Author Archives: nlunn

Our Basic Needs (part I)

Having stayed up watching the riots and the consequent responses to the three day looting by young people and ‘opportunists’ it struck me that one of the factors behind this outburst is the concept of identity.

I watched an interview with four of the looters and when asked “Why did you do it?” they all spoke about getting the things they need which they cannot afford. This did not surprise me; of course they think they need trainers, clothes, plasma TVs, because that is what they perceive their culture’s demanding of them to have. Many commentators have talked about the ‘haves’ and the ‘have nots’ and it’s sad that there is so much truth in that. Zygmunt Bauman wrote,

These are not hunger or bread riots. These are riots of defective and disqualified consumers.

I would disagree with Bauman. These are our culture’s hunger riot because these consumable products have become our basic needs. Maslow’s hierarchy is collapsing and the second level of his pyramid, which states security of body, employment, resources, morality, family, health and property are all secondary needs to breathing, food, water, etc., is now perceived as the first.

The saddest part of watching the riots and the thing that is making most of us feel upset is the fact we have been forced to stare into a mirror. Our society does place material possession as equally necessary to the basic need of food. We can all pretend that this is mindless violence and greed but in actual fact this is predictable and is as valid as bread rioting.

Before I get misquoted I want to state I don’t think looting a plasma TV is acceptable but what I am suggesting is that for the looters society is communicating that material possession is our basic need; if you do not have these things then you are ill. (It is interesting that David Cameron said he thought parts of our society is ‘ill’) It follows that our society has bred a generation of people who believe that the ability to possess a certain commodity is on the same level as food and water; if they cannot consume then they are starving. In short, if they don’t have these things then they will die.

The riots are not about individual criminals, they are about consequence of a system. The riots are predictable because society has led my generation to believe that in order to discover who you are you must consume, if you cannot then you will die. Think of advertisements stating no less; ‘You need.’ ‘You deserve.’

The destination of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs is ‘self actualization’. Here is the issue; we are all seeking identity, to know who we are, what we are for, our purpose. The riots and looting were about grasping for the perceived building blocks of self identity. We have successfully built a social system which believes that our identity and purpose revolves around consuming certain products. Add to this implicit message the belief, that one can know ones self, with the statement, ‘To thine own self be true’ and we begin to see the twisted path we’re on.

The very fact that the purpose for which we need food, love, etc. is to find out about ourselves is dubious to say the least. Is self actualization and self identity really the benchmark for mental health? is this really the purpose of our lives? What I read in Scripture is very different.

He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves…” (Mk 8:34, Lk 14:27)

You were taught to put away your former way of life, your old self… and to clothe yourselves with the new self, created according to the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness. (Eph 4:22-24)

Do not lie to to one another, seeing that you have stripped off the old self with its practices and have clothed yourselves with the new self…according to the image of its creator. (Col 3:9-10)

Without heading into a whole chapter of my book (you’ll have to continue to wait for that!) I believe to be ‘Christian’ is to allow all our self to perish in order that we can be more like Christ. My view of Christ is informed very much by Paul’s letter to the Philippians,

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death- even death on a cross. (Phil 2:5-8)

What Christ modeled in his death was the total emptying of ‘self’, selfish ambition, desires, basic needs, ‘self’. As a follower of Christ we must become like Christ, emptying ourselves and putting on Christ.

That’ll do for now…

Come back for (part II) for further exploration. Until then find some time to listen to some of the political rhetoric flying around and reflect on what people are trying to achieve. Pray for our society lost in a matrix of problems revolving around self identity and purpose.

Creativity is My Faith

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder… If this is the case then you must all be terribly fond of me!
I’ve been on our annual UK tour visiting different people, catching up and falling in love again with friends, family and places. This year we had three legs of our tour; York (Riding Lights Summer Theatre School), Tunbridge Wells and the Kent coastline. All of these excursions took up time and focus and I couldn’t find much space to take myself way to write and be creative on my own.

I managed to keep one deadline, enforced from an external source, whilst at Riding Lights Summer Theatre School. I want to briefly reflect further on my experience of ‘creativity’. (Read ‘Creativity in Community’ post)

I tried, whilst in Folkestone last week, to get some writing done for my ‘god of the gods’ book. As I sat down to write out some of my theories on what it means to be ‘christian’, I clammed up. I got writer’s block.

I have experienced writer’s block before but this time was different. Before, the sensation was one of not having anything to say. The mind goes blank and you have no original thought to express. You are acutely aware that your mind is currently just ticking along with nothing of any great worth going on. This is difficult, particularly when there is a pressure to produce or be creative, either from an internal or external source.

This time, however, there was a different sensation, one where I had lots of things to say but no way of expressing them. I could, if asked, talk on the topic for a long time and draw all the sources I needed to express what was going on in my head. Instead, I just sat there,

“Where do I begin? How do I say…?”

I tried writing everything out in mind map. I tried speaking ideas into a dictaphone. I tried asking questions in a philosophical argument structuring way. I thought about how I write blogs, sermons and other creative writing exercises and then it occurred to me…

I had forgotten how to do it.

It seemed that, having stopped being creative, I actually stopped being able to be creative.

Creativity, for me, is participation in the life of God. Is everyone creative? No. Is that because they can’t be? No. It’s because they choose not to be. I don’t mean this in a condemnatory manner. Creativity is available to us all, i.e. the life of God is available to us all and some choose to participate and others don’t.

Creativity can borrow language of faith here. If you choose not to participate in a relationship with God you will discover that you can’t relate to God. You will find it difficult to understand any possibility of having a relationship with God. This then becomes your barrier to having that relationship with God which was available to you before. You then begin to say “I can’t have a relationship with God” as if it was a question of logic. I would say that anyone can have a relationship with God but some don’t want to and choose not to. So instead of saying “I can’t” (which I believe to be a fallacy) one can only say “I don’t want to/ choose not to.”

No one can say “I can’t be creative.” The perception is too timeless for it to be correct. You may not be able to be creative now but you can be creative because you are human and creativity is a possibility for all. You choose not to be creative and so it is difficult for you to see you being creative, you have forgotten how to be creative.

Trying to stay on track before I spurt out all my dissertation research…

Creativity, like a relationship with God, is made possible via a choice. This choice opens up both a growth in a competency as you allow the ‘creative power’ to move you and a transformation in self perception as you allow the process of creativity to impact your view of yourself from ‘non-creative’ to ‘creative’. We are correct when we say “I am not creative” but the understanding of what that term means is wrong. Ontologically we are not creative; we are but dust. We are able to participate in creative acts, however, and so, in the world’s eyes’, we can ‘be creative’.

What I experienced was a forgetting of how to be creative. I could have started to believe I was incapable of being creative. This would have led to a death to that which excites me and brings a sense of life to me. Creativity is, at its most profound, the participation in life. Not existence but life. Life as the quickening of the heart, the discovery of purpose, the eyes opening to dazzling beauty. The truth is many have forgotten how to participate in life and they believe this is not available to them. I believe they have just forgotten.

As a Christian I see participation in creativity as the same thing as my participation in God. For Creativity gives me life and the product of that creative process seems to give life to others. The fruits of creativity inspire others to participate in creativity. Many feel they cannot move beyond the desire to participate because they ‘can’t’.

You can and you must.

In The Minster (part IV)

I was in marketing for five years but wanted to do something away from computer screens.

After the decision to find her vocation Vic started her training which began with a residential course which gave her an academic foundation for her work. After two years she was placed in an apprentice scheme which enabled her to put into practice the theory of her previous study.

Those first few months were both exciting and scary. The work demanded so much of me; physically and emotionally… It highlighted my weaknesses and that’s always frustrating but slowly I grew stronger and more confident of my capabilities.

Vic now stands at the top of the East Window of York Minster painstakingly restoring old, decayed stones and sometimes replacing the ones who have ‘passed on’ with new, fresh ones. She washes stones that have been mistreated by past conservers and lovingly restoring stones left to the elements.

The truth is the similarities in the training of stone masons and of clergy is by no means the end of the parallels. I was struck as I walked round the workshops how much the two vocations speak to each other. The attitude and commitment towards their work, the holistic impact the work has on the person and the humility developed by working in a tradition established over centuries and the call to play a part in building the legacy further, all map one onto the other.

I want to acknowledge first the clear connections between working with the Tadcaster stone in restoring a building like the Minster and working with the ‘living stones’ that make up the Church of God. I want to briefly highlight the loving care that a stone mason takes over one stone to make it sing with beauty and the call for us as ministers to spend time in helping a child of God sing of God’s beauty in them. All these connections are wonderful and amazing but I want to hone in on the masons themselves.

Dave showed me round the Stoneyard with a quiet and generous spirit. He took me to meet John, a man who has worked for 30 years with the Minster. He knows this building, its history, its quirks. He can predict the anomalies in the design before anyone else. He can tell, from looking at a stone whether it is an original or a stone from one of the many restorations over its long history (and which restoration it’s from!) When I asked him,

So, you must be something of an expert of the building?

I don’t feel like one. Every day I learn something more about the building. In some sense I’m always an apprentice.

What a beautiful sentiment. Even those who have worked for so long in building the Church should understand themselves always as an apprentice.

Dave then took me down to look at the untouched stone which will soon be prepared to go into the colossal building over the road. He told me about yellow veins. The yellow veins are the places where the rock hasn’t bonded together in the ground. One strike of a chisel and the whole piece will break into two. He took me into his workshop and showed me one stone that he has been carving for six weeks.

At anytime I could come across a yellow vein. I won’t know until it’s too late.

Six weeks work could come to nothing as the rock gives up and breaks.

It really humbles you. Every chip has the excitement and fear. Could this be the time it breaks… You’re no longer in control.

There’s no amount of technical training that will develop Dave into a mason who will never find a yellow vein in his work. He can learn all things and still be at the mercy of the complex and hidden forces that have got that piece of rock to that place at that time. There’s an element of trust on something that is beyond him.

He showed me the plans of that stone. A necessarily detailed design which he needed to follow to the letter or the building would be unstable because of that one stone. I asked him about the sense of connection with the masons of the past who carved the original design in the stone.

I’m just one mason in a long line of masons who have been involved in this building. It’s like they speak to us through the stones. It’s hard to explain… I can look at a stone in the Cathedral and get a sense of what that individual mason was feeling or what kind of day he may have been having when he carved his stone. We’re connected over the centuries… in a way.

I guess that makes your work seem dauntingly important.

I asked.

Yes to know that in centuries time some mason of the future looks at this stone I’m carving now and can tell so much about how I approached the stone. Makes you think about your attitude to the work, kind of calming yourself down before picking up your tools.

As a future member of a priesthood given the authority and responsibility of Holy Orders, I too will be joining a long line of priests who have gone before me. The difference for me as a priest is my legacy won’t be as tangible as Dave’s. That connection with tradition, however, does help me appreciate the need to prepare every time I minister to God’s people, for my attitude will affect how that ‘stone’ is, in response to my care.

I was then shown into the carver’s workshop. Here is where the intricate detailing is done. The two men stopped their work and asked me lots of questions about my training. After each stage was described they nodded and exclaimed,

That’s just like us.

They are clearly excited about the connections between their work on the outside and the work of the clergy inside the building. I asked them whether the Stoneyard is like a family.

Yes with all the family issues. We have rows.

Dave chipped in,

One of the masons, Les, is ill at the moment and we all take it in turns to visit him and help each other out to cover his work.

The problems usually occur when someone has an opinion about how you should handle a particular stone. But if you just concentrate on the stone you’ve been given responsibility for then we all support each other. Does that make sense?

How we as a Church could learn from that sentiment. As a parish priest I will be given responsibility and care for a small section of the Kingdom. We enter into disputes when everyone steps above their station and takes on the role of oversight of the whole building too soon. There’s a call to trust in those in authority knowing that it’s, by far the most difficult jobs. I witnessed that in Synod early this week; so many members, given half a chance, want to tell fellow workers how they should and shouldn’t treat their stones. The ‘masons’ questioning those who have been given the difficult task of keeping track of the meta-narrative and in a way taking their eyes off their stone. I remember John, up in the studio, pawing over the plans of the whole building knowing each stone but in relation to the much bigger building. Being responsible for the task of making sure the individual aspects fit together cohesively and will stand the test of time; entrusting the detailed work to the masons. I remember his humility and gentleness as to how he holds his responsibility. It reminded me of ++Rowan Williams.

Any final reflections that will help me get a sense of your work?

I asked.

We find it important to know that it’s no one person’s building… it’s everyone’s building.

Dave then took me to Vic, who I spoke of before. She took me up the scaffolding to the top of the largest window in Europe (I think!) She showed me the work they had done on one of the spires; beautifully carved and crafted work. Then she showed me the window itself and, again, the intricate detail that the masons of the original Cathedral had created. Then it struck me; the masons work on painstakingly carving the intricate detail would never be seen by those hundred feet down. The only people who may see that six or seven weeks of work would be themselves and, potentially, future restorers (and, of course, God Himself). The extravagance of the craft!

As a man called to participate in the building up of His Church I must remember the extravagant, secret and private work of the diaconal priest. I guess I want to end on the reading of yesterday from John’s gospel.

The story of Jesus washing the disciple’s feet has become the story of the diaconal order. What does this story say to my role as a deacon? The work of cleaning the dirt from people’s feet is a work done away from the crowds in a private space. The cleaning of the dirt is a necessary work. It’s a work that requires humility of the one washing but also vulnerability of the one being washed.

It is necessary and it is a privilege to see the fragile, stone behind the layers of corruption and decay and to be called to restore them and make them sing!

In The Minster (part III)

So what’s the point of cathedrals?

The more time I spend looking at Cathedrals, their communication and mission activity, the more I am convinced that they play the most significant part of our evangelism. It is interesting to me that these archaic, monuments to the past hold the potential key to our future.

I have worked closely with Durham Cathedral and now York Minster and have asked the question “How do we create in the heritage tourists a desire for faith tourism?” Millions of people visit our Cathedrals each year as historical monuments; they enter into a building used for worship, without us awkwardly befriending them and trying to time our invitation to come along. They come, almost, at their own volition and ask questions of the space, experience whatever is there. This is an enormous opportunity if only we could translate and interpret the space effectively.

As part of my placement in the Minster I have explored the ‘York Minster Revealed’ project being undertaken by Lottery Heritage Funding and the Dean and Chapter of the Minster. The idea is to invest millions of pounds into this heritage site to encourage more visitors to the Minster and, therefore, to the city itself. This may come across, to some, as selling out but I believe is a great mission opportunity and, I have to say, reading the Interpretation Plan, is clearly aimed at guiding people to experience the living, growing, life affirming faith and the God for whom the whole space is offered to in praise and worship each day.

Back in Durham, I am privileged to be a part of a team of ordinands who inhabit the Cathedral space there once a month. Our aim is to frame the space so that people can explore and encounter God there. We try and minimise the heritage signage, taking out donation boxes, stripping back to the walls and to the history of prayer soaked into the building. The atmosphere of the place is different for a number of reasons from the day time trade of tour buses and historical interest groups to the silent, meditative pilgrims encountering God in powerful ways in the evening. None of these reasons seem to sum up exactly what that difference is but the attitude in which people explore the space helps them to worship and pray for themselves.

Here in York, they have really simplified, as much as possible, and kept signage out of the space. Part of the Interpretation Plan is to use digital media such as Augmented Reality and QR Codes to inform people without layering it, physically, onto the building. This will help to keep the building as place of worship for the regular congregation. This will allow people to experience the space separated from the noise of the factual past and free them to experience the prayer and spiritual past and present.

In a conversation with the team who look after the heritage side of the Minster’s work it is clear that their aim is to use the building to tell the story not just of the past but the continuing life of the Minster as a community of worshippers.

I don’t care why they come but I do care that they leave knowing why they came.

An interesting idea which, I’m sure is shared by many missional leaders in parishes across the country. How do we use our heritage and history not to keep people thinking we’re past it but that we are present and we have an exciting future?

The undeniable truth is that Cathedrals get visitors! Parish churches struggle. Why? Well, Cathedrals dominate the skyline for one but they also have a clear story. I visit numerous heritage sites and love them. I judge them, not on their size but on the stories they tell. Warkworth Castle in Northumbria has no roof, very little walls and no guides but it tells a great story and has tried to tell it in interesting ways. Our parish Churches have stories or links to stories. We need to become more competent and confident to tell the story of the spaces we use for worship.

Take the parish church in Croxdale, County Durham. I did a placement there and visited the church of St Bartholomew’s. Still an active church but there’s an atmosphere about the place that is dark and cold. This has no relation to the community that worships there. The space is silenced by a whole number of things. During my time there I learnt that there was a community artist working in the hall next door. She rented that space from the church to use as a workshop and teaching space. I requested a meeting with her and suggested using the church as a gallery for local artists (who are currently struggling to find places to exhibit their work). This needs fleshing out but the potential to resurrect such a dark space into one of life and art and inspiration would lead, surely, to a reinvigorated life of faith.

Cathedrals don’t need to advertise more to get people into their worship buildings but they can work harder at translating the space from a heritage site to a place of encounter with the living God. The data informs us that people stay for services in York Minster and these events greatly change the whole experience of their visit. The realisation, surely, that this is not a static, dying building but one that grows and lives! Add into the visit Twitterfalls to help people communicate for the Cathedral unplanned, new, exciting discoveries as they happen to other visitors and suddenly the tourists become the guides and, who knows, the evangelists telling anyone connected to the Twitter conversation that they have encountered God in the Quire, Nave, Crypt, where-ever!

The thing I’ll take away from my time here in York is a sense of my passion and love of Cathedral mission. This is not an old building which needs to be sold but the greatest resource for communicating an historical faith alive and well in the heart of all our cities. Jonathan Draper and his team of ‘interpreters’ are passionate people naturally connected to millions of people each year all of whom are potential witnesses to the powerful love of God!

Let’s dig down deep and root ourselves in our past so that we see growth in the present and be a towering strength of hope in the future!

In The Minster (part II)

They all gather in the locker room, their kits hung ready for the event. The banter flies freely and the regular rituals begin. Theirs positioning, roles and tactics are explained and they prepare themselves to go out and ‘perform’…
I am talking, of course, of the scenes before a service at York Minster!

From my privileged position as placement student (or ‘interloper’, ‘apprentice’, ‘dogs-body’ and any other term to use to describe my temporary role at the Minster) I have watched the daily routine of services with the usual processionary positioning, reading allocations and general choreography. All of which have a more than fleeting similarity to those of a football match, except there’s no ‘opposition’! I can’t seem to fully sign up with the need for such detail and the rubrics (the written guides for how worship may be done.) I understand the need for order and guidelines to stop worship and public expressions of faith becoming sloppy and incoherent, ‘un-Common Worship’ would divide rather than bring some gravitational unity. What is sometimes communicated, however, is that legislation is keeping some people in positions of glory and power who should be the symbol of humility.

Take the interesting issue of having specific seats marked for Canons in the Cathedral (at the heights overlooking the congregation.) What could be communicated is they get reserved seating because they are important. Immediately the Scripture

‘…do not sit down in a place of honour… but when you are invited, take the lowest place’ (Luke 14:8,10)

I understand and can appreciate the many facets of this issue; what are the places of honour and how are they distinguished? The seats are at the back and not the front, for example. I am aware of the need for those members of the community to have a sense of ‘home’ in the place of prayer; to not be distracted in prayer by the interest on who’s sat where. It may come down to the way a position is treated and understood. The seat marked ‘Dean’ is seen as, perhaps, the best seat because it is designated for the Dean, a perceived position of power. When the Dean sits there (most services because it’s his ‘church’) people see that as him sitting in the position of power but actually people are judging the role and not the position.

This is particularly interesting when you consider the ‘role’ of priest within a congregation.

As many regular readers will know I have a both a high view of priesthood (sacramentally) but a low view of individual ‘leadership’. My time here at York Minster has helped me to articulate the exact call on me to be a ‘priest’. I have had for a long time a need to reject the ‘leader’ title because I don’t see that call in the New Testament nor the benefits of designating one person to decide and direct a group of people. What is communicated in leadership manuals and guides is a leader who is coming up with ideas and influencing people’s decisions. The language is slippery and falls into dubious responses to collaboration. I want more clarity in our use of leadership language.

For me a good ‘leader’ is a faithful ‘follower’. Jesus has called me to be a disciple and a servant of people. A servant rarely speaks to their master in a dominating manner, demanding their views to be heard; they may be asked for opinion but they are not there to offer it, necessarily. How do we exercise wise counsel in a radical flat leadership style?

Take the practical example of the chapter here at York Minster. The chapter is the governing body of the cathedral and is made up of clergy, administrative staff and laity. It is the chapter who make the decisions on how the cathedral is run and what responses or activities to make and engage with. The Dean is the ‘leader’ of the chapter. What may be inferred by this is that he is in charge; he makes decisions and holds the power. The impression I get and what I’ve been told by members of the chapter is that he is one among equals. His seat in the Chapter House is deliberately not central; it is not different from any of the other seats there. He is not positioned in a favourable place to ensure he is the focus. He has no deciding vote on issues. When I described this impression to his wife she immediately said, “But the buck ends with him!”

This is essential to my understanding of priestly leadership (if such a term could be coined!) A priest is an ambassador for Christ; someone who, by their life and discipleship calls the people of God to be Christ-like as they are Christ-like. Christ was a servant who lead as a servant. This radical and baffling paradox is perfectly shown in His journey to the cross. Christ followed the will of those he served to death. John’s prologue speaks of His people not accepting Him and nailing Him to the cross. Christ took the consequences of the decisions made by His people even if He may not, individually, have wanted Himself. We’re discussing issues of willingness to be crucified and I want to emphasise Christ was willing to do it because He was committed to being lead by the actions of His people, whatever form that takes.

Let me de-theologise this and use a hypothetical situation in a hypothetical chapter with a hypothetical Dean. This Dean is sat in a chapter meeting and a decision needs to be made about disruptive members of the community in worship. The Dean, personally thinks they should remain and not be abandoned. The chapter are tired of trying to deal with the disruptive member and wants them to pass them onto a parish church. The Dean knows that if they reject this member of the congregation that the press, the community and the local people will be very upset and angry. The vote is taken and the chapter votes majoritively to sensitively send the member elsewhere.

The Dean, as figure-head and spokesperson of the chapter, communicates this decision to the public despite him, personally, believing there’s another way. He, as figurehead and spokesperson of the chapter, also commits himself to suffer the consequences of that chosen action; taking the brunt of the ‘backlash’ on himself. Is this not a sacrificial act of servanthood? Is this not part of priestly ministry? To be a priestly leader is to be nothing more than a spokesperson and figurehead of a community.

This is not to say that as a priestly leader you do not state an opinion nor hold a position on matters but to follow Christ before the need to lead in a traditional sense is to die to your own opinion to serve others. This is painful and uncomfortable but it is this model of leadership that is being called upon us as disciples of Christ. No wonder Paul warns those who have positions of ‘authority’. This is the distinguishing mark, for me, from secular leadership.

So back to the Minster and positions of power!

The Dean, the canons and, for a time, I will sit in the places designated to us for a whole range of reasons, some good and some bad. It does not matter where we sit, however, but rather the attitude and the manner in which we sit there. A position of power must be held by someone but it can and should be held by someone who seeks always to take the consequences of actions made by that role before the need to exert influence from it.

This has wider implications on how I see myself as a future priest but I have taken up too much time already! Must go and reflect on Archbishop Rowan Williams address to Synod which I believe covers lots of these issues and more on how we speak of ‘church’. I’ll try and link it more with theatre as this blogs remit is straying too much from that passion!

In The Minster (part I)

At the end of day two of my placement at York Minster there seems to be one big question running through my head and the conversations I’ve been having; “What’s the difference between Cathedral ministry and parish ministry?”

Canon Glyn Webster describes his role at the Minster as “The Parish Priest of the community” despite the Minster not being a ‘parish’. He sees his role as overseeing the pastoral needs of those who work and worship in the hallowed Gothic building in the centre of York. The staff here are amazed (and glad to tell me) that the Minster congregation is growing. Early morning Matins and Evensong every day and all Sunday services have increased their regular number over the last decade or so. This has not surprised me. Having spent the last two years working with Durham Cathedral and listening to many who work in Cathedrals across the country, this trend is shared by most of the Cathedrals. Why is this?

I had a very encouraging conversation with an ex arch-deacon of Cleveland, Ron Woodley today. He spoke passionately about parochial ministry and encouraged me by stating that “It’s the greatest life you’ll ever live. It’s hard but on balance I have never known of a more joyful life!” What a ringing endorsement from someone who had 40 years of active ministry. In the midst of our conversation he said something that rang true and has been helpful in my reflections. He suggested the difference between parish ministry and the ministry of the Cathedral is the Cathedral offers worshippers anonymity where parish life doesn’t.

I believe that to be true but is that a benefit or problem?

I have no doubt that there is a strong sense of community here in the Minster. I sat through a very touching funeral of a staff member and the sense of community was palpable. The packed quire at both the funeral service and at Evensong last night speaks of a committed worshipping community. During the worship, however, you just fade into the milieu of faces. I, personally, love that. I am not important to be individually picked out but I am just one, tiny speck, in a sea of people all worshipping and praising the almighty God.

In parishes, I have experienced a cry to ensure everyone is welcomed and identified and spoken to and acknowledged. This is very important if people are to feel part of a community. Too often we become insular and cliquey isolating and rejecting the new-comer. The sign of peace is a time to speak to and individually welcome each member of the community into worship. There is no anonymity. People want to and need to talk to you, know how you are, who you are before worshipping. There is no fading into the background and having time with God.

Here is the strange paradox; In order to have a personal moment with God, un-hindered by the concern that people might be looking at you, you need to fade into the sea of people. But to make people feel part of the sea of people we feel the need to personally meet and greet each person.

I find it interesting that Cathedral congregations are growing. Is it because that anonymity is important? That sense of a private experience in the protection of the mass of people is an aspect of our culture at the moment, is it not? In the development of evangelism of the last couple of hundred years we have seen a journey from up the front delivery to conversational, didactic forms of evangelism. The issue we face at the moment is no one even wants to ask the questions or engage in conversation. Many people have researched and studied the trends and we find ourselves in a culture that no longer asks questions of faith. I’m not saying that the Alpha model of evangelism, answering the questions of life, is outmoded but the research shows that it is increasingly difficult to get people wanting to even go to the meal!

What Cathedral worship offers which parish ministry doesn’t nor shouldn’t offer is the chance of a private, personal, surprise encounter with God. This may well lead onto the need for Alpha or any conversation with people of faith.

We have been trying to wrestle with this in our ‘Fresh Expression’ in Durham Cathedral (UR32B.wordpress.com). At the heart of this service is the desire to encounter God in the space; un-intrusive, anonymous, private encounters. We have struggled with the issue of how we create community with people who only want to experience God privately and not in community. How do you establish a Eucharistic community in this individualistic environment?

I’m not sure I can, yet, answer that question but what I can say is I believe that this anonymity in worship is what many unchurched people would be happy with rather than being thrust into a gathering where everybody knows everyone else and you are clearly the ‘stranger’; where in the worship you feel judged and on display. Where you are so busy worrying that you do and say the right thing that you don’t have the chance to experience something transcendent.

Cathedral worship allows you to ease into an experience of God whilst, at the same time, being part of a big group of people, all experiencing the same thing as you. Although nothing is said or physical contact made you still feel a huge sense of a united community, sharing the spiritual realm.

It is this truth that seems to be resonating for me at the moment in my last couple of posts. So I pray that as I continue on this placement that God will bring more revelations that will help me to articulate these thoughts!

MediaLit (part III)

Digital ‘space’?

In our final session on our final day at the MediaLit Conference we began a massive conversation with Prof. David Wilkinson. Although his seminar was on Theology and Apologetics it led to a heated debate about whether we can call the internet a ‘space’. We often use language of inhabitation of the internet leading to the image of a space in which to exist. Andrew Graystone, Director of the Churches Media Council, tried to helpful distinguish between digital ‘space’ and digital ‘environment’. He has stopped using the term ‘space’ as it leads to the confusion, but digital environment confuses me! How do I relate to environments? What is the analogy that will help in my understanding?

This discussion lead me to ask questions of the nature of ‘space’.

Earlier in the week we discussed online Eucharist. This is an online experience where people, inhabiting separate spaces join together through the digital media and share in the sacrament of Communion. This unsettled me from the start! Partly because one example was given that people broke their own, individual piece of bread, in their separate spaces. How our individualistic culture has even impacted the communal experience of faith!

Before anyone begins the discussion of physical restrictions on parts of our society through medical or circumstantial issues, I want to stress that I appreciate the complexities some people face trying to belong to a sacramental community. Allergies, Fears, Mobility; all of these shut down any possibility for some people to get to a certain space at a certain time to feel they belong and can participate in the life of a community. But there are big issues here!

Two main points to raise in the limited space and time I have had to reflect on this. One of them, interestingly, is about space and time.

To be ‘present’. What do we mean by present? To answer that I should ask it in a different way; what do we mean by ‘absence’? Absence is the state of being away from a place or person. In this definition absence is marked by spatial measurements, is it not? Let’s not begin to deconstruct it (at the moment at least) into the emotional absence of a person but let us affirm the shared idea that if I am not in the same geographical area as you I am absent. To be present, therefore, is, in some way, to share the same geographical location. This is a traditional understanding of the term. The problem arises when we try to experience ‘presence’ through digital media. Can this experience ever be achieved if people are separated by geographical locations?

In MediaLit (part II) we explored the idea that, through prayer we can become a community which is not defined by shared geographical space. This issue is compromised if we extend the same definitions into the sacramental act. My theological assumptions come into play here so I will state them clearly. I believe in the presence of Christ, particularly during the sacramental act. This presence is based on both a temporal aspect (i.e. He shares the time in which we exist) and spatial (i.e. He shares the space in which we exist.) Having said that, however, I begin to question what I mean by that. When we claim ‘His Spirit is with us.’ in the liturgy what are we proclaiming? That His Spirit exists in the same spatial reality as us? The truth of the incarnation ‘complexifies’ this by suggesting that God does not compete in space with us…

The Sacraments are both communal and reality changing. Reality is measured both in time and space. In order to change reality it must change both of these aspects. Christ must be present both in time and in space. This can still be affirmed within the context of the solo Eucharist. The communal aspect of the sacrament is important here. We are brought together, through the Eucharist, into the Body of Christ. What does this mean? Maybe I could be bold in suggesting that, He is present because we are present. I mean this in its widest possible way! Your physical presence changes the reality of the whole community and, likewise, the presence of the community changes your reality. Christ is spatial present through the Holy Spirit in the community, gathered in the same time and space (reality).

If we take out the spatial aspect of the Eucharist do we remove, in some way, the ability of reality to be fully changed ?

The second point I want to reflect on is the role that affirmation of self plays within the sacraments. I have begun to write a chapter on the need in community to affirm self-expressions by adopting them into communal-expressions (i.e. the expression of who/what the community is.) Our culture has reduced self-expression down to whatever you think or feel is truly authentic to you. This is impossible,

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. (Christopher Jamison, Finding Sanctuary)

Community is necessary in self-expression. This is, like a lot of aspects of community, both a potential blessing and a potential abuse.

Sacraments are communal events because any self-expression of faith needs to be affirmed by a community of others. This is highlighted in Stephen Hawking and Leonard Mlodinow’s latest book ‘A Grand Design’. where they suggest particles only have definition if they are observed where as the unobserved past is full of possibilities. It is the observation of reality that gives it definition. This has huge implications to the sacramental changes in reality.

I am suddenly aware of the hugeness of this issue. I don’t envy Dr. Pete Phillips as he discusses this at Methodist Conference later next week. I wonder if anyone is discussing it in the Anglican church?

MediaLit (part II)

Prayer.

As I prepared the Morning Prayer for yesterday’s MediaLit Conference I immediately decided to use the Northumbria Community’s liturgy. I was struck by the dilemma I faced; do I use the readings and meditations set down for the Community or do I choose ones that would lead people to reflect on our unique setting of the Conference? I thought about what readings would be appropriate and then it struck me. The monastic life is a reflection on social media, connectedness, communication and shared ethereal life which is not based on geographic location.
I chose to use the readings of the community and asked the gathered group, in the geographical location of that chapel, to hold in their minds that there are people across the country sitting in different places sharing our prayers and engaging with the same Scripture. This community (local) was being connected to a community (wider) through the means of a ‘media’; prayer.

What a lot of questions are rushing into my mind as I write that! Is it prayer or shared life, shared intentions, shared focus? ‘Shared’… Community is about gathering around that which is common to those people; the shared. Is this inclusive or exclusive? Probably both!

The internet and all forms of social media and broadcast media are open shared space. Anyone can access it (if they have the portal and desire to) it becomes impossible to police and to articulate the commonality. Can the internet hold a common principle? Is the internet community if there is not a commonality apart from the inhabitation of the same space?

But before we continue down this argument to end on the great proclamation that the internet is not ‘community’ let’s ask the question; Does shared prayers mean ‘shared’? or to put it another way; Can prayers ever be shared?

The Northumbria Community is a disparate community joined together by the Rule of life and the liturgical rhythm of prayer. The Rule of life consists of principles not prescriptive but more like a lens through which can guide you to ethical and relational decisions. The nature of the Rule, based around questions, allows for multiplicity of thought and articulation but the commitment to shared approaches and intention.

I wonder if we could discover something of the same within the internet.

The Early Church was made up of many expressions of faith connected by many things; apostles’ teachings, written communications through communication routes and a shared intention and approach to life. What is our ‘teaching’? How do we use communication routes to connect? and do we have shared intention and approach? And, I guess the caveat question is, do we need any of these?

We finished that same day with a prayer activity where we linked our prayers together visually with the use of wool. One person would say a prayer and throw the ball of wool to another. This created a web of the wool. Again the questions come; did I share all the prayers? Was that the point? What do we mean when we talk about being connected in prayer?

After all this I can be assured that the same problems surrounded the monastic life and the Early Church that face us now in how we connect whilst not sharing geographical location.

MediaLit (part I)

Fear.

As I sit in MediaLit Conference this week I’m becoming acutely aware of the many fears that impact all of our responses to new ideas, new people, new aspect of people, the list goes on. Some are implicit whilst others are explicit. For all the new information, tools and concepts that are being introduced the moments of real revelation have been, for me, the times of acknowledgement of fear.

I can’t speak for the other delegates present but I’m happy to say, “I’m afraid.”

Christ proclaims, “Do not be afraid!” and I want to not fear but I do, at times. It’s good to acknowledge my restricted view of life and the fear that surrounds my thoughts, actions and words. So there are two questions; “What am I afraid of?” and “What am I afraid for?” I am afraid of facing upto my finiteness. I am afraid of being found out as a fraud, a liar, a selection of contradictory images that don’t hold together. I am afraid that I may be actually be the fool that I desire to be. I am afraid that my prayers and desires are actually being answered and I may actually have to face the pain of transformation.
What am I afraid for? Here’s the difficult question. Fear is a defence mechanism to protect us from harm. At times this may be irrational or even unfounded but the consume us. Should we rush into all that is fearful? Many radicals would say “yes.” I’m inclined, as a wannabe radical to agree with them but I have caution in saying so (another fear!)

I think that I am afraid in order that I acknowledge God and my doubts of Him. The fear of God is my greatest fear. I am, above all, afraid that God may in fact be real and He is in control and I’m not. God may actually have His way which so often contradicts mine. I am afraid in order that He reveals Himself. So why does He repeatedly proclaim “Do not be afraid.”?

God commands this after His revelation. one could suggest that thing that we should not be afraid of is God Himself. This, therefore, suggests that it is possible to fear God and that it is after God is revealed and acknowledged that God settles those fears.

What am I afraid for? To have God revealed as that which is to be feared above all things in order that I can acknowledge and relate with Him and then He will settle my fears.

Monasticism and Asceticism (part III)

The previous year I spent the night reading the book of Isaiah, from chapter 1 verse 1 to its climactic finish in chapter 66 verse 24. Afterwards I read the book of Acts, went to an early morning prayer meeting then onto a the Quiet Day on Holy Island to read Peter Brook on Artaud. This year myself and TMBI (Monastic Ball of Intensity) decided to do a night of Psalms. We would start the evening by doing Compline and read every Psalm through the night interspersing them with prayers of Cuthbert. Having been inspired by the Northumbria Community recently I used the Compline for the day (Tuesday) which happened to be a compline in dedicated to St Cuthbert…this was apt!

There were four, barefoot men who took it in turns to read all 150 Psalms; some softly, others shouted. What struck me as I spoke out prayers, laments, praises and sorrows was how quickly the tone changes in the Psalms, one moment you’re proclaiming the love and grace of God the other you’re stating that God has left you.

The other interesting thing I discovered was there were several times when I didn’t connect, personally, with the prayers of the Psalmist. I wasn’t sure where I was spiritually or emotionally as I went into this vigil but I found myself expressing things and thinking “I don’t really feel this right now.” However, the more I tried to inhabit the Psalm the more I felt the pain or joy or whatever emotion drove the particular psalm. Reading them and inhabiting the prayers gave me an opportunity to develop emotional memory. I have never feared for my life like the psalmists have but by placing myself in their position and delving into their emotional prayers I was able to empathize with them. As the night went on I began to really connect with the sentiments and human experiences painted throughout this collection of songs.

When we got to the final 4 chapters at 3.30am the four of us stood around the Bible by candlelight, watching the light begin to appear behind the stained glass window of depicting the crucified Christ.

Praise the LORD. Praise the LORD, O my soul.

As the praises built to their exultant crescendo, our voices raised to hoarse shouts as we all battled to shout louder than the others. The incense had filled the chapel, the candles’ smoke licked the air and we stood, four disciples praising God, cold, tired but joyful.

We left in the early morning light and walked home together discussing what we had experienced. Some common phrases came through for us. One was The Message’s translation of ‘his steadfast love endures forever.’

His love never quits!

Despite all the isolation, rejection we may feel from God ‘His love never quits.’ What remained for me, though, was how the prayers continually asked for mercy to be shown to us who have strayed or made mistakes and how quickly the psalmists pray that God shows no mercy to our enemies. I still find it difficult to pray that our enemies’ children’s skulls get smashed against the rock! As I arrived home I realized that the Psalms articulate every human emotion even vengeance, this doesn’t mean that God will answer those prayers but He will allow us to state them and for us to feel them because as soon as the psalmists pray for destruction on their enemies they soon realize that they themselves are also corrupt and deserve punishment and so the mercy shown to them is to be shown to all who are corrupt and,

Who is blameless before the LORD?

Sarah, not expecting me home, had left her key in our front door and I didn’t want to wake her up (I was also very tired and not thinking logically) so I decided to have a nap in our car. This was a bad mistake! I woke after a disturbed nap of an hour and rang our house phone (Sarah had turned her mobile off!) I was cold… really cold. I slipped into our bed shivering and with muscle spasms.

I woke again an hour later and got up to walk back into college to tidy up and prepare for the Quiet Day away.

When we got to Holy Island we were led through The Northumbria Community’s Morning Prayer and were re-introduced to Cuthbert and Aidan. I had spent the night with the memory of St Cuthbert but really felt called to walk this day with Aidan.

St. Aidan was called to Nortumbria by King Oswald after a failed mission trip by another missionary. Aidan became a popular and much loved Bishop because he focussed on relationship and meeting people where they were. Aidan was more of a missionary than a hermit but lived a life of balance; using his times alone to fuel his times with others. His life and prayers have been, in recent weeks, sources of great encouragement and inspiration.

I sat for some time on Cuthbert’s Island, the screams of the seals absent, staring at the mainland. I was struck, again, by the gulf of sea separating me from the millions of people living their life in England. I felt torn. Spiritually do I want to sit here, isolated and alone praying and ensuring my own house is sorted before heading out? Or do I cross the gulf and live amongst people? Aidan’s prayer (see Monasticism and Asceticism (appendix i) post) helped me to reflect on this. and again the psalms came to mind. I am a worm, nothing, but God’s steadfast love endures forever. There are times when people do my head in and I want everyone to leave me alone, stop demanding so much from me and give me space to be but as I pray for ‘justice’ and punishment to be brought upon them I remember that His love never quits!