Tag Archives: Durham

Chapter 61: reception of pilgrim monks

cropped-color-calgary-header-3

A stranger from a distant locale may be received as a guest for as long as he desires providing he does not make unreasonable demands but accepts the ways of the brothers and is satisfied.

Where is the sacrifice?

A friend of mine has recently done some research on theological education in the UK. The research aimed to uncover the reasons behind a person’s selection of one theological training institution over another. My friend has not finished writing up the findings but they were struck by how the primary motivation for selection was personal preference.

That may not seem, on the face of it, a shock,

Of course, it’s down to their personal preference!

Personal preference always plays some part in any decision but when this is the primary reason we may be in trouble. Personal preference is now outranking God’s call along with the potential cost that that call may have on one’s life. The responses may well assume that ‘personal preference’ means God’s will but that is even more dangerous and leads me to some thing I’d like to briefly explore again.

Our current culture is so individualised that we have again committed the heresy of assuming too much that God is made in our image and not the other way round. Every generation is tempted to commit this error in different ways; ours has fallen for it in the way we interpret Scripture and discern the will of God. In our heady mix of neoliberalism and libertarian morals alongside the deeply ingrained consumerism we have arrived at the place where our primary authority in discernment is personal, private emotions.

I know God and He loves me just the way I am and He wants me to be happy. He’s not clearly saying “no” to this behaviour and it makes me happy so it must be ok.

This subjective authority is of no use in a functioning society. Yes, the heart is important but, as Jesus himself said,

”For it is from within, from the human heart, that evil intentions come: fornication, theft, murder, adultery, avarice, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy, slander, pride, folly. All these evil things come from within, and they defile a person.” (Mark 7:21-23)

We are capable of great love but we are also capable of great evil and discerning the two is not as easy as we assume. Love can be contaminated with these evil intentions. We have this arrogance to think that we know what love is but we limit it and we make out it is easy to love. Jesus showed us that great love has a great cost and the way to be like Jesus is narrow.

Where is the talk of radical, costly discipleship? Where is the conversation about the narrow road, the immediately exclusive way in Jesus spoke about this path of transformation? Consumer culture has infected Christ’s body and we need to deal with it. God can easily be thought of as blessing us with everything we want and our faith crumbles when things don’t go our way. We act however we like and we all search the Bible to justify our actions. We freely choose to behave in ways that seem perfectly reasonable and we judge them to be right by the happiness factor.

In a very banal way, consider church hopping.

I’m not against searching out a local congregation that will feed and encourage us. The style of worship has a part to play in whether you are called there, as is theological roots and tradition. You don’t want to be in a place where you are always frustrated and tempted to moan and grumble about that group of people. This desire to fit in though must be held in tension with God’s work in you.

I chose to go to Cranmer Hall in Durham not primarily because the people were nice, or it was closer to family but primarily because I felt God calling me to train in the difficult, urban communities of working class people very different from my experience. I visited Ridley Hall in Cambridge and it was great. I could have trained there and I would have learnt a lot and would have loved the people I trained with but the swinging factor was I felt God asking me to step out of my comfort zone and stretch myself. That was scary but my wife and I trusted that God would grow and change us and ultimately surprise us with what he can do through us.

I feel God is challenging His Church to readdress the question of commitment. I think there is a great move of the Spirit towards an acknowledgement of ‘costly grace’ and I don’t think any of us really knows what that looks or feels like but I can assure you that it won’t be comfortable.

Rowan Williams, in his book ‘The Wound of Knowledge’, says,

Humanity is created in God’s image – created with the capacity for relationship to God in obedience: its fulfilment is in this relationship…But the image is potential only, it must be made into a ‘likeness’ by the exercise of goodness. Had humanity been created in perfection, it would have performed its good acts automatically. (Rowan Williams, The Wound of Knowledge (London: Darton, Longman and Todd, 1990) p.27-28)

The Anglican Church adopts a three fold authority structure to guard against mis-guided discernment: Scripture, tradition and reason. All three must play a part in the discernment process. This is why discerning moral responses to issues takes time because all three must be held in tension. In our current age we have, at times, thrown all three out of the window and adopted the authority of this world, private happiness.

Although it is not obvious, St. Benedict is talking about discernment in this week’s chapter. He talks about how a visiting monk should point out things he thinks are wrong and how the abbot should respond.

If he thinks something wrong and points it out humbly, charitably and judiciously, the abbot should circumspectly meditate upon it, for the Lord may have sent the stranger for that purpose.

Humility, love and wisdom. These should be our desires for ourselves. What does it mean to pray for humility? What does it mean to be loving? What does it mean to be wise? All of them are life-long journeys of discovery and our prayer should always be that God works these things through us and all of them will require that we change who we are.

Reflection

There has been a really interesting report out this week from the Centre for Theology and Communities entitled ‘Deep Calls to Deep: monasticism for the cities’. In it they have explored monastic expressions from various traditions in East London. At the end of the interviews they share the following suggestion,

The stories in this report are challenging to our urban consumer culture. They are stories of people prepared to commit to something for life, living together in community, willing to forgo and to share money for the benefit of others, devoting their careers to pursuit of the Common Good. (Tim Thorlby and Angus Ritchie, Deep Calls To Deep: monasticism for the cities (London: Centre for Theology and Communities, 2015) p.43)

The reason I would argue that the New Monastic movement is an evangelistic and missional movement is because of this direct challenge to our culture at this time. I see many people proclaiming Jesus Christ as Lord and coming to Church but there is little focus on the conversion, the turning away from a previous life.

I guess Shane Claiborne says it best,

We are cultural refugees. The beautiful monastics throughout church history were cultural refugees; they ran to the desert not to flee from the world but to save the world from itself… Much of the world now lies in ruins of triumphant and militant Christianity. The imperially baptized religion created a domesticated version of Christianity – a dangerous thing that can inoculate people from ever experiencing true faith. (Everyone is a Christian, but no one knows what a Christian is anymore.) Our hope is that the postmodern, post-Christian world is once again ready for a people who are peculiar, people who spend their energy creating a culture of contrast rather than a culture of relevancy. (Shane Claiborne, Jesus for President: politics for ordinary radicals (Michigan: Zondervan, 2008) p. 238-240)

The New Monastic movement is, I feel, taking an interesting turn in the UK towards a parish focus. This parish focus reintroduces sacrifice into a movement that could have been seen as pic and mix spirituality. With an emphasis on location the new monastics are called to even deeper obedience and commitment that counters that consumerism that is ingrained in all of us. With the emphasis on committing to a particular community and a particular area, no matter how hostile or challenging, the new monastics are bringing the contrast of the disciplined life into the heart of a culture and changing it. The new monastics are living in exile in the midst of an alien culture and living an alternative lifestyle.

Loving Father, you are unchanging and steadfast but we are not. We thank you that the path of transformation is open to us and that we can change. Guide us by your grace and your Holy Spirit that we would be transformed into the likeness of your Son, Jesus Christ. May we grow to be steadfast in our commitment to you, that we would be more and more faithful disciples, humbly loving the world and seeking to establish your kingdom here amongst us.

Come, Lord Jesus.

Parish Monasticism?

cropped-color-calgary-header-3

Suscipe me, Domine, secundum eloquium tuum, et vivam;
et non confundas me ab expectatione mea.

Receive me, O Lord, according to your word, and I shall live:
and let me not be ashamed of my hope.

Since training for ordained ministry at Cranmer Hall in Durham, I have felt a call to a form of monastic life. Monastic life comes in many different forms and, with the rise of New Monasticism in the UK and USA, as well as other places, the word ‘monasticism’ has become a bit of a buzz word. I think this is down to a move of the Spirit; a conviction to return to ‘life together’. Our society and culture loves the concept of community but it has, as I have said before, ‘become vacuous by its overuse’. Community, in the religious/spiritual sense, does not just mean individual autonomous units living side by side but rather means a breakdown of our personal boundaries to enter into a deep communion with others. In this respect I’m indebted to the writings of John Zizioulas, Thomas Merton, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Henri Nouwen, Miroslav Volf and Stanley Hauerwas, who have become significant in the New Monastic movement*.

Whilst in Durham I encountered the Celtic Saints; Cuthbert, Bede and, of course, Aidan! Through their lives and witness I was inspired to live out my discipleship in a meaningful and deeper way. It wasn’t that I wasn’t inspired by other, non-monastic Christians but there was something about the commitment they showed to their Lord that opened my eyes.

I am an ‘all or nothing’ kind of guy. I have always been passionate and if my heart and gut isn’t fully committed to something I rarely engage. It’s been a good thing to have been brought up to be intensely fascinated by the world in which I live. My mother, one of my greatest inspirations, was a teacher fueled by her love of learning. she finds the world an awesome place and, with child like wonder, explores thoughts, ideas and experiences. After separating from my dad, she never re-married. She loved the solitary life (well with three children!) Over the last five or ten years, as her children left home and she experienced increasing personal freedom with her space and time, she has discovered a spirituality that not only enriches her but has transformed her.

She has struggled and experienced a difficult period within those years which had a major impact on that spiritual awakening but whatever has grown in her has been present in her, certainly, through my life. I look at her and she is a ‘monastic’ person; a woman who structures her day around encounters with her heavenly Father, who dedicates every moment of her life to prayer and service and who intentionally seeks God in the everyday.

As I look at my own life and come across decisions I find myself wanting to live a life like my mother because through her I see Christ, his compassion and his Passion. I see the fruit of a life that is dedicated in this way where integrity of character is based on an undiluted desire to be transformed and aligned to that of Jesus Christ, the image of the invisible God.

Whilst discovering the Celtic Saints I also found the Northumbria Community who, from the moment I read their Rule of Life, I knew would have an important part of my discipleship.

It was during my second year at college when I experienced the pain of a particular approach to ministry. This experience un-settled me (that’s an understatement, to say the least!) I found myself uncertain of what I was being called to as a minister in the Church of England. Most of my reflections around this time were around ‘home’ and the feeling of ‘exile’ was very prominent. In this emotional landscape I visited the Northumbria Community and the language that they used was a fresh homecoming… but that’s not quite right: A homecoming in the desert. The feeling of ‘edge’, ‘fringe’ and being an ‘outsider’ remained but I felt a peace about that place.

Since that time I’ve been grateful to God for sending me to the Northumbria Community and I have dedicated myself to attempting to live under their Rule of Life. I began their novitiate process and have been exploring it ever since. That process has, in recent months come to a halt as I struggle to ‘fit’ into parish ministry. It is this struggle which has encouraged me to start writing on the ‘monastic’ call to my life, whatever that ends up looking like.

Over Advent this year, I read Esther de Waal’s ‘Living with Contradiction: Benedictine wisdom for Everyday Living’. I enjoyed it, partly because it is clearly an inspiration for the Northumbria Community’s love of paradox but also because it opened up the cloisters of Benedictine monasteries to everyday life. It made me ask the question, ‘is it possible to have an open monastic house in a parish?’ What might it look like to be a parish priest with a monastic call?

cropped-color-calgary-header-3

During a stay at Nether Springs (the mother house of the Northumbria Community) I was speaking to Rev. Pete Askew about this sense of call to monastic life. He wisely suggested,

It’s impossible to live the way of life we live here at Nether Springs and be a parish priest. You’d have to be very stubborn to achieve it.

Then he looked at me and joked,

You may be able to do it!

There’s something in my gut which says I should try. I will probably fail. I will probably discover that I am naiive and have completely misunderstood the monastic call. I have reservations about the outcome but I still feel the journey should be made and if, after prayer and seeking, God leads me to a place of humility where I learn from the wisdom of obedience then so much the better… I guess that is my aim; to learn what obedience means.

I plan to read and pray through the Rule of St. Benedict. I will take one chapter each week and reflect on it. This is not (and I want to emphasize this) an exercise of understanding Benedictine monasticism. I will not write my reflections as advice on how to live out the Rule; I am in no way qualified or experienced in that. My reflections will be a personal journey of how I read the Rule of St. Benedict, what the way of life, that is lived out by those who have committed their life to it, inspires in me, encourages in me and challenges me. I do hope it is of benefit to others but more than that I do hope God uses this journey of exploration to speak to me and shape me into what would be of benefit to him.

Seek the Lord while he may be found, call upon him while he is near. (Isaiah 55:6)

*Of course there a female writers, Esther de Waal, Karen Ward, Nadia Bolz-Weber and Sister Catherine Wybourne.

A Bell Tolls

Just come back from a placement with the Northumbria Community. This time has been so affirming and essential to my personal journey I haven’t felt able to write any reflections here. I return so excited about my call and refreshed in passion for life.

I did write a poem whilst on placement as part of a short retreat led by the community and I thought I could at least share that. It is a form of ‘beat’ poetry. I was fortunate and privileged to be asked to participate in the Beat Eucharist at Greenbelt Festival this year and it involved writing several poetic, prayers/ sermons/’prophetic’ rants. I have begun to use this poetic style to express myself. The thing I find helpful is it is like a train of consciousness and allows my web style thinking to be expressed in a linear format.

A Bell Tolls

A bell tolls in the distant sky, rings out a call to consider, contemplate, to cry out to Christ our King, a call to climb out of the cave and into intercessory prayer, where, we care, despair, tear down the walls of separation, segregation and sanitation of our own pleas. Here we join with voices echoing out through time, space, history and in this wind swept landscape of solitude our sighs sing with the Psalmist who says: “From aching pit of my dark, dank, daunting depths a soul shattering scream, a piercing pitch capable of breaking the sinews of any hearer, echoes out to you the Spirit source of unspeakable prayers. Can you hear it, my God? Can you feel it, my Lord? Listen! Listen to this broken, brittle, barefoot disciple of Yours, this minuscule amount of matter, turn Your gaze on my meagre matter. If you, Faultless Father, should mark, record, consider, remember my shaken steps of sinful saintliness, steps so steeped in self-centredness, steps in sands swept by sea-sent cyclones, steps mis-placed, mis-directed, misshapen, missed the mark, who could stand? Who could stand? Who could bear the shame so solid, so dense it’s hard to stand?”1 Stories of saints standing on islands swept by sea salt sent from Scotland to speak of peace,
gentleness,
authenticity,
prayerful presence in pagan lads, piece by piece, person by person, preaching, proclaiming grace.
Grace.
God-sent, God-glorifying giants of faith humbly humming harmonies of hope home to hearts of helpless, hardened, harsh inhabitants. The balance of life; cell to connacle, alone to others, monastery to mission, Aidan praying: “Leave me alone with my Lord as much as may be, As the intemperate tide draws the tempestuous waters close into the shore, make me an island, set apart, solitary with You, God, holy. And then, with the turning of the tide, teach me to take your presence to the tired, time orientated tribes beyond. The world where world weary eyes weep, the world that wants me, calls me, rushes in on me till the timely tide treads again across the causeway and folds me back to you.”2 My poem intercepted, interspersed, interacting with Psalms and prayers, where their voice stops mine begin unbroken beats bubbling up behind bold but barren beliefs. Their story, spirituality seeping so softly into my spirit. “The Sacred Three our blessing be.”3 Songs sewing us together, stories stitching us into one sign of God’s faithfulness. “Encircle us, Lord.”4 Secure our steps on these trodden paths. “Come wind, Come rain, Come pelting storm, Whatever it may be. Be my shield, my refuge, Come walk beside me.”5 Songs of praises, shouts of Psalms, unstoppable strength sourced from the stream of solitude.
A bell tolls,
for friendship, food, fellowship in our Faithful, Faultless Father, bearing fruit of enfleshed favour of Him who send us out from refectory to road. Clear, distinct and yet the same. “I love to serve”6 you, my guest, Christ in the other, at home, hospitality, being available for you, my guest, Christ in the other and away, availability for you, my host, Christ in the other. “Don’t wash my feet!” “I must.”7 He says humbly inviting humility in my heart. Availability leading to Vulnerability.8 Open to other’s honesty, questions of motive, critique of meaning but all the time testing, refining, eyes of others, eyes of Him. Who could stand? Who could stand? “With Him there is assurance, steadfast, shame-reversing passion and with Him there’s the source of strength to stand!”9 Stand alone on distant islands, hopeful hermit. Stand with others reluctantly in refectory, faithful friend. Stand for others in King’s courts, ancient apostle. Stand in the shadow of Celtic saints, ride the rule, the regulus, the rhythm of prayer everywhere. Stand, sing, shout,
whisper words of wholeness to a world weary of religious rhetoric.
Recite the written stories, the spoken stories of ancient times afresh. A bell tolls in the distant sky, rings out a call to stop,
silence,
sit with saints,
stop.

1. a poetic re-hash of Psalm 130: 1-3
2. a poetic re-hash of the prayer of St. Aidan (why not read the Monasticism and Ascesticism posts)
3. from a song used as ‘grace’ at meal times in Northumbria Community.
4. from a song used by Northumbria Community.
5. from a song I sang whilst walking.
6. a phrase that had led to a conversation with one of the guests on retreat.
7. from John 13:8.
8. The two aspects of the Rule of Life for the Northumbria Community.
9 a poetic re-hash of Psalm 130:4.


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!

Finding God at the Other Extreme


As I enter my final week of my second year at college and I begin to say goodbye to friends with whom I have shared my journey of training, I’m forced to reflect on the nature of our community these past two years. These reflections have been informed by the opening section of Pete Ward’s ‘Participation and Mediation’ where he describes different typological scales of theology (not worth explaining just forget that bit!). Here he describes David Tracy’s continuum stretches from ‘orthodox theology’ to ‘radical theology’

For orthodox theology, says Tracy, ‘the claims of modernity are not seen to have any inner theological relevance’. In fact a commitment to orthodox belief and expression is seen as a ‘bulwark’ against contemporary philosophy and criticism. At the opposite extreme lies radical theology. Radical theologians are aware of liberal and neo-orthodox traditions; however, they have taken the crucial step, says Tracy, of applying the dialectic of neo-orthodoxy to faith itself. The result is a re-expression of the Christian tradition, ‘which negates the central belief of that tradition in God.’

Whether you understand or agree with Ward, what struck me about this description, and his other outlines to scales of theology, is how separate the two ends of the continuum are to each other. Having said this, however, on further reflection I’m more struck how closely these two ends are. Here I hit upon my major thought of our community at Cranmer Hall for the two years Sarah and I have been here. Society seems to put things on a scale and thus separate the two extremes. This leads to two wrong assumptions; one, that the two positions are complete negations of each other (black is the complete opposite to white) and two, the ideal position is in the middle, “both/and”, “everyone’s sort of right”.

The truth is ‘extremism’ is a dirty word in a world where hate crimes, terrorism and political uprising is a regular occurrence. Extreme positions define the boundaries in any collection of people; no more so than in Cranmer Hall. My peer group for the past two years have been defining themselves, individually and collectively, on this scale. On one end is ‘Anglo-Catholicism’ the other is ‘Charismatic-Evangelical’. Already there is an issue! Is ‘Charismatic Evangelical’ the opposite? Is not ‘Liberal’ the opposite? The scale, however, seems to have been drawn and you fit somewhere on the scale.

My year, however, have experienced something new. Instead of the scale being linear we have discovered that the closer one moves to the extremes the more we move to the opposite extreme. This creates more of a circular ‘continuum’. We have discovered that the difference between the two extremes is smaller than the difference between the extremes and the ‘compromising central’. Maybe a diagram will help.

My peers and I have discovered that the more radical/orthodox we become the more we seem to find common ground. It highlights and intensifies the disagreements but the heated debates only help to shape and mould us to find the most radical/orthodox position beyond all labels.

Our democratic society asks us to find the synthesis between a thesis and antithesis but the synthesis loses all the definition of the thesis and antithesis. political parties are wanting to be in the middle and has diluted all opinions or definition. The more middle they are the more indistinct they become. How can we live side by side whilst holding onto the extremes? Not by canceling each other out but experiencing what can only be described in practice as the radical meeting of the two.

In our first year we worshipped with strong flavors from the different traditions. This enabled one extreme to experience the other and to discover God in that act. This same approach was clear in the many debates we had in our common room. The more passionately one spoke of their faith the more respect from the ‘opposite’ view grew. This is the most beautiful part of this community; that it is when we seem to travel furthest away from our ‘tradition’ that we find God and I will celebrate this discovery next week as we experience the death of the community.

Pete Rollins has spoken about the approach to conflict in this way.

When faced with such a confrontation (that society all too often attempts to protect us from) our primal response is often one of either,
Consumption – Attempting to dissolve their difference by integrating them into our social body (making them like us)
Vomiting – Rejecting them from our social body as a foreign agent that must be expelled (protecting the integrity of our body)
Of course, most educated and enlightened communities attempt to avoid these very natural tendences, opting instead for a more reflective position that gets beyond these extremes of consuming the other or vomiting them out. This more thoughtful position can be described as eating with the other. Here the community seeks to sit down with the other and seek out places of convergence.
However this third position still operates from the same underling belief as the others,
Consumption – We are right and you are wrong. We shall integrate you
Vomiting – We are right and you are wrong. We shall reject you
Eating with – We are both right in some substantial way. Let us reflect upon where we converge and move forward together
In each of these cases we seek to exorcise or downplay the monstrosity of the other (their bizarre practices and beliefs). But what if one of the truly transformative encounters with the other is not where we try to annihilate their monstrosity (by abolishing it, rejecting it or domesticating it), but by coming into contact with our own monstrosity through it? In this alternative type of encounter we glimpse how we look through their eyes and begin to ask whether our beliefs and practices are just as strange.

So let us not create a bland faith or tradition but let us embrace what my fellow ordinands and I have discovered that orthodox is radical and radical is orthodox and we encounter each other and God not in retreating to the safe middle but by delving deeper into our extremism and discovering something (w)hol(le)y other!

(Sorry for the rushed thoughts… weekend activities saying goodbye are pulling me away from writing!)

Theatre Church (part XI)

I’m sat in Sanctuary 21 after another introductory meeting for my placement. Two people came tonight but instead of being disappointed I am overjoyed. Why?
I have come to realise that this small ‘drip-drip’ approach to the start of this group is more in keeping with the ‘organic’ nature I felt was needed. The big flashy, explosion onto the scene was never going to work. As I approached tonight I was struck by how Jesus started his ministry; by gathering one or two and focussing on getting to know them and building them up and the rest followed suit. I was particularly drawn to John’s account where the first two went and invited others to come.

I’ve been thinking about the way in which people begin to belong. I’ve returned to my months of deep listening that I’ve done since a year ago. It’s important for me to note the changing understanding of what this group may look like. My vision is not perfect and to look back over the common themes and points of interest is important to see clearly what is developing. Throughout my journal I have written a need to model community, natural, raw and organic. One of my notes has the quote from ‘Organic Community’,

We need to bear in mind that the most accurate word to describe the process of forcing intimate connection is rape.

This may sound harsh and ‘over the top’ but to force people to be community is never pastoral and is not godly. This connects with one of the things I noticed about the DST. I want to clarify, before I note the things that I have become important in the last week, what I really think and feel about DST as an organisation with the people involved. I love the DST. I love the work they’re producing. It is full of talented, passionate and intelligent people who are very successful, both here in Durham and across the country. I want to lift them up as a great example of student theatre and the potential is really exciting. What follows are three things that I felt was lacking in the DST and ‘gaps in the market’ where I feel the new group developing here at Sanctuary 21 will fill.

The first thing I noticed and have re-read in my journal, marking my deep listening, is a sense of how many auditions there are each week.
Most of the people I have come to know, and admire, will go from audition to audition, some successful and some not. This cannot be healthy for a person’s sense of self. I have seen this in professional theatre as well. An individual will just travel round and put themselves on the line so often that sooner or later they will forget who ‘themself’ is. As a defense mechanism an actor will quickly begin to perform and say what they think a director wants to hear or see. I experienced many people come to auditions for my theatre company and they will be performing the whole time. I wanted to know who people were, what they were about but all I got was a walking CV with what they have done or what they can do (juggling, acrobatics, accents,etc.). Auditions force artists to say and do things that may not fully describe what they are about and soon they will lose sight of what they have to truly offer.

I must remember that auditions must never play a part in this group. I want to truly discover what each individual has to offer and to honour their unique creative voice. I want to encourage everyone to know they are a part of the group not because of their aptitude to perform but because they are uniquely made. Any conversation where I am welcoming someone into the group must be clearly a welcome to the community rather than a test/interview/audition. I have begun to tell the people who are now becoming this group to voice this in any conversation; “We don’t audition, you are welcome if you want to join.”

The second thing I have noticed in my journal is my interest in the speed at which shows are produced. The usual rehearsal period is three weeks, at times its two. This has its benefits; it means people get lots of experience of a wide range of plays and meeting lots of people. I will not deny that it does get people mixing and it means people get a packed CV for future careers. Again I see an unhealthy aspect to this approach. If you were an actor and you were digging into your emotional memory to perform a character and then the show just finished and you moved straight onto the next thing without giving that emotional journey closure and you repeated this again and again then what does this create in you. There’s a pastoral issue here of managing your emotions. Relationships are never given enough time to grow deep and so, although your meeting lots of people, you’re not investing fully into them as you know you’ll be finishing the show in two or three weeks. Due to funding cuts the professional theatre has adapted this model of work where an individual actor may move from one company to another without developing long term relationships.

This has been a big drive to the creation of this group. At this time we have no need for funding and so we can be extravagant and explore what happens when a real ‘company’ is created and those relationships are as much a part of the creative process as the individual. The group, therefore, must be committed long-term with each other. Any ‘product’ does not mark the end of the relationship but a shared experience from which we can grow together.

The final thing that I have been reminded of this week is what I’ve witnessed in terms leadership. In individual companies there’s a sense of hierarchical power play. There is a producer and a director who drive the rehearsals and the actors who follow that vision. Due to the shortness of the rehearsal period an actor just turns up and does what the director wants and the choice of story/script is down to the director. Obviously an actor will choose if they want to be a part of that play but, from my observations, most people don’t actually care about the play they just want to do anything. This puts a lot of pressure on directors and also builds for them a pedestal on which some love and others hate. Directors and producers become the ‘gods’ of this community. People talk to them because they have something to offer (a part) and this makes it a lonely existence. I’m not saying that it’s this extreme but I’m painting a picture.

This image mirrors what is happening in churches and something that I don’t want to model… but that’s another issue!

This group must have, in its DNA, a flat leadership or rotational leadership. The group is the responsibility of each member not just me who suggested its inception. The existence is based around each giving themselves and steering it. This allows the potential for sustainability and flexibility in future.

I want to finish by stating one final thing. I’m still fairly open to see where God will fit into this. I know He will be present but I don’t want to cut out His role, I’d prefer He just took His place. Does this require all of them to be Christian? No. Would God exist even if all His creation denied Him? That’s a big question to leave you with!

Theatre Church (part X)

I sat in Sanctuary 21 tonight waiting for the time set for the big introduction to this ‘thing’ that has been playing through my mind since Christmas to arrive. As the time ticked by and it got closer to the start, the big cloud of doubt floated into the space and hovered over me. “What if no one comes?” “What am I doing?” Throughout this all I remained optimistic “People said they’d come.” “This is clearly a need in this theatre community.” “People are excited about it.” The event was scheduled to begin at 6.45pm. Fifteen minutes after this time one person walked through the door.

Ministry training does not prepare you for this. One person! There are two responses to this fact; one, be positive or two, be disappointed. If you’re positive there’s plenty of Scripture that talks about persecution, the hard walk of faithful discipleship but then again, there’s of equal balance Scripture telling of God’s blessing to those who are faithful. I have spoken in the past about how to face disappointment and justifying reality til the metaphorical cows come home. This is not a time, while it is still raw and fresh, to justify what God is doing (or not doing). But I think it’s important to talk about failure.

In our church we hear success stories all the time, it’s not good for publicity or authority if we fail. Despite our deep understanding that for every good idea there are an average of 8 not so good ones. We push, as leaders and visionaries, our connection with God’s vision and God’s plans. In order to have the authority to lead a community one needs to have the discernment of God’s will and dream dreams and see visions. The truth is, we are not immune from spiritual confusion. But if I am to model authenticity then I need to tell the stories of failures or misguided vision as well as success and ‘wins’.

To be a pioneer is to take risks; to see an opportunity and to resolutely pursue it. I have taken a risk and it hasn’t worked so what is the response?

Return to the original, basic call.

What was it that God put on my heart that drove me to pursue this opportunity? My passion to connect with those involved in the theatre community, to offer them an opportunity to explore who they are and discover their creative voice; to give them a place where they can truly express who they are based on a knowledge of themselves.

Has that call changed? Is that not what is being asked of me now? No. That call is still there. What, therefore, is the next step? To continue and persevere with this idea or to change tact? Two interesting reflections; one, if I think back to my time in Byker (see ‘Death and Resurrection’ post) I am reminded of the power of continued presence in the face of so much temporary incarnations (quangos, consultants,etc) The second reflection is one that I want to explore in more detail and extends my reflections on the Cathedral Event that I’m apart of (see ‘Theatre Church (part VIII b)’ post).

In both the church and the theatre world the majority of thinkers and commentators would agree that to be product focussed stunts the exploration and deep reflection on culture and social movements. Both parties would bemoan the emphasis on being activity driven rather than the existence as good in and of itself. In the theatre, as the funding is cut, companies don’t have the luxury to explore, to research and develop ideas. There is no space, time or finances to allow the artists to explore, discover new things. Peter Brook suggests this replication, churning out products that are safe and driven by success, is ‘deadly’ and most people would agree. In the church, as we discover that creating a weekly event/service is sucking all our time and resources and distracts us from being community together, we speak about the ideal of being process, relationship based. The truth is, however, that processes, relationships, explorations cannot be measured. It is part of our capitalists’ mindset that if it has no profit, measurable success then it is worthless.

Success is measured on product shown, assets, ‘what have you got to show for this?’ The worth of something must be measured. Fresh Expressions are trying to counter this thinking but we can’t fight free from it. My latest experience would be measured as failure. If someone had invested in it then I would have failed and now would be the time to lessen the losses and salvage something from it. I want to shout from the rooftops “This is worth it! I have risked something, stuck my neck out and now I know what would happen!” To butcher a quote from Ernest Hemingway,

‘Only those who are prepared to go too far can possibly know how far they can go.’

I want to stay true to my call to process. To resolutely pursue this call to process, relationship and swim against the current of the capitalism that is a part of both church and theatre. I want to own my disappointment, yes, but to continue to explore the call put upon me. But how do you incarnate the importance of process in a world of product?

Well, like the Cathedral event, work with the current in order to subvert it. Sell a product in order to achieve a process and get people to explore and discover the benefits of the process. It’s a paradox that we exiles need to live in. In order to be counter cultural we need to be in the culture. To show the alternative we need to shine a light on the weakness of the option. Daniel, when in Babylon, lived the good Babylonian life and it was within this that he showed of the alternative way of life or the Pauline model, to become a Jew for the Jews, a
Gentile for the Gentiles all in order to show them the way of Jesus.

Connected with this is some thoughts on Fresh Expressions which were sparked by a fascinating conversation with Paul Burbridge from Riding Lights Theatre Company I had last weekend. He suggested the reason a theatre company cannot be church is down to the need for it to be inclusive of all people. If you limit the membership to those that understand theatre then it cannot be broad and inclusive. This is a very fair point. What makes a ‘theatre church’ church? Inclusion of those from all walks of life. Fresh Expressions need to embrace this inclusivity and not be limited to ‘skater church’, ‘curry church’, etc. Community must be defined by that which unites people in a group. These ‘expressions’ (skater, theatre, curry, etc.) gather people round something that makes them distinct but in order for them to mature into full expressions of church there needs to be deconstruction of that which excludes others.

It’s a paradox that one must define and sell the product in order to show that it’s not about the product; to show people that it’s the process of belonging that is more important than the product that you belong to.

Theatre Church (part IX)

I had sat in my tutors office with some fellow ‘ordained pioneer ministers’ students (OPMs) discussing how to establish a ministry ‘from scratch’. It was an interesting question in light of my tutors preparation on a sermon, preached last night, on Matthew 10. In this passage Jesus commands His disciples to go out in pairs to do the work of the Kingdom. My fellow OPMs, for their placement, were heading out as a pair to do ‘deep listening’ in an area near Durham. They were discussing the task ahead and how they, as a pair, were going to minister and be effective listeners and prophets. I sat in the room listening to their disucssions, how they were going to support each other, the importance of one playing the speaking role and one the listener, the model of Moses and Aaron and I had to ask; who was my fellow worker?

My wife is, of course, supporting me in my work but her own work means she cannot be actively present in the growth and foundational work of my placement. She will be a listening ear of my take on events but she cannot, by her absence, be as effective in listening to how God is moving. Who will be with me as I minister? Who will be the prayful partner or the active energy to balance my activity? Jesus sent the disciples out in pairs and it’s a good model but we must remember that most of the disciples will have been married, potentially with children. I am married but I don’t have a partner in ministry.

This has a knock on effect in terms of the changing shape that this community is taking.

The ideal leadership model for this placement, I believe, is a rotational leadership. Both Peter Brook, who I will be teaching tonight, and Jerzy Grotowski, who I explored on Monday, suggested a director should be a member of the ensemble and should not hold onto the power and direction of a groups discovery. This model of leadership is freeing for the whole ensemble, community or church but requires a great deal of trust and discernment. Both Brook and Grotowski, although proclaiming a collective leadership of the whole company understood the individual role and strengths of the seperate contributors. This rotational leadership doesn’t suggest that everyone, despite their lack of gifting or talent in leadership, should be forced into a position of power, but rather when someone has something to offer and a sense of leading the group into an area of exploration they will go ahead, blessed, of course, by the followers, the rest of the group.

As an individual ‘founder’ of this group I will, inevitably hold a great deal of power at the beginning. The members will look to me for direction, purpose, identity. My Christian walk, however, demands that I hand over that power quickly before, like Gollem in Lord of the Rings, it consumes me. My role as the ‘designated leader’ is not to hold power but to move the power round the group, discerning when its appropriate to weild it and when to pass it on and to whom.

Discernment is the role of the director. One person must be the discerner and watchman of the group. Jesus uses the image of the shepherd, who allows sheep to wander where the wish but to gently watch over them and go and find those that get lost. As a director who integrates themself into the ensemble, your role is to discern what is worthwhile to explore and what is not, when to step in and remind people of the direction and when to let that go. This is a balancing act and its not easy. As a leader of any group there is a call for one person to take on this task but it is important that that person handles power well. Which leads onto the necessity of a partner, an accountable persence to test the responses of this discerner. The group as a whole needs to play this role but too often people in the discerning role allow the power to speak lies and say “They don’t know all that you know. They are all walking off track and you know best.” To have someone marked out to be another discerner and to listen when one cannot and to speak when one cannot protects, in some way, the misuse of power.

Already I am struggling with the absense of another perspective on what’s being shaped and I need the eyes and ears of someone else to aid my reflections. Already I fell isolated both in my reflections and in the relationship building workshops. I’m meeting some fantastic people and all of whom are contributing to the shape of this community by their needs and interests and I don’t feel I have someone who can help me to remain faithful in the work set before me.

I could discuss the nature of accountability here and argue for the term ‘editability’ (see ‘Organic Community’ by Joseph Myers) but I don’t want to confuse the issue.

This past week I have been confirmed in the call to an apostilic mission of planting but the need for the support, not only of prayful communites and supporters but, of a partner in mission is important in all ministry. My next task is to discern who in the community gathering on Mondays will be my co-worker. I’m sure it will happen organicaly and until then I will remain patient.

Theatre Church (part VIII b)

Last time I discussed the first question I’m still wrestling with. If you have not read it I’d recommend it before you embark upon this one (see ‘Theatre Church (part VIII a)‘ post)

Today I turn my attention to the second question: How does a community organically grow if it has begun by a forced introduction?

I was involved, before the summer break, in an event at the Cathedral. The idea was my tutor’s and he borrowed some thinking from his time in Gloucester Cathedral. As we prepare for the next meeting we met and reflected on the shape this ‘thing’ should take. We got on to discussing which should come first ‘event’ or ‘community’. In Gloucester, my tutor had an established community and took them into the Cathedral for an event; this then led to many other people being invited but at the centre was a community. In Durham, we discovered that we were presuming a community that didn’t exist. We had invited disparate individuals, forced them to be community and then did an event, this approached put an emphasis on sustaining community rather than invitation to an event.

I wonder, are my Monday night workshops ‘event’ first or ‘community’? In the beginning it will be an event. This is not an ideal. An event presumes no commitment apart from those organising and running the event. An event must be thought of as a one off; it can be repeated but the people who come to the second may not be the people who come to the first. An event is for people to taste or see something with no commitment necessary. This is great for some concepts and ideas and it’s manageable as long as the people running it know that each time there’s a certain amount of re-beginning. An event can turn into a community; I have seen it happen. People repeatedly come to an event and soon its an excepted routine, intentionally meeting to experience something together.

How does an event become a community?

Everyone hopes that an event will capture the imaginations and enjoyment of the spectator or participants. Some events are so popular that they have to be repeated and people come and bring friends to share. This is how events grow into a popular routine occurrence rather than a one off event. I don’t, however, want the amount of participations to grow necessarily. If 20 people turn up for the first event, then I want to deter some from coming back to the next one. This is completely counter cultural in the theatre world. I am limiting the number of people this will impact to be sure that some, long-term impact is made. My aim is clear; I want to be part of a gathered, intentional, committed community.

There’s going to have to be a certain element of ‘event’ in that first meeting but I am beginning to see the importance of personal invitation, of being true to what this ‘thing’ is trying to be and of not trying to be the biggest and most successful thing to hit Durham Theatre scene! As I run my four introductory workshops to practitioners the two weeks before the launch night, I need to be watching and seeing who would bring something to this community, who would commit, who would be passionately and honestly engaged with it. I need to be bold in my conversations and listening to hear confirmation that they would be interested and invite them to participate. This requires a Calvinistic predestination approach. Are only some people welcome? Am I to judge who’s in and who’s out? I need to rethink!

What is a community?

A community, for me, is a group of people committed to the support and development of the other members, a place of sharing and, ideally a place to call ‘home’. We have discussed commitment already but it needs to be more than just turning up. There needs to be an element of giving and sharing to the group; participation on a sacrificial level. I hope to explore the concept of ensemble work and encourage this to be lived out in the meetings. To introduce, early on, the idea of each week people bringing something to offer to the community. I would like, also, to break the individual leader focus and to create a flat or rotational leadership where I (as founder) don’t become the leader of the community but to place myself as a member of the community, not above or better but equal, to model true Christian discipleship whether they know it or not and to encourage them to do likewise.

I guess the only option left is to narrow the invitation and be bold in my explanation of what I imagine will happen. To state, from the outset, “this is going to be tough, deep. It requires commitment and a passion for exploration. It’s through this hard process that you will find great discoveries and participate in something memorable for you.” One would hope that with prior warning the invitation will attract only those serious and interested and then, hopefully, the initial event will quickly become a group of committed, engaged people. With this core of people, attracted by the same call, one can start to feed and sustain a community.

Theatre Church (part VIII a)

So the start of term is well under way up here in Durham; Freshers fill our streets wearing togas, academic gowns and other varieties of fancy dress, songs identifying them with their college ring in the air and the traditional rivalries are back! In our quiet, more ‘mature’ part of the university system our college, not the typical undergraduate college, has begun lectures and we returning students begin to build a new community from the shattered remains of the previous year. This process is fun, exciting, full of potential but exhausting for an introvert like me. Meeting so many new people and always judging ‘how much do I commit to this relationship?’As I watch from a relative distance this new community forming, with its intricate dynamics and power plays (some of them involve me I have to admit) I wonder what makes a community.

As I step ever closer to the first utterance in public of the seed of an idea that is my placement, I have begun to feel ‘pre-launch jitters’. The two questions I have for myself are: ‘How do I invite people to something I don’t know?’ and ‘how does this community organically grow if I have created a forced introduction?’

Let’s start with the first question. Communicating the vision is an important part of the establishing of any community but how clear is any vision if you don’t know the people who will form your community? We can have hypothetical people with hypothetical needs and create something for them in our imaginations thus constructing a vision for the trajectory but it’s based on hypotheticals. I’m left with the same question that I have played through in my mind for some months. I sought the advice of two friends and advisors. One of them suggested that the invitation should be honest and intriguing “Come along on Monday nights to explore, play and see what happens!” … interesting concept. Creative people will love the space for creativity and it’s certainly different from the usual “I’m doing such and such a play and I need you to take on the role of so and so with these lines.” It also doesn’t limit the possibilities. It also helps me to remain honest about where I’m coming from; I’m a trainee vicar whose only aim is to meet some people passionate about drama and to see what happens. My other friend/advisor suggested a slightly more prescriptive approach but one that equally has benefits. “I have a process of theatre theory that I believe in and would like to share it with whoever wants to hear it.” Another interesting approach. What I like about this approach is it narrows the criteria but not too much that it will be alienating.

This first question forces me to face an issue that needs to be addressed; what is my aim? The original vision was deliberately vague to take into consideration the complete unknown. Now, however, I’m at the stage where I have processed a lot of information, I’ve reflected on where I feel passionately called to and what I feel God wants to do. I have arrived at a place where the things around me are coming into focus, instead of looking far off into the horizon I’m seeing things close up. I have been able to arrive at this place by way of negation. I don’t want my Monday night workshops to be busy, I want the group to be small so I can form relationships with people. I don’t want Monday nights to be director led, I want there to be an ensemble feel which I am a part of. I don’t want Monday nights to be planned, structured and full of material, I want to be led by the spirit responding to the needs of the group. What I have concluded is I’d like to gather a group of people who are committed to exploring the nature of theatre and how they as an individual can, through this exploration, discover what it means to be human.

This sounds like a good mission statement. There are some issues in it which need to be worked out, i.e. what does commitment look like and how realistic is this within an artistic, student community. The interesting thing, however, is that there’s no mention or prescription of spirituality and or religion allowing people the freedom to engage in whatever they want. This leads me to Acts 17 where Paul goes to Athens and preaches to the philosophers there about ‘the unknown God’. This passage as served as a basis of most of my theological reflection on my placement and it struck me that Paul never mentions Christ and yet people come to believe in Him. The powerful thing about this is that I don’t have to force Christ into the room because he is there already. As we discover what it means to be human we discover more about Christ…discuss!

As the new community in college is being shaped I am conscious of the people who I welcomed last year as they looked around the college discerning whether to come here or not. I remember talking about ‘this community’ but now that they have entered into ‘this community’ it has changed, people have left and new, unknown people have arrived. I was inviting people into a community that no longer exists and I couldn’t guarantee what ‘that community’ would look like. At the time, however, I had an idea of what a community in this place with these aims would look like. It turns out to be different but I hope the central idea and concept still remains. To invite someone to something that you don’t know is impossible because the truth is if you’re inviting them to it its because you have a vague understanding of what it could be and that must be worth an invitation!

So I guess I do know what this placement looks like, in theory. I must press forward with this but be alert to the fact that it may not, indeed it probably won’t, look anything like that! Should the invitation be open to all or should I be specific? I guess that leads me into my second question…

Join me tomorrow as I reflect on ‘how does a community organically grow if it has begun by a forced introduction?’