Tag Archives: honesty

Theatre Church (part IV)

Mrs. Lunn has gone for a retreat at St James’ Hospital, a bi annual time of pampering and drugs! which leaves me home alone. After my deep disappointment as I woke looking at my wife’s empty pillow, I got up and had a quiet breakfast and headed out for a run. As I jogged around Durham and listening to music, I prayed about my placement; the big practical issue still needing prayer and discernment is the need for a regular space (see Theatre Church (part I) post) It’s important that the space is private and ‘holy’. I have spoken before about the need for preparation of space and it has been an issue to find a space which will enable and facilitate good and holy discussions without being a chapel or overly religious space.

I headed into college to pick up some things and on my way back home my route was blocked by builders and found myself heading towards the city centre. At the bottom of Palace Green the Salvation Army have recently opened up a ‘Boiler Room’ called ‘Sanctuary 21’ and I was compelled to go in and spend some more time praying about space. As I entered the ‘Prayer Room’ I discovered two people in the room chatting. They welcomed me in and we got chatting.

It turns out that the two people are Gary and Dawn Lacey who have been sent from Liverpool to set up a 24/7 prayer room in Durham. They have both been praying for two years about how to go about setting up and I was so impressed with the way the two of them have approached the whole process; spending every day in the Cathedral praying, making contacts with the churches in the area, listening to the needs of this city. They were keen not to storm into the city with ‘the latest thing’ and proclaim “we’ve got it!” Gary showed me round the facilities and I was so impressed. Having spent six years previously setting up a ‘Boiler Room’ in Liverpool, it would have been easy to come into Durham and replicate but Gary is sensitive to the particular needs of Durham. Yes, there are similarities about Sanctuary 21 and every other ‘Boiler Room’ but how best to serve this community and their needs. Gary wants to unite the different churches and their mission, so he isn’t doing ‘services’ or setting up a congregation or ‘sheep stealing’. He wants to bless all the churches and resource them with spaces to pray and worship and hold events for their church. He is also wanting to reach out to the students at night and help to support the Street Angels initiative.

Through our conversations I felt that familiar tug on the heart… was this the space? Gary showed me upstairs and told me that they were looking to hire out the space for people to use for prayer and events. I asked him whether he would be up for having a weekly workshop for students and he was positive. We discussed, briefly, how it may work and I became really excited. The space is light, airy and beginning to feel like a really holy place. I’m not sure if you’ve ever been into a place which feels ‘thin’? This place has that.

I need to pray and listen and ask God to open and close doors appropriately to lead me to where He wants us to go but this place already seems God lead; it’s central, it’s free, it’s filled with prayer and it’s private (as we would have the building to ourselves). Also, on a side note, it’s equipped for presentations and performances so it could also be a space, if we choose to create some product, to perform.

Unfortunately, I don’t have a timetable for next year yet so this all must wait. In the mean time, prayer… and now I have a place for that!

Death and Resurrection

I decided to train at Durham, not because of the beautiful and inspiring cathedral nor the excellent theological and academic study programme but because I wanted to go into a rough, working class setting and show myself how much of a spoilt middle class boy that I am; hence why I find myself nearing the end of my time in Byker, one of the most deprived areas of the country. I chose Byker as my Mission Study Block because of the reasons above. I knew nothing of the place itself except of the famous TV programme that spawned Ant and Dec.

As my colleagues and I walk around the estate and hear stories of community breakdown and regeneration project after regeneration project I am struck by how comfortable I feel here. Admittedly we are walking around during the day in the glorious sunshine but I’ve met some members of the residents here and they all seem nice enough. I would like to visit at night and walk the streets to see how the place changes but at the moment I don’t hear horror stories of rough neighbourhoods, I hear stories of isolated, disillusioned and disposed individuals trying to escape the situation they find themselves. Byker is a place where you get dumped; either as an asylum seeker or as one of the people who are not needed by society anymore.

The history of this estate is long and complicated but here’s my basic understanding of it:

It grew in the industrial revolution as the centre of the glass industry. All the accommodation was built to house the workers of the factories and the subsequent industry that filled Tyneside. Byker became a place where families grew up living together, everyone knowing everyone else; a real working class community. As time went on and industry came and went the housing began to look and feel dated and so it was decided that a revamp was in order. People moved out of their houses and the place was knocked down and the terrace houses were replaced. It was done in stages and people were moved and removed and, by the end of the last set of building works, the community was, as you can imagine, dispersed. Some returned but many couldn’t afford the new housing or didn’t want to uproot again. The housing became home to the only people who could afford them; those on benefits. The community was subject to many concepts and consultations from council and committees. Plans were thrown at these people but funding and planning permission all slipped through. What is left now is an area where no one has any hope, probably because they’ve had them broken so many times, where no one knows if they belong here because it’s not clear what ‘here’ is.

As the six students from Cranmer walk and talk lots of things are coming through and it wouldn’t be right for me to try and voice them all at once (I wouldn’t know how to sew them all together anyhow!) But one thing for me seems clear…

This is a place that needs a new story and I think we can find it in an old one. The story speaks of death and resurrection.

Parallel to my time in Byker I have continued to read ‘Organic community’ by Josef Myers. At almost every meeting and conversation I’m reminded of Myers thoughts on how communities are built and sustained and I’m struck by how much Byker has been failed by those who believed they were creating community. The councillors came into Byker with grand plans and ideas of how Byker should exist in post-industrial age. What’s the problem with that?

Some quotes from ‘Organic Community’ may help,

‘people are not primarily looking to co operate with our plan for their lives.’

‘Organic community is not a product, not an end result. Organic community – belonging – is a process… it is not the product of community that we are looking for. It is the process of belonging that we long for.’

We love to fix things, don’t we? Why? I suggest we are all scared of failure. We idolise success, we are told, again and again, that we need to reach excellence, personal bests and achievements. If you don’t attain what you set out to do then you are weak and dependant on those who have. Our society is structured so that those who succeed give support to those who haven’t ‘made it’.

The situation in Byker is so complicated I can’t go into it all now but the impression I get is that the rebuilding and all the subsequent regeneration projects that have taken place have been master plans of fixing the ‘issues’ of Byker. Good willed people trying to bring life to this community by papering over cracks and thrusting false hope into a community hungry for some light.

‘Dying to live’

This is the phrase that’s been buzzing round my head as I reflect on the situation in Byker. What follows is only an impression and my reflections. To believe that i have the answer is foolish and naive but I have been hearing and seeing some profound things and I’d like to share them in the hope that they may be of some help.

The church of St Michael’s is a group of people who have moved from their building to a shop front and they don’t know whether they’ll ever return to the empty shell on the hill and if they do what happens to the shop front? How can they invest in a space they don’t know if they’re keeping? The church of St Anthony’s is a group of people who find themselves in a ‘fortress’, fenced in and separate from an evolving resident community not willing to let go of relatively superficial factors. What are they holding on to and why? These are communities that need to embrace death, knowing trusting in God who has conquered death!

This imagery of death and resurrection is everywhere.

The church of St Martin’s has experienced a death of their building; it has been taken down, every brick, and replaced by a community centre which doubles up as a worship space. A wonderful concept but this has come with some great heart ache. This community experienced a death of an old way of identifying themselves. They are now in a new stage. I feel like God is leading them through death into resurrection hope.

St Michael’s are in an Easter Saturday moment. All around them is uncertainty and ‘death’; death of a building, of their identity, of cohesion. The last thing they need is human beings giving them a metaphorical plaster to ‘make it better’. They need God’s power to bring about resurrection. They need to be reminded that in God we have hope and it is only in trusting in Him that His power is made perfect in weakness.

The Byker community, at large, needs to hear this story as well. That, in Christ, death is a victory, that it is only Christ who can turn failure into hope. Unfortunately, as I look around Byker, I see death and then human beings trying to imitate resurrection. John Sadler, vicar at St Michael’s, suggested that ‘regeneration’ is like ‘resurrection’ and I would agree with him. The impression I get, however, is that this ‘resurrection’ plan is more the work of man than of God. Yes, God will use it but I don’t feel the power that brought Christ back from the dead is at work in some for the regeneration work that is going on. At St Martin’s there is a tangible hope in and around the ‘St Martin’s Centre’ and I put it down to the faith of their new Centre manager and the relationship she has with the vicar. This partnership, a long with the congregation there, are actively seeking God’s power to bring resurrection to this community. At Kid’s Kabin, in Walker, Catholic nuns pray and discern God’s will seeking to follow where He leads them, knowing that it is only this way that will bring new life. I have seen in other areas well meaning people try and create new life without God. Yes they have some success but there lacks any meaningful hope. What they produce is resuscitation not resurrection… temporary not eternal.

What is it Byker needs? Real Hope. How will they find this? I believe in modelling the gospel message of resurrection. “Show us Christ risen again!” We show them through real new life like the one modelled in Kids Kabin and proclaim God’s marvellous works. We show them community centres like St Martin’s when God has brought about real powerful resurrection in community.

Byker needs to be helped to embrace death, in its many forms, and be shown hope of resurrection. The Church in Byker needs to be reminded of resurrection hope, the heart of our faith. They need to be encouraged to remember what we have to offer that no one else does, eternal life in resurrection hope.

This isn’t the most clear and concise explanation but I hope you can hear my excitement for this area. I know God has the power to breathe life into Byker. I have seen His power working but I also can feel darkness trying to get in.

I pray for the Christian community in Byker for the courage to stand up and proclaim from the rooftops and in every alley way of the estate,

“Christ is risen. He is risen indeed!”

Monasticism and Asceticism (part I)

I want to begin by reminding myself of something said in the sermon by our college chaplain on Tuesday night; As church leaders we are the most at risk of temptation to boast of spiritual achievements (see 2 Corinthians 12). Having said that I will add that I tell you about the intense couple of days I have just had, not to boast, but to share and document what God was saying to me through the experience.

Now that disclaimer has been issued…

‘The Monastic Ball of Intensity’ (T.M.B.I.)(see Wrestling With Truth (part III)) and I have talked for some months now about reading Isaiah straight through out loud; we wanted to listen to the whole narrative as it flows. As the term went on and things filled our diaries, we found ourselves in the last weeks with very little time during the day to take on this exercise. We decided that it would be ‘cool’ to do it at night and ‘up the stakes’. As we talked about it the descriptive words used by both of us became less ‘interesting, useful’ and more ‘endurance, intense, hardcore, ascetic’ and we started to run away with ideas of doing an all night spiritual marathon with prayers and disciplines added on.

The final decision was: after the college communion on Tuesday night we would do Compline (Night Prayer) and start at chapter one. We would take alternate chapters and/or rotate through whoever came and joined us. We would light some candles and have a simple cross to help our focus but the main task was to listen and digest the words of ‘the great prophet’. We would stay up all night and fast in the chapel as we read and when we came to the end of Isaiah we would decide on another prophet (perhaps Ezekiel) and read through until we got to about 6.00am when we would read Morning prayer and prepare ourselves for a quiet day on Holy Island, organised by our college for the students.

And so at 10pm on Tuesday T.M.B.I., myself and three other students sat in chapel and said Compline together by candle light. We then went straight into Isaiah, chapter 1, verse 1: ‘The vision concerning Judah and Jerusalem that Isaiah son of Amoz…’

During the evening we stopped and prayed for different things, we repeated verses that struck us as important, we knelt in quiet meditation. People came and went and by chapter 40 it was T.M.B.I. and I, one kneeling the other reading. The whole experience was intense, amazing and exhilarating. The sleep deprivation, although visible in my eyes was not felt in my spirit. I was buzzing as we head into the final chapters. God’s presence was so tangible; one person who joined said that as he walked in the place was heavy with holiness… but I’m heading too close to boasting of my experience.

At 2.30am, we had completed Isaiah and moved to our common room to reflect on what we felt God saying through the reading. The only word I could use was ‘relentless’. Isaiah, gives you no break from the anger of God, the passion for His people and, through it all, His almighty mercy. Hope is splattered through the whole book but always the background of depravity and darkness; specks of light break through blackness. T.M.B.I. commented on the ineffability of the text, all we can truly hold is the emotional response to the ‘relentless’ narrative of this relationship of God and his people. We were all struck, I think, by the importance of repentance for sin, not to cheapen grace and forgiveness and, most importantly, not to tame God! What does confession of sin and repentance look like in a theatre setting? I have some ideas already brimming, need to capture the truth of them…

T.M.B.I. went to bed after an hour and a half of chatting and I went back and read Acts, a perfect complement to Isaiah. I was struck by the Spirit (which I will not speak of) and it came as a drenching after an academic year where I have rarely been fed as deeply. When it got to 5.30am I started Morning Prayer, alone in the chapel.

Afterwards, I went, got washed and changed and went to meet a group of guys who I have prayed with over this year. I was flying, it was amazing… I can hardly describe it. The prayer session was fantastic and I’m so grateful for those guys who have supported and ministered to me and for whom have allowed me to support them in times of vulnerability.

And then on to Holy Island…

The home of St Cuthbert, ‘Durham’s Saint’, for many years, Lindisfarne is a place that knows monasticism! After a brief reflection in the church there I went for a solitary walk to some beach. As I sat I asked God to speak and sum up what happened the previous night. I was drawn to Peter Brooks’ chapter on Holy Theatre in ‘The Empty Space’ which now lives, again, constantly in my bag. He writes,

‘he himself was always speaking of a complete way of life, of a theatre in which the activity of the actor and the activity of the spectator were driven by the same desperate need… Artaud applied is Artaud betrayed: betrayed because it is always just a portion of his thought that is exploited, betrayed because it is easier to apply rules to the work of a handful of dedicated actors than to the lives of the unknown spectators who happen by chance to come through the theatre door.’

What a powerful way of describing the work of any prophet. I sat and thought about what I had heard the night before from Isaiah. ‘Isaiah applied is Isaiah betrayed’ for the exact same reason as it was for Artaud. Brook also says,

‘…maybe the power of his vision is that it is the carrot in front of our nose, never to be reached.’

I’m not sure about the ‘never to be reached’, in Isaiah’s case, but certainly not within the limitations of this fallen world. Isaiah’s vision is always out of reach in completion but that we grasp one thing and then another thing is brought into focus. I shared this thought with T.M.B.I. and he came out with a gem only he could say,

‘That’s why we have to stay mad!’

I wonder if he knew Artaud as the man who died with one shoe in his hand, in an asylum?

That would be a nice completion of my post today but… in true Isaiah fashion I will carry on!

As I stood on Cuthbert’s Island, a little clump of land which becomes an island at high tide, I heard the seals wailing. The sound was so powerful. It sounded like the screams of demons or of a damage generation. High on sleep deprivation and coming off an epic reading of the prophet, I imagined Cuthbert stood in prayer hearing the seals wailing, in the distance the mainland. What a powerful prayer tool! God called me to pray for this country and the emotional screams that echo through our land. I desperately wanted something to have as a reminder of that meeting with God and I went into the shops to buy some memento… it was all tat!

Hope was at hand. Friends of mine were making a visit to the Northumbria Community and I was keen to have a look at this way of life and to buy some spiritual aid. I have heard so much about this community over the last year and was intrigued about the nomadic nature of the community and how we, in the theatre world may use the framework.

When we arrived it was a lovely farmhouse, homely and welcoming. The people were awesome and very hospitable, which is good because it’s part of their Rule. I looked at their prayers and studied the literature they use and was dissatisfied. For me (and it is a very personal thing!) their liturgy and the focus of the community was a little too ‘hippy’ for me, too alternative. If anyone has gone to Greenbelt before and found some of the religious stuff too ‘60s love and peace’ then this place is not a religious home for you. Having said that, the welcome and peace around the house is wonderful and I can see, if you want a place to rest, then this is ideal. I just wouldn’t be signing up to read their Morning Prayer every day with a very earthy and ‘hippy’ mentality. This all sounds cruel, it’s not! I can’t describe what it is about the literature I saw but I accepted it wasn’t for me, although I would praise the theory behind it. The work of this community is important and, for others, will be a real home, but for me it isn’t.

What then of a monastic styled community for the theatre? What of a rhythm of prayer for actors who travel (see Riding Lights Theatre Church post)? I have started a conversation with a Fransican friend of mine, we shall call her ‘The Mother’ (not sure what she’d say to that but she has a great maternal instinct and it has slight religious connotations!). She follows the Fransican Rule and as I spoke to her this morning she spoke about the ‘fool for Christ’. I will speak more to ehr about it before offering embryonic thoughts…

How to end in Isaiah fashion? Chapter 66, verse 23 and 24:

‘“From one New Moon to another and from one Sabbath to another, all mankind will come and bow down before me,” says the LORD. “And they will go out and look upon the dead bodies of those who rebelled against me; their worm will not die, nor will their fire be quenched, and they will be loathsome to all mankind.”’

Relentless, isn’t it?

Theatre Church (part III)

As things start to fall into place with my placement and the boundaries are marked up to protect myself and those who will be involved, I’m starting to ask a question of this blog.

How much do I journal the progress of this community?

The internet is a public space and, although, looking over to how many followers I have, I see not many people read this; the people who will be involved deserve privacy and confidentiality.

What then will the purpose of the blog be?

Why did I start writing? To journal my thought journey as I wrestled with what God wanted me to do. This has been really helpful to help me reflect on my ministry and on the shaping of the placement next year. The reason for making this a public journal was to try and gather other people’s views and ideas and allow those to shape me as well. This has also been really helpful. I have had chats with people about things raised in my blog which have helped me to fine tune my thoughts and ideas, that have encouraged me and discouraged me from going off on the wrong path.

Do I still need to journal my thoughts in a public space? Certainly the theological reflections on theatre in ministry still require other people’s perspectives and suggestions for further reading, etc. The placement cannot, however, remain public, due to the sensitive issue of protecting those involved. But there will be times when the activity and development or the struggles and disasters of the community next year will need reflection and I will need those chats with people to help me through.

This is raises questions about the nature of blogging. I don’t want this space to be me advertising everything that’s going on in my life but rather a space where I can communicate and mark where my reflections on theatre and ministry are up to. I need, therefore, to make sure that this space (the blog) is restricted to ambiguous and theological reflections, be that inspired from lectures or books or videos or whatever or inspired from the community next year. This is not a space where I publish all the news and personal journeys of those involved in the community.

Undergirding this questions, as well, is the thought of people involved in the community will be able to, if they look for it, to read these posts. Although nothing is hidden from them and they will be aware of my approach and purposes, is not a bit weird that they will have access to my hopes and fears and personal reflections? Is that a bad thing?

I wrote a couple of sentences for my tutor to have that will help him and I understand the aims of next year’s placement. Here it is:

To create a community in which its members can explore their story and ask questions of faith in a safe, vulnerable space through theatre and character exploration. To meet twice a week and direct them through a yearlong rehearsal process and produce public performances that do not mark the end of a process but mark the journey on its way.

If I am creating a space that is safe and vulnerable, yes I will need to keep issues private but they will need honesty, vulnerability and openness from me. This leads us nicely to what I think is at the heart of this question; is there a need for leaders to hide pain and brokenness from those they are leading? The leaders I respect most are those who communicate honesty and integrity but if they disclose too much then they, somehow, lose respect for me, they lose power in the relationship and then it’s harder for them to lead or discipline. Can you, as a leader, be honest and vulnerable around those you are leading?

I’ll leave you with that and ask that you take your right to comment and shape my thinking.