Tag Archives: God

Setting Out Delving In

So here’s the thing;

If we see the world in dualistic terms then matter/material is, in some way, separate from the spiritual/immaterial. If this is, in anyway true then that which cannot be measured tangibly in space/ time cannot fully participate in the stuff of this world. We can talk about mixture, of transcendental union but essentially they are different.

If we see the world in monistic terms then matter/material is, in some way, connected/related to the spiritual/immaterial. If this is, in anyway true then that which can be measured tangibly in space and time is able to fully participate in the source of life/sustaining power of this world. We can talk about the fear of pantheism, of matter being God but essentially they are the same.

The power of the story of Jesus is not that one man could be God but that one God could be man. The shocking truth of the incarnation is that the Divine spark, the power behind our genesis became enfleshed. This is not the same as the Greek myths of a divine dress-up/play acting; this is matter humming with immaterial essence.

It is easy to speak of a dualistic existence and incorporate the mystery of the incarnation but what if it’s more beautiful than that? What if the incarnation isn’t the Divine intervening, breaking through into reality for the first time? What if it was the fullest revelation of a truth that He was there all along? What if matter is, in some way an echo of the Divine?

This does not mean that we worship those echoes. This does not mean that we, who consist of matter, are gods. What this means is that the immaterial/spiritual is the measure of reality. As I say that, however, I’m struck by how quickly the division between the material and the immaterial crops up in my dialogue. What if there is no distinction? How do we speak of God in monistic terms without it turning to pantheism which belittles the personal God who loves and was expressed in the incarnation Himself?

The Stoics offer a metaphysical suggestion.

 They [the Stoics] think that there are two principles of the universe, that which acts and that which is acted upon. That which is acted upon is unqualified substance, i.e. matter; that which acts is the reason [logos] in it, i.e. god. (Diogenes Laertius, Lives of the Eminent Philosophers)

For the Stoics, all that exists must be corporeal and therefore both these principles are ‘bodies’ but made of different elements. The world is made up of the different states one substance in different states of being. This substance, for the Stoics, is expressed purely in a purifying fire. The passive principle is associated with earth and water denser expressions of this ‘fire’, the active principle is associated with air and fire. The question must be asked, within this understanding of a united world, what then differentiates one element from another?

The Stoics… explain all the formal or identifying characteristics of objects by reference to the presence, within their matter, of a divine principle that activates and shapes them. (Anthony Long and David Sedley, The Hellenistic Philosophers: vol.1)

For the Stoics, humans, as bodies, are matter, or the ‘passive principle’, with the divine, or ‘active principle’, within it.

The understanding of the interaction between the passive and active principle does not help, however, to distinguish elements from each other. Indeed, the elements themselves, as part of a unified world order, are from the same ‘designing fire’.

The introduction of the concept of tenor (tonos), or tension, helps here.

In his books On tenorshe [Chrysippus] again says…‘The sustaining air is responsible for the quality of each of the bodies which are sustained by tenor…’ Yet they maintain that matter, which is of itself inert and motionless, is everywhere the substrate for qualities, and that qualities are breaths and aeriform tensions which give form and shape to the parts of matter in which they come to be. (Alexander of Aphrodisias, On mixture and growth)

This opening theory sounds, at first, as ancient and ignorant hocus-pocus and memories of early medicinal practice jump up as a naive reminder that we’ve moved on and developed. What if there is something behind it that might help us to work towards a notion of God’s logos as eternally present in matter, expressed most fully in the incarnation. The incarnation, not as a metaphysical, mysterious mixture of Divine and matter for the first time but the pinnacle of reality which points us to a character of the Divine in whom we find our truth and essential being?

So here’s the thing;

There’s a pull on my heart to explore an alternative to the dualistic and escapist view prevalent in in some circles and to try and offer a God humming through His creation. It could lead me to heresy and the darkness of self-delusion but within a community of wise and loving interaction I feel safe in the knowledge of potential forgiveness and the quote of Ernest Hemingway rings in my ear,

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

Breaking the Silence?

After a break of about four months I thought I might re-start a discipline of blogging. I took a break for a number of reasons: I was writing and constructing a book which took up a lot of my head space. Once that was finalised I had to pick up all the thinking and processing I missed out on for creative worship events at college and then, after that, pick up on all the theological and academic head gymnastics involved in reading and writing for essays on a number subjects!

So here we are and what is it we have to talk about?

I guess this is an appropriate topic of conversation for me to consider after a period of digital silence; where does one begin breaking the silence with an expression?

In the digital space, if we can in fact talk of it as a ‘space’, silence as ‘nothingness’ is achievable, much more so than in the physical/ ‘real’ world. For those who know me only as the character behind the words on this site will believe me to have either ceased to exist or, at least, paused; frozen in time and this space we share. The truth is I never ceased to exist; I merely existed in a different form.

Silence in the physical world is often thought of, primarily, from speaking. If one speaks of another as ‘being silent’ they mean the other has stopped talking but, as many of us know, expression is only fractionally dependent on spoken words, there’s body language, facial expression, etc.. There’s also the strange phenomenon of the ‘not-saying’ saying much more; the sub text or the proverbial ‘elephant in the room’!

In the theatre world, particularly the physical theatre genre, there’s a theory, cited by Jacques LeCoq, which states all expression must begin from ‘silence’. This silence involves, as much as possible, both vocal silence and physical silence. The vocal silence is achievable but the physical is more complex. As physical beings we say something by just possessing space. If I stand before you I will communicate something, my existence, for a basic example.

How do we silence our physical expression?

LeCoq outlines a process of the ‘neutral mask’, establishing an homogenous physicality by acknowledging our individual idiosyncrasies and attempting to put them aside aqnd thus achieving a form of silence from self-expression (the expression of one’s self). The silencing of our physical expression,however, is, one must admit, impossible. LeCoq’s neutral mask, therefore, is achieving silence of self-expression and so true silence is a desire never to be achieved.

Here’s the rub; the theatre world has to conclude that we can never create ex nihilo (out of nothing). We are always reshaping what is already there. I have spoken before (see ‘An Idea! (part II)’ post) about the human being’s inability to ‘create’ in the same way as God created (bara in the Hebrew). Our expressions stem from the past for we are all caught in the continuum of space and time and we cannot transcend that.

So from the attempt of silence comes an understanding of, first, the present and then, naturally, the past; what has caused this moment to exist. We can dwell for eternity in the past but there is a spiritual discipline of forcing ourselves forward again into the present. The difficulty is we often push too hard and end up landing in the potential future (see ‘The Futre Doesn’t Exist/Everybody’s Free‘ post). The present is ‘tense’; a delicate balance between past and future. In this tension, creative energy begins but it is not creative in the sense of beginning something new but rather a shaping of what is already there.

What’s being hinted at here? I’m currently striving towards a theory which unites an emergent monist view of the human being with a belief in a ‘spiritual’ God or, if this is not possible, proposing, by discovering the lack of unity in these thoughts, a deeper understanding of an incarnated God.

I am not totally sold on an emergent monistic view which states that there is no ‘soul’ but rather a mind which has emerged from complex physical process of protons, neurons, etc.. The reason is because of its implications on our view of resurrection and of the ‘spiritual realm’. I am, however, uncomfortable with a dualistic view of the world because of it’s implications on our view of ourselves. My view is that dualism, naturally, leads one to view the self as, in some way, separate from the physical person and that the ‘true self’ is a static or distinct entity existing prior to the body and, therefore, not connected with the physical world. The incarnation leads me to consider the entanglement of self in with the physical and that God’s plan was never to create this world for us to visit only to return to ‘the homeland’ but to create a world for us to inhabit fully.

From the place of ‘attempted-silence’ an expression is made of past, present and potential future colliding. The vista opens up again and the unity of the cosmos is understood and questioned simultaneously. Let us dwell together in this place to contemplate and develop together.

(Read my digi-disciple posts on this topic, 28th of each month, and look forward to my contribution to Transpositions’ symposium on Art, Embodiment and the Digital)

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.


The Future Doesn’t Exist/ Everybody’s Free

WARNING: This post is more sporadic, disjointed and ultimately more passionate than most of my posts. Hang in there and invest in the proposal…please… oh and comment, suggest books, ask questions. Now, more than ever, I need your help!

For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope. (Jer 29:11)

Over the last year I’ve become more and more convinced that God is more interested in the present than He is in the future. I often sum up the idea by proclaiming the un-nuanced version; “I don’t believe in the future.” I don’t exist in the future, which is a healthy psychological position, and therefore I don’t participate in the activity of believing in that realm. I also don’t have trust in the future, I don’t have faith in this thing we call ‘future’. As well as both of these opinions I also don’t believe the future exists, i.e., It has not been created yet, it is not a static place or thing that we can in anyway grasp. The future is not reality. In most Churches the use of language about future is not fully explored.

What is ‘the future’?

The future is a designated time after this moment. We can call anything that may happen after now as ‘the future’. Its existence is considered inevitable due to the laws of time (tomorrow will happen after today). The inevitability of its existence doesn’t mean it exists currently, indeed the definition rejects any possibility of the future existing in the present for if it did it would be the present…

If we live in the belief that the future is a reality then we live within that belief system. For example:

Say someone believes that in the future they will be a doctor that belief impacts their present. They then believe that that future is inevitable and so the present moment and the decisions taken are changed in order to prepare for that reality. When that reality doesn’t arrive there’s a tear in their inner belief system. They had built a false reality around an imagined future and believed and trusted it would happen.

Trying to define the concept is difficult but I want us to rely on our simplistic understanding of ‘the future’ so we don’t have to enter into the physics of the future. We all feel at some time, divorced of the scientific thoughts, the sense of time just washing over us. Each moment has gone in a flicker of an eye and we enter into the next moment or it pushes onto us. Here is where I’d like to stop and ask a question.

Can we step into ‘the future’? or, do we step into ‘the future’?

You may ask what’s the difference between entering into the future or the future stepping into us? I believe it’s all in the interpretation. If you see yourself stepping into the future then there’s an implicit understanding that the future is a place/reality in which you can step into; it has become more concrete then just a mere concept. The onus is on you to make a decision as to whether you go or not. You have some element of control. We all know, however, that we will be in that moment whether we choose to or not. The future will become the present and the present moment will become the past. So the heavy concoction of sensing some control of time and its frightening inevitability makes us want to know the future before it happens. “If I am being forced to step into a room I want to at least know what’s in it.”

If, however, you see the future as coming at you like a freight train or a gentle stream then there is no control over it, implicit or explicit; all you have to do is stand there and deal with what comes. It is this idea that has been deeply liberating for me.

The passage from Jeremiah which we started with implies God is a puppet master of the cosmic order. The confusion happens when we acknowledge we also believe in free-will. What is free-will if God, ultimately will get His own way. That’s not true freedom, that’s manipulative! So how do we marry these two opposing views?

I wrote, last year, on God as the Divine Director and cited both Joseph Myers and T.J. Gorringe. The two posts (Divine Director (part I) and Divine Director (part II) posts) talk about the subject from a leadership perspective. Today I’d like to see it from a more general perspective.

What does God want me to do? What are His plans for me, plans to prosper me and not to harm me?

I’ve had so many conversations with people who are desperately trying to figure out what to do with their lives (one of those people was me!) There are so many options and choices to make; work, relationships, houses, money, religion, etc. We all have to make the ‘right’ choice and God is interested in the choices we make because the choices we make define who we are and our priorities. But what if we state that the future doesn’t exist yet and that any choice we make in the present directly impacts the creation of the future?

We create the future.

Take improvisation in drama. As an actor you stand on stage and, in order to create a narrative, you have to make a decision, you have to impact the story. This is deeply frightening as you stare into the emptiness of the next moment. You don’t know what is going to happen and the more you remain silent and frozen the larger that abyss becomes. There’s great wisdom in the slightly frustrated director’s command, “Do anything.”

The truth is it doesn’t matter what you do in that moment, what matters is how you do it. The question we must ask when making decisions in the present is not “Is this what God wants?” but “Is this in line with the character of Christ?”

So what are God’s ‘plans’? In this passage the word for ‘plans’ can be translated as ‘thoughts’. In the Hebrew Bible it is translated as ‘For I know the thoughts I am having for you…” “I know what I think of you.” It is more about the character of the person rather than their action.

What if following Jesus isn’t about asking What Would Jesus Do but rather How Would Jesus Be then the choices we make are important not because of the actual decisions but whether they’re made in line with the character of Jesus. God requires us to live this moment in the character of Jesus. Do not live in the future for it doesn’t exist yet, live in this moment. ‘Do not worry about tomorrow…’ The future will happen and when it does, if you live like Jesus, then all will be well. If you make a decision, God will bless it if you make it whilst being faithful to the character of Christ.

As a director, in improvisation, I don’t care what actor’s say or do as long as they do so with consistency of character. Jesus, likewise, criticizes religious hypocrisy a lot because their actions are not in line with their belief. They maybe making good decisions in line with the law but not in line with the character of God.

Do I marry this person or not? It doesn’t matter. What matters is how you marry them and consequentially fulfill those promises that matter. Or how you separate. Faithfully follow God’s commands; ‘Love God and love your neighbour.’

What do I do for a living? It doesn’t matter. What matters is how you live as whatever you become. Faithfully follow God’s commands; ‘Love God and love your neighbour.”

Does God know the future? Yes. He knows everyone’s decisions and the consequences of everyone’s action colliding together. Can He fully control the future? No because He has given His people free-will.

I hope you can begin to see why I’m struggling to write this book! So many ideas and implications it’s hard to contain them all. I guess I want everyone to know this; Do not worry about what you will do or what you will say. Life is not about which path you walk  but the way you walk it. Jesus is ‘the way’ not path so walk like Him. The future will arrive inevitability and will ask you to make choices but you cannot predict what those choices are so concern yourself with making decisions now in this moment.

We’ve not been able to get into the subject of prophecy, eschatology, discernment. At the end of the day (it gets dark!) God wants us to share responsibility for our decisions, He wants you to choose. He can’t control what you choose but He can advise and give you strength how to choose.

I will finish on some lyrics from Baz Luhrmann’s ‘Everybody’s Free (to wear sunscreen)’:

Don’t worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday… Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life…the most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don’t.

Our Basic Needs (part II)

I think of myself as self aware. I have spent the last two years in an institution that forces you to reflect almost constantly on how you respond to different stimuli, who you are and how you are developing. Increasingly I want to find the strength to cast off all that separates me from others. Personality tests, Psychological profiling, all of them helpful but each one I am forced to ask the question ‘What was Jesus like?” If our Myers Briggs type can change then I want it to change to Christ. There are so many ways people can pretend like they get to know themselves but all is fruitless if our aim is to die to our self and be raised in Christ.

I have used this quote before but I find it helpful in this discussion,

If your life is centered 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… people cannot simply assert their true self; they need to pray for the strength to find that self beyond their desires. (Finding Sanctuary – Abbot Christopher Jamison)

And this one too,

Many poets are not poets for the same reason many religious men are not saints: they never succeed in being themselves. They never get round to being the particular poet or the particular monk that they are intended to be by God.There can be an intense egoism in following everybody else. People are in a hurry to magnify themselves by imitating what is popular – and too lazy to think of anything better.Hurry ruins saints as well as artists. They want quick success and they are in such haste to get it that they cannot take time to be true to themselves. And when the madness is upon them they argue that their very haste is a species of integrity. In order to become myself I must cease to be what I always thought I wanted to be. (Seeds of Contemplation – Thomas Merton)

If my aim is to be more like Christ and Christ died to self, then I too must stop focussing on trying to be true to myself (if such a thing were possible). I want, rather, to be true to Christ.

I want to explore briefly the view that life is a performance. I’ve been re-reading ‘Faithful Performances: Enacting Christian Tradition’ and Ivan Khovaks’ cites Shannon Craigo-Snell work on interpretation of Biblical text. It’s an interesting exchange of ideas. What struck me was the move to acknowledge that by seeing life as a performance we are putting on pressure to achieve absolute and static truths all the time. If, however, we view life as a rehearsal we do not deny the possibility of achieving a connection with the character (of Christ) but we are aware that we continue to seek it until the final performance. Craigo-Snell places the Biblical text side by side to a playscript

…to show that although both are complete works, they nevertheless call for an in-the-flesh realization… she conceives of this enfleshed realization as taking place not only at the moment of performance but largely through personal commitment to the rehearsal process.

Khovaks goes on,

For the pilgrim, however, the journey is as important as the destination. Equally, one’s role in Christ, as much as it is given, nonetheless requires apprenticeship for learning to ‘put on Christ’, a life time’s rehearsal that will determine the quality of the end of performance.

Our society is so keen for us to reach the destination of self actualization that we belittle the journey of life. I believe, as a Christian pilgrim, that our destination is the eschatological performance in the resurrection where we will all take on the role of Christ. We will perform the character differently but in order to be faithful to that role we must be prepared to fully deny our own self. We will not achieve this fully until then. Until that point we can rehearse, trying to limit the times we slip out of character or exploring dead ends as we wrestle with what the character is or does.

What the riots have shown is that we are a society who have a fascination with pretending to be something we’re not. We are a society hiding from true reality. Many would say that being a Christian is to be blind to the truth/reality. The very nature of Christianity, for me, is the painful acknowledgement of reality and the hopeful path to living in reality. We have built a false reality and it is so complex and deeply set that we’re lost in it. Our basic need should not be to layer more stuff on us but the opposite of stripping back, allowing all that separates us and segregates us is to die.

The image of baptism is so important here; we are to be wrenched from this dream that we have constructed and look again at the reality outside. Outside our ‘self’ is seen as the statue of sand blown away in the wind of truth. The way to prosper and grow and live in true happiness is to clothe ourselves in Christ and allow that character to embed itself within us.

Believe me, there are several metaphorical cans of worms lined up in front of me but I will resist. Need to find a way to control the worms and structure them into my book… God, help me!

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!