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Chapter 9: how many psalms are to be said in the Night Office

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…As the singer starts the Gloria, everyone will stand at once and all will bow their heads in honour of the Holy Trinity.

What’s so special about ordained ministry?

The fact that St. Benedict decides to give more than one chapter to this particular Divine Office seems to highlight an important point. I feel, having sat with it for a week in prayer, the point it makes is the cost of this particular monastic calling. If the Divine Office of Matins starts at midnight and the next Office (Lauds) is at daybreak then the question of when sleep happens is very pertinent.

Last week I decided to stay up and do prays starting at midnight. I did the Evening Prayer from Common Worship with all the Canticles and lectionary readings and psalms. I was finished at 12.35pm but I didn’t spend that long in intercessory prayer. To be truthful I was rushing the office. My meditation on the Psalms was minimal at best and the readings weren’t going in. This is all forgivable, I told myself, but what was interesting was that what I was asking myself to do was small in comparison to what is required of the Office of Matins in the Rule of St. Benedict.

If you just read the amount of Psalms alone it’s enough to make your head swim (and I love the Psalms!) This is clearly a long Office and is intended to be a real ‘vigil’. As monks you were being asked to, after a day of work and prayer to stay and watch with the Lord, like the disciples in Gethsemane. Before Matins some monks would have to have had a short nap in order to give full attention to the Office because I don’t think an abbot would be too pleased with snoring during an Antiphon!

This week, as part of the Northumbria Community’s set daily reflections, have been using quotes that have shaped the community’s narrative and identity. On March 2^nd they quote Thomas Merton,

The monk is not defined by his task, his usefulness. In a certain sense he is supposed to be ‘useless’ because his mission is not to do this or that job but to be a man of God. (Thomas Merton, ‘Contemplation in a World of Action’ (New York: Doubleday, 1971) p.27)

A monk, unlike others called into ministry (lay and ordained), is to be dedicated to the work of prayer and watching. Increasingly I feel, within the conversation of ‘leadership’, that the forms of leadership of the laity and the clergy are so synonymous that it is hard, with any integrity, to distinguish the two unless we embrace a more monastic view of ordained leadership. This distinction would then release the model of leadership currently being proposed as ‘ordained ministry’ into the realm of the laity (as it already is in many instances) focussing on the life of ordained ministers to be the necessary centres of sacraments, prayer and watching.

This is not necessarily a passive, background ministry, although that may be one form it takes. Rather it allows for a spiritual leadership of a community distinguished from the functional, administrative and management that ties down many rectors, vicars, priests. To be the centre of sacraments is a more holistic ministry than the purely functional presidency of the Eucharistic life of the parish but extends to the ministry of reconciliation, bridging and being the focus of connection with a tradition both historically and globally. The ordained ministry, in all three forms (deacon, priest and bishop) would then be allowed to be a more spiritual oversight and guides to a community giving equal worth and value in the lay ministry of leadership akin to a Prior in the monastery compared with the abbot.

The work of keeping vigil is an important one but one that cannot be done by the same people who also have the pressures and strains of keeping and maintaining the practical work of a community going. The two must be connected and serve one another and so the organic image of the Body of Christ comes into focus.

In the missional community I am a part of, Burning Fences, there are many exercising leadership amongst us. What’s exciting about the group is the freedom for any member to take responsibility and direct us. There are clearly those who do this more naturally than others but there’s also those who do this leading in a more quiet way. As I reflect on my role within this particular community I am excited that I am free to be a priest amongst them; ordained in the Church of England to be that focus of tradition, a story-keeper of the Christian faith. This means that I can participate in discernment as to the direction we should take but not more so than anyone else. I bring a unique and important voice to discussions, yes, I speak on behalf of the Christian faith, with all the responsibilities that brings. I watch, with God, those who drift and dwell around the edges and try and warn against falling into an abyss that will hurt or harm. I am not the centre of power, however; far from it. Others make decisions. I am their to ensure the story continues to ring true in character and is connected into the larger story of God through Jesus Christ. If one decides to venture down a particular path and I have spoken warning, then I fall into silence and pray. I will, with God, walk down that path to search for them if they become lost and hold them until they come back to safety of His loving presence.

Reflection

This chapter in the Rule of St. Benedict challenges me on my vows as a priest,

With their Bishop and fellow ministers, they are to proclaim the word of the Lord and to watch for the signs of God’s new creation. They are to be messengers, watchmen and stewards of the Lord. (The Ordination of Priests, Common Worship: Ordination Services, The Archbishops’ Council of the Church of England: The Prayer Book as Proposed in 1928; The Alternative Service Book 1980; both of which are copyright © The Archbishops’ Council of the Church of England)

I do not see in my vows the terms of management, secular leadership, etc. which is pushed through some areas of the Church. Why not release this to the laity and encourage and empower them to do this and for those called to ordained ministry to be those who oversee the spiritual aspects of the worshipping community? I’m sure there is funding issues and logistical issues in relation to manpower and deployment but I feel there is conversation to be had on that.

The call into ordained ministry really centred on this watchman role, the one who is willing to keep a vigil for the Kingdom of God. I feel my priesthood is about being the person who watches a community, guards the vulnerable on the fringes and ensures they are reconciled to Christ as the centre. I am in a community to pull the community around Christ as the centre and to focus our mission into the work of the Church Universal through the Word and Sacraments.

Lord, make me useless in the eyes of others and strengthen me in my task of prayer, reconciliation and watching. Give me the heart to keep Your story being told through the lives of all who you put in my charge and may I lead them by my discipleship into Your loving presence each day.

Come, Lord Jesus.

Contemplating the Surprise

At the start of this year I began a practice of writing for twenty minutes a day to enable me to improve in the art form. Last night, as I sat down to begin this disciplined work I could think of a hundred and one different things I could be doing; the major one was sleeping. The temptation to miss a day remains a constant issue but the voices are getting quieter. They take the form, usually, of a simple question,

What harm will it do if you miss just one day?

Then a suggestion,

It’s not like you have anything particular to write…

It is that sentence which drives me to my desk, take up my pen and get to work. It’s the fact I don’t have any ideas to write or some pre-conceived concepts to wrestle out and process which inspires me to begin. You see, I have been involved in the arts for long enough to know what really makes us participate in creativity is the possibility to experience Surprise.

Surprise is the gold creatives and artists look for. It’s those moments when, despite having a thought or inspiration, however much the process is structured or one plans the product prior to the start of the work, an artist surprises themselves with the creation. In that moment there’s an awareness that we humans may not be alone in the process. We could break that particular encounter with surprise down into constituent parts like the ‘enlightened’ people we are but I know that such an exercise, stemming from 17th century science, has killed the arts. The research into creativity has led us no closer to a tangible explanation of that experience of ‘inspiration’.

All artists are seeking that surprise because it is a divine moment; a meeting with a force unnameable, holy. It is un-manufacturable and many have tried to force it only to be left high and dry. The reason it can’t be rushed or made to happen is because if you’re focussing on creating a surprise it will no longer be a surprise.

So the artist sits or stands or moves to the material and attempts, not necessarily to ‘empty themselves’ completely but to empty enough to focus on the process of the creative act. It is an emptying enough to create a void into which the creative force can fill or take over. What a mystery the creative process is! How it is done, etc. no one can fully explain. Why sometimes it ‘works’ and other times one is left wanting, who can say?

The artist, unique from other creative people, is the one who returns to the material as a matter of discipline, to rick being disappointed for the nth number of times. Chuck Close wrote this,

The advice I like to give young artists, or really anybody who’ll listen to me, is not to wait around for inspiration. Inspiration is for amateurs; the rest of us just show up and get to work. If you wait around for the clouds to part and a bolt of lightning to strike you in the brain, you are not going to make an awful lot of work. All the best ideas come out of the process; they come out of the work itself.

This truth reminds me of the work of monks or nuns at prayer; they don’t wait around for an alignment of the stars to tell them when to pray, they turn up and start. They have more encounters with the Divine not because they are better at discerning or predicting the movements of God but because they turn up more often. They know how impossible it is to forecast the Almighty but He is always experienced Here and Now and never There and Then. When something is so ungraspable one has to give oneself more opportunities to catch it and so one enters the arena and waits but here’s the real secret; it’s not just a sitting and waiting but, while waiting, one gets to work and, after a time… surprise.

Chapter 8: the Divine Office at night (Matins)

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During winter… the brothers shall rise at the eigth hour of the night as is reasonable.

Why does prayer need to be so structured?

What now follows, between chapter 8 and 20, is a series of short practical and pragmatic directions as to when and how to say prayers. This may be hard going, particularly for people who don’t like rigid structure to something that ‘should be heart felt and organic’. As an Anglican I appreciate set prayers as well as extemporary (free-form) ones. There are times when you cannot muster an articulation and everything in you is buckling to the temptation to not engage. We will all come into seasons when prayer is not only tough but painful; to sit and speak to God is the last thing you want to do. Duty binds you to do it and so you try to begin but you have no words to say. It is easier to wait until you feel in the mood.

A rhythm of prayer is essential for such times.

When I was at college we said Morning Prayer everyday from Monday to Friday at 8.30am. For many of us this was not an ideal time and the form was not to our liking. We were sat down early on by the then warden and she laid down the law. Everyone was expected to come to Morning Prayer unless there was extreme circumstances and ones that had been checked by a tutor. Why? Because it was about setting a habit which would sustain you. It was about developing a prayer life which wasn’t based on how you felt but on commitment to God.

We are so keen to keep relationships on our terms. We know that we are social creatures but we fail, so often, on those demands of real connection. We want partners and friends who fit into our lives but we are not always willing to adapt to fit into theirs. Prayer can’t be just when we want to. There needs to be an element of sitting in God’s presence for Him.

St. Benedict is setting a rhythm of prayer to create a habit which gives God as much opportunity to do His work in our life. When God is shaping us or challenging some sin in our life it is painful and we don’t want to engage in the process so we stay away from times when He may want to speak. We want to stay in control of how much we give over to Him. With a habit of prayer which is regular we are given the structures which guard our hearts against such temptations and steers us into His presence.

The Divine office at night, or Matins, was to be said before sunrise in the darkness. Here St. Benedict gives clear instructions in case anyone feels they can become lax on such matters. Lauds, or Morning Prayer, is to be said at sunrise. We will explore why they had seven Divine offices during the day plus the one at night later on. For now, I want to say what we all will be thinking…

Are you serious, Benedict?!

It is thought that Benedict meant to have Matins start at midnight and, after it is finished, to go to bed to be awake and ready for Lauds at sunrise (7am, or 6am in the summer). I thought, as I was writing on the Divine Office at night for the next four weeks I’d try and stay awake until midnight and do Matins at the set time. As it happens, on Wednesdays I have an ecumenical prayer meeting which starts at 7.30am. It’s not quite being ready for prayer at 7am but it’ll be painful enough. I want to see how it feels. I will write about my experience and reflections next week.

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Parish Prayers

The question arises, however; how is this possibly going to work in a parish context? Is this one thing which should be adapted? Practically I’d have to concede, yes, it is wrong to consider it workable outside the committed life of prayer in a monastery. This comes from experience of trying to get people to join me just for morning and evening prayer. I will be reflecting on this struggle to encourage a regular pattern of corporate prayer amongst people who have work schedules and families over the next few weeks because it seems it is over something as tangible and understandable as when we should pray together that this ‘parish monasticism’ all begins to unravel and I’m not in the least bit surprised. Why would Satan want us to pray regularly and be in a place where God will transform us?

Reflection

For the next week, try committing to praying at a set time each day, morning, midday, evening and night. Even for our of the eight offices set for Benedictine communities it’s tough going! I have established a habit of morning, midday and evening prayer and I still struggle to keep them, everyday. If this is too hard for you why not commit to taking on one extra prayer time than you’re used to. If you don’t have any set prayer time, set one, in the morning or at night or over lunch. You will definitely need a liturgy because you can’t always turn on prayer and sustain it for a set period of time; your mind will wander. There are lots of helpful prayers to help and hold you: The Northumbria Community’s liturgy is my preference, but there’s also the Simple Way’s Common Prayer and the Church of England’s Daily Prayer. Find one that you find helpful.

Lord, I want to meet with You on Your terms. I want You to do with me what You will however painful that might be. Reveal my weaknesses and strengthen me.

Come, Lord Jesus.

Chapter 7: humility

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…Without doubt, we should understand that climbing as showing us that we go up by humbling ourselves and down by praising ourselves.

What is humility?

Here we are. After 6 chapters introducing authority, obedience and living with others, St. Benedict dedicates a whole chapter to humility. Reading this chapter feels like it’s a summary of all that has been said before; he even repeats ideas,

The first step of humility is taken when a man obeys all of God’s commandments (c.f. The Prologue)

The third step of humility is attained when a man, from love of God, obediently submits to a superior in imitation of the Lord (c.f. Chapter 1)

The eighth step of humility is reached when a monk only does that which the common rule of the monastery or the example of his elders demands (c.f. Chapter 1 and Chapter 2)

The ninth step of humility is achieved when a monk, practicing silence, only speaks when asked a question… The tenth step of humility is reached when a man restrains himself from laughter and frivolity (c.f. Chapter 5)

I find myself reflecting on humility each week as I read the Rule of St. Benedict. I discover I am caught between a balking at an emotional/spiritual form of self mutilation and a deep desire to explore unchartered territory of anonymity. When I become aware of my mental gymnastics over this issue I am prompted to remind myself of what ‘humility’ is and is not.

Humility is rooted in the Latin humus, meaning “ground”. I find it helpful (rightly or wrongly) to rename it ‘grounded’. To be humble is not to become a doormat with no desire to establish an identity but rather a true and frank acknowledgement to your standing in the world. Once we begin to understand that to know who you truly are we can move away from our natural desire to reject St. Benedict’s twelve steps to humility. This is not to say that humility should not carry some fear and discomfort for us humans, naturally bent towards pride and selfish individualism of many forms. The process to humility is about stripping off false identities and claiming rightful ones, spiritual ones.

There are thoughts which spring to mind as I talk about natural desires and identity. The first is a thought picked up from Gregory Boyd in his book ‘God of the Possible’. He suggests,

Genes, parenting, and spiritual forces do condition who we are. But for believers whose spirits have been regenerated by the Holy Spirit these conditioning factors cannot determine who we are unless we choose to allow them to do so. (Gregory Boyd, God of the Possible: a biblical introduction to the open view of God (Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 2000))

Boyd is saying that we are conditioned by biological and experiential factors to do and be certain things but none of these factors should control or oppress us. By the Holy Spirit (and that is the emphasis) we are set free from conditioning factors to be transformed, strengthened to follow the way of Christ. We should no longer claim, ‘I can’t do that. It’s not how I was made.’ God knows of what you are made and that is why He sent His Holy Spirit to help us.

The second thought comes from reading Leonardo and Clodivus Boff’s book ‘Introducing Liberation Theology’. There’s a quote which resonated with the reflections I’ve been having whilst reading this chapter.

The gospel is not aimed chiefly at “modern” men and women with their critical spirit, but first and foremost at “nonpersons,” those whose basic dignity and rights are denied them. (Leonardo Boff and Clodivus Boff, Introducing Liberation Theology (Tunbridge Wells: Burns & Oates, 1987) p.8)

I do not want to belittle or ignore the main aim of the Boffs’ statement, that of the extreme poor in our world, but I was drawn to the term “nonpersons”. This phrase reminds me of John Zizioulas’ work on Christian anthropology particularly an excellent article entitled ‘Human Capacity and Human Incapacity: A Theological Exploration of Personhood’. Zizioulas articulates a distinction between humans and persons; one is a biological phenomenon the other is a metaphysical reality achieved through communion with God. It is through this divine communion, in baptism, Eucharist and the Body of Christ (the Church) that one transforms from ‘human’ to ‘person’.

I want to suggest that the gospel is for “modern” men and women precisely because they too are “nonpersons”, the difference is that they deny personhood themselves rather than having them denied by others. The path St. Benedict sets out in this chapter on humility is a process for all people to develop from human to person through the task of community.

Ultimately, St. Benedict’s process to spiritual growth and deeper communion with God is set out at the beginning of the Rule as he describes the ideal monks, the Cenobites, ‘who live in a monastery waging their war under a rule and an abbot’. To live a life of discipleship in the Kingdom of God one must be obedient to a community and an abbot. Humility will arrive after one has journeyed the difficult and treacherous road through community.

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Humbling Ourselves

I would love to explore each rung of St. Benedict’s ladder to humility but I am both daunted by such a task and ill-equipped. I do want to spend a few moments, however, reflecting on St. Benedict’s analogy.

I was struck by St. Benedict’s use of direction in his depiction of the ladder to humility. He suggests we climb to the ‘highest peak of humility’ which is a journey away from the ground and up to heaven. The model I would tend to consider is the depiction of Christ’s humility in Philippians 2:3-11

Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others. In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus, who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death – even death on a cross! Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

Christ humbled himself and came down. In the gospels Christ describes humility as putting yourself lower and, in so doing, paradoxically being raised through exaltation by God. Humility, in my mind has always been a descent into that ‘humus’/grounding.

This leads me to another reflection I’ve had about humility; The analogy depicts hard work and intentionality about achieving humility. There are set, pragmatic steps to take to arrive at this state of humility. This unsettles me. I am not suggesting that St. Benedict is wrong or misguided in his teaching but I am rather challenged in my pre-conceived attitude to humility.

My question is, ‘can I humble myself?’ What I mean by this is, is the process of humbling an act we do or an act that is done to us by others and God? The passage from Philippians clearly says Jesus ‘humbled himself’ but is that possible because He is the Son of God or is it an invitation that we should od the same. The difference between humbling yourself and being humbled may seem pedantic and semantic but I think, in relation to St. Benedict’s call to climb the ladder to humility, it is important to ensure where our focus is. Are we to look at humbling ourselves or rather look at living in community and, in doing this discovering we are humbled?

I would want to suggest that humility is achieved by living out the life of obedience in a community, committing to the actions of considering others before yourself, seeking the common good for those to whom you have committed higher than selfish ambition and vain conceit; in short, to love, truly and in imitation of Christ. If you do this then you will find yourself humbled. These steps to humility by St. Benedict are like the Beatitudes in Matthew’s gospel,

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

We read these wrong if we feel we need to mourn, to be meek, to be peacemakers, etc. in order to be blessed. Our focus is wrong if we think that the point of these statements is to show us how to be blessed, as if they are some self-help programme. These are statements of truth not guidance as to how to live your life. These are more about virtues than about practical steps to self improvement. It’s the paradox and challenge of the life of faith in Jesus Christ; you achieve the goal (salvation, arrival into heaven, enlightenment) by not focussing on achieving that goal.
Community is the same,

Christian brotherhood is not an ideal which we must realize; it is a reality created by God in Christ in which we may participate. (Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together (London: SCM Press, 1954) p15-16)

Organic community is not a product, not an end result. Organic community – belonging – is a process, a conversation… It is not the product of community that we are looking for. It is the process of belonging that we long for. (Joseph R. Myers, Organic Community: Creating a Place Where People Naturally Connect (Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 2007) p125)

Reflection

Looking at community within the parish context becomes complicated when you’re aim and focus is building community, as if it were a product or goal to achieve. Community is the process of loving others; the focus is on doing the process rather than achieving the product. It’s like art: an artist may have an idea of what the piece may look like or express but whilst working on it they must cast that dream to one side and engage fully in the task of creating. Then the art is more beautiful and surprising, even to the artist themselves.

What St. Benedict is placing before us is a series of activities to do, not to achieve humility in ourselves but to encourage the growth of community around us and in that rich soil the seed of humility is grown, hidden even from our own eyes until, at the end, when the Reaper comes for the harvest we will find, with Him, that we have born good fruit.

Transformer of humans, Come by Your Holy Spirit and guide me in the way of love and obedience. That, in doing this I will be rightfully humbled even to death and thus be exalted by my Heavenly Father, for His glory and His Kingdom.

Come, Lord Jesus.

Chapter 5: obedience

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The first degree of humility is prompt obedience.

Why should I listen?

There is a myth that ‘millennials’ (my generation who have grown up saddling the millennium) have no respect for authority. In reality I think we do have respect for authority but the authority must be earned before it can be trusted. This does lead to many of us dismissing first instances of authority, particularly if it is enforced with rigor; this is a dangerous tendency. Our primary authority is no longer in older figures, previous generations but rather in peers; this is an even greater danger for what it leads to is a narcissistic, blind belief in our own power, understanding and un-walked wisdom.

Blogger, Anna Mussmann, has written a really interesting critique on culture using the young adult fiction which is popular. The article is called ‘Millenials Think Authority Figures Are Untrustworthy Idiots, And Modern Culture Is To Blame’ and takes stories such as Hunger Games, Finding Nemo and Splendors and Glooms to explore what these books have taught and continue to teach us growing up in this culture. Mussmann argues,

…when young adult fiction encourages reliance on transitory, peer-based relationships, it casts off the unifying role that classic literature once played. Our stories no longer bind multiple generations together. Instead they divide them… we even structure young people’s lives in ways that decrease adult influence and increase peer culture: our children are separated by age at school and attend age-specific youth programs at church (often never participating in traditional services that are designed for all-ages). They listen to their own music and text in their own language. The qualities which unify a culture, such as music, etiquette rules, and stories, are all things of which youth have their own.

This article is fascinating when considering my own attitude to obedience to authority figures of older generations. The issue, in my eyes, is always with them. This is an unhealthy reaction to many older people who have lived and experienced many things. I don’t want to dismiss my generation too quickly though. I do feel there’s always been an earning of trust and some blame must fall onto the previous generation who, after dismissing their parents for the mess of two world wars and the violent climax of enlightenment and modernism, felt they should never impose obedience on their children. In this context is it any wonder that young people today have little to no moral compass to guide them through the chaotic adolescence.

If you are a regular reader of my blog then you will know that over the last two or three years I have been increasingly vocal about ethics and virtues and the nature of moral discussions (read On Secularism, The Hunch, The Compulsion and The Overwhelming Pain, The Pope is Dust Just Like You and There is No Majority). The heady mix of my generation with my parents’ generation when running a society, is a cocktail for increasingly isolated people with highly subjective opinions to right and wrong trying to co-habit a claustrophobic space which leads inevitably to an increase in violence, physical and political. Our politic is broken because we have taken a shared narrative away and allowed a vacuum to be created. We now happily worship the absence in true nihilistic fashion.

Many young adults, especially those from the less affluent backgrounds, feel that they live in a world where family and community have eroded to the point of dysfunction. Personal loyalty may be their only hope in a dark, chaotic, and existential world. This kind of loyalty is the same moral value on which both gangs and tribes are built, and in many ways, our culture encourages a new kind of clique-like tribalism. Paradoxically, however, such loyalty is also constantly mutating, because our peer-oriented relationships (friendships and marriages) are self-chosen and therefore dissolvable. In real life the group loyalties break and reconfigure under strain. Such single-generation tribalism is also incredibly narrow. G. K. Chesterton argues that families are far more broadening than self-chosen companions because they force individuals to learn to understand many kinds of people. (Anna Mussmann, ‘Millenials Think Authority Figures Are Untrustworthy Idiots, And Modern Culture Is To Blame’, The Federalist, February 4th 2014, http://thefederalist.com/2014/01/23/millennials-think-authority-figures-are-untrustworthy-idiots-and-modern-culture-is-to-blame/)

Through this millennial lens I read St. Benedict’s words on obedience. I have explored in the previous weeks the role and nature of the abbot and have wrestled personally with my own attitude to the leader figure. I would argue that it is right, at this time, to reshape our understanding of leadership to fit the culture. In order to do that a leader must become an advocate to the people under his/her authority and we should embrace a more flat leadership model, organic in nature. This does not mean that the leader must become a friend, homogenous to the group, for that complicates the role of wisdom and obedience needed in order for personal and communal growth to occur. Authority is needed and it must remain external to the self. Tribalism is not a healthy way to exist but there are elements of it that should be encouraged; togetherness, sociality, loyalty but in Narnia this balance between friendship and authority is beautifully portrayed in the character of Aslan who remains aloof and separate from the children who must negotiate the strange and dangerous world of Narnia. I return again to the model of the ensemble theatre company; there is a sharing of leadership and direction but the role of the director becomes one of facilitator and ‘story-keeper’. This role ensures that authority is named and placed in a specific place. The challenge comes when the person who takes on that role mis-uses it. This is why the selection of such a person must come from the group and is placed on them through a sense of vocation and discerned calling.

Aslan’s style is to be alongside, encouraging but at times to demand the respect and authority to, enigmatically at times, to guide the children into strange and unknown experiences. The children do not understand why at the time but they are encouraged to trust the authority of figure to do it anyway. My generation would instinctively baulk at such suggestion,

Why should we?

Who does he think he is?

He doesn’t know me. He doesn’t know what’s good for me.

When I think of my personal authority figures, the ones who know me and guide me and whom I respect and obey, most of them are of a previous generation. They have earned my trust but remain separate enough from me to be able to command me and my will.

The church, I feel, must reflect on this cultural issue seriously when we discuss the nature of leadership and authority. There needs to be an overhaul of our images and models of leadership and I am increasingly convinced that we must return to a ‘priestly’ model where reconciliation and spiritual depth are primary roles. Obedience is demanded like Jesus demanded it; not by His words first but by His character. He was obviously a man who commanded attention but where it came from, no one could tell. Jesus, of course, is unique but as priest’s we are called to be His ambassadors in His Body, the Church. We are called to stand in His place between people and places, heaven and earth. We are to follow Him closely to encourage the people of God to do likewise. We must commit our lives to being lead by our Master in obedience and to speak the commands we follow to those whom God calls us to.
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Sacrificial Obedience

Not satisfied with calling the monks to obedience, St. Benedict takes it one step further and asks them to do so ‘without fear, laziness, hesitance or protest.’

Orders should be carried out cheerfully…God will not be pleased by the monk who obeys grudgingly, not only murmuring in words but even in his heart.

I am guilty of saying that I am happy to obey authority but doing so questioningly and with reservation. I act, in line with commands, suspiciously or creatively twisting the will of my superior to fit my own desires and will. St. Benedict is clear that true spiritual growth will occur when ‘These disciples must obediently step lively to the commanding voice – giving up their possessions, and their own will.’

I’m not sure if what I am about to suggest is skewed by my generational attitude to authority but I wonder if there’s an understanding here that the abbott himself is under the authority of the Rule and, prior to being called to the role of abbott has shown himself obedient to it. Thus his authority has been proved through his own discipleship. I wonder if his own discipleship and obedience must remain the hallmark of his leadership. The abbott must, in this understanding, follow and imitate Jesus, his Master, who followed and imitated His Father.

Reflection

This week’s chapter has cut to the heart of some personal issues for me and I am convicted to pray through my attitude. There is a sense in which it is a nudging back in line with God’s will and not a whole hearted overhaul. In parish ministry at this time there is a large confusion about right and healthy distinctions between ordained ministers and laity. In the past there has been some devastating situations caused by those in authority in the church and this has destroyed much of the Church’s authority. To destroy the whole thing and dismiss the tradition is too risky and dangerous and is akin to throwing ‘the baby out with the bath water’. There is such a call to wisdom but, unfortunately, my generation in this culutre will struggle to find wisdom for we no longer ascribe to a shared cultural narrative and to any virtues of character. The characters we share are story-less, peer-guided and self selected. With no wisdom this self-selection is vacuuous and vapour and we will lead ourselves ever darker into the abyss of nihilistic existence.

Lord have mercy upon us all.

Come, Lord Jesus.

Fleeing to No-Man’s Land

bf_logo_brown I have had the privilege of being welcomed into a community over the last year which has had an ongoing and deeply transformative impact on me and my vocation as an ordained priest. The community are mainly in their twenties and would, at a cursory glance, be classified as ‘arty’ intellectual types, although this is not entirely true; not that they are not either of those things but that which unites this group isn’t those two general categories. It is only in the last month or so that I have begun to grasp the ‘charism’, the ‘je ne sais qua’, of Burning Fences.

I have come to realise that this gathering on a Wednesday night is a place between. What I mean by that is, it is a space which exists in no-man’s land between many human cultures, traditions, institutions and philosophies. Many are ‘de-churched’, meaning they have opted out of the church system. This does not automatically mean they have no faith in Jesus, but they are definite in their questions of institutional religion. Others are ‘de-society-ed’, meaning they have opted out of social institutions including politics, economic models and/or cultural pressures.

Whilst some are exiting church due to lack of a tangible truth to the statements trotted off each week, others are dismissive of social powers for the same reason. Capitalism: failed. Democracy: broken. Hierarchy: oppressive. Education system: stifling. In our community these things, at best, do nothing for us, at worst are an abuse. Church has hurt many of us and society has not done much better. We are all ‘de-something’, ‘post-something else’ and ‘anti-the other’ but…

We find joy.

a3257979419_10 Before I stumbled through the doors one cold December night, this community had been meeting, singing and telling stories for a year or more. They had produced a CD of songs which they had developed entitled ‘Of Anthem and Ashes’. The images that were resonating with them then and remain reverberating through our times together are phoenix like resurrections; songs sung in the rubble, new plants breaking through concrete. These images have always resonated with me and it’s why I know I am a ‘fence burner’.

What’s unique, in my experience, with Burning Fences is we are not just angry rebels without a cause. I felt, at first, our position was always, first and foremost, against but now I appreciate that our primary position is for; it’s for joy, hope, faith, creative and transformative actions of love. We are for justice. We are for freedom. We are for foolishness. We stand up for singing and fairytales and we stand proclaiming the truth that we find in them; a truth higher than the ones incarcerated in creedal dogmas and policies from committees.

What unites us is not the borders we’ve crossed to get to Burning Fences, its the central tenants which have drawn us closer. It is not that we are all ‘de-churched’ or ‘post-capitalism’ or ‘anti-establishment’ it’s that we are dreamers singing songs from ages past with the fresh melody of our eternal youth.

We struggle to define ourselves, not because we cannot tell you what we do or why we do it (although we may amble around some wording) it’s because we don’t believe in definitions. Definitions limit and control; they create an object that is to be studied and understood. We, I think, want to rather express. Expressions manifest and present; they allow the subject to be encountered, however fleetingly. Groups and communities always get to a point where they organize. It’s at this point where a small death occurs. That which was new, organic, growing, evolving becomes marked and measured. It’s a necessary part of all groups some would say, but, I wonder, is it as necessary as we think?

Organization contains mechanistic tendencies, structures which are intentionally built to ensure all parties are protected and held. Organization does an important job of mediating between subjectivity of members and individuals can devolve responsibilities to the processes and structures put in place. The alternative, I want to tentatively suggest, is the organism.

Organisms are natural and, in some respects, self-evolving and responsive to environment. Organisms exist in constant fragility and transient ways and yet can endure much. The church has traditionally been associated with organic images; a body, a family, a vine, a tree. Ferdinand Tönnies articulates a possible contrast between these two models which he describes as ‘organic communities’ and ‘associative societies’,

…one can distinguish between ideal types of organic and associative social structures. A person is born into an organic social structure, or grows into it; by contrast, a person freely joins an associative social structure. The former is a ‘living organism’ whose parts depend on the whole organism and are determined by it; the latter is ‘a mechanical aggregate and artifact’ composed of individual parts. The former is thus enduring, the latter transient. In short, organic social structures are communities of being, while associative social structures are alliances for a specific purpose. (Miroslav Volf, ‘After Our Likeness: The Church as the Image of the Trinity’ (Michigan: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1998) p. 179)

concrete2 The times when Church is most frustrating, for me, is in the ‘necessary organization’. What irks me is the lack of convincing Biblical precedent. The Temple system failed and yet here we are in the 21st century rebuilding it. I get it, organic is messy and uncontrollable, unpredictable but it’s how the world functions. We human beings are devastating when we control and tinker with the organic creation. We’ve tried to organize the world and what we discover is we’re trapped in boxes which do not fit nor encourage us to flourish in the ways in which we should.

Take growth as one example:

Organizations grow but only when there is intentional distribution of resources in that area. Resources are limited and so constant supervision and analysis is required in order to maintain a healthy growth and balance with the repercussions growth brings (increase need for supporting the numbers and the work.) Growth is a task which is done. The temptation is also to continue to grow; to grow beyond the organisation’s means. When is the right time to stop growing? There is no reason to stop.

Organisms grow naturally; plants, animals, people. We do not need constant monitoring and an understanding of how it works we just do it. Yes, in order to remain alive we need protection from certain things but that’s not changing growth that just ensure an environment within which to grow. The purpose and identity of organisms can change and adapt, it’s inherent within the classification. It will be what it will be. Growth is not an intentional task its a natural process. Once it has reached a maturity the growth will inevitably slow down and settle into an identity (which still has freedom to develop) but even mature organisms continue to grow cells and reproduce.

Death is indeed part of the natural cycle of things but, like organisms there’s a continuity of energy from one thing to another and there is reproduction to ensure species continues. With the Christian tradition and narrative death is not to be feared. Despite us all passing through death, at the end we will all rise and live in resurrection glory (but that’s for another time.) plant-growing-through-crack-in-concrete

Burning Fences is an organism. It is one that understands itself as an evolving entity but not vacuuous of identity. Growth is occurring in different ways without us spending resources and monitoring to ensure that it continues because growth is a by-product of being. We have flirted over the last few months with basic organization but I am increasingly convinced that what this ‘Fresh Expression’ is doing, along with many others, is challenging the organizational model of church and society and telling the story of the church as organic. We are not the concrete instituition holding Man together and discovering we’re suffocating him instead. We are the plant life that persists in growing between the rubble of those falling idols.

As an ordained priest I do not want to be a manager. I do not want to be a systems analyst. I want to be one part of a network, a rhizome, of organic life that is fertile, naturally beautiful and expressing newness in the face of decay. I want to welcome the tired, weary, breathless, thirsty people as they run from the crumbling world into no-man’s land and host the party of endurance beyond death and decay. To feed them with nourishing bread and breathe new life into them. I want to tell the story of the world through the lens of a Creator who redeems and endures; coming and leading a people into the wilderness to find miraculous bread falling from the sky.

Burn those fences. Break down the walls and flock to the well where the water never dries up and to a table where the bread falls from heaven.

Chapter 3: the counsel of the brothers

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Whenever an important matter is to be undertaken in the monastery the abbot should call the entire community together…

How do we decide?

Nothing epitomizes parochial ministry like a P.C.C. (Parish Church Council). This infamous meeting is understood to be the centre of bureaucracy, pedantry and all the negative associations with institutionalized dogma which stifles creativity and growth. Although this is a common perception (sometimes through experience) I see great importance about these spaces of discernment and discussion. P.C.C.s, like Synods and other organisational meetings, can be places of collaborative ruling and creative dreaming but it relies on how you operate the vehicle.

I write this reflection after our first P.C.C. meeting of 2014. The meeting was good and productive thanks, in large part to how we have begun to shift the priorities and the character of the P.C.C. as a governing body for the congregation. Generally P.C.C.s settle into a natural place of being the red tape, officiators of all actions; if anything wants to be done, the P.C.C. need to know about it, do the risk assessments and fund it. The ideas, in this understanding, come from outside and those inside have the power to clear them or destroy them! We have begun to encourage times of creative thinking of ideas making. We now begin meetings with active engagement with Scripture through lectio divina which warms up the responsive and listening part of our brains, then there is a stimulus/problem presented and some ideas shared. After this is usually a time of sharing, challenging and reshaping. The character of this early discussion is open and fluid. It is deliberately not done behind tables with papers and pens but a conversational, non-committal approach which encourages free thinking and playful ideas.

If you re-imagine what a P.C.C. is for then it’s possible for the meetings to become a place of creative idea-making and the ‘business’/organisational activities can be done in the same way. It’s all about raising the expectations and awareness of what creativity is.

The times when these types of meetings become frustrating and tedious are when people see themselves and the P.C.C. as a ‘governing body’ as the safety net. There are people who stick so much to the letter of the law that they fail to appreciate the character of the law. This has been happening throughout history. If you see the law as restrictive then you become restrictive. If you see the law as constructive you become constructive. It is easy to fall into being ‘efficient’ and spending the time in recording and assessment rather than overseeing experiments and being creatively involved in protecting fledging projects and ideas. Why was that law written? What is the ultimate priority of this organisation? How can this law encourage that priority?

The role of overseer can often be caricatured as the ‘sensible’ one and hindering new initiatives,

Someone needs to be sensible. It’s a nice idea but you don’t appreciate how much work that will take.

This view that some people are the ‘ideas people’ and others are ‘the practical ones’ is divisive in communal discernment and creativity. It is true that we can naturally favour one role than the other but the really creative people I know have spent the time to learn the practical implications of their ideas. Equally, some of the most practical people I know birth great ideas from necessity and pragmatism. P.C.C.s can often name themselves as ‘pragmatic’ when they are the places where ideas should be shared and fostered; weaving the creativity in with the ‘rules’ is the best way.

When I was directing theatre it was a basic premise that artists need a framework within which to play. The canvas or page needs an edge and a performance piece needs a start and direction. The early part of rehearsals was about discovering the edges of this particular piece; what resources do we have? What are we bringing at this time? What do we not want to explore? Once you’ve played with the boundaries and established some framework you are free to be creative. That framework may change as necessity dictates but it needs to be established in order to know. I saw my role, as the director, as being the story keeper, the person who held and reminded the rest of the framework; not to be restrictive and dictatorial but to challenge and push the creativity. It’s too easy just to say an idea in a vacuum what makes it transformative is it impacting reality.

St. Benedict continues to portray the abbot, for me, as this story keeper.

The abbot himself must do everything according to the Rule and fearing God…

He doesn’t just demand the abbot to stick to the rules but invites creative discernment by bringing all the voices, ‘creative’ (if we can genuinely say that some are not creative) and the practical. Meetings are places where problems are solved in community. Wisdom finds flesh and reveals itself in reality.

The one major issues with P.C.C.s and Synods are the kind of people they attract in the current climate are people who, generally like to enforce the law. There’s something about the way in which they are presented and worked out that brings the Pharisee out in all of us. The rules/law is static, written on stone tablets and has supremacy over everything rather than a life-giving framework that encourages creativity and freedom.

Consider the vote for the outworking of women bishops legislation in 2012. It came down to the people in the room with their experience and desires. Outside of that room there were people who had an opinion and who cared about the judgement but the balance of power was all off.

St. Benedict is clear: gather everyone’s view, given and received in humility gained by the starting, collective principle that we are all under obedience. The abbot then decides, again with ‘consideration and justice’.

How can we protect ourselves from a dictator abbot?

You can’t. That’s why the selection of the abbot and his character is so important. That’s why he too must be under obedience to God and to be under the Rule. That’s why the monks must pray for him and he must remember that his primary calling is to present the monks under his charge as blameless before God.

Ultimately what I hear being proposed here in this chapter of the Rule is a conversation where each member is other-focused.

Individual desires have no place in the monastery.

Decisions are made in an open, non-threatening environment where all feel free to offer and add to the collective discernment. From experience it is in the space where decisions have already been made and there’s no real conversation to be had that people close down and act violently, passively or actively. In any governing body all attempts should made to communicate that there is real space to contribute and impact ones environment and reality. Those in privilege positions of power must be freed from the lie of oppression and become transparent to their intentions and desires. In this forum people are free to dream and hear the truth of God and His vision of the world He has created.

Reflection

I wonder what a P.C.C. would be like if it was run under the principles of Open Space Technology (or something similar). What difference would it make to present principles rather than ‘laws’? If those principles were agreed upon by all members and that the role of the chair of the P.C.C. was to seek creative, collective solutions to questions that were discovered within the narrative of those principles?

Almighty God, creator and judge of all that is true, guide all those in authority and positions of decision making. Bless and protect all who work towards justice and peace in places of debate and public governance. May the character of Your Son, Jesus Christ, be their model and guide as they seek to be transformed into His likeness.

Come, Lord Jesus.

Chapter 2: the qualities of the abbot

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In a monastery he is Christ’s representative…

What is leadership?

As I have sat with, prayed through and read the Rule of St. Benedict over the last three weeks the question of the role and significance of an abbot in the life of a person who desires to take on a form of monastic life has been pressing. I suspect the abbot has to be important if, before anymore details over the running and understanding of the monastic life is explored, this pragmatic, as well as spiritual, description of the character and role of the abbot is introduced.

In recent decades the role of a leader has become increasingly emphasized within churches. We now have a Global Leadership Conference and Holy Trinity Brompton host a large leadership conference in the Albert Hall. This striving towards better leaders makes me feel uncomfortable. The strategy and the techniques are taught with such ease that it seems that anyone can be a leader if they know the right stuff and do the right thing. I can agree that anyone can be a leader but it is a calling given by God and seen by others.

St. Benedict seems to be keen to emphasize the responsibility of leadership within the monastic life as being heavily spiritual; there are management concerns, yes, but this ‘leader’ ‘will be accountable on Judgement Day for his teaching and the obedience of his charges’, ‘he should know that the greater his trust, the greater the responsibility’ and he ‘must not undervalue or overlook the salvation of his charges. Thus he must always remember his task is the guidance of souls (for which he will be held accountable) and he must put aside the worldly, transitory and petty things.’

During my time at Cranmer Hall, Durham, we had a module of Christian Leadership. At the time I sat this module it was being taught by two godly men with one style or model of leadership: the chief executive. This model is useful within large organized congregations where there are lots of ‘departments’ working efficiently to share resources, both material and human, towards growth.

I have, in the past, been very critical of this approach to leadership and, although I have mellowed and grown to appreciate the strengths of such approach I remain questioning of the common expressions of it. My critique comes in how theology and spirituality is shaped by a model and the leadership of Jesus becomes too strategic and ‘task’ orientated. I have seen and experienced great harm done to people with this managerial approach to oversight and wisdom, grace and forgiveness have been squeezed too much in favour of the growth of the church and its reputation.*

The last session in our Christian Leadership module was led by Rev. David Day, a retired minister and ex-principal of St John’s College, Durham. His session was entitled ‘The Spirituality of Leadership’. I remember at the end of this session many of us held the double sided piece of A4 paper he produced as notes and knew that this was what the whole course should have been based on. I don’t want to explore Day’s session on leadership but one thing has sustained me as I took on an ordained leadership role within God’s church. It is a prayer of St Aelred of Rievaulx, an abbot.

To you, my Jesus, I confess, therefore;
to you, my Saviour and my hope,
to you, my comfort and my God, I humbly own
that I am not as contrite and as fearful as I ought to be
for my past sins;
nor do I feel enough concern about my present ones.
And you, sweet Lord,
have set a man like this over your family,
over the sheep of your pasture.
Me, who take all too little trouble with myself,
you bid to be concerned on their behalf;
and me,
who never pray enough about my own sins,
you would have pray for them.
I, who have taught myself so little too,
have also to teach them.
Wretch that I am, what have I done?
What have I undertaken?
What was I thinking of?
Or rather, sweetest Lord, what were you thinking of regarding this poor wretch?
(St Aelred of Rievaulx, ‘Treatises and Pastoral Prayer’ (Michigan: Cistercian Publications, 1995) p.107-108)

In this prayer I hear so much of Thomas Merton’s spirituality and it resonates with me. There’s a shared outlook on humanity, sin and this overwhelming sense of the grace of God. Humility is inescapable in this prayer and the prayers of other monastic writers.

As I read St. Benedict’s ‘qualities’ of an abbot I was struck by the expectations placed upon one person. The wisdom required for this role is impossible, unless you were the second incarnation of Christ Himself. It is easy to read this, in our current culture, fascinated with ‘the leader’, as a job description; things necessary to be called ‘a leader’. As an assistant curate in the church of England I’m aware of my assessment criteria to successfully prove to be ordained and affirmed as a minister in Christ’s church.

I try to not look at the Church Times’ classified sections as churches advertise for ‘rector’, ‘vicar’ and ‘minister’s but they may as well call a spade a spade and advertise for ‘Jesus Himself’. The tasks and qualities required as an ideal candidate is far beyond any fallen human being. I was glad to find an article written by ‘The Quotidian Cleric’ entitled, ‘The Perfect Job Advert’. What I like about it is it’s acceptance of the state of the human person behind the role of leader.

I think it’s important to note the title for chapter 64, ‘Election of the abbot’. It begins,

Always remember, concerning the election of an abbot, that he should be chosen by the entire community…

we will explore that in 62 weeks!

A leader is, before God, just another monk, dearly loved but desiring no individuality. As St. Benedict says,

…let everyone stay in his own place for “whether bond or free we are all one in Christ” (Rom. 2:11) and are equal in the service of the Lord; with god there is no respecter of individuals.

An abbot should not desire the role of authority for himself and should, along with the other monks, take responsibility for his own faithfulness and obedience under God. From this place, the call to discipline and rebuke is tempered with grace and humility. Love comes easier if you start from that place.

There is a conflict, however, within me. As the church in England heads into a missional mode of being, there is requirement for strategy and communication of discerned priorities. This focuses those, given authority by others, to make task orientated decisions. The pressure and skills needed to do this are greater and more stressful than we imagine; particularly if you add to this the expectation to also be aware of the emotional responses of many people as they hear and respond to the decision.

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The Role of the Monks

If an abbot is called forth by the community then they support him. Even if they don’t see him as ‘Christ’s representative’ they are called to encourage him to be transformed into His likeness. No abbot is perfect because no human is. The qualities outlined in this chapter of St. Benedict’s Rule are not to be achieved prior to appointment but are rather the pattern that God will now shape them into. The abbot, after appointment, now looks to allowing God to shape him in this particular way.

I am increasingly convinced we should begin discussing the relationship between role and gifting in that order. It is commonly spoken of in these terms: one receives spiritual gifts, given by grace to all, and with those you discover the call to a particular ministry within God’s church.

Firstly, the ministry is in the Kingdom of God and not solely activities run within church structures.

Secondly, I see, through Scripture, men and women being called first and then equipped second; Abraham and Sarah, Moses, Samuel, David, Mary, Peter, Matthew… Humility is easier to receive if you have nothing else given. All calls from God should begin with humble confused as to how we could possibly do what He is asking of us. If we, when we hear his call into a particular ministry/task say “Oh, that makes sense because you’ve given me these gifts to do it.” Then there’s no humility; you are trusting the gift before the giver.

And thirdly, the concern I have with the pattern of discussion around spiritual gifts and ministry is that if the gifts are given before any task is commanded by God, then you limit what God will ask of you. This is particularly instilled when we are given only one spiritual gift. If we begin by asking “Lord, what is it you want me to do, poor as I am?” then God can call you anywhere to do anything. It is right and Scriptural to respond, “How am I to do that, poor as I am?” And He will respond, “I will give to you what you need; the words, the strength, the insight. Follow my spirit and all things will be made available.” Once the task is done we turn and ask again, “What now?” He can still, if He is able to give more gifts for new tasks, command you to go somewhere else, where you have no experience and no skills. “That’s foolishness!” you say, “Why doesn’t He keep me on my career ladder building on from where I ended?” Because, it’s not about you can do but what He can do. He wants to show His glory and power because there is no other way you could achieve things He wants to achieve through you. Take Moses. There is no way he could have accomplished the Exodus. The glory went to God.

The role of the other monks, therefore, is to receive the abbot’s ministry as from God. To pray that God will use the abbot for the spiritual growth of His Kingdom. The abbot will not always do so as obediently as the monks or God would have liked but they forgive and encourage to see God use the broken vessel for His glory and His Kingdom.

Reflection

An Abbot is God’s representative within the monastery. The question, ‘Who is my abbot?’ will remain until there is a community from which the abbot is called.

I’m currently exploring a shared life within a small ‘missional community’ called ‘Burning Fences‘. These people are dear friends all exploring faith and are at different places on their journey with God. We come together not around a set of creedal statements but rather a shared desire to know and experience God (whatever that might mean). In a way, a spiritual community is growing amongst us and I remain expectant that God will reveal something profound in our midst. I wait for the revelation of what God is doing in, with and through us.

Until then, I continue to look to God as Abba and pray,

Abba, Father, what am I to do today that will encourage Your Kingdom to grow? Send me out, in the power of Your Spirit and not my own, to live and work for Your praise and Your glory.

Come Lord Jesus

*Please note that I am aware the reality of leadership in these contexts and this model is not as sinister as I depict and I am being overly general. I say this to paint an extreme in order to clarify the distinction between what I see in one model and what might be offered in another.

In The Rubble We Will Sing

This morning I woke to the news of the government drafting legislation for three person IVF treatment to allow parents to protect babies from defective mitochondria which leaves them ‘starved of energy, resulting in muscle weakness, blindness, heart failure and death in the most extreme cases’ (BBC News page) by having the DNA from a third party used in the creation of their child. This opens up a vast set of issues on the very nature of life, family, society, etc. After this item there followed the news that surgeons’ individual performance is to be publicised to enable to help patients make informed decisions. This too holds so many much much larger questions about our lack of trust, social contracts, etc. These items come on the back of the issue of gay marriage, banking reform, energy sources, etc.

The Western world is in turmoil. There is no denying that. Change is in the air and most, if not all, people are feeling unsettled, chaotic and scared. The world is always changing; look at Heraclitus (Greek philosopher of 5th century B.C.) who is famous for saying

You never step into the same river twice.

What is scary for me (trying as best as I can to take an overview) is how lost we all are. I use the word ‘lost’ deliberately and I use the word ‘we’ with equal seriousness.

We are lost because we have no direction or rather we have no shared direction when it comes to ethcial discussions. There is an ever-increasing number of options and subjective choice as to which direction we should take that no one view can be held as better or worse than another. This is the fruit of individualism and subjectivity. I have been saying it for so long I’m tired of hearing myself say it. We have got a culture where “What I think and feel is right because it’s what I think and feel.” This unquestioning subjectivity of reality leads to a break down of society. Descartes has a lot to answer for!

We are lost in an ethical abyss with no firm footing or basis by which to discern right from wrong. Our laws and government no longer know how to speak ‘truth’ because ‘truth’ is not shared or agreed upon. The legal system now just protects us individuals from hurting other individuals by our holy, sanctified individuval lives. And we are surprised by the rise in loneliness, depression, a deep seated experience of isolation from fellow human beings, relationships hard to find and sustain and the language we use is so fluid that any meaningful expression is lost and misunderstood. At the heart of this is the current discussion on marriage. This is the sole, most important issue which is unlocking all other issues.

I am seeing this ethical debate on the nature of marriage (both the contents and the way in which it was undertaken) as a piece of dynamite ready to explode the constructs already teetering on their foundations. I say this because it cuts to the core of our discomfort and uncertainties; identity, society, trust, relationships, love, truth, the place and reality of un-tangible concepts within our society, etc. Again (and I really mean AGAIN!) I am not putting a value on either view of the outcome of this particular debate. I do not want to add to that discussion. I am trying to see the underlying issues at work and discuss those.

All around us is wobbling. We are unsure that what we’ve built our lives on is a firm and secure as we first hoped. Then this piece of dynamite is placed along side the cracks already forming and it is blown.

It feels that, in search of freedom we have become enslaved to our own feelings, emotions. Beliefs are based on hunches and gut reactions rather than wisdom.

Wisdom. Where are you, Wisdom? We have built our replica of you and parade it about while you silently watch on from the wings. We make this pathetic imitation dance and move and are deceived into think that it lives but it is but a puppet representation of your life and being.

When will we learn that this individualism and self-seeking, self-constructed framework of society is a sham of the most dangerous and destructive kind?

We have no ethics because we no longer understand the most important fact that lies, unrecognised at the core of our existence: human beings are imperfect, unknowing, ignorant fools. Each and every one of us is skewed in our perception of reality. We are drunk, hazed over with our inner selfishness. Even me. I am guilty of that most hideous of crimes: self-delusion, pride even in my own self-disgust. I am trapped and imprisoned in my own ego. My ego lashes out defensively and subtly twists all I see and do into ‘right-ness’, justifications of thoughts, ideas, policies. My ego distorts, degrades and destroys reality for self-protection. That is why I use ‘we’! I stand in the dock and am guilty!

We. We are lost. Lost in this pathetic state of life. Once the explosion happens and all comes down, as it will and should what will we do?

Firstly, I suggest, acknowledge our weakness, our shortcomings, the ethical mess we are in. To admit the devastation around us. To pick up the pieces of rubble and weep over the brokenness. To silence all voices and to stand in the reverential place of pure and painful humility.

After this we must sing sombre songs of lament. In this place of seeing ourselves as the pathetic creatures we can become we must sing a song of sorrow from our hearts with the tears of truth streaming down our faces. Allow the melody of a minor key to stir us into deeper reality and begin to experience a healing. This healing cannot come from any human source for all those fountains are corrupted and diseased; what comes from them is the fruit of a poisoned tree. No. This healing is found by those who enter this place of reality with humility and fear, reverence and care. Its source is a fearful and un-nameable place which we all would rather forget and push to one side but its reality is sure. We have buried this source with our humanistic, concrete-like concepts of progress and intellect. It is been stopped by force by us. Silently and subtly we have continued to block it up with small incremental steps and we did it all in the name of ‘liberty’ and happiness. Now all our constructs are rubble, the plug has been freed and the pure waters can be drunk from again.

Finally, I want to shout, in the silence, after the songs of lament, confession, sorrow and disgust there is a space to, together, open our eyes. In the cracks of the devastation where the water of healing, life and hope trickles fresh, new things are growing. We recognise them but have lost their names. None of us will dare move in case we trample on the young buds sprouting. The purer ones of us, the ones well versed in lamentation and self-surrender, they will move first and welcome the new arrivals on our landscape. They will smile and will speak first, naming them afresh and reminding us of their beauty and truth. We will hear it; some recalling quicker than others and we will finally share the story of reality.

At the moment this is not and never can be possible in the way we are progressing now. We are blind to the truth and we are doomed together.

If

There’s a question that puts fear into many people’s heart, forces others to put up defense mechanisms and for others encourages the opinion that the one who is asking the question is naive and foolish. I believe this question, however, opens us up to inner transformation and the reception of joy and wonder. This question, when entertained and digested, changes our view of reality so that all we experience is brought into question. What is this question?

What if…?

Konstantin Stanislavski, a Russian theatre director, actor and writer on acting method, discusses the ‘magic if’. This kind of questioning allows an actor to transcend their perceived realities/ actualities and enter into the realm of possibility/potentiality. What is interesting about this technique, in light of philosophical understanding of ‘truth’, is it calls into question what we know about our experiences. Too often, in life, we believe only that which is actual, empirical, stable and tangible.

Rene Descartes’ search for true knowledge led him to dismiss anything that he could doubt in anyway. After discarding perception as unreliable he arrived at the famous belief ‘I think therefore I am’. Descartes’ conclusion is based on an understanding that if he doubted, then something or someone must be doing the doubting, therefore the fact that he was able to doubt proves his existence. At the most basic, Descartes knew he was a thinking thing. Despite my reservations about how this theory has been adopted and adapted by philosophers since (enforcing a natural turn to individualism and self centredness), it is useful in beginning the process of understanding the world around us as questionable.

The Matrix popularised this concept in 1999 as the protagonist, Neo, is pulled from his perceived reality into the real world. All that he had experienced up to that point was a fabricated, controlled and projected world which only existed in his mind; his real body was being farmed and used as a battery for alien beings. His discovery and explorations all start with the potentiality of such truth; he asked ‘what if…?’

What if I’m not who I am told to be? What if this is not the only way? What if it’s not true? What if it is true?

I grew up in a house where the search, the discovery, the process of learning was embraced and encouraged. In our family understanding and learning was the main aim of life. This has shaped me to be a person who asks questions, who never ceases to test, reflect and explore (much to the frustration of those around me!) Such questioning is not a challenge to authority nor is it a rejection of tradition; for me it is an awareness of and search for Beauty and Truth in the world around me.

As I continue to settle into this new community in York, I am re-discovering how uncommon such an outlook on life this is. I have been fascinated by how many people react so strongly to simple questions. People have felt threatened, challenged, insulted by me as I grasp hold of things, turn them over in my hand, investigate, prod, probe but ultimately with an attitude of wonder and intrigue. My wide eyed excitement at learning and experiencing something; trying to identify the uniqueness and intricate truths about something, enjoying it for what it really is and trying to find that which will make it mare real, more truthful.

What ‘what if’ questions do is open up our minds to the possibility of an encounter with the unknown. The reason this is scary is because the known is safe, comforting, stable. It is a rock on which we can have some foundation. We all have, however, just under the surface of our consciousness, a deep awareness of the changeability of life, the existence of flux; truth is not as certain as we thought it might be. The moment we entertain this thought our hearts begin to race and fear sets in. In matters of faith this becomes difficult to take. How can God be our rock, our firm foundation, whilst at the same time be ‘unknowable’ and transcendent. God refuses to be held, pinned down, confined and articulated fully. His relationship with human beings, throughout the Bible’s narrative, is one of playful, part-revelation. Ultimately His approach to encounter is one of ‘glimpses’ rather than fully and unrestrained.

I digress.

Innovation and creativity always starts with a question. The power, however, is not in the answers to such questions but the journey it starts. People often misunderstand the role of questions. As a theatre director, my role was to guide actors through a process of discovery, an invitation to enter into a world of awareness to the stimulation of their environment. An alert, aware, responsive actor is a prepared actor; the same is true of human beings.

Here’s where the question becomes powerful: We walk around on this earth taking so much for granted, assuming so many things, leaving most ideas, objects, beliefs unexamined. Socrates was right,

An unexamined life is not worth living.

‘What if’ questions begin the process of examination and contemplation. This process is scary, unsettling, overwhelming and uncomfortable but it is only by entering into this space that you find a strength so transcendent that you can remain calm even in the deepest storm. Living the question, in my experience, is becoming aware of the beauty, wonder, and amazement of the world around us. The smallest thing becomes of infinite importance, you hear words with all their meaning, you see faces with all their history, you see the potential of every person, even yourself.

People today close themselves off to the unexamined out of fear and trepidation whilst, at the same time, they close themselves off to new discovery, life giving encounter, affirmation, understanding of what is really going on. That which seems frightening, overwhelming is in fact an invitation to receive a gift; life.

Peter Brook finishes his book ‘The Empty Space’ with the following thought,

In everyday life, ‘if’ is a fiction, in the theatre ‘if’ is an experiment. In everyday life, ‘if’ is an evasion, in the theatre ‘if’ is the truth. When we are persuaded to believe in this truth, then the theatre and life are one. This is a high aim. It sounds like hard work. To play needs much work. But when we experience the work as play, then it is not work any more. A play is play.

I’ve been struck by how many people have questions and they feel uncomfortable with them. They are told by some unknown force that questions are bad and should be eradicated. I find the opposite to be true; answers destroy life. Rowan Williams suggests,

Christ may indeed answer our questions, but he also questions our answers.

I have returned again and again to the realisation that life is best experienced as a playful exploration and creative journey. Answers are the end of growth, searching and newness; questions begin journeys, discoveries and new life. In the theatre ‘what if’ questions wipe the slate clean and begin things again. Questions invite relationship with someone. Questions, when handled as gift, encourage our souls to sing with wonder, humble adoration and openness to all that is around you.

As I ponder my place in this new ministry I am aware that the world doesn’t need a church to answer their questions but one that creates a safe place to seek, explore and experience the Unknown. A church which asks the questions of society’s answers is a church embodying Christ Himself.