  Sometimes she has been myopic; corrupted by power or driven by human egos - but she has also had periods when she has been counter-cultural, prophetic, subversive and been a lone voice for reform and political transformation.

Lastly, as a Church I believe we are in process.  Although all things have been revealed for us to feel confident in the promises made by Jesus to humanity - the outworking of those promises in the world is still very much work in progress.  It is taking time to create a Kingdom fit for God and for God's creation.  As a keen painter I would say the paint will stay wet on the canvas for a wee while yet.

Shilpa and Loving One Another

18th January 2007

I felt very uncomfortable watching Big Brother (C4) last night.  The evolving 'reality' of Shilpa Shetty's victimisation was difficult to view - just as the effigies of C4 executives being set on fire to in the streets of India (News 24) were threatening and desensitising.  Where these just staged for the camera?  Apparently Big Brother isn't available in India.

It is ironic that while we are being constantly told that the world is shrinking to a global village, our capacity to communicate effectively with one another in a spirit of openness and acceptance is increasingly curtailed.  What disturbed me the most about some of the celebrieties participating in the programme was that their behaviour appears to validate ignorance as an intellectually acceptable position.  In other words I can make huge assumptions about your lifestyle; I can be rude to your face and behind your back; I can imply that my personal views are the prevalent views of western society - and I can validate my anger by deriding your right to hold contrasting views.  Worrying.

Psychologists tell us that prejudice is rooted in ignorance and our sense of fear of the things that challenge our experience or sense of identity.  That's as true of me as it is of Jade Goody.  Shilpa didn't endear herself to her fellow housemates with an initial relational style which was self-asured and at times, a little dismissive of others', but she was quickly reduced to tears by what, I felt, was systematic bullying by Jade.  To draw attention to so many cultural differences and expose ignorance about other cultures whilst failing to honour another person's personal space and dignity is surely invidious racism?  Shilpa may not have been called 'names' but her inferior status in the eyes of some of her housemates simply because she is not indigenous, white British and does not share similar preoccupations with them is clear.  It has been implied that she is dirty; doesn't speak English properly; is a liar; a dog and should f*** off home.  These are not expressions of acceptance or respect.  They are a declaration of interpersonal war.

What's going on here?

The Christian faith has a lot to say about receiving other people with dignity.  Jesus taught those who follow him to "Love one another" - not only because we have experienced the acceptance and love of God ourselves, but also because we are invited to love others as we love ourselves.

As Jade raged on, apparently increasingly out of control, about Shilpa's faults, I couldn't help but wonder if she was actually transferring her own feelings of insecurity and inadequacy onto the person in the house she felt most thratened by.  Would her attitude towards Shilpa be any different if she felt comfortable and fulfilled herself?  Would it have been different if Shilpa had shared a common social and cultural inheritance with Jade?  Is difference quite so threatening when we feel accepted and secure about ourselves and others?