Tag Archives: worship

In The Minster (part III)

So what’s the point of cathedrals?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In The Minster (part II)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So back to the Minster and positions of power!

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

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

In The Minster (part I)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MediaLit (part II)

Prayer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Monasticism and Asceticism (part III)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His love never quits!

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

Who is blameless before the LORD?

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

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

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

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

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

Deadly Theatre Deadly Worship?

I’m aware I haven’t written about theatre for a long time so I want to unpick some thoughts I’m currently wrestling with as I continue the long process of writing the book ‘God of the Gods’.

My placement this year has been focused on being in a ‘creative’ community and seeing what one might look like. (You can follow the placement through the ‘Theatre Church’ stream by searching this site.) My reflections have concentrated on the capitalist mentality that flows through both the process of theatre and our understanding of Christian community. I have written extensively on this theory but thought I might share aspects of it as it relates to thoughts on theatre from the man himself, Peter Brook.

The act of creating a piece of theatre should be a journey of discovery for all involved. The current economic climate, however, forces the focus away from the search for discovery to a mechanical, predictable process aimed at achieving the highest income for the lowest cost.

A producer, who holds the finances, in order to increase that potential investment, funds a startup productions in the hope of building both a portfolio, artistic clout and financial capital to further that aim. In order to gain the most income they need to produce a sellable product, something popular and so they invite ‘creative’ directors and/or writers to invent a concept or write a script that will meet those criteria. These ‘creatives’ are therefore conditioned to develop concepts or write scripts to pitch to a producer who decides whether it will make a return on their investment. Theatre is, therefore, often driven by the marketability of the product rather than the necessity of the expression itself. The creative act is done by a solo agent and is completed before the pitch is made in order that a clear ‘vision’ is communicated to the financier. The process to construct the product must be planned carefully in order that it is the most successful (success being both how well it embodies the original concept and the amount of people who consume it.) Auditions are held to get the right people for the right job/role. Actors are tested and interviewed to see who has the right skills to undertake the role in the shortest period of time. Rehearsals are characteristically one sided. Directors ensure that the actors are doing what needs to be done to create the product as the director/writer see it. The actors ask for clarification and performing the role as prescribed and not participating in a journey of discovery; they’re cogs in a machine.

Peter Brook notes,

…a theatre where a play for economic reasons rehearses for no more than three weeks is crippled at the outset. Time is not the be-all and end-all; it is not impossible to get an astonishing result in three weeks…But this is rare… No experimenting can take place, and no real artistic risks are possible. (Peter Brook, The Empty Space)

‘Deadly Theatre’, as Brook calls it, is one that lacks life. This, he suggests, is not as easily discerned as you might expect. For something dead can be dressed up to look alive like the lifeless puppet manipulated to imitate life. Can our Churches experiment? Can they, what theatre practitioners call, ‘play’? Can they take real ‘artistic’ risk? I’d argue ‘no’. If every Sunday, or what ever day the community worships, is a ‘performance’ to lure in seekers then there is no space for risk. If something ‘fails’ then it will impact potential clients. If we can begin to call the seeker-friendly service a performance then our ‘rehearsal time’ is one week! Brook continues,

The artistic consequences are severe. Broadway is not a jungle, it is a machine into which a great many parts snugly interlock. Yet each of these parts is brutalized; it has been deformed to fit and function smoothly… In such conditions there is rarely the quiet and security in which anyone may dare expose himself. I mean the true un spectacular intimacy that long work and true confidence in other people brings about – in Broadway, a crude gesture of self-exposure is easy to come by, but this has nothing to do with the subtle, sensitive interrelation between people confidently working together. (Peter Brook, The Empty Space)

This kind of theatre is like a disease spreading through our culture. The big West-End musicals are all veneer with no substance of necessary expressions of human beings. Audiences are fooled into thinking that the more jolly, colorful and expensive the design the more ‘theatrical’ it is. No one questions this shallow performance style which has seeped into classic works such as Shakespeare making words that have so much potential life become boring. We have all become accustomed to it and so no longer crave the pure, life giving theatrical art.

In churches, regular congregations have become accustomed to the lifeless worship that is dressed up to imitate life. These imitations take on may forms depending on a particular tradition. The pentecostal inspired charismatic services need only to increase the volume and emphasize the rhythm to bring on their ‘spiritual’ highs. Watchman Nee says,

We have heard people say that…the moment they hear the sound of the organ and the voice of singing their spirits are immediately released to God’s presence. Indeed, such a thing does happen. But are they really being brought to the presence of God? Can people’s spirits be released and drawn closer to God by a little attraction such as this? Is this God’s way? (Watchman Nee, The Latent Power of the Soul)

What are we aiming for in community? In Christian community I’d suggest that we are aiming to share the fruit of the Spirit in the character of Christ to be reconciled to God and one another. In our worship, therefore, we need to be praying and living in the power of the Spirit. That Spirit will then go out from us to the others and unite us all together and bring us resurrection life; life that will not end. In theatre community I’d suggest the aim is similar. We are looking for a life that inspires each person to express themselves in a communal expression. Our self expressions can be affirmed as holding ‘truth’ by inspiring something within the whole community. Thus, that which is life to the individual participant is shared and encourages the other to experience life themselves. How do we discern whether a piece of theatre or an act of worship has ‘life-giving life’? Watchman Nee distinguishes between the life of the soul and the life-giving life of the Spirit,

“The first man Adam became a living soul; the last Adam became a life-giving spirit.” (1 Cor 15:45)… The soul is alive. It has its life, therefore it enables man to do all sorts of things…The spirit, however, is able to give life to others and cause them to live… “It is the spirit,” says the Lord, ‘that giveth life; the flesh profiteth nothing” (John 6:63) (Watchman Nee, The Latent Power of the Soul)

Here it is important to state, one can perform a piece of theatre with life but it stops at self expression if it does not hold life-giving life or that which brings life to the observer/ the rest of the community. We are not searching for self expression but self expression within communal expression.

Christian community should pay attention to Brook’s warnings to theatre. We must discern carefully whether our self expressions don’t stop at the self but give life to others. We must be careful that our worship is not resuscitating our dead bodies for a moment but rather giving resurrected life. We can achieve this, I’m beginning to believe, by ‘playing’ constantly, feeling comfortable with others to experiment and to reject crude self expressions and aim for the self expression within communal expression that marks life-giving life to all. Feeling comfortable with others can only be achieved if we create space for vulnerability and commitment to community as a verb and not as a noun.

Finding God at the Other Extreme

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

London Calling (part VIII)

As I got home from my long placement in London I was relieved and surprised. Most of my reflections from my placement, on a personal level, revolved around the concept of home and what it means and the impact it has on ministry (see ‘London Calling (part V)‘ post). Having said all that about ‘home’ being a relationship or a state of mind where you feel safe to be vulnerable where you are known and allowed ‘to be’, I found myself associating home with a geographical location; I found myself saying “I just need to get home.” (meaning I need to go to a building in a place.) When I got there I was surprised that a) my home didn’t feel right or relaxing but b) I felt at home. My wife had been with me for five days and still I felt at sea but the moment I saw Durham Cathedral towering into the sky I was restful. My home was different but I still was restful.

As an introvert I put an emphasis on my place, my quiet time, my study! When I got there it had been taken over by my wife, who had been living in our house without me for 25 days. I didn’t feel bitter or shocked by the fact that she needed to go into this room and use the computer and the printer or that she needed to use it as space to put things out of the way. (I did feel upset that this space, this sanctuary had been defiled by alien and idolatorous objects like Body Shop products!) (That’s a joke!) I was remarkably calm about it because I felt close to people who had seen and been a part of a massive shift in my vocational journey and I was now surrounded, even though I hadn’t seen or spoken to them, by people who knew me, as I am now not how I was. I didn’t need to be in a space, talking with them, but I knew they were close and it reminded me of what I was doing.

Then it struck me. My big issue and conflict with my placement was not that what this community were doing was bad or wrong, necessarily, but that I had moved on and I hadn’t realised it. It had been like looking in a mirror after fifty years and not recognising yourself.

All my difficulties, my thoughts and reflections clashing with the people around me, my concept and passions being questioned, My ideas not fitting in with the ministry of the church, all it came down to was this church was what I had known and worked in but I had been formed and shaped for different things.

During my time down in London I had visited my ‘sending’ church, a place where I had served for a year, full-time. When I got there I found myself frustrated and restricted, ‘home’ had changed, or rather I had changed. The person I was is no longer and I had been shaped into something else. When did this change happen? I do not know but all I know is that it has happened.

C.S. Lewis tells the parable of two men travelling over the border from France to Belgium. One is awake at the crossing and could tell people the exact time of the change from France to Belgium, how he felt and how it happened. The other man is asleep and so doesn’t know those details, the only thing he is certain about is that he is now in Belgium. This parable describes the act of conversion but is useful for this scenerio as well… I am now in Belgium! (this analogy must stop here because I’ve been to Belgium and it’s not the same feeling being in Belgium as being in this new mindset!)

So what has changed?

The churches I had been a part of in the past were in a model of Church that was still set in a Christendom mindset. “What is Christendom?” I hear you ask. Well I had a vague understanding of this concept but I felt I needed to go and do some reading to help me process the frustration, difficulties of the placement in London and was recommended a book by Stuart Murray, ‘Post-Christendom’.

Before I go any further I’d like to give a brief review of the book and talk about the concepts it raises. If you’re anything like my wife and think that philosophical and theological debate is a little dull and you read these blogs for the story and personal touches then you may want to skip this bit!

‘Post Christendom’ is really insightful, well researched and has, on the whole, a balanced and fair assessment of the history of the Established Church, finding positives as well as negatives of the growth and changes of the Church in Europe (mainly) over the centuries. One problem I think I have with it is its Anabaptist bias. Anabaptists are a denomination of church that grew out of the Reformation and were, apparently, modelling post-Christendom structures and principles of church. This is the weakness of the book but I’m unsure how great this Anabaptist model of church was without further research.

The basic idea of Christendom, being put forward by Murray, is it is a geopolitical structure established, in part, by Constantine in the 4th century and was built around the Roman Empire and was translated for the Latin culture across Europe into the medieval period. Christendom was the development of a Jewish sect into, what we now know as, the established church of Christ. Christendom is the developed hybrid of state politics and institutional religion. There is a whole biblical interpretation that has grown up as ‘orthodox’ in this system along with an established way of doing church and mission. Murray goes through these and charts the development of ideas such as infant baptism becoming the normal practise, compared with the Early Churches favoured lengthy induction programme for those choosing faith.

Many theologians are now looking at the shift in Europe and the UK from Christendom to an unknown era, currently called ‘post Christendom’. Post Christendom is uncharted territory but needs careful consideration and thought as to how we structure church, engage in mission and interpret scripture. There are many thoughts on how this could be done but the main direction this thinking is taking is towards smaller communities that has a voluntary membership and induction, that prefers dialectic preaching which focuses on exploration of faith. When it comes to mission, so Murray suggests, this ‘post Christendom’ model of church will have a greater emphasis on priesthood of all believers to the extent that it is natural for all members to engage in mission because there will be little distinction between clergy and laity. leaders will be chosen from within the community based on spiritual maturity rather than academic and intellectual prowess.

Those of you who skipped that last bit you can start reading again!

I want to stress that the Christendom model of church (one that is leader led, clergy focussed, monologue based sermons, front led services, etc.) has its strengths. Christendom models of church emphasise a great call for networking, sharing resources and knowledge. The size and stretch of the ‘established/inherited’ church means that a faster impact can be made on our culture and those congregations that struggle financially are supported by others. Christendom is great at attracting those in the world who appreciate the heritage of England and the UK; the truth is Christendom is in this countries DNA whether we like it or not and so it’s important to acknowledge that and to maintain the strengths and positives of that heritage.

My personal issues with my placement church are that I don’t get excited nor do I see myself serving in this model of church. Up front leaders speaking monologue style at their congregation is too much like performance in a theatre. It gets complicated when trying to say that preachers aren’t ‘performing’ a sermon but sharing ideas and reflections on the world and the Word. From my experience leaders in this model of church sometimes pile a lot of pressure on themselves to drive the mission and vision of the church where I see a greater call for the community to drive things and the leader to be like the divine director (see ‘Divine Director (part I and II)‘ posts)

In the final days of my placement I was drawn to look at my journal which i have had since the start of my exploration of vocational ministry. I was struck by two things;

1) Words and pictures given to me years ago before I came to college clearly see me being ‘a part of a new movement’, a call to plant and grow communities and a sense of freshness to my ministry.

and 2) Ezekiel 3 (which has been a passage that has always struck me as important for my personal ministry) has a call to prophetic struggles from a prophet on the inside. It marks out the role of the prophet to call back to the margins those who are secure in the centre.

There’s a lot more reflections needed on my ministry but this new avenue of exploration has released me from a confusion that has clouded my thoughts throughout the placement and afterwards. As I head towards the beginning of my term time placement, I spend less time concerned with what this community will look like but whether I am a humble, sacrificial leader who is able to focus on Jesus as the perfecter of my faith. My discipleship is essential to my leadership.

London Calling (part II)

I’m sat in the basement flat of my dear friend Jay. He is currently working as Worship Pastor of St Luke’s, Redcliffe Gardens. He’s working on some new worship songs, singing praise and getting lost in melodies. He is carefully constructing phrasings and chord progressions to communicate, to the best of his ability, his love and praise of God.

I met him two years ago when we both worked for St Stephen’s, East Twickenham, he as the Worship Intern and me as a Pastoral Assistant. Our friendship was one that was both a blessing to me and a source of real inspiration. Jay’s major strength, amongst many, is his unflinching love of God and, despite struggles and frustrations he feels, when he approaches the throne room of God he is freed, releasing his infectious, childlike excitement for his God.

As I watch and listen to him constructing songs of praise I got to thinking about the creative process and how we remain in the tension between spontaneity and polished performance. How do you capture the moment of inspiration, work it through to a concrete idea and not lose the power of the original emotion?

Peter Brook comments,

Here, the French word for performance – représentation – contains an answer. A representation is the occasion when something is re-presented, when something from the past is shown again… It takes yesterday’s action and makes it live again in every one of its aspects – including its immediacy…the more we study this the more we see that for a repetition to evolve into a representation, something further is called for. The making present will not happen by itself, help is needed…We wonder what this necessary ingredient could be, and we look at a rehearsal, watching the actors toiling away at their painful repetitions. We realize that in a vacuum their work would be meaningless. Here we find a clue. It leads us naturally to the idea of an audience; we see that without an audience there is no goal, no sense. What is an audience? In the French language amongst the different terms for those who watch, for public, for spectator, one word stands out, is different in quality from the rest. Assistance – I watch a play: j’assiste à une pièce… An actor prepares, he enters into a process that can turn lifeless at any point. He sets out to capture something, to make it incarnate…When the actor goes in front of an audience, he finds…an audience that by chance brings an active interest and life to its watching role – the audience assists… Then the word representation no longer separates actor and audience, show and public: it envelops them: what is present for one is present for the other.

For the person who leads worship there is a need for the corporate worship to assist them, it can’t be just them trying to repeat a song. The problem with this, however, is that the personal relationship with God remains (or should remain) constant and so the re-presenting of worship is not as clinical as the performance put forward by Brook. For the actor, also, there needs to be a personal response to the action, an internal memory of the original emotion. The issue, I think, is when you no longer feel the same way; in Christian worship terms, when you’re not in a ‘praisey’ mood but rather struggling through the mire.

Here is the point at which corporate worship helps. Jay admits

Seeing one other person responding to God reminds me that God is bigger than I know.

The importance of corporate worship is to witness God moving in other peoples lives. This reminder drives us to respond afresh to Him and re-present our worship. For the worship leader, in particular, an initial inspiration for a worship song may be long forgotten as (s)he repeats it in order to perfect it but when they see God moving through other people in worship then this will assist them to engage with the original emotion, reminding them of who it is they worship.

This quote also helps us to understand how we engage in worship. It is easy to blame the worship leader, the preacher or whoever on our lack of engagement and, at times these have some validity, but we come to encourage each other, to remind each other of God and thus it is our responsibility to ‘assist’ the saints in worship.

A word from Steven Croft (whose book, Jesus’ People, I still recommend)

Intercession and individual prayer are important but…Again Luke is referring to something the Church does together: the evolving rhythm of worship and common prayer, which has always been at the heart of the Christian community… You might think it would be normal for any Christian team or group or church to give careful and regular thought to the way in which it prays together. In reality it is surprisingly rare…

St Luke’s needs to hold onto their passion to pray and worship together, that it is the heart beat of all they do. For, as Steven Croft continues,

The road for renewal for many congregations does not lie in doing more but in reconnecting again with Jesus, the source of the Church’s life: through retreat, word and sacrament, and the fellowship and the prayers.

Sacramental Theatre (part IV)

I have recently discovered the back catalogue of the ‘Moot’ community blog!

What is Moot?

I have known about Moot and Ian Mobsby for some time now and have been tentatively reading round this community. Their website (www.moot.uk.net) is packed full of information about them, their philosophy and their approach to ministry. A summary of what they are;

‘Moot is a London-based community of spiritual travellers who seek to live in a way that is honest to God and honest to now.’

I’d encourage you to read through and discover what this ‘alt worship community’ are doing. I’m hopefully meeting up with Ian Mobsby, the minister in charge of Moot, in September so will be able to comment more on the community as whole then.

I have subscribed to their blog, written by Mobsby, and have been reading through some of their back catalogue. I passed on one of the essays on Twitter (A Theology for the Emerging Church) which outlines the type of church I would like to attempt in next years placement. Again, I can’t begin to add to or make significant comment on this essay; all I will say is I agree and would like to discover more! The theology helps me to understand and find peace in the tension I feel between my desire for both the incarnational theology of my former Catholic faith and the redemptive theology of my current evangelical faith. I find that I want there to be both and to hear this being fleshed out in such a way is encouraging.

Moving on…

The discovery which has excited me the most so far is a talk Mobsby made at ‘The Alternative Worship Conference‘ in Southwark Cathedral on 30th September 2006. Mobsby focuses his discussion on the alternative worship style of the club and dance genre which I have no experience or passion for. He does, however, give some general descriptions of what the alternative worship communities are doing. If you don’t read the whole article then I encourage you to go to the end of page 5 where he begins to answer the question “why is alternative worship important for the church to understand?”

‘[a] massive factor of why alt worship is important is to understand the hugely reinvigored interest in spirituality. Many people are spiritually searching, and seeking spiritual experience by trying lots of things out –although generally not traditional parish churches… Alt worship and emerging church communities, through relationship and worship seek to assist such people to shift from being spiritual tourists to being spiritual pilgrims through encountering God through people and worship.’

If I were to see my placement this year as an emerging church community then how would it ‘through… worship seek to assist such people to shift from being spiritual tourists to being spiritual pilgrims through encountering God through people and worship.’? I can see how ‘such people’ could encounter God through relationship with people but how do they do so in worship? What would worship look like?

‘So many alt worship groups put on worship events – where worship and mission blur to assist people in their experiential journey to God. So alternative worship seeks to provide opportunities for people to explore existential questions such as why am I hear, what does life mean, where is God and so on.’

Worship, for Mobsby, is an exploration of existential questions, it is experiential. What does this look like in a community of theatre practitioners? How would they encounter God through experience? Mobsby goes on,

‘stories or narratives are vital for people to engage in narrative forms of truth, and meaning. Story and story telling has a key place in our postmodern culture. So for example, people will use things like Godly Play in an alt worship way, or use bible stories to convey meaning. For example the story of the Prodigal son in its narrative form conveys more meaning to a postmodern culture than telling people the 10 commandments about what you should or should not do. The narrative is far more powerful than the propositional. And this is used in alt worship.’

Worship, therefore, is a chance to experience a story, to reflect on an experience lived out. To ‘perform’ or to tell the story of the last supper and allow the community to participate in the story opens up a way of being sacramental (see Sacramental Theatre (part I) post) and move this community closer to, potentially, being church. Mobsby opens up some more ideas when he discusses how alt worship communities do sacraments,

‘Sacramentalism is about the gift of grace God gives of being made present through the sacraments – usually communion or eucharist, or baptism etc etc. Alt worship takes this further. It draws inspiration from scripture about when it says where two or three are gathered I am there also, to see that God is made present sacramentally in many different ways and not just through priests but through the activities of Christians interacting with each other, other people, and the world. For example having a profound conversation with a few people in a pub when someone gains some form of eureka spiritual insight…In these holistic sacramental moments God makes God present in very secular places and makes them sacred moments or fragments…For me this is the essence of the power of alt worship. That challenges the church not to think it controls God or how God chooses to interact in and with the world in prescribed ways. God is not controlled through our rules, and alt worship playfully seeks to follow a God that is always slightly ahead of us and out of reach. It is a corrective to putting God in a box or believing that God can only work out of a book of authorised worship expression.’

I still struggle not to see some of the emerging church stuff as being manipulative. ‘Manipulative’ may be a strong word for it but Mobsby himself uses the word ‘subversive’ when talking about the approach to mission. I know of many times when I have been surprised to encounter God where I wasn’t expecting him but does this mean that we can get people into a room and surprise them if they don’t want to encounter God? What is evangelism if not allowing people to encounter God? How blatant must the intention be? As a missional alt worship community we can’t be secretive about our intention nor do we want to scare people away before they have the chance.

I have imagined, up to this point, that the relationship comes first in this placement. I want to work with some creative people and have some interesting chats and do ‘presence’ more than ‘proclamation’ but there is a nagging voice in my head that says this isn’t ‘proper’ until they have experienced God. I guess I need to learn to balance the passion for redemptive theology with my instinctive incarnational theology.

Mobsby’s views allow a theatre church to ‘be church’ and recognised within the Church of England but do I want the community this year to manipulate it’s participants? By no means! How, therefore, do I advertise? How Christian do I want this to be? I definitely don’t want it to be ‘Christian’ but I want all the potential members to know that they are coming as a form of spiritual seeking. Is this what the DST want? Are these people spiritual seekers? Thee only way I’ll find out is by trying it out.