lurchersontheedge

Trinity Sunday is I am afraid to say my favourite holy day

I am aware that might sound strange, but one might imagine that you are getting used to me by now, and realise that strangeness might well be my middle name, the initial being of course ‘S’.

Someone should have asked the question, ‘why is Trinity Sunday your favourite holy day’. Surely, the Easter triptych of Good Friday, Holy Saturday and Easter day should be more than enough competition; that is without mentioning Christmas, the Ascension, Pentecost or the Patronal.

I do not delight in Trinity Sunday because of the opportunity that it presents to come up with an innovative explanative of how the three persons in the Godhead: Father, Son and Spirit relate to one another

–          ice, water and steam for example

–          the three parts of the shamrock leaf

–          or the fact that someone could be a mother, daughter and sister

Each illustration has its merits, but each does not do justice to how the Godhead interrelates; and indeed each one might be considered ever so slightly heretical.

I do not enjoy Trinity Sunday because it gives me the opportunity to dust off some of my weightier theological tomes, and indulge in some further study of the Early Church fathers. That of course would not be a bad thing; and indeed I believe that if the church loses touch with its theological forebears it will become a pale imitation of what it is meant to be.

Trinity Sunday is my favourite holy day because it reminds me of the fact that to we know God because we have experienced God.

God and God’s mission make total and complete sense in worship

For the Christian, God as Trinity becomes clear in the context of worship, particularly I suggest the Eucharist.

Worship is that point in time when we encounter and are changed. That is its purpose. God meets us so that we can see both what we are; but also what we could be. Worship is you and I accepting the invitation of God to change and be changed. Worship of the living God can be nothing other than participating in changing the world. It has never been, nor is or can be a neutral activity.

Bishop Tom Wright has said repeatedly that declaring the Lordship of God is a statement that also embraces that other gods do not have dominion and power.

Isaiah encounters the living in God in worship

Little is known about the prophet.

We know he is probably in the Temple. We are told that he sees God in the royal court, with cherubim and seraphim attending God. For Isaiah, heaven and earth intermingle as worship happens.

That is perhaps a difficult concept to get hold of; but words are stretched when we describe God.

The Eucharist has been seen as the cosmic feast. This is true within Eastern Orthodox theology as much as in the theology of the Church of England.

Isaiah hears the words of the Sanctus

We will sing the words of the Sanctus later

We are told that the glory of God fills the world

Being court up in worship was not a neutral act for the prophet.

He acknowledges that before God, he stands inadequate and short of glory.

When in our liturgy we come to the point of receiving the Eucharist, when perhaps we see the glory of God, we respond with the words, ‘we do not presume’.

One of the heavenly creatures comes to Isaiah, putting a burning coal to his lips. Worship is not just a cerebral act – although for people like me that is important – it is also something that touches all our senses.

For Isaiah this was a time of absolution, of being released from sin –

Sin is one of the loaded words – we trivialise it by assuming that sin is always big concrete things, rather than anything that

(a) takes away God’s rightful place in our lives and the world

(b) prevents us from being fully who God created us to be

Isaiah is absolved

In consequence he is free to choose in with the mission of God

We promise to join in with God’s mission every week, as we are dismissed.

Worship of necessity changes us

If we are not changed; we are not worshipping

How do we experience the Trinity in our worship?

–          Father-focused

–          Son-mediated

–          Spirit-led

Liturgy

Please change us, so that we can change the world

Without that worship however beautiful will be a clanging gong

Lord God, we thank you for this wonderful and diverse city of Birmingham in which we live and serve. We give thanks for the goodness, grace and compassion that Councillor Anita Ward has brought to the office of Lord Mayor. We pray that our new Lord Mayor will continue to uphold the fine traditions of the office: dignity, inclusivity and justice. We ask this in the name of Christ our Lord.

Rather peculiarly, I found myself offering a prayer (the one above in fact) at the Mayor Making in Birmingham Council House yesterday afternoon.

Inclusity, Justice, Compassion and Grace are things that I will be praying for my city over the next year. I will be praying such things for our new Lord Mayor too, but the nature of a city does not depend on one person, but on all us together.

These features are all hallmarks of the kingdom. Thus in the Council Chamber, in our homes, in our pubs, curry houses and schools; in our hospitals, care homes, bookies and shops, may we all be minded to say, ‘thy kingdom, thy will be done on earth as much as it is in heaven’ (translation mine).

I am spending two days with Practical Theologians in Brum early next week. What follows is my brief biographicalish reasons for wanting to look at the Bible and Practical Theology. I hope this will endenger some discussion on Monday and Tuesday, but thought the ball might wish to move before that. Let’s talk.

I am driven by one overarching question at the moment, which can be applied in a variety of different contexts. The question is ‘how is the Bible to make sense or be meaningful pastorally with, for and by those who have little knowledge of its contents’.

Such a question is as relevant to those who might regard themselves as regular worshippers in a church context as well as those that do not express their religious convictions formally. In the settings in which I have served as a priest, the areas have been outer estate parishes (largely white British in ethnic origin and meeting many of indexes of multiple deprivation) and the congregations invariably have been ‘gentle catholic’ in their liturgy and practice. Those familiar with the liturgy of such churches will not be surprised by the amount of Scripture that is read aloud (Old Testament, Psalm, Epistle and Gospel) on Sunday mornings and on other Holy Days; and indeed is peppered liberally throughout the liturgical structure of the service; and yet knowledge and understanding of biblical books are quite weak. Bible reading outside of church services apart from practising to read within them is rare. I am aware congregations which are by self-definition ‘evangelical’ might find such a situation strange; it is though my observation that even within contexts where scripture is regarded ‘automatically’ as authoritative, knowledge and understanding of the sacred texts is not as strong as it was even 20 years ago.

Making sense of the Bible pastorally within the local congregations:

Given where I have served as a priest, much of my focus is trying to discern how the Bible might make sense in areas of significant deprivation. I am attracted by allowing people to tell their own ‘sacred’ stories. This in part is inspired by theologies of liberation and the work of groups like UNLOCK (www.unlock-urban.org.uk) and the Bible Society. I am also influenced by biblical scholarship produced in recent years by both N T Wright (Tom Wright) and Walter Brueggemann which have set great store in there being one overarching meta-narrative to salvation history; broken down into specific episodes, for example Exodus and Incarnation. Whilst theologically and pastorally it might make sense to connect our individual stories to the larger drama, how is this to be done when members of local churches increasingly do not know ‘the story’? This will be true of traditional models of Church, as well as of Fresh Expressions. Of the latter, many come to the Messy Church, which is led within my local church, without prior knowledge of the Christian story. Thus interpreting life issues in the light of the biblical text would be largely impossible, impractical and alien.

I have had some success in relating specific parts of the Bible (e.g. the Psalms and the Revelation) to the individual stories of people and churches, but am trying to engage with how this might be done with the sacred text as a composite whole (see ‘the Priest as Theologian’ JATE 1.2 (December 2004))

Making sense of the Bible pastorally with those outside of the Church:

Much of my time with those outside of church is spent either with the bereaved (preparing for, officiating at funerals and follow-up), preparing people for the baby being done and within the life of schools (primary and secondary). I have reflected a little on my experiences in ‘Working Class Dreams, Working Class God’ The Expository Times June 2010 vol. 121 no. 9 437-446. In most of these contexts, knowledge and understanding of the Bible and indeed of the Christian faith is limited. In all, there is always a desire to engage if time is taken to try to explain the relevance of faith.

Grace Davie noted, ‘The discrepancy between believing and belonging… is at its sharpest in urban working class areas. Here belief persists, but the expected reluctance to practice religion is compounded by a further factor, a mistrust of institutional life of whatever kind, the churches included.’ It is my observation, assertion, experience that this situation has moved on. People in urban areas want to be part of something larger, of an interdependent story’ if only to bring life to some lifeless situations, yet they do not look to the Church for such stories.

This does not mean that it is not possible for this to happen. In Bartley Green, the church runs a Youth Project, which is local council funded, which provides a safe place for young people, mentoring and help with training. It also is in the process of setting up a Food Bank. Both church members and those in the community believe such projects to be good things and do not question the church being involved these initiatives; but neither group make the connection between mentoring young people or feeding those in need with the Christian faith, as expressed in sacred stories found in the Bible.

In a previous context St Nicholas Church in Flimby hosted an art exhibition in October 2008 entitled Hungry and Thirsty displaying the work of Gloucester based artist, Paul Hobbs (www.arthobbs.com). Flimby is a former mining village, which sits between the Solway towns of Maryport and Workington. Whilst St Nicholas boasts a usual Sunday congregation of 18, Hungry and Thirsty attracted 422 people through the doors of the building over the course of 8 days. Adults and children alike were captivated by art work that touched on social issues such as old age, identity and fatherhood. Very few of the people who visited the exhibition would have been unaware of the attempt that was being made to relate faith, art and social issues. A piece of work captured the imagination of local people. It was entitled ‘Where’s your Daddy gone?’ For children, this raised comments such as, ‘I never knew my Dad’, ‘Dad does not live with us any more’, ‘I have a new Dad’. Adults lamented about their own experiences of parenting. Those observing the art work were surprised that the artist was inspired by the biblical stories, and again neither churchgoer nor non-churchgoer thought the Bible had stories that would speak to their situation. The Bible and the pastoral situation then are kept at arm’s length by both those in the church as well as those within the wider community.

I do not have any ready answers to use as templates that will help us remedy this situation, but I do remain convinced that it is through engaging with the scriptures that people of Christian faith begin to be able to convincingly tell their own stories; and that without being able to articulate the stories/rumours of God to those around them, then the purpose of the church, other than doing good works, remains hidden.

My research and praxis has not reached an articulate stage, but somewhat haphazardly seeks to bring my love of the stories of the scriptures together with the lives of the people with whom I worship, serve and live.

A different take perhaps

The central feature of the Christian faith is our belief that God has revealed what he is like uniquely and, some including myself would say, exclusively in Jesus Christ. In short, Jesus for Christians – and for the world, for as Peter is proud to say to the ruling council in Jerusalem in the Acts of the Apostles, ‘Salvation’ which means wholeness, life and abundant living is ‘found though him (Christ) alone – becomes the pattern for living. Such a pattern is not just to be admired, but followed, embraced and identified with. Put simply Jesus calls us to follow him and be like him. In order to follow the call, we must first hear the voice; which is an appropriate starting point for Vocation Sunday. The term ‘vocation’ has often been taken to refer to someone having a calling usually religious, artistic or in the caring professions.

Thus Lis is called to the priesthood

Thus Colin is called to use his musical talents to enable us to worship

Thus Jennifer is called to be a GP

There is nothing wrong with those three statements; and for what it is worth, I think each one may well be true. However, the term ‘vocation’ comes from the Latin word vocare which has a much fuller meaning than ‘a call’; it means ‘to listen to the voice’. For me at least this is important: vocation begins by cultivating the ability to listen.

Vocation is not though restricted to roles within the Church or within society, community or indeed family – although it could include all of these strands.

What is our vocation?

The problem quickly becomes that we become fenced by thinking it always is do with Church

–       read

–       pray

–       lead the Sunday school

–       join the PCC

To leave it at that means that we restrict God, and there is a hierarchy which does ourselves and God a disservice

–       Teaching in Sunday School becomes less important than preaching

–       Serving at the altar is deemed to be less than cleaning

–       arranging the flowers less than singing in the choir

All of this is just plainly wrong! We think such things are true because we have lost the ability to listen.

Our vocation begins with our calling to be human.

Personally speaking, I find it easier to fulfil my calling to be a priest than to be human.

Why would I suggest that being human is basic vocation?

Our Scriptures would tell us that we are made in the image of God. We ourselves are aware that sometimes we do not a good job of being human. We allow ourselves to be less than we can be. This might be through thinking than we are better than we are; although my experience of most Christians is that it is often the other way round. Human beings are called to be the image of God. There is perhaps no greater calling.

Vocation for Christians however does not stop there. It continues with our baptism. This is why within our context; godparents are asked specific questions, which are re-affirmed at our confirmation. We are asked by the Bishop. Before anything else then our baptism gives us the following vocation

Will you continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in prayers?                                                                                         

Will you persevere in resisting evil, and whenever you fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord?                                                                                                          

Will you proclaim by word and example the good news of God in Christ?                

Will you seek and serve Christ in all people loving your neighbour as yourself?     

Will you acknowledge Christ’s authority over all human society, by prayer for the world and its leaders, by defending the weak, and by seeking peace and justice?

It is a vocation to worship, discipleship, mission, service and proclamation. Or as our strap line on our news letter puts it:

Worshipping, learning, sharing and serving together

But for all of this we are given a pattern: Jesus Christ.

The Apostle John writes, “This is how we know what love is. Christ gave his life for us. We too, then, ought to give our lives for others’.

Or as Jesus puts: I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.

At the heart of the Christian calling then is a self-sacrificial love. Like the good theologian he is, John immediately gives us a practical example. Our love should not be just words and talk; it must be true love, which shows itself in action.

Our calling is to love one another.

That is the easy part.

Love in action requires us to get involved – to get stuck in or to get a little messy.

Our calling is to love one another in the context of community – in the context of relationships.

I find it very easy to love someone that I am never with. They never irritate me. They never catch me off guard.

This community – in this (holy) place has a particular calling – to love the people of this Parish.

Our Church is a community that has been called together. The name church (ekklesia) means a community that it is called together. We share the same baptismal vows. We have made the same commitments when we have re-affirmed our faith. Our duty and our joy is to proclaim Christ to other; calling them to follow him. We do this by demonstrating our love; which is earthy and practical more than it is a wonderfully fashioned concept.

This is not an easy task. This is why we must rediscover our vocation. Our vocation which begins in listening! It begins in listening to a God who has shown us how to live and calls us to be like his Son.

It may be that you are called to read in Church

It may be that you are called to be part of the welcome team

It may be that you are called to lead Junior Church

It may be that you are called to join the cleaning team

Or alternatively

It may you are called to spend time with a neighbour

It may you are called to play Bingo on a Tuesday afternoon

Most importantly you are called to reflect God’s image; and as you do so, your friends, neighbours and family members may look at you as members of the Jerusalem council looked at the apostles and thought they had been with Jesus.

All this is possible because God raised Jesus, who had died, to life – and he lives so we can have life and sets us free to be human: to live, love, laugh, walk and talk. In all this, we bear the image who of the one who is alive for evermore.

Let us pray

I wrote this to an individual after an encounter. It is rough and ready; and offered in a spirit of grace.

To a sister on my journey (reflections used with permission)

I am basically an evo (an evangelical). I am though deeply ashamed at some of my evangelical brothers and sisters for the way they have pilloried the gay community, and gay christians in particular. There I have said it.

I treasure deeply the scriptures. I happen to believe that they are divinely inspired. I believe that when interepreted correctly they are authoritative for Christian belief and praxis. I also think it cannot be avoided the the scriptures say some things, often pointed, about sexual ethics. This is not surprising given that sexual relationships and sexuality are at the heart of what it means to be human.

I have, like many millions of others, studied what the scriptures say about same sex relationships. I am not completely sure what each text says and how to apply it. I am sure that the scriptures are completely clear that venom, abuse and nastiness towards another human being are totally out of line.

Therefore when I hear and see those who cherish the scriptures behaving in such an appalling manner; it does seem to me to suggest that the God they worship is not the one revealed constantly in both testaments as a God who welcomes all without question.

I have recently had opportunity to meet with a Gay priest in a similar setting to mine. She is as committed to the scriptures as I am; to forming community, confronting those who oppress; loves the creeds, traditions as much as I do. Is into fresh expressions, inherited church; and as far as I can see, God blesses her ministry.

You cannot base your whole theology on a single case study. But there is no doubt that this would be replicated by other examples. All I am left with is this.

Her lifestyle might well be one that I am not comfortable with. But who am I to judge; for when I measure my own life by the demands of the scriptures, I am found wanting to. But God in grace blesses me.

So to my new friend, I am sorry that some of my colleagues cause you desperate pain at times. I trust that I will never ever again be caught up with such a cacophony of brutal rage. And that whilst I still have questions, confront those who do damage to the body of Christ and the reputation of his holy church.

(ends)

I have just returned from Scotland. Just inside really. We have a cottage in a village near Annan. Annan is the place which the Scottish poet, Robert Burns called the ‘wild place’. I am not sure but it is borderland. This is geographically true, the terrain and colour of the Dumfries and Carlisle area are similar. The Solway is, for me, beautiful. It is borderland. In many ways it is place where land, water and sky meet. It is a place where for me heaven and earth might touch.

It is a place for me of re-membering. This borderland area does not have the happiest of memories for me; although I have re-discovered precious friendships over the last few days.

Perhaps it is only in the wild places that we can piece things together; in the borderlands where jagged things can be made smooth.

I had a wonderful Lent, Holy Week and Easter. We did lots of good stuff together, which can be found elsewhere on this blog. One day I promise to ‘tidy the blog up’ a little. This Easter week has been a little surreal, given that I have had a plethora of funerals, conversations and watched a rather wonderful police raid take place at the local shops. I use the words rather wonderful is a slightly ironic fashion.

It strikes me yet again that what I do is bumble. I know I have said this before on a number of occasions.

I stood for about an hour talking to others yesterday about the police raid. Each of us was watching; but we talked about what they were doing. We chatted about the police dogs; the weather and life. In middle of all that, I took a booking for a bab to be done; which roughly translated is Brummie for ‘can my child receive one of the sacraments of the Church of England?’ (baptism or christening). Time was just spent observing and being.

I wonder why I do not do more of this; especially when I know it is appreciated, effective and I actually feel quite good in myself about it.

Is it because it is too costly? It takes time of course; time that could perhaps be better spent beginning my tax return (I do think about it even this early), dealing with the forthcoming APCM, filling in a form for a faculty – again I am specialising a little in irony. I wonder whether it is too costly because it requires us to be human – and it is such a long time since priests were just encouraged to be human.

Perhaps it is costly because it is also encourages us to be alive in the presence of others.

To bumble is then an amazing thing; an act of generosity, because it allows us to touch and be touched. Now that is a scary sacred thought for this season of Easter.

Some small reflections that will be offered in Bartley Green on the Second Sunday of Easter

Fully alive. 2nd of Easter

There are so many of us that it is easy to get us confused. I am normally called by my husband’s name; the wife of Clopas.

I am a follower of Jesus. I am proud to be identified with him. I was proud to stand by his cross, to take him to the tomb, and I was proud to go with his mother, another Mary and Mary of Magdala to the tomb early on what has become the first day of the week.

You see I am proud to be his Aunt, I watched him grow up. Clopas was Joseph’s brother. I was involved in the beginning when stories were swirling about when Mary had become pregnant. She told me everything. Joseph told Clopas everything – well in a silent masculine sort of way. So I actually I knew more than most. One thing is for sure, Joseph loved Mary’s firstborn to bits. You would never ever have known. But that is another story.

What was going to happen in Jerusalem was always going to happen. Jesus was an intelligent man. He knew that his actions would cause concern. I am not saying the family approved of all he did, Jacob and Joses, his brothers did not; although Jacob has changed his tune now. But that is his story. I think Aunts can be a little more distant and weigh things up a little more impartially.

Nevertheless, it was the worst day of my life watching him die. He seemed in control, which I suppose was odd really. It was the worst day possible for his Mother, and to do it without the support of Joseph of blessed memory and of her children. I think they will be slightly ashamed of themselves now; I hope so, if they do not want to feel the force of my tongue.

She had told me of the time when Jesus was dedicated, and an old priest, Simon or perhaps Simeon was his name, had told her that the child she cradled would cause her pain as if sword were to pierce her soul. I think it was far worse than that. Imagine watching helpless, as your child dies.

He was brave – you would not have known it though by the look of him. He was not that attractive at all.

Then we buried him and waited.

I would like to say I knew it all along; but even favourite Aunts don’t know everything.

The tomb was empty.

His grave clothes were folded up neatly. Joseph had always insisted he tidied up after himself.

Then Mary of Magdala said she has seen him.

Clopas and our friend Jairus when off to Emmaus. I stayed with Mary.

The men were back – they had seen him

Peter said he had seen him too.

and Mary saw him. That was a nice touch.

I never did. But I know it to be true.

I cannot stop any more, I have to be about the father’s business. That was something he said to his mum a long time ago.

He was a year older than me. We played together in the carpenter’s shop. Our hands were skilled at the plane and the lathe.

He got to do things before I did, taken to the Temple, learning the Torah, his rite of passage into adulthood. I was a little jealous, which brother is not. I rejoiced when I grew a tad taller than him; and when I could beat him in the race from the market to the workshop.

We comforted our younger brothers and sisters together when our father died. He let me lead the Kiddush, saying it was fitting that Joseph’s firstborn did so. He was always doing and saying strange things, but at the moment it did not matter.

We went into business together, and it was brilliant… while it lasted. We went to the Jordan River to hear our cousin John. He was always the religious one. Don’t get me wrong, we were a devout family. Both of us were baptised at the same time. It was strange, I thought I saw and heard something, but afterwards was not sure. People in the crowd were convinced, and were pointing at us; although afterwards, I thought they were just gesticulating at him.

He went on into the desert; and said the business was mine now. None of us heard from him for days, but then we heard rumours that he was teaching the people and giving them hope. I liked that idea. People always need hope. Then whispers that he staying with the wrong kind of people: prostitutes, tax-collectors. Eventually, I heard he was being critical of our leaders and our traditions; gathering others around him, claiming to speak in God’s name.

I did not know what to do. I did what any brother would. I got together our siblings and our mum and went to find him. We could not get into house where he was. After waiting for many hours, one of his followers, Judas came out, and let us know that he had said any one who followed him was his brother, sister or mother.

I was angry – we had played, worked, argued, laughed and smiled together – and he seemed to be saying that all that counted for nothing.

I was angrier for Mum; but she seemed calm and peaceful.

He went to Jerusalem for Passover. Mum wanted to go, so I went too. It was my duty; someone had to act like they were the firstborn.

As he rode into the city that day, I almost believed he was the Messiah; although it is hard to believe that when at the same time you have images family races, meals and birthdays flashing through your mind.

Hosanna! to the Son of David. We were always proud that we were of David’s line.

He went mental in the Temple, and from that point on I decided to look after our Mum and have nothing more to do with him. I was asked by Mum to go the Passover celebration, but I would go in.

All of it happened in a blur. He was arrested and condemned. My brother! I was in the crowd, yelling for him.

I kept my distance from him whilst he was on the Cross. I wanted to go to be there, but could not. Only a handful of his followers were there. At least I watched. He gave our mum into the care of someone else.

Then he died. I was suddenly the eldest.

James and John took care of Mum, and told me to keep my head down. “The authorities might want to wipe out the family as well as his friends”, the said.

I stayed in a room by myself. Joses was in the next house.

I spent the day reading the Torah. I felt alone.

On Sunday, there whispers about the tomb

That is all I need, I thought.

It all happened too suddenly.

Suddenly, he was there – the Lord of glory; my brother Jesus.

He smiled

I smiled

He laughed

I laughed.

We patted each other on the back.

I looked into his eyes – and he read everything there is know about me and how I felt in my eyes,

Then he was gone

I thought I had better start acting like the firstborn, and with others I gathered people together; trying to make sense of my brother, the Messiah.

I even ended leading the Church in Jerusalem

With a brother like that, you never know what is going to happen.