Tag Archives: listen

Chapter 50: brothers who work at a distance from the oratory or are traveling

cropped-color-calgary-header-3

Brothers who cannot come to the oratory at the appointed hours – because of their distance labor – should say the Divine Office where they are, kneeling in fear of God.

Who do I pray with?

Part of my personal reflections as I read the Rule of St. Benedict has been on my place within the Northumbria Community. My noviciate process has been stalled for two years now and recently I have been revisiting my future of the journey with them. I called a stop to the noviciate process due to my difficulties with the dispersed nature of the community. Despite having local groups that meet to encourage living out the Rule of Life and to have fellowship with, I have never found a group local enough. As a parish minister I feel a strong connection with my geographical location, serving and praying for the people in the area I live and work. I feel I would benefit from a community who walk the Rule of Life in that location asking the question, ‘How then shall we live… here?’

I still find the Rule of Life for the Northumbria Community enriching and challenging and I find myself returning to it and wrestling with its questions. I still say the Daily Office regularly and have settled into a sustained rhythm embedded over five years. I have made annual retreats to the Mother House over the years and contribute a relational tithe to them each month. I still feel a deep connection with the Northumbria Community and value their friendship and prayers but is the season changing now?

Part of my reflections on my relationship with the dispersed community has been the question of prayer and how it connects me into the community. Each morning, lunchtime and evening when I sit down to pray the Daily Office I feel a connection with the community, mainly those praying at the Mother House in Northumberland. I think of them often, sitting in Nether Springs, preparing meals, cleaning rooms for guests, leading workshops, pausing to say those shared words that I too am saying several miles south in my parish. It is the rhythm of prayer that connects me most; connects me into the established relationship with specific people and, in a smaller way to unknown members of the community across the world.

Over time, however, I find that I think of them less as my mind turns to my more immediate community in the parish. I now consider those who sit with me in situ regularly praying the Daily Office with me. My prayer ‘home’ is no longer up in Northumberland but here in York.

I have moved.

This is significant when considering what rhythm you pray to. I am feeling less and less of a relational connection with the people in Nether Springs (the Mother House of Northumbria Community) not because I love them any less or that I don’t desire to be with them more but because my rhythm of life has had to change. The Rule still stands as root for me to return to but the Daily Office has become less of that connection than it did. I don’t pray at the same time as my fellow journeyers up in Nether Springs due to the different work days that we have. I no longer pray for the same people as I focus my prayers on the local area with the prayers of the people around me.

Where does this leave me in my relationship with the Northumbria Community?

Many would say it doesn’t matter where you are, you engage with the community when and where you like; that’s what it means to be a dispersed community.

You’re expecting too much. It is too idealistic.

Maybe that’s true but I still have a deep call to be part of an intentional community which is rooted in the monastic tradition and part of that call, for me, is about location.

Another question I have is about the alternatives. I have yet to see God leading me to start an intentional community where I am at this point in time. I will soon be moving on from current role and it would be foolish and impractical to start anything now. I have, however, sensed there is a group of people orbiting the idea of this form of community discipleship in York and there is the potential bubbling up. What that looks like, how it would work and what Sarah and my role in that is has yet to be discerned. As my mind thinks over this possibility I think less of the Northumbria Community and more about the people who seem to share a call to intentional community in York.

Having prayed for over a year now around this subject all I can say is that I feel called to be a part of a group of disciples who live and work close to one another, who live out a life of prayer, study, dialogue and worship with one another, who have a passion for reconciliation, healing and creativity. I want to explore this with people who live close to me who can share my life as I share theirs and we share the life of Christ with the world.

Reflection

Parish life lends itself to a community at prayer in and for a specific location. Each morning and each evening I pray for my geographical area, I lift their needs and questions to God on their behalf and I am privileged to share that task with a small group of others who sit with me and support me. When I am unable to meet with them I still pray, wherever I am or they are and I do not feel alone… Of course I am not alone in prayer as thousands (if not millions) of others are praying with me at the same time, they’re just not in that room with me physically and that is where my reflections return.

Where is my physical community at prayer? Where is the community who not only say prayers with me but live out the prayers with me, who know me, know my heart, challenge me, pray for me and speak God’s word into my life?

Father, you are with me and by your Spirit you pray through me. You have called me to this place with a particular vocation and ministry. Keep me faithful to your timing and rhythm. Lead me in the way of Christ and gather round me the Body of Christ that I may play my part in it.

Come, Lord Jesus.

Chapter 46: offences in other matters

cropped-color-calgary-header-3

If the cause of the sin is secret (hidden in the soul), the monk should confess to the abbot or one of the spiritual fathers.

Who can I tell?

When the Lord comes,
he will bring to light the things now hidden in darkness,
and will disclose the purposes of the heart.
Therefore in the light of Christ let us confess our sins.

This is a seasonal provision in Common Worship for an invitation to confession from the First Sunday of Advent until Christmas Eve. I’ve been saying this for four weeks as I’ve led services in different contexts. The wording is from 1 Corinthians 4:5 and is a great image of bringing everything into the light.

Darkness, after the initial shock, can be quite comforting. No one can see what you’re doing and so no one can judge your behaviour. You are alone with your thoughts and those probing eyes of others are gone; you can do whatever you like. You’re free. Darkness brings this sense of privacy where you feel in control, released from judgement.

Darkness is also scary, isolating and lonely. With no sense of sight your other senses are heightened and, those of us who are reliant on our eyes most of the time, struggle to interpret the sounds, smells and other sensations that we are now aware of.

I’ve been involved in many a party game where someone is blindfolded and asked to feel an object and guess what it is. Part of the thrill or anxiety that is created is the unknown, the unseen. What if the worst thing imaginable is placed into our hands? Not knowing what the object is means you cannot prepare yourself for the possible movement of the object or the danger that it might be. There’s a great wave of relief when you see, even if you don’t like it, what the object was. When it comes into the light there’s a fuller understanding of what it is you were dealing with.

St. Benedict has returned to discussing issues of mistakes, faults and offences in community life. We all make them, they all have an impact beyond ourselves and we should all be prepared to admit them and try and make amends. In this chapter St. Benedict reminds us again that there is no difference between what happens in the ‘sacred’ to what happens in the ‘mundane’; we are to behave in the kitchen, cellar, garden, bakery, refectory, etc. as we do in the chapel/oratory. If we make a mistake or offend God or neighbour then we should treat it as if we did it in a ‘sacred’ space such as a church building. We are to go and make a public admission in front of abbot and the community so that no one is left in the dark over such matters.

Like the previous chapter, we are encouraged to admit quickly before the issue becomes larger by deceit and covering over the fault. It is easy to try and keep mistakes private out of fear of being seen to have failed and stumbled but greater is the shame if you are found to be using the darkness to cover such mistakes. The darkness is easy to use as a tool to select what others see of you and to build the false image of yourself but this creates a kind of division within yourself of that which others know about and that which you’d rather hide from them out of fear you will be judged.

In our culture we demand that no one judges another but we do it all the time and judgement is a necessary part of growing and developing. Imagine education without anyone telling you when you get an answer right or wrong, the same is true of the development of character and behaviour. If you want to be a part of a society then you must act within the framework and worldview of that society, if you do not then you are not united in behaviour and outlook with those around you and the bonds are broken. Judgement helps us to connect with others and to learn how to live and behave with those around us.

The problem arises when mistakes and ‘failures’ are seen to be feared and resisted. This view leads to the inevitable hiding of faults and a desperate and futile attempt at being perfect in the eyes of others. Judgement, in this culture, becomes a devastating rejection of a person into the abyss of eternal damnation. The community portrayed within the Rule of St. Benedict, however, is one rooted and established on grace and a desire to be humbled (‘humiliated’ in the truest sense of the word.) With grace, mistakes and faults are to be expected and open to redemption by God who, when invited to, can cleanse us from all faults and make us perfect by his Spirit. Judgement, in this culture of grace, is seen as a diagnosis of a problem that is curable by the great Healer. The rejection of judgement is the resisting of full force of grace and healing within the Body of Christ.

In the issues of mistakes in the ‘mundane’ parts of communal life, St. Benedict is essentially saying in this chapter,

See above.

Although there is one difference in this chapter which has not been said in previous chapters,

If the cause of the sin is secret (hidden in the soul), the monk should confess to the abbot or one of the spiritual fathers. (my emphasis)

Throughout the Rule so far, the advice is to take confession to the abbot and he shall make judgement on the form and severity of correction. Here, however, there is the option of not going to the abbot but ‘one of the spiritual fathers’. When the fault is internal, i.e. not a tangible, which does not impact the community in a practical way, then the monk can go and admit it to another with authority granted to them by the abbot. This must be done, as with other sins, quickly before it becomes habitual or longer lasting.

This is characteristically practical of St. Benedict. I know that I have thoughts and temptations each day which pass, unseen by others, through my mind which effect my behaviour and attitude towards others. I can keep them private out of fear of being judged for thinking or feeling such things and no one would be any the wiser, their opinion of me would still be good and I wouldn’t upset or hurt them and thus cause them to reject me in some way. I justify the hiding of these mistakes by saying I don’t want to upset my brothers or sisters and cause them to act out of anger but it’s not the full truth.

In the Apprentice this year, one candidate made a mistake which cost the team dearly in the task. He was obviously ashamed of his failure and, instead of admitting it to the others, he ‘made a business decision’ and ‘for the morale of the team’ to not tell them: he lied. In the boardroom the truth came out and he continued to persuade the others, Lord Sugar and himself that it was solely for the morale of the team. I was surprised to hear, after he was ‘fired’, that others said this was a reasonable thing to do and was an established ‘technique’ in business. It was hiding in the darkness out of fear of the idol of himself he had made would crumble and he would be humbled.

Going to another and confessing the thoughts or inner sins stops us from building the idols of ourselves whilst, at the same time, protecting those who may not yet have the grace to forgive and pray for our healing from the mistake. The hearer of the confession may feel that the wisest thing to do in order to be healed is to go to others who may be affected by the inner mistake and admit it to them without involving others in the community. That other person may be the abbot and so it would be wise to time that admission for the danger is, the abbot still being human and able to fall themselves, might respond rashly out of anger or fear.
cropped-color-calgary-header-3

Sacred/Mundane

I had a good conversation with someone this week about the frustrations of church and they were keen to express their disappointment and anger at the irrelevance of church services to the majority of the population of this country. They had no problem with the Church, the people who make up the Body of Christ, but the worship services were a waste of time. I wonder whether the division between these two things is the problem here. What I mean is, if you don’t engage in the worship services of the Church then how do you engage with the other aspects of the Church’s life? You should have the same attitude when you go to a Sunday service (if your church meets on a Sunday) as you do when you meet together for social times because worship encompasses both activity/tasks and the devotion of time in the presence of God. God should be involved in all that we do, no matter where we are as individual disciples or with other Christians. We know this, so why is it that we say in one instance,

This particular group is my church.

and in another,

I don’t get that group of believers or how they express their faith (if indeed they have one)

The Church is the Church. It is, at it’s most basic level, a gathering of disciples of Jesus Christ. When we meet together we remind ourselves of the Body of Christ and we re-member Christ amongst us by his Holy Spirit. In this posture we humble ourselves before him and lay down our wills in favour of his and we worship, either by enacting his commands or proclaiming his greatness and majesty to position ourselves firmly beneath his will and command.

This should happen whenever we are with other followers of Jesus. Everything we say and do therefore should be worship in these two sense: reminding ourselves and each other of who we serve and to be humbled before him and also doing Christ’s work on earth/building his kingdom and not our own. The kitchen, cellar, garden, etc. then become places of worship because where ever we are we worship God.

If everywhere is sacred does this mean we no longer need specific places of worship? I would say that if we didn’t meet in one place we’d meet in another space and it would become sacred, therefore, we will always have specific sacred sites which we congregate in to intentionally praise and re-member Christ amongst us and receive from him. If we close our church buildings we’d need to find other buildings in which to meet for worship and if we moved we’d lose the connection with the two thousand year history and tradition of our faith and re-member with those ‘saints’ which have gone before.

Indeed, the whole of the worship service as passed down from generation to generation is a tool to connect with the saints throughout the ages to have relationship with the past, the present and the future. It is the mysterious work of God’s Spirit to bring us into the communion of Saints who will all stand, one day, in glory to sing God’s praises. Our worship services are, whether we feel it or not, a foretaste of this heavenly reality. We want to hold onto tradition, not because we are fearful of change, but because we want to honour our brothers and sisters before us and worship with them. It is a lesson we must heed in our time, to lay down our own preferences and choose to honour others before ourselves. This is painful and difficult thing to do because sometimes it feels like a one way street but we enter, in part, to Christ’s approach to us that when we were still sinners he came to meet us. He chose grace and became in the form of a servant and was obedient… to the point of death on the cross.

When we don’t appreciate the sacred in the mundane there is the danger that we will make the sacred, mundane. We stumble into our times of worship together and informality leads us to laziness and blindness. Samuel Beckett writes in his play ‘Waiting for Godot’,

But habit is a great deadener.(Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot (London: Faber and Faber, 2000) p.83)

We all find it easier to differentiate between ‘work’ and ‘life’; we talk of achieving the work/life balance but in the life of faith everything is work and everything is life. When you head into the office, the school or wherever you ‘work’ you do not leave your discipleship at the door. You’re going to that place with the mission of Christ ringing in your ear. The priority for disciples, over and above the job description, is to build God’s Kingdom here on earth, to make disciples, to be light in the world. In this mindset we approach worship as a duty that we feel forced to do in our ‘spare time’, there is then the pressure of making it beneficial and for us to feel something. When the service doesn’t live up to that expectation we reject it and complain and grumble. If we were to approach it with the knowledge that we should always be worshipping and encouraging one another as disciples then whenever we meet it is a joining in of what is going on in all of our hearts. Worship then is not the shop window of the community but the factory, the powerhouse at the centre. We return to this place of communal re-membering of Christ to be fed and to be sent out. Inviting people into the community is through the thresholds of the community and via the waters of baptism.

Reflection

This chapter is a bridge between two important points. We are moving from the discussion on the need for swift admission of faults and mistakes, firmly establishing an attitude towards judgement within the framework of grace and humility. We are moving to a discussion on the erasing of a sacred/mundane divide which protects us from the demands of discipleship. The establishing of a distinction between sacred and mundane is done for the same reason we find we want to maintain both light and darkness. In one we can do what we like and behave without judgement and shame whilst still being able to enter into the other controlling what others see and what they don’t.

Those who argue that darkness must exist in order to appreciate the light are trying to justify the maintaining of that small corner of our lives that is useful to feel comfortable and in control. The problem is, without the light reaching those parts we cannot appreciate the full force of grace which transforms and heals us to be the fully resurrected people of God. The Refiner’s fire must burn into every aspect of our lives and change us. This is a painful experience but until we go through it we cannot know the full brilliance of our God who we invite to lead us to holiness and peace.

Our communities must be rooted and established in grace. In this we intentionally seek to be humbled and then to see judgement in the right way as a means to be in the right position before our God who we worship in every aspect of our lives. This means to be actively seeking to be in right relationship with other Christians and trusting in the vehicle of grace: God’s Body, the Church.

If we are not channels of grace then we have no right to call ourselves church… The body of Christ the ultimate vehicle of grace. (John Barclay, a lecture on the wisdom of the cross in 1 Corinthians, Tuesday 4th June 2013, Diocese of York Clergy Conference)

Gracious and healing God, bring into light those things we long to keep hidden in the darkness. We invite your judgement onto us knowing that you are tender and loving towards those that fear you and you have come, in the person Jesus, to heal sinners like me. May our communities be places where mistakes and faults are dealt with quickly so we can experience more fully your grace and love for us.

Come, Lord Jesus.

Chapter 42: no talk after Compline

cropped-color-calgary-header-3

Monks should try to speak as little as possible.

Why silence?

There is an almost constant stream of chatter going through my mind most of the day; there are lists of things to do being calculated, reflections and processing events, creating ideas and writing exercises all being churned away inside my brain as I walk around, sit quietly and even when I pray. It sometimes feels like my brain is producing the Window’s hourglass or Apple’s spinning ball as I process the world around me.

When it comes to prayer, finding a silence in which to encounter and hear from God, is tricky (on some days nearer to impossible!) Before I begin the liturgy I try to quieten the inner chatter using a entering prayer like the Jesus prayer or repeating ‘Maranatha’ slowing my breathing down and settling into a slower rhythm. The chatter begins to slow (if I concentrate) and we begin the liturgy, familiar and comforting; it uses just enough brain power to focus me more and, at times, I fall into the silence.

Of course this doesn’t always happen and the chatter is so overwhelming that I’m lucky if I can even remember the liturgy. It is a common view that we live too frantic lives. I don’t want to add to the reams and reams of paper and the gigabytes of webspace dedicated to showing us all how busy we are and the need to slow down. I’ve said it to myself so often, I’ve heard people tell me, as if it were simple, I’ve preached it from the pulpit and I’ve written it in more than one article; why is it so difficult?

The inner chatter is comforting, I think; it is a form of company in moments of aloneness. We are naturally social animals and we crave companions and so when we are denied that fellowship we fill the emptiness with fictional voices or with our own creative thoughts. Even the dye-hard introverts amongst us fill the silence with dreams and thoughts because, the truth is, the silence is frightening. In the silence we must face our true self without any of correction or pretence; ironically the true self is the last thing we want to see.

If your life is centred on yourself, on your own desires and ambitions, then asserting those desires and ambitions is the way you try to be true to yourself. So self-assertion becomes the only way of self expression. If you simply assert your own desires, you may have the illusion of being true to yourself. But in fact all your efforts to make yourself more real and more yourself have the opposite effect: they create a more and more false self.This self assertion is false because it cuts you off from other people. (Abbot Christopher Jamison, ‘Finding Sanctuary: Monastic Steps for Everyday Life’ (London: Phoenix, 2007) p.85

The discipline set out in the Rule of St. Benedict should never be seen as an end in and of itself for that is a distortion of his intention. Discipline is used in order to steer the monk into a space where they can discover deep truths, hidden from others; it is this space of encounter with God which is the goal. Last week we discussed how cravings for satisfaction can drive us from real discoveries and here it is our inner chatter which is the distraction. Enforcing silence is to create an atmosphere where we are forced to face the silence, to fight through the dread and fear to discover the resurrecting new life beyond the deepest darkness and silence.

Ultimately the only way that I can be myself is to identified with Him in Whom is hidden the reason and fulfilment of my existence. Therefore there is only one problem on which all my existence, my peace and my happiness depend: to discover myself in discovering God. If I find Him I will find myself and if I find my true self I will find Him. (Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation’ (New York: New Directions, 1972) p.35-36)

The call to true silence is a dangerous journey and should not be rushed into. It is a treacherous path which requires, like all journeys, preparation, the right equipment and knowledge of the route. It doesn’t take much reading on contemplative prayer to know that this is a calling reserved for experienced and specific disciples. This doesn’t deny the rest of us an experience or a seeking after a form of silence but we tread that path with caution.
The rise of mindfulness classes, particularly in urban centres, concerns me. The basis of this, as far as my reading and experience shows, is based in focussing on self and creating a form of vacuum in which to exist. The danger with this, in spiritual terms, is that with no direction we can be seized by anything; demons, destructive thought, wayward emotions, call them what you like. In this way it is as Jesus describes it,

When a strong man, fully armed, guards his castle, his property is safe. But when one stronger than he attacks him and overpowers him, he takes away his armour in which he trusted and divides his plunder…
“When the unclean spirit has gone out of a person, it wanders through waterless regions looking for a resting place, but not finding any, it says, ‘I will return to my house from which I came.’ When it comes, it finds it swept and put in order. Then it goes and brings seven other spirits more evil than itself, and they enter and live there; and the last state of that person is worse than the first.” (Luke 11:21-26)

To return to Thomas Merton’s words, we all seem so desperate to find our true self but this only exists in the existence of God and so, if we want to gaze on our true self, we must gaze on God. The abyss that we discover if we silence the inner chatter should not remain empty for into the vacuum will flood all manner of thing and in the place where mindfulness takes you you’re defenceless against the slippery darkness that can easily overwhelm. God abhors a vacuum and we must, if we are to engage in this sort of prayer, to invite God to fill it; even if it is with ‘the cloud of unknowing’ (a classic on this subject).

This is where the reading of suitable material aids the community into an atmosphere of silence. It may seem contradictory to say, in one breath, be silent, and in the other listen to readings from ‘the Collations, the Lives of the Father or something else uplifting.’ For those of us who struggle with the silence and are not equipped to defend ourselves in the darkness of our own souls, filling the silence with directional material to guide us the treacherous path to the edge of pure silence to gaze on God is considerably helpful.

Reflection

True silence is hard to achieve for it is a form of death. In the centre of it we all discover the existence of God who grants, by knowing Him, knowing our true self, ‘in Whom is hidden the reason and fulfilment of my existence.’

Sometimes prayer, meditation and contemplation are “death” – a kind of descent into our own nothingness, a recognition of helplessness, frustration, infidelity, confusion, ignorance… Then as we determine to face the hard realities of our inner life, as we recognise once again that we need to pray hard and humbly for faith, he draws us out of darkness into light. (Thomas Merton, ‘Contemplative Prayer’ (London: Darton, Longman and Todd, 2005) p.40)

The path to such discovery is a dangerous journey and should not be entered into lightly or without the right spiritual equipment for the task. There are unfriendly foes to battle with, snares and stumbling blocks which can cause you immense damage and pain.

In the context of parish life this form silence is not to be completely ignored rather we should be practising it in order that we can control our inner chatter like we need to control our inner cravings. Discipline in prayer and contemplation leads us to discovery of who we are in God and is therefore, the path to the new life we proclaim.

Creating guided space to begin the process of entering into the silence is essential for nay Christina community. This should be, in my mind, begun with concentrated reading of ‘uplifting’ material: Scripture or spiritual classics such as the Collations or the Life of the Fathers. Each disciple who commits to exploring the inner life must be accompanied by an experienced traveller and these should be made available to each in the form of small groups leaders.

In this way we can begin to form our life together around prayer and study as we resource ourselves for mission and worship.

God of the silence, I invite you into the poverty and emptiness of my life to fill it with your presence by your Holy spirit. Fill the dust of my existence like you did in the very beginning. May I, my false self, decrease as you, my true identity, increase. I step into the silence fearful for it is your awesome presence I seek to gaze upon; that same presence which Moses desired and you blessed him by walking by Him.

Come, Lord Jesus.

Chapter 40: drink apportionment

cropped-color-calgary-header-3

”Everyone has his proper gift from God, one this, another thus” (1 Cor. 7:7)”

How do we welcome whilst teaching?

Last week we reflected on sharing and how, if we looked at our points of excess, be it food, money, whatever, then this seemingly impossible task of fairly distributing resources may become easier. This week, we read the same principle is to be taken with drink as it did with food and monks should consume in moderation. St. Benedict points out his awareness that in some religious orders, alcohol is forbidden but for his community (in Italy!) wine was a cultural drink; it’s like telling Russians they can’t drink vodka!

What we see here is not a blanket refusal for all things that are potentially harmful but a reliance on common sense. The Church, throughout history, has struggled with controlling its members’ destructive behaviours and have erred, at times, into overly strict control of all to help the few. We can think of the Puritans who saw some dangers in excessive frivolity, which on rare occasions led to sexual immorality; their response was to cut all frivolity and fun from everyone to protect against potential sexual immorality.

Discipline is difficult to police: one can be too heavy handed or not directive enough. Some people struggle with substance abuse, while others find certain situations difficult to control their anger. We can easily fall into the trap of thinking the way to help is to have a tight control on what is permitted and what is not. In order that some do not feel picked out the ‘ban’ becomes generalised and anti-productive for those who can remain disciplined in the specific situations. The church then becomes a place where there’s a lot of ‘you can’t’s and we spend more time policing the rules rather than worship and prayer.

In our current cultural climate, however, I see the opposite danger being played out. In response to a Victorian, over-bearing, clear cut, black/white mentality when it comes to moral righteousness; there is a lasez-faire approach to ethics and morality. In our desire to be ‘inclusive’ and ‘welcoming’ we reject any ‘barriers’ or demands put upon people who come through our door. We struggle to set behavioural rules out of fear we will be seen as judgemental or moralistic. We look at our fore-bearers and see a strictness and we want to set ourselves apart from them.

The problem with this approach is that we have missed out on a third way of managing temptation and behaviours. St. Benedict never shies away from enforcing expectations and demanding everything from the monks in his community but these ‘rules’ are focussed on principles and character rather than on practicalities. Leadership and spiritual guidance is less about dictating the pragmatic things we can and can’t do, policies and guidelines which must be followed to the letter and more about the general climate in which virtues are nourished.

If we take alcohol as an example. There are some who struggle to drink alcohol in moderation. The causes for this differ from one person to another and so it is hard to produce specific guidelines that all will find helpful all of the time. If, however, you see guidelines more about establishing a direction for transformation of character rather than prescribing detailed pragmatic actions then they can protect all people whilst enabling flexibility within it. Instead of saying, for example,

No one is to drink alcohol because it could, for some, lead to temptation to excessive drunkenness and violent behaviour.

We could write,

We want to encourage one another to be reliant on God and to be aware of His direction of us at each moment. Alcohol, when drunk excessively, hinders us from being obedient to God’s call. Therefore, alcohol must be drunk with care and consideration. If another is deemed to be drinking excessively, those in authority are to care for them by removing the temptation from them. It maybe appropriate, after the effects of the alcohol has worn off, for the leaders to discuss the reasons for their drunkenness to see if there is a way in which they can be encouraged to remain sober for the Lord.

The skill St. Benedict shows in his Rule is to have a clear endpoint in sight: the final judgement. Everyone in his community signs up to being transformed and changed, each day into the likeness of Christ. To be a part of the community is to commit to the hard work of discipleship which asks us to work out our salvation with fear and trembling. Drunkenness and excessive behaviour in any context is a distraction from prayer and character formation and therefore is enforced not by specifics but under the general encouragement to a life of discipleship.

In order to develop a distinctive culture of discipleship a community needs to be clear as to their priorities. These are not pragmatic step by step things; it is about the ultimate end goal. The Church has this set out in Jesus Christ. The vision for each congregation is the same: to seek God in our whole life, to intentionally invite the Holy Spirit to transform us from our old selves, into new creation, through obedience to prayer, study, dialogue and worship and to live as part of God’s distinctive Kingdom in the world. All pragmatic decisions and policies must encourage each disciple to participate in this work and that will require one thing for one member and another thing for the next but the direction is the same.

There are many who are taking down the Church’s specific demands placed on people’s behaviours to encourage them to become part of the Church or to at least see the Church as relevant and in line with the culture we live in but in doing so have thrown the metaphorical baby out with the bathwater. We have misunderstood the heart of the rules and guidelines. We have rejected the teaching wholesale and we have ignored Jesus who demands everything. Jesus asks those who would follow him to leave their livelihoods, families, their safety and security; in fact he asks us to die to ‘self’ in order to be his disciples. He does not ask this of everyone but for those who he calls to ministry. There is a difference between the expectation and attitude Jesus has to the crowd and the expectations he has on his disciples and he is clear on the distinction.

Are you a member of the crowd or a disciple?

A disciple is expected to work, to change, to learn to live obediently to the challenge of the life of Christ but the reward is great. The crowd only sees a glimpse of the Kingdom but remain enslaved to the world until they make their own commitment to discipleship.

As a theatre director I directed actors, not by telling them precisely where to stand and how to speak but rather by keeping my eyes fixed on the principles by which we agreed to work and the character the actor was trying to perform. There were some general things which were fixed and to move away from them, even slightly, would be a distraction. Within this framework the actors were more free to play and discover. It is a paradox that artists appreciate more than others; if you want to be more creative, put up more guidelines. A musician returns to the scales for this reason, the painter primes the canvas, the actor studies the character/play. Discipline and obedience are key to developing as an artist and the same is true of disciples.

Reflection

We can all agree that we need to create the right climate for discipleship to take place but there is a difference of approaches as to how to achieve it. For some it is about setting the right pragmatic actions. They work on each step and encourage people to achieve one after the other in an order. As each step of change is difficult to take people get caught up in the mechanics of those single step and our sights are reduced to a few manageable steps ahead. When difficultly strikes it is hard to discern what to do next and the choices as to which step to take in order to move forward becomes a complex and cloudy.

The alternative is to to set the momentum and the direction of the journey. You don’t need to know each step in advance but you know the trajectory. This means your head is up and some steps are made without even thinking about it. There is a momentum which drives people on. There will be times when you go off course but at different moments there will be a leader who raises everyone’s head to fix their eyes on the horizon not yet reached.

This frees the community of the Church from setting specific mundane requirements on its people and frees them to discern for themselves, within the framework of the community ethos, what they need to do in order to reach the goal. It is not about strict micromanagement nor is it the liberal, distanced observation of others; this is about dialogue and encouragement to journey the costly path of discipleship whose aim is to encounter God and to know His divine will for our lives.

Heavenly Father, whose will is perfect freedom. Your son challenged the Pharisees who lived at the law in action but were far from you in their heart. Your son also challenged those who were enslaved by their own desires who led them first in one direction and then in another. Your son, our way, our truth and our life, ha been set as the pioneer and perfecter of the faith and we commit our lives to following him, to being shaped by him.

Come, Lord Jesus

Chapter 38: the weekly reader

cropped-color-calgary-header-3

No whispering or noise is to be heard, only the sound of the reader.

Why silence?

It is a sign of God’s grace and goodness that in a week which began with a blessed retreat with close confidantes as means of recovering from mental illness but before I can fully say I’m back to fitness, He grants that I have a relatively straight forward passage from the Rule of St. Benedict. Whilst on retreat I was able to apply my mind to theological study and reading and have made much needed headway on my writing project (which has been on the back burner for some months now!)

This week’s chapter outlines St. Benedict’s vision for meal times: silent and prayerful. This flies in the face of our culture’s understanding of meal times. It is a current trend within the life of the Church to have food and fellowship (they always go together!) In our church, the youth work is centred around a shared meal where we chat and find out about each other. I’d feel pretty insulted if someone judged what we did at these times of eating as ‘idle chatter’ because the work of relationship is multi layered and complex with use of various means of communication; ‘chatter’ being just one of them.

Having said that, there is a need in the specific example of our youth group and in the general point of meal times for more awareness of listening. Where, in our culture, do we encourage one another to be silent with others?

On my retreat with close friends we spent several times in silence. They were not long but they were rich. I treasured the times when we fell into silence together. Of course it wasn’t pure silence for we were all clearly communicating with God in prayer but it was a wonderful moment to have sat next to people where words did not need to be expressed.

Some of the most beautiful moments I have spent with my wife have been silent (this is not to say that I get bored of the sound of her voice or of what she has to say!) The time that comes to mind is last summer in her hospital room when she was lying staring into space and I sat looking at her. She was very ill and we’d run out of words to express frustration, anger at God, sadness of the situation and ultimately, a way to explain what the future held. Silence was the most appropriate sound and we sang it together beautifully.

As part of my recovery programme, I have embarked, with a counsellor, on Mindfulness Based Cognitive Therapy. I have looked at mindfulness before but in the context of contemplative prayer exercises. For me, mindfulness is a form of contemplation; contemplation on the present moment and where it is being punctuated by God’s grace and mercy. I’m reminded of Thomas Merton’s description of contemplative prayer,

Contemplative prayer is, in a way, simply the preference for the desert, for emptiness, for poverty… Contemplation is essentially a listening in silence, an expectancy. (Thomas Merton, Contemplative Prayer (London: Darton, Longman and Todd, 2005)p. 111-112)

One of the exercises for this week is to be intentionally conscious of the process of eating; to eat a meal and be aware of the texture of the food, the sensation of the need to swallow and the echoes of taste on the tongue. It is in this exercise that I am aware of the power and need for silence at meal times.

We must be careful, however, to remove the Rule of St. Benedict from its context. If we are to truly reflect on how the Rule may be utilised in a current, un-cloistered culture then we must ask some important questions. For this particular part of the Rule it would foolish to blindly take the guidance without asking whether there is any worthy benefit of encouraging conversation at meal times.

To go back to the specific example of our youth group: it may be an interesting experiment to try one meal time in silence but the reason we gather round the table is to engage in relationship. We remove all mobile devices and encourage them to connect with others over the very tangible and present reality of food. We have established, after much reflection, prayer and consultation that it is important for our young people (some more than others) to have a place, each week, to sit and have a family meal where they are encouraged to listen and to be heard with no distractions and no where to rush off to. ‘Idle chatter’ at the table is counter cultural for some of them where silence fills their meal times but a silence poor in listening due to the distraction of technology and relationships being fostered remotely.

cropped-color-calgary-header-3

The Reader

A brief note on the requirement of quality in public reading:

Coming from an arts background I have often been asked by colleagues and church readers for practical advice and training in how to read effectively. We’ve all been in services or groups where someone goes to read (Scripture particularly) and puts on this strange voice which makes the reading sound as dull as dishwater! They have no passion for what they are reading and/or they have no sense of what the words are saying. The opposite is often just as bad; someone, wanting to make it sound interesting, puts such emphasis on the reading that it becomes comic and (to use a theatrical term) ‘hammy’.

There is a comfortable middle way which is achieved by knowing what it is you’re reading; knowing the specific words and what they mean, knowing the context it was written and the context into which you are reading, to know the genre and general point of the piece. This takes preparation and then certain skills and experience to translate all that knowledge into your voice to communicate beyond words the meaning of the words.

With these skills, developed through experience and training, words are open to having life breathed into them and are then able to change people’s lives. It is these trained or experienced people, who have gone thorough a process of reflecting on their practice, who should be encouraged to stand up in public and read for it is in their ‘ministry’ that people will be invited to hear and respond to what is being read for the building up of their souls.

Reflection

Part of my theological study whilst on retreat was to bring together my years of thinking around the need for a new form ecclesiology for the Church of England; one that would encourage and grow discipleship amongst our people. Part of the solution, I believe, can be found in the discoveries of the New Monastic movement. It was Alan Roxburgh who wrote,

Discipleship emerges out of prayer, study, dialogue and worship by a community learning to ask the questions of obedience, as they are engaged directly in mission. (Alan Roxburgh, Missionary Congregation, Leadership and Liminality (Harrisburg: Trinity Press, 1997) p.66)

I love that vision for the church: to be a place of ‘prayer, study, dialogue and worship’. Often the church, I find, devalues study; individuals palm their responsibility off to academics and the local congregation is starved of intellectual rigour as it gets trapped in the academy. I’m reminded of Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s observations of the monastic movement before the Reformation,

Monasticism was represented as an individual achievement which the mass of the laity could not be expected to emulate. By thus limiting the application of the commandments of Jesus to a restricted group of specialists, the Church evolved the fatal conception of the double standard – a maximum and a minimum standard of Christian obedience. (Dietrich Bonhoeffer, The Cost of Discipleship (New York: Touchstone, 1995) p.47)

Although Bonhoeffer is discussing the complete task of discipleship I see a distinct lack of study within modern congregations. Not only do they resist participating in it but they belittle its worth to justify their lack of desire for it. There is a common thought that you don’t need to study to grow in discipleship, there is no need to wrestle with difficult questions or, if you do need to, it is to be done by understanding how you feel rather than learning how to think. This develops into teaching which is authorised solely by emotional feeling rather than intellectual truths.

There needs to be a place where a community learns to sit in silence and listen to teaching and to listen with their hearts as well as their ears; to receive teaching and the wisdom of the Church, to be challenged to grow and to be inspired to study the words and works of God. This study needs to be shaped and directed so that we do not fall into heresy and worldly wisdom.

Yes, there is a place for discussion and dialogue but where are the times of silent study, together, as a community?

Teacher, you taught us that there is no other teacher but you and so we commit to sitting at your feet and receiving bread from heaven, every word that comes from your mouth. We want to learn how to be expectant to hear from you, to answer your invitation to enter the desert, to be emptied, to become poor in order to meet with you, to be filled by your Spirit and to be rich in knowledge and love of you.

Come, Lord Jesus.

Chapter 36: sick brothers

cropped-color-calgary-header-3

Before others and above all, special care must be taken of the ill so they may be looked after, as Christ.

What is an infirmarian to do with my sickness?

It was ironic that, on the week I was reflecting on how a community cares for the sick, I got sick. My sickness was not a commonly accepted sickness and many people question whether we should classify what I am still suffering with as a ‘sickness’ but for me there were physical symptoms which hindered me from functioning as well as I can and therefore it is a sickness like any other. My sickness was stress related and was a mental sickness: depression.

I am prone to this sickness like some are to colds and flus, to migraines and back problems. I am aware that I can be ‘crippled’ by this sickness if not kept in check. The symptoms for me (as I am aware people suffer with this in different ways) are an overwhelming sense of apathy, weariness, chest pains, inability to sleep, stomach cramps and unexpected waves of sadness and weeping. I am often loathed to name this sickness ‘depression’ because of the various versions of it and reasons for it: some are biological and hormonal others are circumstantial and based on the interaction between personality and environment/culture. Mine is not majorly biological but rather the way I function doesn’t, pre heavenly state of being, lend itself to easily coping with certain situations. Trying to manage these symptoms and counter them is difficult and is made more difficult when trying to function normally.

I am not one for hiding problems but this illness has a stigma particularly if you are a leader and teacher. This illness is deemed as a weakness and a failure in greater and lesser degrees. People judge you as the cause of the sickness and when you fail to function like normal you are blamed for not being able to control yourself and your body. Outside of the sickness I can see how this response comes about and there is a certain regime one should develop to live with mental health sickness. When you are overwhelmed by the darkness and despair it is so easy to fall into blaming yourself for your relapse but that makes things worse.

The problem I have found with this current bout of sickness is how it is, for me, externally triggered but that doesn’t mean that the trigger is the sole blame for it. It is the mixture with many other factors including my personal state of mind and, yes, body. If I am tired (like everyone gets sometimes) then I’m more vulnerable. Here again the sickness is like the common cold for me: if I am low on energy to fight the virus then I will knocked by it so, in order to not catch colds, I need to keep my energy up. Also, like the common cold, there is an external trigger, someone gives you a cold, but the solution to that is to not be around anyone. This is stupid and unrealistic so there’s always a danger of contracting it but I need to look after myself.

Despite it being a sickness there is not a simple cure for it (aside from medication which I have issues with, personally). Each person and each triggered relapse requires different ‘cures’ or strategies. I find preventative measures much more helpful than reactionary diagnosis and aid. I’d rather find better ways to protect myself from falling ill rather than to keep falling ill and having to wait for things to ease. It is easier, in my mind, to learn how to manage the external triggers rather than to be blind to them and be surprised every time to begin to suffer.

The complication for me comes when my ministry requires me to live so close to so many potential triggers. My personality/spirituality/theology are based largely on being vulnerable, committing to deep relationship with others and to engaging in a very real battle between darkness and light. This means that I find myself placed in situations which I am called to stand with people in brokenness, burden and the darknesses of this world. For someone who is easily tempted to despair this is not a great place to be for long periods of time but I do not feel it is God’s will for me to avoid such situations; in fact, I am witness to the powerful way in which God is redeeming this approach to life and discipleship in powerful ways for people. I’m not just talking about a basic understanding for people in a situation but actually of taking off the other their burden and sharing the weight, feeling the pain of loss and the void of hopelessness. I do that with the full knowledge and faith in Christ the Light of the world.

Being in these situations I know my own complete dependance on God to sustain me and to uphold me. I genuinely cry out for both myself and the person who’s burden I am sharing. I know that, if I don’t turn to God, I will fall and I will suffer. This does mean, however, that when I suffer with despair it is so easy for me to think,

I clearly was not with God nor dependant on him.

This makes me feel as though I have failed and beat myself further into a miry pit.

Having people around me concerned for my wellbeing is nice, to a point, but how am I to be taken care of? What is an infirmarian to do with my sickness?

This is a question I am still wrestling with and it is made more acute when I look at the Church of England and the structures in place for its leaders (lay and ordained). What support and healing is available and realistic? Who is the Diocesan Infirmarian and how might healing work within the pressures of full-time ministry?

Without dismissing anyone who is ‘weak’ enough to suffer from this inability to cope with the pressures of ministry and who can’t divorce their own lives from others to protect themselves from deep, gut-wrenching compassion what is the Church of England to do? Is there a way that people like me can be surrounded and supported, like Moses was with Hur and Aaron (Exodus 17), to be used by God in this ministry of vulnerability and compassion?

Most ministers I know either suffer in silence or develop divorcing techniques from the cause of the problem. Neither really changes the situation; both are avoiding the deeper issues. If you just ‘cope’ and accept reality as unchangeable (or at best ‘long term and complicated’) then you lose any hope of your situation changing; you’re trapped and must change to deal with it or succumb to a kind of death. If you develop divorcing techniques such as, refusing to enter fully into the emotion of conflict and/or other’s painful experience, distraction from reflecting too much on complex landscape of the mess of the world or just repeating over and over, ‘it’s all fine really’ then you ignore the problem and it is only a matter of time before you can ignore it no more.

So what are my conclusions? What are the answers to my questions? I’m afraid I don’t know entirely but here is my best stab in the dark (and it really feels dark at times)…

The isolation model of most parish ministers is unhealthy for the kind of work that we are called to engage with. I would be surprised if many parish priests would not admit to feeling lonely at some point. Fortunately many full-time ministers (lay and ordain) gather round them teams of people but, because of the responsibility and the oversight role they hold it is difficult to be open and honest at certain times. There might be more fruit in sharing the full responsibility and pressures of leadership in peer groups, with the overall care of the team of peers being placed with the abbot (bishop) and deans together.

When one of the ministers falls sick then the others come around and fulfil the work. An infirmarian is called in and the sick minister is taken to a place to heal knowing that the work continues in the way that it was started.

Unfortunately, due to the centralisation of power that tends to be executed in the Church of England the powers to act and support are so far removed from the parish that it can feel like you are neglected. It takes so long to get hold of the busy bishop or arch-deacon.

I am aware that in some cases this works well but the system is a strained model which needs looking at.

Reflection

As I still struggle with my illness, without an effective infirmarian or ‘cure’, I am acutely aware of how my approach to ministry and how God has shaped and continues to use me doesn’t work within the Church of England generally. I am aware that my theology and particular call is not the liberal, at times cynical and altogether ‘pragmatic’ approach of the majority of the Church of England and that what I desire is an intentional community of discipleship who share life together: prayer together, study together and mission together. To put it simply I am monastic and the Church of England is not.

There is something, I feel, to be had if we were to ask the question of the larger system and institution of the Church of England. That question is this:

What if every parish church was either a) a monastery with the powers devolved to enable it to function or b)the parish is seen as one equal but distinct part of a wider monastic community of a deanery in prayer, study and mission together?

As I struggle to see a way out of the forest of my current plethora of external triggers to my sickness, I am forced to reflect on the role of a curacy. This is a much bigger topic than can be dealt with here but I want to voice a hunch that if we see the role of college training as a powerhouse of discipleship and preparation why is there a big disconnect between it and parish training? Is there any scope in developing a training programme which continues on that process of a placing curates (and maybe all full time ministers) into a community that live together, praying, studying and engaging in mission? As we welcome new people in other employment we develop and grow that community which is fed from the local centre of monastic rhythm.

Lots of thoughts on that: anyone willing to talk to me and dream with me on that?

Loving Father, you know my prayers, the silent sighs and groans tune in with your Spirit who intercedes for us, “Abba Father”. That is a prayer not just as a cry from a nightmare to be embraced and brought close to you but also as a statement of refuge and strength.

Come, Lord Jesus

Chapter 32: property and utensils

cropped-color-calgary-header-3

No one shall treat monastic property carelessly or in a slipshod manner.

How do we care for creation?

In the previous chapter the cellarer is instructed to

…think of all the monastery’s property as if they were sacred chalices.

It is with this still ringing in our ear that we turn to consider all the monastery’s care for the material objects of life. Esther de Waal also comments,

At the end of chapter 4, which looked at the tools of good works, we were told that when we have used them without ceasing, day and night, and handled them faithfully, we hand them over and we receive our reward. Now we see how the ordinary tools of daily life are to be handled in the same way. (Esther de Waal, A Life Giving Way: a commentary on the rule of St Benedict (London: Continuum, 1995) p. 108)

What does a vow of poverty truly look like in a wealthy nation? Is our understanding of poverty relative to neighbours? I would want to suggest that a vow of poverty is to be understood as a vow of simplicity (this idea will be developed next week as we look at personal property amongst the monks.) For now it is worth reflecting on our attitude to property, to the material things of our own lives.

It has been said that we live in a ‘throw away society’; if something isn’t ‘perfect’ or working to our standards we discard it (usually to landfill!) We extend this mentality to our relationships as we increasingly see one another as purely material beings more and more akin to the objects we own and possess. This is, for me, another symptom of the sickness of where we find ourselves at this time. This is why, I suggest, we are happy with the rise of divorce and separation, the increased need for adoption and fostering, the continual need of prostitution, the medias use of the human form to sell products and the discussions over Assisted Dying Bill. As we live out the philosophy of individualism and relativism we see this objectifying of humanity; others are possessions to be treated in the same way as we treat a family heirloom or an electronic device.

The solution to this problem is not to just try and categorise what to objectify and what not to, for there is a chance we begin to divide up who should be treated as holy and who shouldn’t be but to sanctify all of creation. All things are to be treated with respect and care.

Before we run off in a certain direction and begin to fall into the error of pantheism, let me put up some guidance as to the practicalities. I am not suggesting that we worship other human beings or the material things of this world; we worship only the creator and not the creation. To name something as ‘holy’ is to draw it out from the rest of the world. When you handle something that is holy you understand that God cares for this and was part of its creation and it is a gift for you to enjoy. Like all of God’s gifts they are not to be possessed by you but by God who shares with you (again, more of this next week!)

It is the basic understanding that all creation, whether re-formed by humanity or organically grown in nature, is a gift from God to be used by us that leads us to treat all things as someone else’s property: God’s. If you go to someone’s house and you are a guest and you happen to break a mug there should be a pang of guilt or sadness for what you have broken is a possession of someone else. It is the concern of breaking something that is not yours that helps us to care for those objects. The same should be true in creation. The fear should not cripple us to not touch anything out of concern that we may break it but is there purely to guard us against the ‘slipshod’ manner of thinking everything is replaceable; this starts with objects and should extend to relationships… no relationship is replaceable!

cropped-color-calgary-header-3

Possession

I am aware that this chapter and the next one may have a lot of overlap in terms of reflection but I want to add to this reflection on why we should handle objects with care something about ‘possession’.

To have possession of something is to be master of it; this is the same of objects and people. This is where the topic of spiritual possession enters our life. Few of us would think of ourselves as slaves and most of us would resist being told that we submit to another out of fear of losing our freedom. Slavery is, despite the Abolition Bill being past centuries ago, alive and kicking and we’re made aware of this in situations of prostitution, immigration violations, underpaid workforce, etc. There is another slavery that we’d rather not talk about because most of us are victims of it: the slavery to an ideology/philosophy. Commercialisation has made us slaves to the market and to materialism which erodes our relationships and hinders us from flourishing. I have, in the past, referred to this as an addiction and that is the power of our slave drivers.

In the Christian tradition there is a paradox which leads us to true freedom; in order to be free we must become slaves of Christ (1 Corinthians 7:22). We are to be possessed by Christ; he is the one who directs us and holds us. This should be a spiritual possession of his character like we think of a demon possessing a human being.

I was asked this week about demon possession, whether I believed it was a real and distinct thing from mental health issues. My answer is a clear, ‘yes’. I do not agree that all demon possessions in the gospel account are to be thought of as ‘mental health issues’. Jesus clearly talks of demons and personifies them. Jesus commands us to go and ‘cast out demons’ (e.g. Mark 16:17) and that is separate from healing. With that in mind I understand the complications of discerning which is which. Maybe we could begin talking about possession in a broader sense to help us connect with these passages in the gospels. What might it look like to stand and fight against the possession of person who has an addiction which controls them (and that includes addiction to buying certain products or of living a certain lifestyle)? It might mean that we bring Ephesians 6:10-12 to mind,

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power. Put on the whole armour of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.

What I’m suggesting is that St. Benedict is able to see sacred and mundane as synonymous due to his acceptance that there is a spiritual aspect to our reality and that the way to flourish in one realm is to flourish in the other. We’d do well to begin to encourage our communities to understand this and to pray for our true freedom by obeying the call of Christ to make us slaves of Him who cares and heals us.

Reflection

As a parish minister I am increasingly aware of the people of the congregation to whom I am called to serve. I am aware that they are not ‘mine’ but God’s and he has entrusted me (along with my bishop and fellow ministers) to care for them and that ‘when we have… handled them faithfully, we hand them over and we receive our reward.’ This sense is increasingly true of all people I meet and come in contact with; the members of the community in which I work, the people I interact with online. This is also true of the objects that I use; the keyboard sat in front of me, the pencil currently sat in a book I’m reading, that book, all of it to be handled as if I were to hand it back to someone who’s possession it is.

Our task, as Christians, is surely to also ensure that God takes rightful possession of all creation. That our battle to ‘gain ground’ is to claim things and people back for God and doing so is, in part about making them slaves but to know that if they were not his they’d be someone else’s and the slavery of God is true freedom.

Heavenly Father, come and set us free in the safety of your embrace. We submit to you and accept your guidance to lead us to life of eternity

Come, Lord Jesus

Chapter 28: those who do not change their ways despite much correction

cropped-color-calgary-header-3

…if all this is to no avail, the abbot must wield the surgeon’s knife.

How do we reconcile?

It has not been easy to travel the last six weeks with the reflections on discipline, conflict and division. To have your prayer life shaped by the reading and meditating on such concerns, even hypothetically, causes a great burden to fall. I can’t wait until my prayers are shaped by utensils and hospitality but for now we must continue.

This week it is the heaviest of all the chapters on punishment. I will re-iterate a correction of the common understanding of excommunication for those of my readers who may have forgotten. Excommunication is not the total dismissing of a person from a community (well at least not in monastic life). Excommunication is aimed at being temporary and in this state the abbot still has contact and authority over the ‘wayward brother’; there is still hope of healing and a full re-instating. What is being discussed in this chapter, however, is the ‘surgeon’s knife’ (in another translation it is read as ‘amputation’).

I preached on Sunday about reconciliation, a theme the Lord continues to bring me to reflect on. I said in that sermon that I consider true reconciliation, the uniting of two parties with conflicting views and beliefs, to be humanely impossible. There is no argument or rationality that has ever changed someone’s deeply held convictions, those things that shape our identity. This is a matter of a spiritual shift; the work of reconciliation is a deep transformation down in the secret of all parties’ hearts. This takes time, trust and a transcendent commitment to the work of peace beyond rational thought and understanding.

There is obviously a human aspect to this work; the choice is left solely on the part of both conflicting parties to participate. This is understandable as all relationships are based on a free choice to be ‘bonded’ to another. If there was no freedom of choice then the relationship would not be genuine. Love requires freedom to exist. To be ‘re-bonded’ (which is what reconciliation literally means) requires that same freedom. Reconciliation cannot be forced upon anyone.

If we consider this in the context of peace talks between any warring parties at the moment (Israel/Palestine, ISIS/Christians, Russia/Ukraine) we can begin to see how purely rational, intellectual peace negotiations continual fail. Legislation which forces ‘peace’ is a fake peace and never a true reconciliation. What is required to encourage real reconciliation is a spiritual change on both sides; a commitment to attempt to freely choose to love. For humans who struggle to trust in the unseeable future, the miraculous changes in our spiritual core or the change of the lens through which we see the world, this reconciliation is impossible. We cannot imagine how we could ever trust someone who has hurt us so severely and so we resist. We begin the stalemate conversations of

They move first.

No They move first.

It seems strange, at first, to read in this chapter that it is after advice, the use of Scripture, excommunication and even the extreme: flogging that St. Benedict suggests

If even this has no effect, let him try greater things – his prayers and those of the other brothers – so that the Lord may cure the sick brother, for he can do all things.

There is a great realism here in how St. Benedict sees correction taking place. He knows, like us, that we will try all human avenues first (praying that they will work, of course) but in the end we must stop and invite God in to work in the place where only God can work. There will be times when the ‘sickness’ can be cured simply and we are encouraged to participate in that healing work through action. Then there is the time when all possibilities have been explored and you pass the patient onto the expert.

cropped-color-calgary-header-3

Anointing with oil

All of this makes me think about the role of oil in liturgical settings.

(bear with me)

The use of oil is a contentious issue and one that not many people think much about. There are specific occasions when oil is required: baptism, confirmation, ordination, healing and the Last Rites. The biblical understanding of anointing with oil is not clear. It is mentioned 20 times in the whole canon and there is a distinction between ordinary oil and ‘anointing oil’. This anointing oil must be kept holy and separate,

”It shall not be used in any ordinary anointing of the body, and you shall make no other like it in composition; it is holy, and it shall be holy to you. Whoever compounds any like it or whoever puts any of it on an unqualified person shall be cut off from the people.” (Exodus 30:32-33)

There are strict rules in the Law of Moses as to the use of this oil but in the New Testament there is very little mention or use of oil. The disciples use oil on the sick (Mark 6:13) and James, in his letter, advises its use on the sick too (James 5:14). God is said to use oil on Jesus in the letter to the Hebrews,

“Your throne, O God, is forever and ever,
and the righteous sceptre is the sceptre of your kingdom.
You have loved righteousness and hated wickedness;
therefore God, your God, has anointed you
with the oil of gladness beyond your companions.” (Hebrews 1:8-9)

My understanding, having read both Scripture and Church History is that anointing oil is to be used on people who are to be set apart; that is why we do it at baptism, confirmation and ordination. The use of oil in the ministry of healing and preparation for death is to set the sick person under the complete care of God. The use of oil in healing ministry is to be done cautiously due to an overuse and, therefore, belittling of its symbolic significance.

James, in his letter, is clear that prayer for the sick is what will save them but he does encourage anointing. So which is it?

I would want to say that the use of anointing oil is symbolic of the complete handing over of a patient to the mercy of God. This maintains an honouring of medical professions and the human intervention on diseases. We can pray whilst attempting human medical support and God will honour that but there comes a time in illness when doctors cannot do anymore. This is, of course, a particularly sensitive issue at the moment and I will not repeat my view on the Assisted Dying Bill. It is at this time of the end of medical support that anointing is to be done. This could be done when the patient decides to no longer receive medication or at the point the doctors no longer offer any help.

Anointing becomes the physical ritual that marks the end of looking to humans for help and the naming of our full trust in God to act in this situation. This is not to say that we do not trust God when we seek human support, God uses humans in his work, but there comes a time when God must work the impossible; this, in the case of illness, is either to heal miraculously or to guide a person into the rest of death. I still believe that only God can do that leading and if we humans attempt to take that control we overstep ourselves and it is called murder/suicide.

if we look at St. Benedict’s thoughts on discipline then this final removal of a brother from the monastery is a death of one kind. This should be the absolute last resort and must be done with the greatest revelation of the wisdom of God. It should not be done lightly or without the handing over of the situation totally to God. The burden of responsibility placed upon the abbot cannot be overstated and the pastoral sensitivity in these cases is paramount.

If we take the analogy of choice in death a little further here, then I would suggest that it is not the choice of the brother or the abbot to break this bond between them but the choice of God and there must be that time of waiting for God to act in the situation. This time cannot be rushed and a great deal of listening must be done. A service where the brother is anointed would be an appropriate symbolic act and we wait, in the midst of that suffering, for the hope of God to be revealed.

Reflection

In all moments of reconciliation there needs to be a deliberate stepping into the mysterious, miraculous hope of God. Without this submission to transcendence real reconciliation, in my mind, cannot be achieved. It is a step of faith into the unknown which, from our side, is always into darkness. Hope and light will be found if two things are present; God’s mercy and care as well as the choice of the conflicting party. The mercy of God is trustworthy and true and can be relied upon. The free choice to participate from our opposition is more tricky. More often than not it requires us to submit anyway as a sign of our desire to be in relationship with them. This is a tough task and we resist it more often than not.

I want to pray for the big conflicts currently being played out in the world today. I pray for both Israelis and Palestinians that they would cease the cycle of violence. I pray for ISIS and the Christians fleeing Mosul that they would succumb to the peace and love of God. I pray for Russia and Ukraine that they would know the mercy and care of God and enter into the beautiful dance of community and peace.

Come, Lord Jesus

Reconciliation Is Not Sitting On The Fence

I rarely write a script for my sermons but due to the contentious issues raised during this one I felt I needed to. Many people have asked to see a copy and so I publish it here in full.

The reading for the day was Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43
(It also is inspired by the epistle as well: Romans 8:12-25)


This week has seen several momentous debates take place. It started with the Church of England’s General Synod discussing the issue of allowing women to become bishops and finished with the House of Lord’s debating the controversial ‘Assisted Dying Bill’. It has been a week of heated opinions and difficult conflict. To add to these there’s also been renewed conversation around the Israel/Palestine conflict to manoeuvre. All in all it could have left many of us feeling overwhelmed and confused.

Which side do I stand on?

How do I know what is right and wrong?

Who can I trust?

I wouldn’t blame anyone for just keeping your head down and not engaging because it’s tiring, isn’t it?

PrintWhen I was at school we often staged debates on moral and ethical issues. These debates were put on to help us to develop our persuasive writing technique and for this reason I was always quite good. You see, to succeed in a debate you must defeat your opponent’s argument and not, necessarily, with facts. Most of the time they were won by playing with language. If you can bring into question the use of a word you can subtle destabilise any argument.

The truth is language is complicated and the english language is so steeped in history that it is one of the hardest to fully grasp and therefore easiest to manipulate. The meaning of words have been adapted so many times through the centuries that the original meaning doesn’t usually match its common usage. Debates end up being caught in details over language (or semantics). The game in debates is to attack weakness of understanding of words until you judge the right time to play the ‘simplify’ card. A debater will suddenly grab the confused and tired mood of the crowd and state the thought now running through most listeners heads:

“We can spend all day discussing semantics but at the end of the day this is all about people and all people need is…compassion. Compassion is not allowing suffering, therefore, assisted dying is the right thing to do”

No one will have the energy to argue the definition of compassion and it sounds plausible enough and, let’s be honest, we don’t have time to debate this anymore… To no one’s surprise, therefore, these staged debates always ended in a stalemate.

To be honest many of us don’t care as much about somethings as other people and so debates are often won by the most energetic arguers. To persuade others is more of a marathon of campaigning, slowly wearing opponents out. As victims of these campaigns it’s easy to tire and to give in rather than try and stand and engage.

Take the issue over Israel and Palestine for a moment:

israel-palestine-gaza-390x285Who has the right to the land of Gaza and the West Bank? We could start by going into all the history and legalities over this issue. The use of words such as ownership can then be brought into question. Historical facts could then be muddied by interpretation of events and phrasings and then there’s the insurmountable obstacle of personal stories and the tangled web of historical violence from both sides.

Who started it? What were the real motives behind each attack? Who are the secret players behind the scenes, the hidden investors? We could easily end up just throwing your hands in the air and saying,

“I don’t know.”

It’s in this tired, apathetic position that you are a prime target for lobbyists with an agenda to come alongside you and gently and nicely persuade you to just subtly ‘understand’ their point of view. They say,

“I know, it’s complicated, right. All you need to know is… Israel are seeking complete control of their ‘Promised Land’”

or

“You just need to realise that… there was never a state of Palestine in the first place.”

The work of reconciliation, of bringing people into true understanding and real peace, is hard. In fact, I’d go as far as to say, it is humanly impossible.

In those school room debates the problem was that the point of the exercise was not to discover the truth but to win an argument at any cost. Success was judged not by the right outcome being found but a majority of people agreeing with you at the end. You didn’t have to be right; you just needed to be popular. I was always good at standing up, observing the room, and re-phrasing the emotions; twisting them and manoeuvring them to sound very similar to my motion and, therefore, encourage them to feel like I was speaking for them; I was a born politician. This, I soon realised, was a very useful tool in life. I could get what I wanted!

I discovered, however, that getting what I want isn’t always the best thing. I could manipulate anything except the truth. I didn’t know what was good for me, I still don’t. I don’t always know what is right. I had intelligence but not wisdom. The poverty of wisdom was always my (and I suspect all of our) undoing and I soon realised that building my life on intelligent manipulation of facts was like building a house on sand and it soon began to crumble and harm me. I had made decisions based on what I wanted. I had made my bed and now I slept in it. It was then, I was convicted of my lack of wisdom and found my need for God, the source of real wisdom.

The problem is I still have to wrestle with how much I argue about anything, particularly issues of faith, knowing that I have the ability and the sinful desire to ‘win’ at any cost. I am acutely aware of my own personal need for wisdom over and above intelligence and rhetoric.

Whilst on holiday I was enticed into a debate with a fellow traveller on the coach tour. The issues being debated were wide and various; the existence of God, matters of ethics, political discourse. It was tiring. I landed a few fine tuned points which won ground but ultimately it was a thoroughly unsatisfying encounter. Why? Because in the end both parties, him and me, were unwilling to listen. We didn’t seek wisdom, we sought success.

295_Conflict_4Winning arguments is easy if you can just wear down your opponent and the easiest way to do that is keep moving the goal posts; re-define the terms of the argument until it gets too complicated and they get confused and worn out. You don’t need truth to do this; all you need is stamina and intelligence.

It is easy to look at the world with all the complicated issues brought out by relationships and be overwhelmed and confused. The instinctive position at this point is to succumb to the ‘live and let live’ view or the “there is no ‘right’ answer”. This is problematic when it comes to creating laws, governance and guidance as to how we live together. This approach only ends with lots of people doing what they like trying not to hurt others which ultimately won’t happen as we need to interact with each other; our personal desires will always conflict with someone else’s. The only way we can all be happy and not upset others is by not living together.

So how then do we live together?

Wisdom.

And how do we gain wisdom?

I want to suggest it’s ‘time’ and despite what many in our culture and society believe, we know we have time. God is a god of eternity. He is timeless, far above our concept of it. He holds all things in his everlasting existence. We proclaim that His kingdom will have no end. This means we have time; time to stop, time to listen, time to pray and invite God to work, time to wait for God to emerge and reveal Himself the source of wisdom.

Impatience and urgency are dangerous when making decisions. Yes, there’s a need for pragmatic decisiveness but should only be done in God’s timing.

Here’s where the General Synod has succeeded this week and where the House of Lord’s failed.

Members of the Church of England's Synod join in morning prayersIn November 2012 General Synod’s motion to vote female bishops failed, only just but enough. What was clear back then was that the debate had been established on the principle that there was an ‘us’ vs. ‘them’. The aim was not to discover wisdom but to ‘win’ at any cost. Both parties on the extremes didn’t seem to care how they would win just as long as they did. This week, however, the tone of the debate was not on winning points and persuasion but a genuine, heartfelt desire to seek wisdom and to trust one another. The debate stopped being about party politics but more about seeking genuine peace and wisdom only found in the Spirit of God.

At Friargate Theatre back in May there was an evening entitled ‘The Stones Cry Out’ where two men from the Holy Land came and shared their stories. One was a Palestinian the other Israeli. Both men had lost daughters in the conflict and now they were travelling around together witnessing to the power of their relationship across the great divide.

The Palestinian father suggested the true route to peace is not to be pro-Israel or pro-Palestine but to be pro-peace. In order for real reconciliation and peace one must hold both parties in critical tension. To commit to both in equality and to be pro both and, at the same time, pro neither. This is not sitting on the fence! The problem with sitting on the fence is that the fence still exists. Real reconciliation is destroying the fence and stretching across to both sides.

berlin19-1To dismantle such a fence of division takes time, building trust and relationship something sadly lacking in our politics in this country. My very public critique of the Same Sex Marriage Bill was not based on some personal, moral judgement on homosexuality but on the way a decision was being sought. It was rushed. The lobbyists pressured opponents with the supposed lack of time and bullied people into making a response; to choose a side of the fence. Rather than taking the fences down they were happy to keep them there. People were forced off the fence onto one side or the other and it was all done by the manipulation of language. The same is being done with The Assisted Dying Bill.

When Lord Falconer was asked to give people time to engage and for a thorough exploration and facilitated discussion to take place he said there was no time. We need to make the decision now.

Why? Because he is afraid. He is afraid to wait. He is afraid of the suffering. He is afraid of what he might find when he stops and listens to the secrets of his heart. I sympathise with those who can see no hope in the future and want to take control of the confusion that surrounds them but the correct Christian response is to witness to our trust in the miraculous hope of God to bring peace and comfort. When all you have to look forward to is meaningless abyss then suicide may well feel like the best option; why wait?

We wait because, through the lens of Christ’s gospel we have lots to wait for.

Our gospel reading today calls us to deliberately and intentionally challenge our instinctive desire to act decisively ‘now’ to separate and divide; to judge ‘now’. God has time and so do we. God’s Kingdom will outlive every other lobbying group, political ideology and revolution. We are to look to Him for our wisdom not some human campaigner. This will mean we must exist in the painful complications of difference but it is in this field we call life that we grow. We live in peace when we accept God’s rhythm, God’s timing. Seeking relationships over and above position and power.

Peace is only achievable when we stop and let God work. To wait, often uncomfortably, in hope. This will often feel as if nothing will ever change, how it is is how it always will be but God waits for us to invite Him in and we should wait for Him to work. So let’s pray in God’s eternity for His hope and wait for His peace to rule.

 

Chapter 27: the abbot’s care of the excommunicated

cropped-color-calgary-header-3

The abbot must show great concern for the wayward brother

How do we deal with failure?

I am always amazed when a football team doesn’t do very well and the Manager is called to resign or step down. There was a period a few years ago when it seemed like the moment a team lost a game they’d change their Manager! The same is true in politics. Sometimes these removals from roles is for the best but other times it is a knee jerk reaction to the experience of ‘failure’.

Failure is not allowed in our culture. It is a sign of weakness and our survival depends on us “winning” (as Charlie Sheen put it). The problem is, of course, we’re not perfect… not even me (particularly not me!) Sooner or later we’re going to make a mistake and if we live in a climate of fear about failure it becomes increasingly stressful the more you have success because the more you succeed the higher the stakes are and the further you have to fall.

I want to reflect on a very local issue for me for a moment.

The Leader of the City of York Council, Cllr. James Alexander, has been in post since 2011 and has been on a mission to deal with long standing issues in the city. One of these long standing issues is congestion. Being a small city with historic walls surrounding the central area and a large amount of pedestrian precincts for tourists and shopping, our roads in York get clogged very quickly. There are some who could use public transport more (or cycle) allowing many necessary drivers to get where they need to go in the city. The problem is, no one is willing to admit that they don’t need to drive.

To attempt to do something about it, James Alexander, after discussion, instigated a trial to close Lendal Bridge, a prominent transport passageway across the River Ouse. It was always going to be controversial and it was always going to be complicated to communicate the change but the Council faced an onslaught of criticism. There were some (like myself) who had no strong views either way but were willing to see the trial through and ride the wave of discomfort experienced in any sharp change. The criticism did not cease and many people were penalised with the fine used to police and enforce the restriction.

Cynics went out in force to accuse the council, and James Alexander personally, of attempting to increase their pay packets by gathering the money accumulated by the fines. Everyone had a personal story of why they needed to drive through the zone at a given time and the fine was a sign that the council were heartless and un-compassionate.

At the end of the trial, the cynics and opposers had managed to sustain their complaint and continued to demand a retraction of the restriction. The council decided to extend it further and promised to revisit the issue. There was strong opposition on the grounds that the way the council had enforced the restriction was unlawful and the council reversed their decision, opening the bridge for traffic.

James Alexander had failed! The only just action was for him to leave office with his head down and admit that everything he thinks and does is wrong. His opponents could then, in the glory of being right step in and take on the role of power.

I have to admit a personal interest in this. I respect James Alexander. I don’t agree with all his choices. I could name some of his failings and mistakes but I have always felt that he has deep desire to serve the people of York and to keep promises he made in an election. I also happen to like an opponent of his, the previous head of the council, Lib Dem councillor Andrew Waller. Andrew and I sit in many meetings together and continue to work together. So James’ failure is Andrew’s success.

After the re-opening of the bridge the council agreed to repay the fines, after advice from an outside agency was involved. This was the ultimate admission that the whole closure was a mistake and must have been deeply embarrassing for James and his councillors. I was more upset, however, when his opponents were not satisfied with his embarrassment but wanted his resignation. It was never just about this particular issue it was about the annihilation of an opponent!

Mistakes are made. Failures happen. I am reminded of an interview with Russian theatre director, Lev Dodin when he said,

Failure… leads to quite artistic things, because if you are not afraid of failure you can try, you can experiment, you can search for new ways, whereas when you are afraid of failure you wouldn’t do it, you would do it the way you did it yesterday… (Lev Dodin in conversation with Robin Thornber at the Royal Exchange Theatre, Manchester, 23rd April 1994, Michael Stronin (tr.), cited in Maria Delgado and Paul Heritage (eds.), ‘In Contact With The Gods?: Directors Talk Theatre’ (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1996) p74)

In an interview, James Alexander admitted his mistake and explained he was trying to solve a problem that continues today; that of congestion. He asked for the alternatives to eleviate this problem and promised to search for the solution. The interviewer was not satisfied and pressed him to acknowledge his embarrassment further and even decide to resign.

I felt for him. Over the last two years I have got to know James a little bit and I know how much he cares about his work. I get tired of cynics. Cycnicism is yet another sickness our culture suffers from. It is addictive and damaging. It kills hope and encourages bitterness and resentment. It stems from a competitive spirit which engulfs us and brings nothing but death. There are some in the city of York who seem to be particularly cynical and spiteful. The way people speak of public figures is violent and horrible. The pressure felt by many of those who try and serve the citizens is immeasurable and I feel for them. I long to be able to help them in their distress. No one deserves the sort of treatment they receive at times.

Imagine that every time you make a mistake people turned round and dismissed you, stopped talking to you and forced you to give up parts of your life. Imagine that you upset a partner and you were forced to leave your home and children. Imagine if you upset a colleague at work and were forced to leave your job. It is easy to get rid of someone who has succumb to weakness or made a mistake. This is an easy punishment but this is not excommunication!

In this chapter it is made clear that excommunication is aimed to be a temporary state where the abbot can give his utmost care for a member of the community who is struggling. This is not about enforcing more embarrassment and pain. It is not about taking some strange pleasure in rubbing salt into a wound. This is about caring for ‘the sick’.

cropped-color-calgary-header-3

The church is for sinners

St. Benedict quotes Matthew’s gospel,

those who are well do not need the physician, but those who are sick. (Mt 9:12)

In their chapter on the Church in ‘Red Letter Christianity: living the words of Jesus no matter what’ (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 2012), Shane Claiborne and Tony Campolo quickly begin talking about hypocrisy,

[SHANE:]Here’s what I’ve come to realize: people do not expect Christians to be perfect, but they do expect us to be honest. The problem is that much of the time, we have not been honest. We’ve pretended to be perfect and pointed fingers at other people.

[TONY:]While Saint Francis recognized the church’s failures and hypocrisies, he still saw it as a community of faith where Christ could be encountered. When young people say to me, “I can’t be a part of the church because the church is full of hypocrites,” I always say, “That’s why you are going to feel right at home among us.”… In the end, we’re all hypocrites.

I’m always struck by the issue Jesus tackled lots: hypocrisy. He does not condemn the Pharisees. He never sought to destroy them or eliminate them; he always sought to name the issue – hypocrisy. The Pharisees were not un-saveable, beyond redemption; they were sick like everyone else and Jesus named their sickness. Jesus loved and respected them and wanted to see the Pharisees flourish. Jesus says that many of the Pharisees are close to the Kingdom of God (Mk 12:28-34).

It is easy to dismiss failures but harder to live with them because when we see them being forgiven and redeemed by God and are forced to ask,

Can I too be forgiven?

It is easier to condemn than to hold and seek healing. It is easier to end suffering with a quick decision than wait and seek surprising hope. This is my ultimate issue with the Assisted Dying Bill; it’s easier to die than to hope. I do not blame those who suffer great pain to want it all to end ‘now’; I know that desire to succumb to the abyss for it surely is a comfort compared with the searing pain of this life. If you look around you and there is nothing to live for why bother? Why continue?

I’ll finish on a painful and personal truth: I often ask if it would not be better just to end my life. What a mess the world is in. How much pain I cause without even knowing it. All my attempts at improvement fall and I am weak. If there is no hope of me achieving the perfection which is demanded upon me then I should end it all now. I feel this in the darkest points of the night. I feel the desire of the countless number of people who look at this world and the failures of us all and think we should just end it all now; why wait?

It is not compassionate to agree and encourage that action. Compassion is acknowledging that thought, feeling that pain and the reality of that desire but, to be Christian is to proclaim hope. To look at the world through a different lens. The lens of Christ says it is worth holding on. It is worth the wait.

I was deeply struck by Lord Falconer’s response to the church requesting a Royal Charter to look into the issues raised by the Assisted Dying Bill. Falconer is quoted as saying, that the matter must be discussed urgently.

Why rush? The same was said two years ago in General Synod about women being allowed to become bishops; in the impatience of a motion we rushed it and it fell. Now, after time and facilitated discussion a better, strong case is formed and led to healthy commitment to one another.

Reflection

Yes it’s easy to push ourselves and others into the abyss of rejection and loss but that is not what God does to us. He judges us but commits to the healing and redemption as well. He will not reject nor abandon us in our weakness, hypocrisies or failures. He knows that failures shape most of what we do and that fear is crippling. He speaks hope of renewal and new life to us; that is the Christian message.

For my friend James Alexander I say, ‘Do not be afraid. God gives you a second chance and you’re still loved.”

To those struggling in the temptation of making a clean break and retreating from those they have disappointed or let down, either through moving or death, I say, “Do not be afraid. God is the Good Shepherd and he will find you, wherever you run to, and he will comfort you and restore you.”

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy upon us sinners.

Come, Lord Jesus.