Tag Archives: Organic

Stability

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Suscipiendus autem in oratorio coram omnibus promittat de stabilitate sua et conversatione morum suorum et oboedientia.

Upon admission, in the oratory, before all, he is to make a promise to stability, conversion (of behaviour/morals/life) and obedience,

For me the Rule of St. Benedict is a guiding document for the balanced life of discipleship, whether you take vows or not. As the New Monastic movement evolves and emerges I am finding it interesting to observe the different commitments and the different Rules that are being lived out. I wonder whether there might be room for a generally accepted shape to the life of New Monastics (in contrast to the traditional monastic life) whilst giving space for contextual charisms and callings to be expressed too. I wonder whether there are some key principles around which different communities can gather and be shaped by and for the living out of those principles to be changeable to assist the different expressions across the country/world.

What follows is a hypothetical outworking of potentially using the phrases used in St Benedict’s Rule; the vow to stability, conversion and obedience.

Stability

The famous vows to ‘poverty, chastity and obedience’ are not explicit in the Rule of St. Benedict but the seed for these vows can be seen in St. Benedict’s choice of vows to ‘stability, conversatio murum and obedience’. I have already spelt out a possible correlation between these two sets of vows. In my framework stability is akin to chastity.

Stability is about faithfulness, commitment in relationship. This is absolutely key in living out a counter cultural life in a world where individual freedom is increasingly the central tenet in our society. Committing to another person or people no matter what comes with the baggage of historical examples of cults, abusive relationships, etc. and so is shied away from or seen negatively. Relationships are increasingly seen as good things until they ask you to hand over personal freedom.

Our society has a big problem with relationships. The whole topic is confused with different socio-political and philosophical wordlviews using the same language to describe completely different concepts. How Scripture describes loving relationships and covenants is very different to our view of more contractual, secular view of relationships and add to that the capitalist, consumer, neo-liberal and liberal political philosophy into the mix and it is no surprise that marriage and sexuality are such explosive conversations at the moment.

The English Benedictines released a very good video recently outlining the life of Benedictine monks. In the first part of this video Dom. Alexander Bevan discusses stability. He says,

In the first place, monastic consecration involves ‘stability’; persevering in the monastic life in a particular community. Stability, here, is connected to the people rather than to the place. (Dom. Alexander Bevan, To Prefer Nothing to Christ Part 1 – Consecration, English Benedictines, https://vimeo.com/153230237)

This commitment to others, persevering with them despite pain and heartache is picked up by Brian C. Taylor. I am indebted to Taylor for his insights into these Benedictine vows. On stability, he writes,

The Benedictine vow of stability is a vow to a community of people… In this sense it is a marriage…The grass is not greener “over there”: one must work out one’s problems with this person because, if one doesn’t, one will have to work it out with that person. This is precisely what is so freeing about the vow of stability, both in monastic life and family life. To have to work it out is to demand growth, as painful as it is, and that is freeing. Faithfulness is a limit that forces us to stop running and encounter God, self, and other right now, right here. (Brian C. Taylor, Spirituality For Everyday Living: an adaptation of the rule of St. Benedict (Minnesota: The Liturgical Press, 1989) p.17)

There is some richness in referring to a married partner as ‘the ball and chain’ (Sorry Mrs. Lunn!) because on a spiritual level that is what they are. Being bound to that person with no escape route is what gives the freedom outlined above. Yes, life-time commitments are incredibly risky; rife with potential pain and abuse. I’m not painting married life as glorious technicolour. There is an overly romantic vision of marriage which, although no one admits to agreeing with, still shapes our expectations.

There is a similar romantic vision of the monastic life which many see New Monastics as inhabiting. I’ve been told that what I want is ‘to have my cake and eat it’. There is the suggestion that those of us discovering this new monastic call are implanting a subjective, consumerist approach to the monastic life; choosing for ourselves the parts we like and are comfortable with and disregarding or reinterpreting the parts we don’t. This is a fair concern and one that I have wrestled with over the last six years.

All I know is that for me, I see the life discovered by the monastic saints of old and outlined in the Rule of St. Benedict and others as the stimulus for the holy life of discipleship. I am convinced that Dietrich Bonhoeffer, in his prison cell, began to see what St Odo, St Bernard, Martin Luther and many others saw as the failings of the monastic life (cut off and divorced from ordinary life) and the continued potential of that same life (deep discipleship and transformation). I believe that his unfinished book that he was working on at the point of his execution was an exploration and teaching on birthing a new ecclesiology and, therefore, a new missiology for a post war world.

The commitment to seek stability is rooted in the knowledge that we humans balk at pain and heartache. We learn and train ourselves to accept it as part of life and avoid it. The Church of England is learning to live out commitment and stability in a world crying out for more schisms, polarisation and chaos. The recent decision by the Primates a few weeks ago was another example at how trying to work out commitment and faithfulness in pain and heartache is met with frustration by our culture. The alternative was to choose sides and divide. A vow to stability is about disagreeing well and in humility.

Practical

So what might stability look like in different contexts across the New Monastic Movement?

I want to try and contain these suggestions into broad categories: sodal, modal and nodal categories. I won’t be outlining what it looks like in traditional monastic communities as they will know how they do that!

Sodal

Sodality comes from the Latin root, Sodalis. This can be translated comrade, or using other words, all of which suggest closeness and active partnership: companion, associate, mate, crony, accomplice, conspirator, are all listed. Sodalitas was used for social and politics associations; religious fraternities; electioneering gangs (an interesting take on mission); and guilds. (Church Army, “Why Modality and Sodality thinking is vital understand future church”, 5th January 2016, http://www.churcharmy.org.uk/Publisher/File.aspx?ID=138339)

Sodal communities ask for an explicit commitment. They are communities made up of people who share a passion or desire to work on a particular task and forge new things. In religious terms they are usually spirituality and/or missional groups. Usually sodal communities are task orientated. This is not to say that there is no emphasis on relationships with others; in fact, most of these communities are highly relational but there is a purpose around which they gather.

Stability within these have been, on the whole, self-enforcing. People commit because they want to and that commitment is taken very seriously and is tested before entry to it happens. When there is a breakdown of relationship, however, people can move and many do. Some stay but become more task-orientated and there is space for that within many sodal communities. Those that leave can be tempted to set up a new expression of the community, either taking the name and visionary principles just with different people, or create their own association where they can have more autonomy and/or correct mistakes of the original group.

A vow to stability would fit neatly into many of these gatherings and would challenge members at the point of relationship breakdown. In order to limit the community with enforced stability, a group would need to adopt reconcilers/facilitators who will help to heal the pain and difficulties brought about in tough pastoral situations. The practice would need to be worked out within the group contextually.
The entry to these groups would change, no doubt, if the vow to stability was adopted. Not everyone is comfortable or ready for this level of commitment and so noviciate/discernment phases would need to be included. These processes will already be present in sodal groups and the explicit vow to stability would encourage sodal groupings not subtly morph into more modal expressions of community.

Modal

Modality comes from the root word mode. This in turn refers to the customary way things are done. One might say it is the default position, or prevailing fashion or custom. Mathematically modal is the greatest frequency of occurrences in a given set, and there is a corresponding sense socially that it is the most common way things are…Modal church tends to make minimal demands upon its members.(ibis.)

In Anglican terms, the parish is the modal community. Modal communities primarily sustain what is there. The comparison between Petrine and Pauline ecclesiology aptly depicts the difference between modal (Peter and Jerusalem Church) and sodal (Paul and Missionary Church). The Fresh Expressions Network is made up of sodal communities and they are now seeking to connect them into modal communities. It is this marrying together that many are suspicious and cautious of. At the heart of this disconnect, I think, is a feeling from sodal communities that modal communities are maintaining the status quo which is no longer sufficient at evangelising and spreading the gospel. There may be some truth in that view but it is by no means completely accurate. many modal communities are proving to be good soil for new converts and transformation of life.

The truth is many sodal communities are becoming modal as they seek to sustain the initial impetus of their grouping even if it was some ten or fifteen years ago. There is great pressure to continually change and reinvent to keep that novelty energy going and so many formalise and become modal. Likewise, many modal communities, in desperation to remain relevant and competing with the fervour of sodal alternatives adopt many sodal practices. Whereas sodal looks to conversion for church growth, modal looks at organic church growth through maintaining families and/or relying on people moving to the area and joining.

Stability within the modal (mainly parish) is more tricky. Modal is almost defined by the soft edge, non-explicit commitment of members. I would argue that my exploration into Parish Monasticism has unearthed the need for more sodal practices to be adopted whilst maintaining the historic and strength of modality. It is the balancing of these that I am advocating. More conversation would be needed about how to adopt these structures whilst not losing the heart of parish mission and ministry. How do you develop an explicit, committed core without excluding visitors and spiritual seekers? This is already being wrestled with in most parishes. Could the monastic life not help discern possible solutions with the use of vows/aspirations?

Nodal
Nodal communities are hubs/ connecting groups. In many ways the New Monastic Movement is looking at becoming nodal and bringing together different groups. In this sense what has been discussed above fits in here as both modal and sodal gather into nodal groupings.

Stability for nodals is about commitment to dialogue and respect. Like the Anglican Communion Worldwide this not about centralising power but about relating and supporting one another. To be connectors, however, there will need to be arbitration policies in place to protect against disagreements and divisions but this is where a shared Rule of Life, allowing space for unique expressions to be worked out contextually whilst holding together in commonality.

Stability for religious nodal communities must come from a deep understanding of the Trinity. Stanley Hauerwas’ trinitarian ethics is key, I feel, to expressing a way forward for the New Monastic movement in this country. Using John Milbank’s view, set out in ‘Theology and Social Theory’, Hauerwas sates,

the Christian faith owes no allegiance to the idea of the univocity of Being, which can only uphold difference coercively and violently, but is instead moved by a trinitarian understanding of God, an absolute that is itself difference, inclusive of all difference, and thus able to affirm difference in a peaceful manner. (Stanley Hauerwas, Performing the Faith: Bonhoeffer and the practice of nonviolence (London: SPCK, 2004) p. 87)

We should not fear homogenising the different missional communities by bringing them together under one umbrella grouping. If the said grouping is explicitly trinitarian in its understanding of membership then difference can be contained within it but there needs to be a singularity in Being as well. For me the vow to stability enables the discovery of that mystery to happen because inhabiting the life of the Holy Trinity is going to involve suffering.

Where Next?

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Suscipiendus autem in oratorio coram omnibus promittat de stabilitate sua et conversatione morum suorum et oboedientia.

Upon admission, in the oratory, before all, he is to make a promise to stability, conversion (of behaviour/morals/life) and obedience,

I have been joined, as I have journeyed through the Rule of St Benedict, by increasing numbers of companions whose path happens to meet with mine and/or mine with theirs. Some of them have made commitments to particular monastic houses in different traditions, others are parish ministers who seek deeper community and discipleship within that service and others are those exploring what has come to be known as ‘New Monastic’ communities.

The New Monastic movement in Britain is a loose collection of groups who have identified a desire for more intentional community than that which is offered through traditional forms of church gathering. There is no stringent entry policy to this ‘network’/movement; it is better seen as an association. Even when a group identifies themselves in the category of ‘new monasticism’ it doesn’t bind you to another group who have also chosen to name themselves as such. In this way the movement remains self governing and flexible.

It works… sort of.

Accountability is covered for most of these groups through independent means but is not enforceable. Communities should seek to have an outsider to oversee or converse with the community to ensure safeguarding of its members and that relationships remain healthy as the group grows and evolves together. These relationships are based on trust and so the selection of a spiritual companion for a community can be a risky one.

The connection between individual groups and communities is a free choice. A group can, if they choose, be independent and get on with doing what they’re doing and being what they’re being without interaction with another group (many do). This choice, however, can lead to a sense of isolation and/or blind egotism, not to mention the spending of energy re-inventing of the metaphorical wheel! Many want to learn from others and become acutely aware of the challenges that face intentional community. At these times they reach out and discover the joy of journeying with others who share something of what they are living through.

Again, these relationships between groups/communities are self-selecting and so carry with them potential dangers. The concern I have is that of the blind leading the blind when there are communities that, although still learning and emerging, have journeyed terrain before and so can steer with wisdom and experience.

At the heart of my concern around the New Monastic movement is that we want to remain connected with the world in some areas of our life but not in others and we want to remain in control and choose the sacrifices and changes we experience. The sacrifice of the community is self selecting to suit our individual needs and what we think is right for us. Are we falling short of the ultimate hurdle which distinguishes a normal life and the monastic life? Does New Monasticism encourage people to remain individualistic consumers whilst giving the impression that we’re living radically different lifestyles? Do we just want to be different?

I’m more than aware that we all have unique vocations due to what God wants of us in our different contexts, with our personalities and experiences. Some of us are ready and blessed to be called to traditional monastic life in the different traditions. Some of us are called to that way of life but find ourselves in families and relationships which also seem to be permanent. Some of us are called to ordained ministry and some form of more intentional life. There seems to be several different shapes and models emerging all naming themselves something slightly different in order to distinguish themselves. ‘Missional Communities’, ‘Hubs’, ‘Home Groups’, ‘Organic Communities’, ‘Parish Monasticism’, ‘New Monasticism’, or any other unique name for a group who have a particular shape and call on its members. Some would say,

It works… sort of.

Discipleship and mission must be contextual. Where you find yourself must impact how you live out your faith and mission. The Holy Spirit calls us to particular tasks at particular times in particular places but the source of strength and call must remain fixed in the same God. Although the expression of faith has adapted to different cultures and language the faith remains steadfast. It is the tension between the rootedness of tradition and the fresh expressions of faith and mission which keeps a sense of life. A balanced life is one lived in tension.

I am an advocate of uniting all these different expressions of discipleship and community and I know that many others disagree. I can see that there may be some who feel uncomfortable ‘pinning down’ or ‘fencing in’ these exciting, new discoveries. ‘Organic’ and ‘adaptable’ keeps the thing streamlined and efficient, able to move to new places but I am extremely cautious about this view. It strikes me that there’s an addiction to novelty and being different. Maybe I’m being too cynical but is there not still an ‘attractional’ mindset underneath this approach to move with the times and the people we want to connect and bring into the group/community?

I agree that the Spirit blows where it will and the Church has suffered by its slowness to catch up with God. I agree that definition can exclude some who might have otherwise moved further in if they were encouraged to, or rather if they were not discouraged by boundaries. I agree that most communities who identify with this ‘monastic’ call, whatever that means for them, remain fragile and embryonic. And I totally agree that the reason traditional church doesn’t work for increasing numbers of people is because of our culture’s anxiety, fear and disapproval of institution.

It still comes down, for me, however, to a desperate need for the gospel to challenge individualistic consumer culture and not collude with it. Structure and framework is needed for a sense of security and refuge. It is not sustainable to constantly live in uncertainty, risk and vulnerability; we need shelter, even if it is just a tent which is moveable.

This is why I have found reflecting on the use of tents in the Bible encouraging. Tents give people a resting place in a landscape of wilderness. Tents are used as ‘home’ when you are being called to be nomadic. Tents give you the space to feel safe when the rest of your life is danger and risk. Paul uses this image to describe our earthly bodies on earth and to encourage us to see ourselves as belonging to another place.

I have shared before this prophetic picture someone once saw for me of a mountain goat living in rocky terrain, barren and wild. The words that accompanied that picture were, “You were built for this terrain.” I often find myself in spiritual wilderness, barrenness. I find myself in conflict and rough seas. When I do find a settled place, a place of comfort, I get uncomfortable. I thrive in the wild but even I need times of peace and rest. I survive but in a different way to how the sheep of the green pasture survive down in the valley.

I was reading Psalm 104 last week and then a verse sprang out as an encouragement for me,

The high mountains are for the wild goats; the rocks are a refuge for the coneys. (Psalm 104:18)

What struck me was I was built for one context which is not shared for others but I still need refuge and places to recuperate. Graham Cray, ex-bishop of Fresh Expressions UK, when I shared this picture with him told me to hold onto the monastic practices to sustain that call to those contexts.

The Church is in exile; divorced from mainstream culture. The passionate discussions over calling the last Fresh Expressions’ Conference ‘From Margins to Mainstream’ focussed many people’s concern on where do we want to see ourselves. Some like being margin, periphery dwellers, others like to be anywhere but ‘boring mainstreamers’, some like the comfort of the known and others are anxious but uncertainty. Whatever is mainstream for one is margin for another; it depends on where you’re standing and how you see yourself.

I am one who finds himself, more often than not, in isolated viewpoints. I don’t fit. This always runs dangerously close to my obsession with being different and contrary and I am on constant watch to not fall into that trap. I know that is part of where God must hold me close and is part of my spiritual practices.

Rules of life are meant to be way markers not straight-jackets. I have explored different rules of life and studied the charisms of different communities what fascinates me and excites me is that despite being different they share similar central calls; they name them different things but they’re essentially the same. I’m talking about principles or virtues they live by not the practices they perform. Ian Mobsby and the Moot Community named these principles, ‘postures’.

I wonder what might happen if we acknowledged together, a sense that the monastic call is commitment to ‘stability, conversion and obedience’ (words used by St Benedict in chapter 58 of his Rule)? Some may want to interpret them as the traditional vows of ‘chastity, poverty and obedience’ but I see them as interchangeable.

Stability

A desire to remain rooted somewhere or with someone; no matter what the spiritual weather is like, no matter what temptations afflict you, you stay and remain faithful.

Conversion

A desire to change, to turn away, step by step, from the things of this world to the Kingdom of God. To seek, in different circumstances and in different ways, to become more and more Christ-like, poor and dependant on God.

Obedience

A desire to place yourself under the decisions of something or someone else. To seek to curb that deeply human temptation to be in control of ourselves and our decisions; to hold onto the power in or own lives.

Over the next few weeks I want to develop this motif and offer some potential suggestions how, in different contexts, disciples can adopt these three shared vows whilst remaining contextual and flexible in practice.

Chapter 40: drink apportionment

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”Everyone has his proper gift from God, one this, another thus” (1 Cor. 7:7)”

How do we welcome whilst teaching?

Last week we reflected on sharing and how, if we looked at our points of excess, be it food, money, whatever, then this seemingly impossible task of fairly distributing resources may become easier. This week, we read the same principle is to be taken with drink as it did with food and monks should consume in moderation. St. Benedict points out his awareness that in some religious orders, alcohol is forbidden but for his community (in Italy!) wine was a cultural drink; it’s like telling Russians they can’t drink vodka!

What we see here is not a blanket refusal for all things that are potentially harmful but a reliance on common sense. The Church, throughout history, has struggled with controlling its members’ destructive behaviours and have erred, at times, into overly strict control of all to help the few. We can think of the Puritans who saw some dangers in excessive frivolity, which on rare occasions led to sexual immorality; their response was to cut all frivolity and fun from everyone to protect against potential sexual immorality.

Discipline is difficult to police: one can be too heavy handed or not directive enough. Some people struggle with substance abuse, while others find certain situations difficult to control their anger. We can easily fall into the trap of thinking the way to help is to have a tight control on what is permitted and what is not. In order that some do not feel picked out the ‘ban’ becomes generalised and anti-productive for those who can remain disciplined in the specific situations. The church then becomes a place where there’s a lot of ‘you can’t’s and we spend more time policing the rules rather than worship and prayer.

In our current cultural climate, however, I see the opposite danger being played out. In response to a Victorian, over-bearing, clear cut, black/white mentality when it comes to moral righteousness; there is a lasez-faire approach to ethics and morality. In our desire to be ‘inclusive’ and ‘welcoming’ we reject any ‘barriers’ or demands put upon people who come through our door. We struggle to set behavioural rules out of fear we will be seen as judgemental or moralistic. We look at our fore-bearers and see a strictness and we want to set ourselves apart from them.

The problem with this approach is that we have missed out on a third way of managing temptation and behaviours. St. Benedict never shies away from enforcing expectations and demanding everything from the monks in his community but these ‘rules’ are focussed on principles and character rather than on practicalities. Leadership and spiritual guidance is less about dictating the pragmatic things we can and can’t do, policies and guidelines which must be followed to the letter and more about the general climate in which virtues are nourished.

If we take alcohol as an example. There are some who struggle to drink alcohol in moderation. The causes for this differ from one person to another and so it is hard to produce specific guidelines that all will find helpful all of the time. If, however, you see guidelines more about establishing a direction for transformation of character rather than prescribing detailed pragmatic actions then they can protect all people whilst enabling flexibility within it. Instead of saying, for example,

No one is to drink alcohol because it could, for some, lead to temptation to excessive drunkenness and violent behaviour.

We could write,

We want to encourage one another to be reliant on God and to be aware of His direction of us at each moment. Alcohol, when drunk excessively, hinders us from being obedient to God’s call. Therefore, alcohol must be drunk with care and consideration. If another is deemed to be drinking excessively, those in authority are to care for them by removing the temptation from them. It maybe appropriate, after the effects of the alcohol has worn off, for the leaders to discuss the reasons for their drunkenness to see if there is a way in which they can be encouraged to remain sober for the Lord.

The skill St. Benedict shows in his Rule is to have a clear endpoint in sight: the final judgement. Everyone in his community signs up to being transformed and changed, each day into the likeness of Christ. To be a part of the community is to commit to the hard work of discipleship which asks us to work out our salvation with fear and trembling. Drunkenness and excessive behaviour in any context is a distraction from prayer and character formation and therefore is enforced not by specifics but under the general encouragement to a life of discipleship.

In order to develop a distinctive culture of discipleship a community needs to be clear as to their priorities. These are not pragmatic step by step things; it is about the ultimate end goal. The Church has this set out in Jesus Christ. The vision for each congregation is the same: to seek God in our whole life, to intentionally invite the Holy Spirit to transform us from our old selves, into new creation, through obedience to prayer, study, dialogue and worship and to live as part of God’s distinctive Kingdom in the world. All pragmatic decisions and policies must encourage each disciple to participate in this work and that will require one thing for one member and another thing for the next but the direction is the same.

There are many who are taking down the Church’s specific demands placed on people’s behaviours to encourage them to become part of the Church or to at least see the Church as relevant and in line with the culture we live in but in doing so have thrown the metaphorical baby out with the bathwater. We have misunderstood the heart of the rules and guidelines. We have rejected the teaching wholesale and we have ignored Jesus who demands everything. Jesus asks those who would follow him to leave their livelihoods, families, their safety and security; in fact he asks us to die to ‘self’ in order to be his disciples. He does not ask this of everyone but for those who he calls to ministry. There is a difference between the expectation and attitude Jesus has to the crowd and the expectations he has on his disciples and he is clear on the distinction.

Are you a member of the crowd or a disciple?

A disciple is expected to work, to change, to learn to live obediently to the challenge of the life of Christ but the reward is great. The crowd only sees a glimpse of the Kingdom but remain enslaved to the world until they make their own commitment to discipleship.

As a theatre director I directed actors, not by telling them precisely where to stand and how to speak but rather by keeping my eyes fixed on the principles by which we agreed to work and the character the actor was trying to perform. There were some general things which were fixed and to move away from them, even slightly, would be a distraction. Within this framework the actors were more free to play and discover. It is a paradox that artists appreciate more than others; if you want to be more creative, put up more guidelines. A musician returns to the scales for this reason, the painter primes the canvas, the actor studies the character/play. Discipline and obedience are key to developing as an artist and the same is true of disciples.

Reflection

We can all agree that we need to create the right climate for discipleship to take place but there is a difference of approaches as to how to achieve it. For some it is about setting the right pragmatic actions. They work on each step and encourage people to achieve one after the other in an order. As each step of change is difficult to take people get caught up in the mechanics of those single step and our sights are reduced to a few manageable steps ahead. When difficultly strikes it is hard to discern what to do next and the choices as to which step to take in order to move forward becomes a complex and cloudy.

The alternative is to to set the momentum and the direction of the journey. You don’t need to know each step in advance but you know the trajectory. This means your head is up and some steps are made without even thinking about it. There is a momentum which drives people on. There will be times when you go off course but at different moments there will be a leader who raises everyone’s head to fix their eyes on the horizon not yet reached.

This frees the community of the Church from setting specific mundane requirements on its people and frees them to discern for themselves, within the framework of the community ethos, what they need to do in order to reach the goal. It is not about strict micromanagement nor is it the liberal, distanced observation of others; this is about dialogue and encouragement to journey the costly path of discipleship whose aim is to encounter God and to know His divine will for our lives.

Heavenly Father, whose will is perfect freedom. Your son challenged the Pharisees who lived at the law in action but were far from you in their heart. Your son also challenged those who were enslaved by their own desires who led them first in one direction and then in another. Your son, our way, our truth and our life, ha been set as the pioneer and perfecter of the faith and we commit our lives to following him, to being shaped by him.

Come, Lord Jesus

Chapter 37: Old men and children

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Human nature tends to show sympathy to the aged and to children. The Rule also should make provision for them.

What is sympathy?

It would be too easy to skip past the opening of this chapter blindly accepting the statement that,

Human nature tends to show sympathy to the aged and to children.

without questioning whether we, as a society at the present moment, do show sympathy for aged and children. When pondering this question I find myself asking,

What is sympathy?

As I continue to pray for my own personal recovery from mild, stress related depression and after my public admission to suffering from this; I have received many expressions of concern and some sympathy from others. This has been nice, to some extent, but it has also not helped. The responses to my illness have fallen broadly into three categories: the first is what I might call ‘distanced concern’ and the second is ‘accepted reality’.

By ‘distanced concern’ I mean people who don’t know what it is like to feel and think like I do expressing concern that I am damaging myself and my behaviour is unknown and scary to them. This is not their fault; I don’t expect everyone to understand what I am going through and their concern is, I hope, truly genuine. It is nice to know that people want me to function and flourish; the fact they don’t know how to make that happen doesn’t belittle their desire to help. Their desire, however, stops at the point of action because they can’t help me. This is not their fault and I am not accusing them of some failure because there is none. Saying that one can get tired of expressions of concern when what you want is someone to help you. When you’re stuck down a hole there’s only so many times you can have people walking past wishing me luck in getting out,

Wow, that must be tough. I really wish I could help you up but I’m not sure how. Let me know how that works out.

The second category of responses, I want to name ‘accepted reality’. This is what I understand as sympathy; from the Greek syn (beside, to accompany) and pathos (feelings, passions). In both the Latin and the Greek, the words we use to get ‘sympathy’ have this sense of accompanying in another’s feelings. I have experienced this being manifested in worthy statements such as:

I know how that feels.

I have been through something similar to that and I know how the pressures impact me.

I too feel similar feelings to you. You’re not alone.

These are very well meaning and can help to know that you’re not alone in a situation. Again, however, there’s only so much sympathy I can take before I get tired of people sitting at the top of the hole I’m in telling me,

I’ve been down a hole before. It was a real struggle for me to get myself out. I can’t really help you except to sit and wait for the answer to become clear.

There is I feel a deeper part to sympathy which I’d like to separate from the mere accompanying aspect and I’d name that ‘empathy’. Empathy has a more intense dimension to it which is important. The difference in the root of this word is that instead of the syn (beside) it begins with en (in). There is a helpful video which distinguishes between ‘sympathy’ and ‘empathy’.

If sympathy is a ‘coming alongside someone in their emotions and feelings’, then empathy, for me is about entering into the pain of the other. To continue this analogy of the hole: if some walk past offering good will and others sit at the top of the hole to keep a suffering one company, then empathy is when someone jumps into the hole and sits in it with them. I feel guilty, however, when there is a sense of empathy shown towards me because I perceive it as them having to take the same feelings as I have in an attempt to help me but the solution to the problem is not found, we just end up sitting together bemoaning the fact we feel this with no way out.

The third response, which has been rare in my case and I continue to pray for, is what I want to call ‘transformative compassion’.

When I read the gospels and particularly the stories of when Jesus ‘had compassion’ (Mt 9:36, 14:14, 15:32, 20:34; Mk 1:41, 6:34, 8:2, 9:22-23; Lk 7:13) I’m always struck by the way in which this leads him to action, to change the situation whether that’s raising someone from the dead, feeding the hungry or healing the sick. Jesus never seems to just sympathise or empathise with suffering but his response is to act in eradicating it.

For me this ‘transformative compassion’ is something altogether different from our usual responses to other’s sufferings. The two previous responses have been different by the proximity we have with the pain; the first is at arms length, one might say objectifying and observing, the second has two stages, one close enough to hear the cries and to pay close attention but remaining separate from the pain, the next stage is to enter the life and to allow the pain to change your life. This third response continues that trajectory through the pain to the other side and it is, I would want to suggest, a purely God activity. To say it is a God activity does not, I think, excuse us from engaging in it; we are to be instruments through which God works this compassion.

I cannot pass this opportunity to remind us of the fabulous Greek word for compassion: splagchnizomai. Trying to say it gives a sense of the sense behind it. It literally means to be moved in your gut, like being punched firmly in the stomach. It means to wake you up to the severity of another’s experience and to have no other option but to stop it.

Being the kind of person I am, I cannot allow injustices to continue unchanged. My tendency is to isolate the root cause of problems and to work towards bettering the system which perpetuates them. This task is never as easy as people suggest (and most of the time it is to destroy the system altogether which is neither helpful nor Godly… I could say more but I won’t.) It is from this outlook and with the little energy I currently have that I become impatient with ‘pastoral sympathy/empathy’. It is not effective to just sit and wait for someone else to do something. I have little time to sit and tell someone that it’s ok to feel pain while someone repeatedly punches them in the face, without actually turning and stopping the other person from punching them in the face.

George Orwell, in his book ‘Down and Out in Paris and London’, articulates this well in a scene where he describes a group of ‘tramps’ being fed by a church in London with a worship service afterwards. The ‘tramps’ behave ‘in the most outrageous way’. At the end of the chapter Orwell reflects,

The scene had interested me. It was so different from the demeanour of tramps – from the abject worm-like gratitude with which they normally accept charity. The explanation, of course, was that we out-numbered the congregation and so were not afraid of them. A man receiving charity practically always hates his benefactor – it is a fixed characteristic of human nature. (George Orwell, ‘Down and Out in Paris and London’ (London: Penguin Books, 2001)p.197)

He goes on to outline the need for practical action to change the circumstances and the cultural responses to the poor (which I’m afraid continues to this day!)

I say all this because St. Benedict’s use of the word ‘sympathy’, I think, moves into ‘transformative compassion’ by changing the situation for those who struggle. He does it with the sick and the wayward monks and now he does it for the elderly and the children. This is a practical response to the various needs to those who struggle with certain aspects of his Rule which does not pander or release them from obedience but encourages them to participate and move towards holiness.

Reflection

Our society has sympathy for the elderly but it is, I would suggest, a passive sadness about their welfare. Individuals are left to care for our children, sick and elderly. Loneliness is a problem, but a problem which is insurmountable and so no one engages in systematic change. The church could be a radical force for change in the way we treat the vulnerable, the sick and the elderly. Here in York there is a move for the Church, via the One Voice York network, to provide twenty or more families to foster children along with the ‘Home For Good‘ initiative. One Voice York also is looking at establishing a practical network of visiting the isolated and elderly, providing them with company and practical help. These two initiatives, for me, go some way at transferring the sympathy of most to the ‘transformative compassion’ of Christ.

Many will say that parishes already fulfil this task of visiting the elderly but it often relies on the clergy and/or a few lay people. The inclusion of the elderly and the young is the task for the whole church. It is the whole church who should, as St. Benedict outlines, not think of this care as an extra part of the life of the Church but to be woven into our approach to community life in general. This might mean having small groups adopting children and/or elderly and discovering ways in which the tasks of the community can be adapted to suit them without changing the general Rule of everyone else.

This approach requires a change in ecclesiology and eschatology of the Church which currently sees everyone as part of the Church and that you go to worship to remind you of the peace that awaits us when we die. The Church has sanctified the status quo wholesale without a need to change it. The church sympathises with the struggle and waits for the pain to stop when we die or when Christ comes again (if they think he really will!) Instead, what I am proposing is that the church is made up of those who live out the reality of the Kingdom of God which is being born amongst us and that we are ‘co-labouring’ to establish. As disciples of Christ we actively seek and work out, with fear and trembling, our healing to be transformed more and more into the like-ness of Christ, image of God. Whilst we change we are placed within the Body of Christ as part of the community of others who are likewise being changed for encouragement and support. As we seek God’s will for us our eyes are lifted to others and we learn, through the Body of Christ and later outside to the world, to love others and to seek how they can live in the joy and hope of the Kingdom which God wants to establish here on earth. This will involve, therefore, the elderly and the children as well as everyone else. The Kingdom of God will manifest itself differently with different people and we encourage it however we find it.

Heavenly Father, I thank you that you are not satisfied with the way the world is and that you are moving to change it. I thank you for the gift of your transformative Spirit and I ask that you would come in power to change me, the world and all that populate it. May your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. For the kingdom, the power and the glory are yours, now and forever. Amen.

Come, Lord Jesus.

Chapter 36: sick brothers

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Before others and above all, special care must be taken of the ill so they may be looked after, as Christ.

What is an infirmarian to do with my sickness?

It was ironic that, on the week I was reflecting on how a community cares for the sick, I got sick. My sickness was not a commonly accepted sickness and many people question whether we should classify what I am still suffering with as a ‘sickness’ but for me there were physical symptoms which hindered me from functioning as well as I can and therefore it is a sickness like any other. My sickness was stress related and was a mental sickness: depression.

I am prone to this sickness like some are to colds and flus, to migraines and back problems. I am aware that I can be ‘crippled’ by this sickness if not kept in check. The symptoms for me (as I am aware people suffer with this in different ways) are an overwhelming sense of apathy, weariness, chest pains, inability to sleep, stomach cramps and unexpected waves of sadness and weeping. I am often loathed to name this sickness ‘depression’ because of the various versions of it and reasons for it: some are biological and hormonal others are circumstantial and based on the interaction between personality and environment/culture. Mine is not majorly biological but rather the way I function doesn’t, pre heavenly state of being, lend itself to easily coping with certain situations. Trying to manage these symptoms and counter them is difficult and is made more difficult when trying to function normally.

I am not one for hiding problems but this illness has a stigma particularly if you are a leader and teacher. This illness is deemed as a weakness and a failure in greater and lesser degrees. People judge you as the cause of the sickness and when you fail to function like normal you are blamed for not being able to control yourself and your body. Outside of the sickness I can see how this response comes about and there is a certain regime one should develop to live with mental health sickness. When you are overwhelmed by the darkness and despair it is so easy to fall into blaming yourself for your relapse but that makes things worse.

The problem I have found with this current bout of sickness is how it is, for me, externally triggered but that doesn’t mean that the trigger is the sole blame for it. It is the mixture with many other factors including my personal state of mind and, yes, body. If I am tired (like everyone gets sometimes) then I’m more vulnerable. Here again the sickness is like the common cold for me: if I am low on energy to fight the virus then I will knocked by it so, in order to not catch colds, I need to keep my energy up. Also, like the common cold, there is an external trigger, someone gives you a cold, but the solution to that is to not be around anyone. This is stupid and unrealistic so there’s always a danger of contracting it but I need to look after myself.

Despite it being a sickness there is not a simple cure for it (aside from medication which I have issues with, personally). Each person and each triggered relapse requires different ‘cures’ or strategies. I find preventative measures much more helpful than reactionary diagnosis and aid. I’d rather find better ways to protect myself from falling ill rather than to keep falling ill and having to wait for things to ease. It is easier, in my mind, to learn how to manage the external triggers rather than to be blind to them and be surprised every time to begin to suffer.

The complication for me comes when my ministry requires me to live so close to so many potential triggers. My personality/spirituality/theology are based largely on being vulnerable, committing to deep relationship with others and to engaging in a very real battle between darkness and light. This means that I find myself placed in situations which I am called to stand with people in brokenness, burden and the darknesses of this world. For someone who is easily tempted to despair this is not a great place to be for long periods of time but I do not feel it is God’s will for me to avoid such situations; in fact, I am witness to the powerful way in which God is redeeming this approach to life and discipleship in powerful ways for people. I’m not just talking about a basic understanding for people in a situation but actually of taking off the other their burden and sharing the weight, feeling the pain of loss and the void of hopelessness. I do that with the full knowledge and faith in Christ the Light of the world.

Being in these situations I know my own complete dependance on God to sustain me and to uphold me. I genuinely cry out for both myself and the person who’s burden I am sharing. I know that, if I don’t turn to God, I will fall and I will suffer. This does mean, however, that when I suffer with despair it is so easy for me to think,

I clearly was not with God nor dependant on him.

This makes me feel as though I have failed and beat myself further into a miry pit.

Having people around me concerned for my wellbeing is nice, to a point, but how am I to be taken care of? What is an infirmarian to do with my sickness?

This is a question I am still wrestling with and it is made more acute when I look at the Church of England and the structures in place for its leaders (lay and ordained). What support and healing is available and realistic? Who is the Diocesan Infirmarian and how might healing work within the pressures of full-time ministry?

Without dismissing anyone who is ‘weak’ enough to suffer from this inability to cope with the pressures of ministry and who can’t divorce their own lives from others to protect themselves from deep, gut-wrenching compassion what is the Church of England to do? Is there a way that people like me can be surrounded and supported, like Moses was with Hur and Aaron (Exodus 17), to be used by God in this ministry of vulnerability and compassion?

Most ministers I know either suffer in silence or develop divorcing techniques from the cause of the problem. Neither really changes the situation; both are avoiding the deeper issues. If you just ‘cope’ and accept reality as unchangeable (or at best ‘long term and complicated’) then you lose any hope of your situation changing; you’re trapped and must change to deal with it or succumb to a kind of death. If you develop divorcing techniques such as, refusing to enter fully into the emotion of conflict and/or other’s painful experience, distraction from reflecting too much on complex landscape of the mess of the world or just repeating over and over, ‘it’s all fine really’ then you ignore the problem and it is only a matter of time before you can ignore it no more.

So what are my conclusions? What are the answers to my questions? I’m afraid I don’t know entirely but here is my best stab in the dark (and it really feels dark at times)…

The isolation model of most parish ministers is unhealthy for the kind of work that we are called to engage with. I would be surprised if many parish priests would not admit to feeling lonely at some point. Fortunately many full-time ministers (lay and ordain) gather round them teams of people but, because of the responsibility and the oversight role they hold it is difficult to be open and honest at certain times. There might be more fruit in sharing the full responsibility and pressures of leadership in peer groups, with the overall care of the team of peers being placed with the abbot (bishop) and deans together.

When one of the ministers falls sick then the others come around and fulfil the work. An infirmarian is called in and the sick minister is taken to a place to heal knowing that the work continues in the way that it was started.

Unfortunately, due to the centralisation of power that tends to be executed in the Church of England the powers to act and support are so far removed from the parish that it can feel like you are neglected. It takes so long to get hold of the busy bishop or arch-deacon.

I am aware that in some cases this works well but the system is a strained model which needs looking at.

Reflection

As I still struggle with my illness, without an effective infirmarian or ‘cure’, I am acutely aware of how my approach to ministry and how God has shaped and continues to use me doesn’t work within the Church of England generally. I am aware that my theology and particular call is not the liberal, at times cynical and altogether ‘pragmatic’ approach of the majority of the Church of England and that what I desire is an intentional community of discipleship who share life together: prayer together, study together and mission together. To put it simply I am monastic and the Church of England is not.

There is something, I feel, to be had if we were to ask the question of the larger system and institution of the Church of England. That question is this:

What if every parish church was either a) a monastery with the powers devolved to enable it to function or b)the parish is seen as one equal but distinct part of a wider monastic community of a deanery in prayer, study and mission together?

As I struggle to see a way out of the forest of my current plethora of external triggers to my sickness, I am forced to reflect on the role of a curacy. This is a much bigger topic than can be dealt with here but I want to voice a hunch that if we see the role of college training as a powerhouse of discipleship and preparation why is there a big disconnect between it and parish training? Is there any scope in developing a training programme which continues on that process of a placing curates (and maybe all full time ministers) into a community that live together, praying, studying and engaging in mission? As we welcome new people in other employment we develop and grow that community which is fed from the local centre of monastic rhythm.

Lots of thoughts on that: anyone willing to talk to me and dream with me on that?

Loving Father, you know my prayers, the silent sighs and groans tune in with your Spirit who intercedes for us, “Abba Father”. That is a prayer not just as a cry from a nightmare to be embraced and brought close to you but also as a statement of refuge and strength.

Come, Lord Jesus

Chapter 32: property and utensils

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No one shall treat monastic property carelessly or in a slipshod manner.

How do we care for creation?

In the previous chapter the cellarer is instructed to

…think of all the monastery’s property as if they were sacred chalices.

It is with this still ringing in our ear that we turn to consider all the monastery’s care for the material objects of life. Esther de Waal also comments,

At the end of chapter 4, which looked at the tools of good works, we were told that when we have used them without ceasing, day and night, and handled them faithfully, we hand them over and we receive our reward. Now we see how the ordinary tools of daily life are to be handled in the same way. (Esther de Waal, A Life Giving Way: a commentary on the rule of St Benedict (London: Continuum, 1995) p. 108)

What does a vow of poverty truly look like in a wealthy nation? Is our understanding of poverty relative to neighbours? I would want to suggest that a vow of poverty is to be understood as a vow of simplicity (this idea will be developed next week as we look at personal property amongst the monks.) For now it is worth reflecting on our attitude to property, to the material things of our own lives.

It has been said that we live in a ‘throw away society’; if something isn’t ‘perfect’ or working to our standards we discard it (usually to landfill!) We extend this mentality to our relationships as we increasingly see one another as purely material beings more and more akin to the objects we own and possess. This is, for me, another symptom of the sickness of where we find ourselves at this time. This is why, I suggest, we are happy with the rise of divorce and separation, the increased need for adoption and fostering, the continual need of prostitution, the medias use of the human form to sell products and the discussions over Assisted Dying Bill. As we live out the philosophy of individualism and relativism we see this objectifying of humanity; others are possessions to be treated in the same way as we treat a family heirloom or an electronic device.

The solution to this problem is not to just try and categorise what to objectify and what not to, for there is a chance we begin to divide up who should be treated as holy and who shouldn’t be but to sanctify all of creation. All things are to be treated with respect and care.

Before we run off in a certain direction and begin to fall into the error of pantheism, let me put up some guidance as to the practicalities. I am not suggesting that we worship other human beings or the material things of this world; we worship only the creator and not the creation. To name something as ‘holy’ is to draw it out from the rest of the world. When you handle something that is holy you understand that God cares for this and was part of its creation and it is a gift for you to enjoy. Like all of God’s gifts they are not to be possessed by you but by God who shares with you (again, more of this next week!)

It is the basic understanding that all creation, whether re-formed by humanity or organically grown in nature, is a gift from God to be used by us that leads us to treat all things as someone else’s property: God’s. If you go to someone’s house and you are a guest and you happen to break a mug there should be a pang of guilt or sadness for what you have broken is a possession of someone else. It is the concern of breaking something that is not yours that helps us to care for those objects. The same should be true in creation. The fear should not cripple us to not touch anything out of concern that we may break it but is there purely to guard us against the ‘slipshod’ manner of thinking everything is replaceable; this starts with objects and should extend to relationships… no relationship is replaceable!

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Possession

I am aware that this chapter and the next one may have a lot of overlap in terms of reflection but I want to add to this reflection on why we should handle objects with care something about ‘possession’.

To have possession of something is to be master of it; this is the same of objects and people. This is where the topic of spiritual possession enters our life. Few of us would think of ourselves as slaves and most of us would resist being told that we submit to another out of fear of losing our freedom. Slavery is, despite the Abolition Bill being past centuries ago, alive and kicking and we’re made aware of this in situations of prostitution, immigration violations, underpaid workforce, etc. There is another slavery that we’d rather not talk about because most of us are victims of it: the slavery to an ideology/philosophy. Commercialisation has made us slaves to the market and to materialism which erodes our relationships and hinders us from flourishing. I have, in the past, referred to this as an addiction and that is the power of our slave drivers.

In the Christian tradition there is a paradox which leads us to true freedom; in order to be free we must become slaves of Christ (1 Corinthians 7:22). We are to be possessed by Christ; he is the one who directs us and holds us. This should be a spiritual possession of his character like we think of a demon possessing a human being.

I was asked this week about demon possession, whether I believed it was a real and distinct thing from mental health issues. My answer is a clear, ‘yes’. I do not agree that all demon possessions in the gospel account are to be thought of as ‘mental health issues’. Jesus clearly talks of demons and personifies them. Jesus commands us to go and ‘cast out demons’ (e.g. Mark 16:17) and that is separate from healing. With that in mind I understand the complications of discerning which is which. Maybe we could begin talking about possession in a broader sense to help us connect with these passages in the gospels. What might it look like to stand and fight against the possession of person who has an addiction which controls them (and that includes addiction to buying certain products or of living a certain lifestyle)? It might mean that we bring Ephesians 6:10-12 to mind,

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power. Put on the whole armour of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.

What I’m suggesting is that St. Benedict is able to see sacred and mundane as synonymous due to his acceptance that there is a spiritual aspect to our reality and that the way to flourish in one realm is to flourish in the other. We’d do well to begin to encourage our communities to understand this and to pray for our true freedom by obeying the call of Christ to make us slaves of Him who cares and heals us.

Reflection

As a parish minister I am increasingly aware of the people of the congregation to whom I am called to serve. I am aware that they are not ‘mine’ but God’s and he has entrusted me (along with my bishop and fellow ministers) to care for them and that ‘when we have… handled them faithfully, we hand them over and we receive our reward.’ This sense is increasingly true of all people I meet and come in contact with; the members of the community in which I work, the people I interact with online. This is also true of the objects that I use; the keyboard sat in front of me, the pencil currently sat in a book I’m reading, that book, all of it to be handled as if I were to hand it back to someone who’s possession it is.

Our task, as Christians, is surely to also ensure that God takes rightful possession of all creation. That our battle to ‘gain ground’ is to claim things and people back for God and doing so is, in part about making them slaves but to know that if they were not his they’d be someone else’s and the slavery of God is true freedom.

Heavenly Father, come and set us free in the safety of your embrace. We submit to you and accept your guidance to lead us to life of eternity

Come, Lord Jesus

Chapter 31: the cellarer

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He will take care of everything, but will do all under the abbot’s orders.

How then shall we live?

I have been a public critic of the isolated, CEO-styled leadership within the church for many years. Even when a leader ‘builds a team’ around them it can remain under their power and responsibility; no decision of any importance is made without them knowing of it. It seems sensible enough: if the buck ends with you, you’d want to be aware of the risks. A church can be a large ship and, therefore, needs decisive and visionary captains to steer it through decisions and strategies. This cannot be done through committee as disagreement costs time and and can divert the ship off course to their ultimate goal. With this understanding of ministry the pyramid structure of leadership is the most efficient and effective.

What if that wasn’t the aim of Christian ministry? What if the church wasn’t meant to have a five year plan because it had an eternal plan? What if the plan was not to have a militaristic styled strategy of ‘take-over’ the world because the plan was to simply live as if this world was of no threat in the light of the resurrection? What if the church was meant to be a gathering of people who were committed to living more like Jesus together and establishing a Kingdom which played by completely different rules to that of the world in which they find themselves?

In this sort of community there is no need for a head because the direction is not one person’s possession which he/she allows others to be a part of but the direction is set by a Spirit which is discerned collectively and owned collectively. In this model the community is like a family. What kind of family sits down and discusses their five year plan? Would they choose, at a family gathering, which of them is going to ‘lead’ the family? Is a father more important than a mother, one sibling more important than another? The one who cooks, are they deemed more responsible than the one who washes up?

In the Rule of St. Benedict, the role of the abbot is clearly a ‘leader’. I’ve read many articles, theses and books that use the role of the abbot in a monastery as a model for spiritual leadership and I’d agree with most of them but what is interesting is the role of cellarer; are they a leader or not? if a leader then a lesser one than abbot? The cellarer is under the authority of the abbot, for sure; it clearly says that but what kind of authority does the abbot wield over the cellarer? A humble oversight of the spiritual health of each and every monk. The role of the abbot is to ensure that, on the Day of Judgement, the monks can stand before God pure and holy in his sight. The spiritual health of the monks will be the measure of the abbot’s faithfulness to Christ. It is a heavy responsibility. The abbot is a teacher of the faith,

he should show them by deeds, more than by words, what is good and holy.

The abbot is an overseer and is entrusted with the task of ensuring the ethos and character of the community is that of Christ. He is not to be the decider of action; that is left to others. Although there is a complex relationship between character and action there is a distinction between the two. Whether our actions drive our character or the other way round it is clear that character is ‘being’ and action is ‘doing’.

I saw this this week and it made me smile!

In this understanding the abbot is the overseer of the community’s ‘being’ but it is the role of someone else to oversee the community’s ‘doing’. In St. Benedict’s understanding the ‘doing’/action must come from the ‘being’/character but it is not his role to decide what that ‘doing’/action is. The abbot establishes a partnership with others. This partnership is entered into by humble servants who are focussed on the weight of their respective roles. They must not be mistaken that their role is the highest but rather the lowest being always aware of the fallen nature of humanity and the insurmountable, unending task that lays before them; how to be the Body of Christ in the world.

The monastic call has always developed in times and places when the church is asking one question,

How then shall we live?

In the dust clouds of the falling worldly empires and structure, godly men and women have fled to the edge lands and asked this question. This question has led these gathered survivors first to silent mourning,confession, repentance and prayer; in this they strip themselves of the ways in which they were caught up in the dying empire and dismantle the inner constructions of the empires within themselves. After this confession and repentance they begin, slowly, to live out the basics of faith; to live simply, not to complicate things or move quickly. At each step they ask this one question. How do they discern what is right and wrong? by asking ‘Does it look like Jesus?’

Looking like Jesus is a character issue – pure and simple.

In order to answer, ‘What Would Jesus Do?’you must first ask ‘What Is Jesus Like?’; it is easier to decide what to do if you know what it is you want to be.

How easy it is to say,

Just be like Jesus.

But we all have a different understanding of who Jesus is… This is where the community becomes the most important factor: The Spirit of God points to Jesus and leads the people of God to know Christ and Christ crucified. It is the Spirit that tells us “Jesus Christ is Lord”. The Spirit moves in the Body of Christ not in one part of it. The Spirit is the life blood of the Body and flows to each part giving vitality and movement/action.

Wisdom and discernment takes time for us fallen humans but we are nowhere without it. We are like all other empires and worldly groups doing lots and being nothing. St. Paul has this advice to a Christian community,

Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. (Philippians 2:3)

“Do nothing,” says Paul, “from a place of ‘electioneering’ or when you are focussed on your office, nor empty pride, but, from a place of knowing of what you are made and to what you can quickly return to, lead others to be superior to yourself.” It is interesting that what is translated here in NRSV as ‘regard’ is the greek word ‘hegeomai’ which means ‘to lead’. Don’t move until you have the character and the Spirit directs you.

In the theatre an actor is given a character, then they are given a space in which to perform and to play, then they move and are shaped by the director. It’s a beautifully creative and surprising activity of playing and moulding. The same is true of the spiritual work of faith; we need to get to know the character, through reading the script. Then we attempt small movements and vocal trials all the while looking to the director for guidance and encouragement. In an ensemble model of theatre practice the director is not the dictator but a fellow artist; their role is to observe and ask questions. In the spiritual work the director is the Holy Spirit who prompts, challenges and encourages us to become more and more truthful portrayers of the character of Christ.

Reflection

Parish ministry is set up so the minister is the management and the spiritual director although they are different tasks and roles. As the leader with sole responsibility you are called upon to not only have oversight of the spiritual wellbeing of your community, vast and varied as that is, but also to make decisions as to what sermon series to do, organising events, setting up for services, making sure the rotas get done, managing PCCs with all the bureaucracy and business.

Imagine what could be achieved if the day to day running of a parish was established as a different role to the role of spiritual guide? I wonder what that might look like. Imagine if that was the expectation.

What I mean is, what if ‘leadership’ roles was more like St. Paul’s use of it in Philippians 2 as the raising up others and not drawing attention to the office. That discipleship was the desired office to have and the model of ministry was structured round the development of discipleship.

Heavenly Father, you call us all into your kingdom to be transformed into the character of Christ. help us by your Spirit to be formed daily into his likeness. May our actions reveal his character and may his character inform our actions that all of our being will reveal him to the world, for your glory!

Come, Lord Jesus

Chapter 22: how the monks are to sleep

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All the monks shall sleep in separate beds.

Why are you making this more complicated than it needs to be?

When I first read this chapter I was struck by how context is important when reading this document.

What is being described by St. Benedict in this chapter seems very odd to my modern brain and to enforce this on modern day monks would be a bigger deal than St. Benedict seems to be giving it credit.

If possible they should all sleep in one room.

They will sleep in their robes, belted but with no knives.

The younger brothers should not be next to each other. Rather their beds should be interspersed with those of their elders.

Each suggestion brings with it big questions:

Why do you need to even mention that monks sleep in separate beds or even that they not take knives to bed?

Why sleep in one room? Surely then you’d not need to be concerned about elders interspersing younger monks; I’m guessing they are likely to talk into the night!

So here is some context that has helped me to feel settled and to hear what God is saying through St. Benedict.

In Europe in those days it was uncommon for average people to have their own bedrooms. Families slept in one room. It was a luxury even for parents to have their own private room. Monasteries were a spiritual family and did pretty much the same thing… By our modern standards nothing was terribly private in Benedict’s cenobitical monasteries…They also slept fully clothed. This was to keep them ready to rise to meet Jesus in prayer at vigils around two or three o’clock in the morning…Few people actually had nightclothes in those days. The average person slept in regular clothes and used his cloak as a cover. The monks were no different. (John Michael Talbot, Blessings of St. Benedict (Minnesota: Order of Saint Benedict, 2011) p.23)

In those days sleeping arrangements were different and therefore the view of bedrooms was different. Today we see a bedroom as a private space, one that, generally speaking, is considered deeply intimate and personal. Teenagers become possessive over this space, demanding privacy and solitude. The clutter and mess is allowed in that space because they have authority and ownership over it.

None of these issues of privacy and solitude would be raised in a monastery at the time of St. Benedict but other concerns were being addressed. These seem so alien to us and from our different culture/context it seems the solution would be to change in line with our modern approach. Indeed that is what modern monasteries have done. The issues being raised here, I think, are the probability of younger, un-disciplined monks talking together late at night and then not being able to get up to pray. Also the issue of unity and familial understanding of the monastery; the fact that this chapter follows the chapter on the appointment of deans with its implicit sense of hierarchy beyond Abbot and monk is telling, I think.

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The Family not The Business

I am more convinced that the major issue with the Church of England at the moment is that we are discovering the cost of treating the Body of Christ like a business/institution. I have explored this distinction between organism and organisation before and continue to see how this conversation needs to be had and acted on. The monastery, in the Rule of St. Benedict, is seen more in terms of organic and familial. This does not mean that there is not structure or guidelines but these are more flexible and therefore useful.

If we treat a church in the terms of business then hierarchy rules and is the structure in which we exist. This brings with it questions of power and authority and people’s roles define them rather than their character and relationships with others. Someone is treated a certain way because of what they do rather than how they are known and they invest in relationship. Leaders then become figures treated with suspicion and thus are forced to assert authority or earn trust and respect. From this sense of needing to justify their position we get the whole culture of models of leadership that are systematised and objective.

I find the thought of hierarchy and the way authority is expressed within it difficult and, at worst, abusive. I baulk at its imposition upon me and obedience is not easy. Obedience in the familial settings seems more understandable to me and I wonder if others in my generation feel the same. I wonder if this is at the heart of why ‘millenials’ (or whatever you want to call people my age) struggle with the church (see ‘Chapter 5: obedience‘ post). I wonder if it is not the content of our worship or the beliefs we explore and journey with but the way we structure ourselves that put them off. What if they were invited to be a part of a community akin to a large family? There would be the authority figures within that community which were not enforced but emerged like any family. There would be those that were elected to teach and those who were looked to to organise but all would be natural and organic.

It is natural, when entering a new community or family, to be tentative and inquisitive. It feels wrong to enter it and demand you are heard and that everything should change to fit you but equally there is an organic process that is usually assumed within families that new members are accommodated but there is a natural order to family life as to authority and power. This image of the church as family comes naturally to me but it has been abused by the church as we stress the ‘family of God’ image but live out a ‘business of God’ model.

I’ll finish with this short piece written by the Lindisfarne Community:

Leadership in monastic communities was traditionally by the Abbot or Abbess (in the desert tradition Abba and Amma), meaning father or mother. In other words, leadership was seen to be of a familial relationship rather than, say, the hierarchy of military order or, as we would have it today, the bureaucratic efficiency of the modern business corporation. Monastic community is more akin to an extended family with parental care and oversight.

Of course, in the ancient world obedience to parental authority was a primary requirement and in the ancient Rules were rigorously enforced. Modern sensibilities find those practices too strict, not to say psychologically damaging. Nonetheless, the notion of spiritual parenting remains valid if reinterpreted through the lens of our modern social construction of the parental task: unconditional love and care, setting an example, creating boundaries in which to exercise freedom, a wise and gentle correction when necessary.

Abbots and Abbesses in their turn, were in relationship with bishops who acted as spiritual advisers to the monastic community. This practice of mutual accountability is much needed as a counter to contemporary radical individualism.

Reflection

How do we recapture the organic understanding of the church? How does a parish church become, for those without a family environment to flourish within, ‘home’, with all its instinctive distribution of authority and participation? How do we re-structure or re-imagine the church to release these natural gifts of God as He portray in Scripture? I would suggest it starts with those who currently sit in authority.

For those who find themselves higher on the hierarchical ladder to step down and take the bold move of following Christ who did not consider equality with God something to be grasped. It takes someone who is perceived by others to hold power to relinquish and hand it over, to surrender it and live out, radically, vulnerability and intimacy in relationship. This is highly costly but I get the sense that it is what God wants of His church for today.

Loving Father, you welcome us into your family as heirs of your Kingdom and as adopted children. You encourage us to take our place and to participate in the working of this family. You hold us and teach us as we grow and learn. We are sorry for what we’ve made your church. Help us, particularly those of us who perpetuate the hierarchical divisions that have seemed necessary, to risk relationship above position and to live out the organic and familial images that you spoke through your Son Jesus Christ, who said the Kingdom of God is like a Father who had two sons…

Come, Lord Jesus.

Struggling with No-Man’s Land

I have, in the past, been a fan of the part ii’s, the part iii’s, etc. I was going to name this post ‘Fleeing to No-Man’s Land (part ii)’ but I realised that the verb was wrong. I am calling this ‘Struggling with No-Man’s Land’ because that better describes my honest, if not entirely correct, emotion at the moment. This post comes from my continued reflection on the community which I love, Burning Fences.

If you have not read my first reflection, which I remain completely committed to, then please read it here before proceeding…

…

Nomansland …Ok. Since I wrote that reflection there has been a growing sense of some footing being lost amongst us. We have felt, at different moments, that we have lost our way or the passion has waned. This has been due to various small events in the life of our community which have combined to create not a destruction or a despair but a niggle, a question to arise: what are we doing?

I, in a broken and fumbled way, attempted to voice this concern to my fellow fence burners to see if I was alone; I was not. I tried then to gauge where this ‘dis-satisfaction’ was coming from. It was not clear. We all had different theories and, therefore, different solutions. We gathered together for a weekend away and I ‘hosted’ the space. I didn’t do a perfect job but I tried my best but even at the end of this wonderful time together there was a niggle; quiet but persistent, like a headache which has become habitual, not debilitating but present, sometimes forgettable but, in the still times returns to remind and prompt attention.

After the weekend away I sent out an email to some to see if people thought it might be good to have an open meeting to discuss this ambiguous question of how to acknowledge what Burning Fences is.

This desire to define and name came with a great heaviness for me as I still believe that there is a danger in this course of action. With definition come boundaries to cross, requirements to meet, entitlement to battle with, etc. The temptation to do so is great and most follow it but seem to come unstuck by it. I wonder whether this is our challenge, as a community, to pioneer the narrow path away from it and lead others to a secret place of truly organic and free space. Is such a place possible?

And this is why this post is called ‘Struggling with No-Man’s Land’ because I am deeply torn. The call/demand on my inner being to follow suit and define this community is great. I have justified how we can do it without damaging the freedom we have enjoyed in not defining or acknowledging. Most of these justifications come from a deeply held understanding that with no markers we must be prone to float from one thing to another and there is no defence against any ‘spirit’ or idea which could equally destroy than strengthen, enslave as to liberate. There is, in this non-demarcated space no source of discernment accept our flawed concepts of reality and shifting judgments.

the_clearing_by_crossie A wise brother amongst us wrote a deeply honest and profound response to my call for a discussion. He named the beauty of Burning Fences as ‘a clearing’. He writes,

We run into problems when any one group tries to colonise the clearing.

That sentence struck me as deeply important. How? I’m not sure.

In a discussion about Burning Fences with someone on the periphery looking in we were described, by them, as either,

A secular space in which Christians inhabit and live out their faith.

Or,

A space created by Christians and where anyone and everyone is invited to come and inhabit.

Both have strengths and weaknesses. The first image has the strength of describing the Christian as a resident alien, a guest who honours the code of hospitality that guests have. It’s weakness is that it can easily be seen as an invasion or takeover. The second image develops a sense of hospitality. There is a basic assumption in good hospitality that the guest is free to make the space their own and the host serves them and welcomes. The problem comes when the power is mis-read and, no matter how much it is expressed, the space is never owned by the guest.

There are big questions here of our understanding of hospitality and one which we must wrestle with but both these images are not apt descriptions of Burning Fences because the space in both has an ownership by one party. Hospitality requires a power-game between host and guest. My wise friend and fellow fence burner is closer: it is a clearing which is not owned by anyone. It is ‘no-man’s land’.

The beauty of No-Man’s Land is that it is neutral territory where everyone is simultaneously both host and guest. The different parties come together and build together.

It reminds me of Vincent Donovan’s approach to his mission to the Masai described in ‘Christaianity Rediscovered’. He writes this,

…the unpredictable process of evangelization, [is] a process leading to that new place where none of us has ever been before. When the gospel reaches a people where they are, their response to that gospel is the church in a new place, and the song they will sing is that new, unsung song, that unwritten melody that haunts all of us. What we have to be involved in is not the revival of the church or the reform of the church. It has to be nothing less than what Paul and the Fathers of the Council of Jerusalem were involved in for their time – the refounding of the Catholic church for our age. (Vincent Donovan, Christianity Rediscovered (London: SCM Press, 2009) p.xix)

It was in No-Man’s land that peace came, for the briefest of moments during the Great War. It was in the middle of the deeply dug trenches that people were free to meet and experience peace in a simple game of football; neutral, no power games, shared. This is the beauty of such a clearing.

I begin to realise that my issue at the weekend away was the locus of hospitality was skewed. I, along with a select few others, were ‘hosting’, and others considered themselves ‘guests’. This has a definite dynamic in the relationship and how people respond to the space created. What I wanted was a shared ownership but I attempted to achieve this by ‘hosting’. This is where the invitation to a radically different hospitality comes into its own. One which I consider godly; where the host is the guest, the guest the host and service is from all to all in a beautiful mutually loving community.

But is it sustainable?

In this space, what is the source of discernment? What is the shared authority? What fosters peace and reconciliation? What is it that guards against colonisation? For me, as a Christian, what does it mean to see God’s Kingdom extend and grow in this place where no name can be spoken over it? Where does No-Man’s people move to?

orthodox-priest-in-kiev-jan-22-2014 This is our quest: to inhabit, together, No-Man’s Land. To share the space making no claim on it for ourselves or the parties, agendas and personal empires which we are tempted to enforce. We desire, however, to build our home there for to be at peace one must feel a sense of belonging. To what are we committing and how can that be spoken in this between place?

I am convinced this is our challenge and one which, if manifested, will break a temptation that many groups have suffered under. There is a great weight to the task that lies before us and I pray to God for wisdom and boldness to enter in.

Chapter 18: psalms – order to be chanted

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Monks who chant less than the entire Psalter, with canticles, each week are slothful in their service to God.

How much should I be praying?

For ten weeks now I have been praying and meditating on the place and structure of prayer in the life of a monastic community. During this time I have been asking myself, whether it has been communicated on this journal or not, what place does prayer take in my life? The answer has often been: I must try harder. This is a common response to prayer and Bible reading to many Christians, ordained, lay, within religious orders or not. It is easy to compare ourselves to others or to our perception to others or , even worse, to an impossible ideal. There’s a proverb within the church which says,

Prayer is like sex. Most people lie about how much they’re doing it and how well it is going.

It is easy to compare ourselves to others and to beat ourselves up on how lazy and difficult we find prayer, reading the Bible, service to the poor, etc. We do it instinctively. If it’s not the person sat next to you in church or your own priest or lay workers then there’s a renowned saint (for me it’s people like Shane Claiborne!) who we project onto heavenly virtues and exult them to ‘super-Christian’. I am reminded of Jesus’ last exchange with Peter in John’s gospel,

Peter turned and saw the disciple whom Jesus loved following them; he was the one who had reclined next to Jesus at the supper and had said, “Lord, who is it that is going to betray you?” When Peter saw him, he said to Jesus, “Lord, what about him?” Jesus said to him, “If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you? Follow me!” (John 21:20-22)

What is that to you?

Those words should ring in our ears when we find ourselves falling into a self-destructive cycle of despair. When you find yourself saying,

I should be reading the Bible as much as [insert name of idealised version of a fellow Christian here].

Or,

I wish I had their prayer life. They’re always praying.

Having said that we must be careful also to be realistic with our time. Most of us could prioritise prayer and Bible reading better but that’s the truth of priorities; you prioritise what you prioritise. We need to firstly acknowledge what we do prioritise and why. What is it that you consider more important than prayer? What do you turn to before you turn to prayer or reading the Bible? Why does this, or ‘these’, things take precedent? Are they easier? Are they more enjoyable?

For me, it’s TV, social media and work.

I justify TV because it’s important to rest and wind down after work. I justify social media because it’s important for me to know what’s going on in the lives of my friends, family and communities. I justify work because I’ve been called to it by God and people are relying on me to support them in their lives. But that’s all these priorities are; justifications. On their own and in isolation there’s nothing wrong with these activities and, yes, they need to be done and be a part of a balanced life but the reality is I minimise my time in prayer and reading the Bible in favour of doing those three things.

Added to that I lie to myself about my prayer life. I find myself saying,

I pray while I…(e.g. look at my Twitter stream/Facebook wall).

At times I do but that is not always a deliberate thing, a dedicated time set aside to speak with God. Most of the time it’s a one way dictation of things He has to do for me. The same is true for reading the Bible; I say,

I read the Bible today while I prepared for… (e.g. a sermon).

That’s not the kind of reading that feeds the soul; that’s work. I read it with a particular energy; I’m listening for that teaching point, that image which will help people to connect with the passage. I don’t always find myself asking those personal questions like,

What is God saying to me in this?

Don’t get me wrong, I do ok. At morning and evening prayer (and at times, midday prayer) I engage with Scripture on that level and I pray for a dedicated time but even these times are dry and distracted. These times are dedicated and disciplined for the very reality, for me, that I just won’t ensure I am praying as much as I should. This is not about comparing with those dedicated intercessors and pray-ers in the Body of Christ but a basic level for any disciple to remain rooted in God.

I’d suggest to ‘normal’, working (paid and unpaid) Christians engaging in the world, that at least one regular time of prayer a day is minimum. That time of prayer, what ever form it takes, should be undistracted and deliberate for a minimum of fifteen minutes. This is not an excessive amount of time. Consider how long it takes to drink a cup of tea? When you start to consider a regular time when, presently, you are doing nothing, you will begin to realise how much you fill your days with all manner of tasks without even considering the time you dedicate to it. I catch myself on a regular basis, unconsciously walking upstairs into my office and turning on the computer without knowing why. Habit and routine take over and I tell myself I’m busy and I create work for myself. It’s easy to do.

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Rhythms of prayer

We who live in the world all need to acknowledge that it would be difficult, if not impossible, to dedicate the kind of time that a Benedictine community spends in prayer. If we add up the typical time spent in prayer for such a community it would be about 3 1/2 hours in Divine Office/communal set prayers then an hour of prayerful reading of Scripture and half an hour silent personal prayer we can see that a monk should be praying 5 hours a day. Be careful not to start comparing yourself and beating yourself up about how ‘lazy’ you are! Remember that that 5 hours is split up and goes into the night but even that would have a big impact on our energy levels if we are also trying to hold down a full time, or even part time job, possibly a family and commitments to a Church community.

For a New Monastic community who have to balance the everyday life of family and employment with prayer and service, a more realistic rhythm of prayer should be established. This will be different for each expression and for the lives of those involved in such communities but it will require, like that of St. Benedict’s, a framework which will hold the community accountable; a framework and guidance as to how much is possible and helpful for prayer to be a priority.

As I said, I find a set time time in the morning, before I start work, and one in the evening just as people are finishing their work. My work often stretches into the evening so that evening prayer is praying that the work of many in my communities will bear fruit for God’s Kingdom. A commonality between such ‘monastic’ communities is an established morning prayer either said at the same time by all the members and, if possible, in the same place. Some have a Night Prayer others an evening, some have midday prayers but each is flexible to help and guide the community to have prayer woven into the routine.

After about five years of a rhythm of prayer (which has changed and evolved) I feel odd when I am not praying at 8.30am a set Office (be that Common Worship or Celtic Daily Prayer). My wife knows that at 5.30pm I will be praying and we have set dinner time around that fact. I schedule meetings around this time and say to people who ‘need’ me,

I’m sorry I have a meeting then.

On occasions I need to adapt and move stuff but that must be done prayerfully and with consideration.

Starting a day with set prayers, for me who is not a morning person, is useful as I don’t need to be ‘up for it’. I turn up and I am quiet with god. I find I repeat the same quiet prayer before I begin,

Oh Lord, I am so tired, give me strength for today.

I then use this time to go through my day and as I remember all the things I have planned I invite God into them.

Lord, will you be with me as I meet with…

Lord, what is it that you want me to say to…

Lord, help me face this difficult challenge.

I find, as I perform the tasks of the day I remember my prayer that morning and repeat it before I begin, as I do it and after it is done. These are not dedicated times of prayer just quick short repetitions remembering God with me as I go about my business.

Reflection

This part of my blog has slipped at times from what I had intended it to be. I had wanted this section to be a possible practical step I could take to move from theory to action. This week I want to ponder what this rhythm of prayer looks like in community.

In my parish we offer morning and evening prayer for anyone. Both times are not easy for people to make. There are many reasons why people can’t come but I suspect that anytime would be difficult because rhythms of prayer are not understood and challenge people’s priorities. I sit with one or two others at both times. We have a routine and we are flexible when necessary. I would love to build a community that came together each day to dedicate themselves to prayer together.

To do this in a parish would require a dedicated season studying and teaching on the subject and then a focussed discussion on what that prayer would look like for the members of the community there. I don’t think we ask what prayer looks like as the Body of Christ on a daily basis. This challenges our Sunday focussed life together and also what we see our role in society as.

Lord, call your people to yourself each day to hear and receive all we need from you. Take us from our lives and shape us into disciples, placing us back into those lives changed and equipped for the building up of your Kingdom in the places we are sent.

Come, Lord Jesus.