Sacred space in Prometheus

Having ended the last blog with the real presence of the Eucharist where we are renewed and our life in God is affirmed, today I continue and begin with sacredness and holiness.  There are places inthe world that we can describe as 'thin' places, places thatnare steeped in holiness. Whether this is something particular about the place or about the worship that has been made there for millennia, I do not know, but I suspect there is a relationship: thinking of Iona where I first encountered the immensity of a loving creator, that little island has peace and space and light in of itself and not something that humanity has created there; whilst at the same time I ponder on the depth I touched upon in the Holy Sephlchre in Jerusalem, or rather the depth that touched me, and knowing that there is nothing about the physicality of the place that makes it special, just the act of heaven breaking death that occured there.

Prometheus continues in one of these places: Skye, that well known Scottish Isle, and in a cave up a mountain.  We meet Dr Elizabeth Shaw and her partner Charlie Holloway for the first time, she calling him in urgency to the discovery she has made.  In the cave, painted upon the wall are paintings, like those seen on cave walls across Europe and Africa, lions and deer, the hand prints of men and women who died thousands of years ago, and their figures 'moving' across the surface of the rock: and part of this painting is the image of humanity at worship, kneeling down before a larger human figure who points up towards a constellation of spheres in the heaven.  Note Drs Shaw and Holloway's reactions: he takes off his hat and she, with tears in her eyes, says, "I think they want us to come and find them."

Similarly, there is the response of David, the artificial human, to the control room of the torc spaceship... throughout the movie, constant reference is made to his lack of emotional response, but and considering this, there is an apparent wonderment and childlike enjoyment in encountering the beauty and splendour of the Engineers' holographic representations of space etc.

"Moses... came to Horeb, the mountain of God... [and God] said, “Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.” (Exodus 3:1-6)

When one encounters something greater than you, greater in magnitude, literally awesome; when one encounters this, one has to have a reaction to it.  Thus, when we encounter the divine, we take off our shoes or our hats, or we cover our heads or bow down.  There is a reaction that is instinctive, that is practically unavoidable when we are touched by something other.

In setting this scene with Charlie and Eli in the cave RS is inviting the audience to view their searching for the Engineers as the search for the divine, for the other, even as the film recognises that they are creations themselves... but that's jumping the gun somewhat.

Yet for humanity to recieve the invitation to come and find them, the Engineers must have first (re)found humanity.

"What is man, that you should be mindful of him; the son of man, that you should seek him out?" (Psalm 8:5)

So much of our discussion about God speaks about us seeking him/her: likewise Prometheus centred on the idea of seeking out our creator(s).  Yet it is God who seeks us out and, in the film, it was the Engineers who first sought humanity out - for how else were the paintings produced - and who planned to return to Earth again.  As in Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel painting, God reaches out to touch us even as we attempt to reach out to him: yet in the film, the imperative is on humanity to go and find.

Is this what most people assume? That the divine has to be searched for rather than letting oneself be discovered by it?  I agree that there should be some personal activity to find God in one's life, to search for heaven, but God will find us: God has become incarnate to find us and continues to be; God's Holy Spirit continues to dwell with his people and in his people.  Alongside the argument for active searching, there must also be an argument for active waiting: finding the thin places and the sacred spaces, wherever they are, and allowing God to meet us there; taking time for silence and stillness, for the dawn of heaven to break into our lives.  And in those times and places letting our reaction be like those of Eli and Charlie and Daivd: with wonder, with awe, with desire we are called to approach heaven.

Prometheus: Ridley Scott talks God

As the film opens, we are met with soaring views and notes that are reminiscent of those used for the Day After Tomorrow and the Star Trek movies respectively, and the shadow of the flying saucer, so effective in Independence Day, is again used to good affect in Prometheus.  Regular Sci-Fi fans like myself are thus drawn in and hearts are captured from the start by these simple cinematic techniques, and immediately a comparison begins between those epic productions and this: the stage is set for something great.

But what I'm hoping to do here is not a film review as such, but make some theological reflections on this work of Ridley Scott (RS) that is absolutely packed with questions:
where do we come from?
Where are we going?
What is the nature of truth? Of theory? Of faith?
Who are we?
Where does Science now fit in our society and where does belief come in?
How do we share our beliefs and how do we accept others?
and more.

My first questions about the film are regarding the 'Engineers' themselves: these alien 'creators' who appear as immense, pale, heavily muscled humans top and tail the film.

What is interesting to note firstly is the difference between the Engineers' ships at this starting point and then at the end of film: do the two different shapes, the former a disc, the latter a torc, represent something else? Or is this just artistic licence to allow RS to feed into Alien as the torc ship is reminiscent of the alien craft found on the planet LV-426.  RS has alllowed definite allusions to Alien, despite remarking that this is not a prequel, for the letters of the Prometheus title appear in a similar way as they did for Alien.  There also appears to be a morphological different between the Engineers: the one at the end of the film has neck ridges that appear to be part of his anatomy rather than part of the suit he is wearing: are these differences purposeful or accidental, or am I just mistaken (nothing unusual there).  If the former, there is room to suggest that we are to be invited into a new world of Engineers for any future film in this Alien semi-prequel.  Are there differences between Engineers who create and Engineers who destroy?

As the film turns, the Engineer, in the barren landscape of a seemingly new world (although fleshed with the green of plants) makes his was across the rocky platform by the cascades of a powerful waterfall: above him, the disc rotates into a more vertical axis as it pearces the clouds and gives us a perspective on the immensity of its size (seemingly larger by a magnitude than the torc later in the film).  The Engineer takes some device from his robes and strips to the bare essentials.  The device is some kind of container and, upon opening it, we see a cup with an organically moving chemical substance.  He drinks of this cup (of sorrows) and immediately his body begins to break down as the substance spreads through his blood.  As his body breaks in pain it collapses under him and he cascades into the water. As he falls, his body is broken into a cloud of molecules, particularly DNA.  This seeding of genetics blooms into life and cells form and divide.

In interview with the blog 'If Only', Daniel Twiss, who plays the part of this Engineer, comments: "My character is that of a fairly young 'Engineer' who ritualistically sacrifices himself... [to provide] the first building blocks for new life to form..."  Self-sacrifice to provide life.  There is no good reason for this seeding of life to involve sacrifice: DNA can easily be created in the lab and then fed into any system.  Thus the ritual and the sacrifice are deliberate ploys to cast our minds towards religion, towards faith: this is a film produced in the context of Christianity, for our faith has, at it's heart, a creator (God) who would sacrifice himself to bring us life.  The pain evident on the young Engineer's face as he is torn apart turned my thoughts to the paintings of the crucifixion with Christ in the anguish of torture.  And as the Engineer is ripped into molecular clouds, I cannot but think of the Eucharist and the words 'this is my body given for you, broken for you', and the very notion that the presence of Jesus is dispersed and concentrated in each of us as we receive communion as the Engineer's DNA was dispersed into ocean and concentrated into cells.

And thus begins my musings on Prometheus: with the incarnation and the death of our Lord that we call to heart and mind and soul every Sunday, every Eucharist.  This is always where creation begins and where we find life.

Marriage has become more than it used to be.

With the current discussions underway, I thought it might be useful to post an essay I did at college: it's entitled,  "With reference to homosexuality, has the time come to revise the traditional Christian teaching that full sexual relations should only take place within marriage?"  It's a bit long winded, but I hope that it might prove some useful background reading.

To respond ‘no’ to this question is to be ignorant to the dynamic tradition that Anglicans of the Church of England share, and the world of the 21^st Century in which we live and its advances in the understanding of sexuality as formed biologically, psychologically and socially.  Our theology risks redundancy if it overlooks the most important forms and features of contemporary society, and Feminist, liberation, and lesbian and gay theologies that have made permanent contributions to and inextricably changed our theology.  There is, therefore, only one possible answer to this question: ‘yes, the time has come to revise the traditional Christian teaching that full sexual relations should only take place within marriage’, but only because the traditional concept of marriage should be revised to include people otherwise excluded, namely gay and lesbian people.  Karl Barth said that “marriages are made in heaven,” and with the growth of same-sex unions, it appears that the Holy Spirit is working to form a new pattern of mutual commitment, of ‘marriage’.  That Christians should abandon the teaching that full sexual relations should only take place within marriage is a notion that I would not stomach for both sexual intimacy and marriage are important and should not be taken lightly.

Any response to this question must first establish what ‘traditional Christian teaching’, and for me this in an Anglican context.  Today there is a near-universal assumption that marriage begins with a wedding yet only in 1754, after the Hardwicke Marriage Act had been passed, was a ceremony a legal requirement in England and Wales.  Prior to this, marriage had been a two-stage process involving an exchange of consent followed by consummation, and a wedding did not have to take place for the Church to recognise this as a valid marriage.  Marriages were of social importance for inheritance, and therefore power, depended upon male heirs.  Whilst this was still important amongst the less wealthy, the less material one had the less a formal and voluntary nuptial and its legalities mattered: yet the essential betrothals, although legally binding, did not require witnesses and were risky.  Originally the betrothal involved no religious element and was a personal and private civil contract, only to be entered into by the couple.  Nuptials took place at the church door with the priest only as witness to the sacrament made between the couple.  Betrothal, not the nuptial, signified the transition from friends to lovers, bestowing the right to sexual as well as social intimacy, but this was premised by the intention to marry.  Betrothals and nuptials remained separate until they were united after the Reformation as the propertied classes imposed their standards on the rest of society using an earlier Puritan concept of marriage to distinguish their formal wedding from the traditional alternatives.  Sexual expression can be controlled in a socially stable marriage, and by the reign of Elizabeth I weddings were conducted inside churches under tighter ecclesiastical and civil control.  Thus the modern Anglican wedding service includes both betrothals and nuptials, and sexual intercourse belongs within post-ceremonial marriage exclusively.

For Anglicans marriage is God-given, creative, and instinctive.  We believe that through marriage a man and a woman may learn and grow in love together and commitment is required of the couple to stay with each other “through changing circumstances, through personal development and growth, and through the process of growing older and approaching death”.  People marry because they love, and to be helped to love, for without marriage love would be exhausted and fail, perhaps harmfully.  Marriage is the central focus of relationships for a couple, around which other relationships grow.   Anglicans believe that “the grace of God in the Holy Spirit is given to all who enter marriage in the conscious desire to hear his call, seeking his strength to live together as they have promised;”  and that marriage is called to reflect the love that God has shown humanity in Jesus Christ.   Thus marriage in the context of worship is an important ministry.   Traditionally the three legitimate purposes or blessings of marriage are the procreation of children, remedy against sin and avoidance of fornication, and the mutual society, help and comfort which each affords the other in prosperity and adversity.
Yet the Church of England has moved away from emphasising procreation when the 1930 Lambeth Conference grudgingly approved contraception, aware that it is prudent and positive with limited resources within the family and humanity, a radical reassessment of a tradition the Church has shared since Augustine wrote De Bono Conjugali.  Moreover, the Church of England has moved away from emphasising avoidance of sin, in favour of emphasising marriage as “an intimate, pleasurable, and mutually supportive relationship,” assuming an equality impossible a century ago.  “Marriage has become a place for ‘godly conversation’, physical and spiritual... a pilgrimage for two, each learning the discipline of the other,” (Martin, 2007) powerfully modelling the Christian life.  Seen in these developments is a willingness to allow the outworking of traditional Christian principles, such as lifelong marriage, in practice to be shaped by pastoral realities and dilemmas, like marital breakdown.  The dynamic gospel tradition that is the Church’s apostolicity is thus embodied in our generations, the changes in human understanding forcing us to confront the possibility that settled essentials are now uncertain.  These dramatic and radical changes in the understanding of marriage reflect the movement of the Holy Spirit no less than did the abolition of slavery.
The developing understanding of what it is to be gay is integrated with these changes in human self-awareness.  Despite this and these radical breaks with its theological tradition of marriage, our Church demonstrates reluctance to a change what is already working itself out and, instead of offering a profound reflection upon what it means for us to be sexual beings, we, the Body of Christ, present ourselves as having an interest in sexuality in terms of control; instead of teaching intimacy and trust, communication and negotiation, or even forgiveness, we appear obsessed with who does what to whom in bed in a narrow reading of a Christian theology of sexuality.  We need to develop an honest, self-critical reception of our transformation, discerning those movements of change that are “not opposed to the providential will of God,”  to be more capable of creating and sustaining the Church in the twenty-first century.

As part of this reflection process, the 1987 Synod affirmed “that the biblical and traditional teaching on chastity and fidelity in personal relationships is a response to, and expression of, God’s [inclusive] love for each one of us,” whilst simultaneously excluding homosexual people by affirming “that homosexual genital acts fall short of this ideal.”  In 1991 Issues in Human Sexuality affirmed that “heterosexuality and homosexuality are not equally congruous with the observed order of creation or with the insights of revelation as the Church engages with these in the light of her pastoral ministry,” reaffirmed in 2003 by the House of Bishops’ Group on Issues in Human Sexuality.  For the authors scripture reveals “an evolving convergence on the ideal of lifelong, monogamous, heterosexual union as the setting intended by God for the proper development of men and women as sexual beings.”

The Bible is a multi-layered, flexible text through which our living God speaks.  Written contextually we cannot read it with the same meaning it had when written, or at any other point in history.  We hold different interpretations in tension and live with the ambiguity to search for the right balance in our dynamic apostolic tradition.  Richard Hooker argued that it was not self-evident from scripture but “must be by reason founde out” which of the scriptural examples and precedents are always to be followed, and which “the Church hath power to alter” when “it manifestly appears to her that change of times have clearly taken away the very reasons of God’s first institution”.  Jesus also set the example with his radical attitude to ethics and his disregard for the written law when this conflicted with the commandment of love.  It is right to re-examine traditional views of biblical teaching, especially when the biblical theology of marriage is rich and diverse, holding in tension remedium with its sexual pessimism and sacramentum which inserts conjugal love into the love of Christ for the Church.

Marriage and celibacy are gifts of God in creation:  those called to marriage renounce the freedom of the single-life, accept the sorrows of marriage, and submit to the needs of spouse and children; those called to celibacy or temporary singleness renounce the joys of sexual intercourse and the possibility of enjoying family life.  Yet homosexual people are like all people and share humanity’s drives and desires to find fulfilment in union with another as well as in union with God, even while the sex of the person they can love is different and sexual fulfilment through genital activity can only be with a member of the same sex.  Our current tradition, therefore, offers a choice between evils, either allowing oneself most of the sexually ambiguous responses that fall short of any complete sexual fulfilment for oneself or one’s partner, or attempting the impossible task of rigorously suppressing every sexual response in an imposed and uncalled celibacy.  The presumption that homosexuals are called to the positive vocation of celibacy is demeaning to genuine celibates, and the gift of ceremonial marriage is not an option within the Anglican tradition.  Yet what should we call the presence of committed, long-term partnerships recognised by civil law between adults of the same sex?  It is the fact that husband and wife are baptised which gives the marriage its sacramentality.  “Marriages are made in heaven”(Barth, 1961): a couple who have exchanged consent and who have sexual intercourse may be married, under Barth’s accepted concept of marriage, for marriage belongs to creation and redemption.

A significant cultural change is taking place as those who self-identify as homosexual have increasingly sought to ‘marry’ in publically recognised unions from the early 1980s culminating in the civil partnership recognition in 2004, even though many had chosen to live in monogamous, committed relationships for many decades since decriminalisation in 1967.  Concurrent to this change is a shift in biblical interpretation, each affecting the other; and this is a repeated pattern.  Society retrospectively recognises views like slavery as out-dated and mistaken, forgetting that such views emerged from Scripture.  Archbishop Moore in the 1790s supported the continuation of the slave trade as a legitimate occupation for a Christian; a hundred years later, Archbishop Benson affirmed that girls under 16 should be allowed to be given in marriage, today considered child-abuse.  Another century on, the increasingly redundant absolute condemnation of same-sex intimacy relies on an abstract fundamentalist deployment of very ambiguous texts and a non-scriptural theory about natural complementarity.  We have to look for a fuller sexual ethic that is seriously informed by scripture, not based on the flat citation of isolated texts.  We need to be enabled to read the Bible in life-giving ways when exploring sexuality rather than the cacophony of discrimination of the past, ostensibly authorised by scripture.  We need to be predisposed towards settling for a life-enhancing interpretation whilst retaining high critical and scholarly standards.

Even as there are parts of scripture about marriage which are not life-giving, “justifying violence against women and stereotyping them as whores deserving punishment” (Thatcher, 1999), there are difficult biblical texts that exclude homosexual couples as ‘contrary to nature’ and ‘abominations’, since for Jews it was repugnant for men to be penetrated as this treated a man as an inferior woman in their patriarchal society.  Continuing this pattern, conservative Anglicans in the Church of England relate homosexuality to a disease and prostitution – a sin of abuse.  Likewise, Ugandan Anglicans at the 1998 Lambeth Conference related homosexual behaviour to bestiality and paedophilia.  Our discussions about these scriptures and traditions must address their effects on those marginalised, Christian brothers and sisters who are homosexual.

Conservative Christians argue that Genesis 1 and 2 contend that human sexual differentiation is integral to humanity’s creation in the image of God, and that, if not marriage, sexual relationship between men and women is the culmination.  The former notion ignores the proportion of Christians who, being created intersex, do not fit sexual bifurcation and challenge the Church’s ethical thinking; the latter notion overlooks scholarship that argues Genesis 1 and 2 is one “of the origins of the sexual drive and the need for relationship and human community, not the institution of marriage” (Mein, 2007).  The God-given need for relationship exposed in Genesis 2 and symbolised in sexuality is thus discounted for those who are not heterosexual.  Yet an alternate contention exists: Adam, as the representative of all humanity, chooses his partner, a choice God respects; therefore, it is “God’s will for each of us to find the partner we delight in, and God will be prepared to respect our choice” (Mein, 2007), and the Church already accepts this for people who are intersex.

Continuing the life-giving interpretation, we recognise that several biblical writers turn to sexuality to speak of the “complex and costly faithfulness between God and God’s people” (Williams, 1989); sexuality is celebrated in the Song of Songs as allegorical of divine love.  This faithfulness reached its culmination on the cross and is exemplified in the Eucharist; this faithfulness is God desiring us as if we are God, “as if we were that unconditional response to God’s giving that God’s self makes in the life of the trinity”  (Williams, 1989).  This faithfulness, this desire, this transformational grace shining through the Eucharist enlightens our understanding of sexuality even as our sexuality enlightens our understanding of God’s faithfulness in the Eucharist.  This is the love of God that we are called to understand and it is this that is central to the debate about homosexual relationships.

Sexuality is therefore about communion, and expresses mutual generosity, of a love which “gives itself to the Other in the interests of the Other” (Thiselton, 1995) .  This Jesus expresses as he gives us his body, and thus our being is ultimately from God, a gift of every moment.  So should the expression of our sexuality: sexual intercourse is saying, deeply, with one’s body, “I give myself to you without reserve, now and for ever, and I receive all you are as a gift” (Radcliffe, 2007).  This other-regarding love of God that exists within the Trinity and which is communicated through Christ and the work of the Spirit is incarnated in Christian marriage, the theology of which should seek to affirm genuinely other-affirming relationships.  Trinitarian and incarnation theology, therefore, leads us to accept and celebrate same­sex relationships  for the life of the Christian community has as its rationale the task of teaching us grace, of knowing we are significant, we are wanted.   Christians in a same-sex sexual civil partnership are living out marriage in a way which is elevated by the fact that each is acting out the role of Christ loving his Church by giving his life for the other, and the Church has begun to recognise this.

Yet incarnational theology, even while leading us to this inclusion, makes demands upon us who have the Spirit working in us to live in Christ.  Our sexuality operates on a more ambiguous level than the clear-cut rules of our tradition, for what part sexuality plays in any relationship (Mat. 5:28) is only known within oneself and God.  As we present ourselves as living sacrifices, every sexualised response should be a matter for moral care, but because explicit sexual acts are currently forbidden in every situation for a homosexual, life quickly becomes unendurable under this demand.  Since sexual behaviours are not neutral and are holistically bound to our faith,  the extant marriage rules are necessary but inadequate for today’s society.  They need to continue to change in response to collective discernment about human need and dignity, which is the work of the Spirit in the Body of Christ, the Church,  as they already have about contraception.

The Church must constantly proclaim that God’s plan for humanity is not arbitrary,  but the ‘traditional pattern of family life’, based on the eighteenth-nineteenth century development, is not ‘best’ for society moving into the twenty-first century.  Sexual intercourse, practised within the gift of marriage as a sign of the unconditional love that is shared within the Trinity and into which humanity is invited, is a beautiful celebration of the mutuality of the relationship as each reaffirms desire for the other, reflecting the Eucharist.  They become ‘one flesh’, a spiritual and physical union, an act of personal commitment that is an expression of the relationship.  It becomes impossible to see why this does not apply to two men or two women who are committed to each other in this sense of mutuality, with tenderness, and neither force nor pressure on the other, and who are seeking a union which brings their lives together as fully and completely as possible.  Why does the Church of England, which declares that all who share one bread are one body, condemn some of its members in committed relationships bearing fruits of the Spirit, who are innately homosexual, for committing sin when they desire to act on, express, and deepen their love?

The Church of England should bless same-sex sexual unions to give them a life, a reality, so they have freedom to ‘take time’, to mature and become as profoundly nurturing as they can.  The covenanted love of a couple should be celebrated by the Church so that it ‘may be caught up into the Spirit’s proper work of doing these things for the love of the Father and the Son’ in the eternal dance of the Trinity: thus these ‘marriages made in heaven’ become mimeses of God.  The Church’s crucial role is to assist couples to ground their being in this transcendental dimension, to offer all couples a positive theological understanding of their relationship, to help them realise the hope, the ideal, of secure, faithful, life-long love.

The Ministry of the Big Toe (continued)

I shouldn’t have been so surprised when I was ordained deacon whilst in the midst of meningitis; the bible I was handed by the Bishop had the normal label in the front of it stating that it was presented to me, etc, but it was attached to the front cover with a post-stik scribbled with the immortal words, ‘to be stuck in’.  To be stuck in.  How much is this a definition of the deaconate in the Church of England – not yet Priests; not yet fully fledged; not yet real; to be stuck in: and how much is it also a definition of the training curacy as a whole?  Some of the clergy and laity certainly share this view – as one priest remarked about me to a parishioner, “You can ignore him;” and whilst this was said in some jest, it still stung.  Yet ‘to be stuck in’ is probably something that can be post­stik’d to the church as a whole, and priests, and especially deacons and priests in their curacy, epitomise this – that we are all being formed and moulded by the Holy Spirit.  We are all ‘to be stuck in’.

After ten years of teaching, I know I know nothing; after two years at Cambridge I know I understand nothing; after eight months as a deacon I know I can do nothing.  I’m hoping this is the beginning of wisdom.  All I can know is the smallest window into the immeasurability of God, and even then through clouded glass.  It’s like the refractions of light I see dancing across the wall opposite the church’s prie-dieu as dawn rises through the old glass during Morning Prayer – beautiful, but nothing like the glory of the sun.  All I can understand is the tiniest inkling of the inestimable love of God and try to join in with the tapestry.

There is something about relaxing into self, into being (getting quite ‘ontological’ now), into finding that you don’t have to fit a certain shaped hole.  The last curate may have been a round peg, but that doesn’t mean that you have to be.  Your incumbent might be a chiliagon, but that doesn’t mean
that you have try to grow into that (although you might hope to).  The Holy Spirit seems to want you to be you, and be you shaped in the church... and this doesn’t change just because you’ve got an odd collar on.  And the Holy Spirit probably knows what shape you are better than you do.  Better to trust.

I visited a gentleman in hospital, aged 102: he mistook me for my incumbent, as all he could see was the black shirt and white collar.  Without his teeth, he struggled to tell me of his life and how all he wanted now was to go ‘home’; ‘I know where I’m going, I just want to get there now, I just need to die’.  His body slowly shrinking into death, his vitality and strength that had so blessed his life were, near his ending, his problems as his body refused to shut down week after week, month after month.  Whilst I held his hands and prayed with him, I wasn’t myself to him: ‘I’ was the vicar he had known and trusted; ‘me’ was put to one side whilst ‘I’ was someone else.

Do these two ideas contradict each other?  Are they not mutually exclusive?  How can one be oneself and be someone else at the same time?  Or am I suggesting that I should be, as one of my ancestors was described, ‘more willow than oak’ – all things to all, bending one way and then the other?  There has to be flexibility, but I’m increasingly finding that you have to be authentically yourself, whilst inhabiting something greater.  This sometimes feels like a difficult burden and sometimes like an immense privilege – and both are no doubt true.

I’m finding a lot of these tensions, and I’m enjoying reflecting on them; thus I started this reflection with rambles through the glass-half-empty and the glass-still-filling.  Holding these tensions are important, not letting either side tip the balance.  We have to be comforters and afflicters, assurers and doubters, and optimists and realists.  Whilst I find the church utterly ridiculous, I also find it utterly serious.  Whilst it continually frustrates me, it also brings such joy.

I find myself turning to poetry and psalm to aid my understanding, first with words by Micheal O’Siadhail:

Angel

A stumbling over stones of ancient agonies.
The self-same questions as once in Job’s cry.

Even the same answers.  How it’s beyond us.
A threshold.  Hast thou with him spread out the sky?

Departures.  Successions.  A zillionth in a hugeness.
My words are frivolous.  How can I try to reply?

Or because you’ve loved, you’re trusting to surprise.
One final show of confidence in Madam Jazz.

Sacrifice.  The old song of the bruised servant.
Then, when the angel comes, to want to say yes.

Stumbling over the stones of ancient agonies,
I begin this long apprenticeship of assent.

                              From Our Double Time (1998), Bloodaxe

David Ford says of Micheal’s work, “there is a wrestling for meaning, with no easy solutions – both the form and the content are hard-won”.  I think this is probably true for the ordained ministry.  The same questions and answers, with slightly different nuances, different phrasings in each generation.  Authority and power versus wisdom and servanthood.  Being oneself versus being the collar.

‘How can I try to reply?’ and ‘How shall I sing that majesty?’ are questions that weigh in the heart every time I try to write a sermon and illuminate in words and poetry and prose that glimpse through the window of the rising dawn.  I can do nothing: let dust in dust and silence lie.

‘Sacrifice’ and ‘to want to say yes’ as we try to live out the first disciple’s – Mary’s – call: Lord treasure up my mite.  And probably Micheal’s last line most poignant: ‘Stumbling... I begin this long apprenticeship of assent.’

Psalm 131: Domine, non est

Lord, I am not high-minded: I have no proud looks.

I do not exercise myself in great matters: which are too high for me.

But I refrain my soul, and keep it low, like as a child that is weaned from his mother: yea, my soul is even as a weaned child.

O Israel, trust in the Lord: from this time forth for evermore.

If Micheal O’Siadhail’s ‘Angel’ phrases my thoughts, psalm 131 echoes my prayers.  My eyes are not raised up too high: the words and concepts expressed here first became important to me – or at least I realised their importance – at a Greenbelt service presided over by the Rev’d Maggie Dawn.  She had prepared a traditional Mass, but with modern music and chants, and lava lamps instead of candles.  But this is slightly beside the point.  Set to modern chords, this psalm came alive.  Since then it has been a source of inner quiet in my life – a passage that I could turn to in times of disquiet.  Whilst preparing for BAP, these words formed part of my daily routine and became a backbone of prayer.  Still today I turn to them.  They offer a way of trust in God, of letting go of arrogance and pride, of finding that inner peace that the Holy Spirit provides.  They help me pray, ‘Thy will be done’, especially at times when I might otherwise feel disappointed or let down.  They provide me with hope, that sure and certain hope, that God knows the way and God knows the plan.

The Ministry of the Big Toe

I first wrote this last year before I was ordained Priest as part of my 'Deacon's Essay' that was sent to my Bishop, +Paul Hertford. It's probably a good place to start with this blog.

And the ram of ordination was slaughtered.
Moses took some of its blood and put it on the lobe of Aaron’s right ear and
on the thumb of his right hand and on the big toe of his right foot.
Leviticus 8:23

 With this ‘big toe’, Father James cracked and hiccupped a laugh; Fathers Simon and Joseph were not far behind as the solemn team Evening Prayer broke to let the Holy Spirit in.

Church is so ridiculous most of the time that it is a                                  Church is so full of life, in all its glories,

wonder that anyone would want to be part of it.                                 so full of welcome and friendship that I don’t

I increasingly wonder, as I talk to people in the pub or                               know how people can not be part of it.

when I’m out walking the dog, what stops people                              When I talk to people whilst out walking the

from getting to know the loving God who reached out to me                               dog or drinking a pint in the pub,

and called me to this life. Our scripture – that which                                     it is obvious that they are searching

some inaccurately call the Word of God – contains verses                             for something greater and need the

and chapters that are completely                             guidance the people of the church – God’s priestly people –

out of tune with ‘modern’ society: the lighter ones, like                                   can offer in the way they try to live.

the bloody big toe, make us laugh; but                              Take the laughter that broke into Evening Song: many

others make us cringe when we read or hear them                              think that church is purely a solemn affair,

(i.e. ‘Happy shall they be who take your little ones and                         yet there have been numerous occasions

dash them against the rock!’ Psalm 137:9).                           In my first year of ministry as a deacon, and before,

This year we celebrate the 400th anniversary of the                              when God has given us joy over sorrow or

King James (Authorised) translation, but I                                 frustration; and this extends to how we approach

ponder whether the ‘accessibility’ of the written word                               scripture, reading it with the rose-tinted

has decreased the accessibility of the Word. Don’t                            spectacles that is the love of God, enjoying

get me wrong, now: I’m not harkening back to having church in                            the anachronisms for what they

Latin or Greek; but there is something about                                are, and letting the Word of God speak through

communicating the gospel                                them. And if the ‘unchurched’ and ‘dechurched’ of our generation

that we miss when we have scripture more at                                know little or nothing of scripture – and maybe

hand than the Word. ‘A little knowledge is                                  confused about the little they do know, then this

a dangerous thing’, and a lot of people, a lot of                              is a great opportunity for us to lead them to an

the ‘unchurched’ know a little about the                            understanding that is in tune with both their experience

gospel – but the little they know is either confusing or                             of God and their modern or post-modern

childish or contradictory. Likewise the most publicised                              mind-sets. Even our public arguments

‘teachings’ of the church that they know                           about women bishops and gay clergy are opportunities

so often seem out of touch and at                              for they raise debate in the public space; they demonstrate

odds with both the sensibilities                               that the church is not a monolith; they illuminate areas of our

of the public and the love that they                          society where difference still causes tension and oppression,

encounter from God – a love they so often fail                                  where women are still paid as second-class 

to recognise. And then there’s what                                          citizens and gay men and women are denied the

we get up to in church: from the mysterious                                opportunities that others take for granted. And if

actions of the high church with bells                                 we seem like squabbling teenagers while having these

and smells, to the happy clappy,                         debates, then this is because we are reflecting our society that

wave-your-arms-in-the-air-like-you-just-don’t-care bunch,                                is still very childish when set before

to the BCP mumblers, etc, etc.;                         Jesus. Perhaps the church in all its diversity and community, all

each in their own way inaccessible unless you’re                          its arguments and welcomes can offer society

already in the know, like                            the better Way afterall; perhaps in our childishness, we are still being

it’s some secret society.                                     formed into Ambassadors for the Kingdom of God, that society

                                                                    where the love of God is continuously breaking forth like the dawn.