Lenten Reflection

At the beginning of Lent, particularly on the first Sunday in Lent, traditionally is the time when we reflect on the temptations of Jesus. We are told that Jesus went off into the wilderness. We are actually told that the Spirit led him there. The wilderness is a bleak place, a lonely place, and there Jesus struggled as he reflected on the mission and ministry on which he was about to embark. How should it be approached? What were the priorities? When I was in the Holy Land, in December 2011, we drove from Jericho to Jerusalem and stopped on the way to get a brief experience of being in the wilderness. (Thus, the picture.) It was clearly very different from anything Jesus experienced to get off a mini bus and walk a couple of hundred of metres or so into the wilderness, but it was moving to spend that brief time there, and to reflect on the story of the temptations. The wilderness is a significant place. It can be a place of temptation or a place of reflective strengthening or, indeed, both. It is sometimes a struggle to get through it, but that needs to be done to get to the other side. It can be worth spending time in the wilderness, but few want to stay there too long. Interestingly, one of the other things I did in 2011, but earlier, in July, was to spend seven days at a Roman Catholic in centre on silent retreat. I had spent brief periods in silence before, but never more than a matter of hours. And, to be honest, I wondered how I would get on with seven days, my only conversation, twenty minutes or so each day, with a spiritual guide and attendance at a brief service of worship. That was my time of reflection and meditation, very different from Jesus’ wilderness experience, with good food and a comfortable bed apart from anything else, but an opportunity for a focussed time with God. And, by the way, I found it so helpful that it became the first of half a dozen or so such times across the latter years of my ministry, not always for as much as seven days, a couple were just three, though one was eight. Of course, most folk don’t get the opportunity for such an extended period of silence – and many would run a mile if it were offered, as I probably would have earlier in life. It is for us to each find our own way; but if Lent is about anything, it’s about really trying to find, even just a little, special time for God.

Speaking of Sin

I have just finished reading Barbara Brown Taylor’s “Speaking of Sin” and, as always, she has good things to say. Sin, as she recognises, has become an unfashionable theme, but that does not actually render it irrelevant. Part of the problem, though, is to fail to understand what it actually is, and another part is our inability to recognise the positive contribution that can be made when we recognise it in a good and useful way. As Taylor says, “I do not believe that sin is the enemy we often make it out to be, at least not when we recognize it and name it as such. When we see how we have turned away from God, then and only then do we have what we need to begin turning back. Sin is our only hope, the fire alarm that wakes us up to the possibility of true repentance.” She goes on to explore how we can engage with sin positively and how we might see it interacting with salvation. “Jesus might define salvation as recovery from illness or addiction, as forgiveness of debt, as peace between old enemies, as shared food in time of famine, or as justice for the poor. These are all outbreaks of health in a sin-sick world. Jesus saves because he shows us how to multiply such outbreaks, and because he continues to be present in them. Otherwise, we might call them good works or good luck. Instead, we have this sense that they come to us from outside of us. Our full participation is required, but that alone cannot explain the results, which are sometimes so astounding that we can only call them grace.” Perhaps the biggest problem with sin is that we don’t want to deal with it and its consequences in the way that we should. “Some Christians .. like to think of forgiveness as a giant eraser on the blackboard of life. But there is biblical precedent for the lasting effects of sins that have been forgiven. God forgave David for his murderous affair with Bathsheba, but their firstborn child still died. Jesus came to forgive the sins of the whole world, but according to his parable in Matthew 25, he will come again to separate the sheep from the goats. Forgiveness is a starting place, not a stopping place. It is God's gift to those who wish to begin again, but where we go with it gets up to us. … Most of us prefer remorse to repentance. We would rather feel badly about the damage we have done than get estimates on the cost of repair. We'd rather live with guilt than face the hard work of new life.” To quote the book’s title, ‘speaking of sin’ …..

Travels with a Stick

I recently read Richard Frazer's book “Travels with a Stick” in which he recounts something of his experiences walking a significant chunk of the Camino de Santiago. I always enjoy books about the Camino – I have read just a few, but it is encouraging to enter the experience of the pilgrims and inevitably hear something of their reflections. Richard is a Church of Scotland minister, now retired, but at the time of his pilgrimage and writing, the minister of Greyfriars Kirk in Edinburgh, so reflections with a distinctively Scottish and Presbyterian note which struck a particular chord with me. For example, I do like his reflection on Communion, with the interesting challenge that he throws in with the help of a friend of his. He writes: “The central part of the liturgy that most people know is the communion, the sharing of bread and wine that Jesus did on the night he was betrayed and arrested. Christians have been doing that since before they had Bibles, which is an interesting point to make to fellow Reformed Presbyterians who have often made a much bigger thing of the Bible than of the communion. In John's Gospel, on that last night before his arrest, Jesus doesn't share bread and wine; instead he washes his disciples’ feet. A priest friend of mine pointed out recently that the Christian church might have been quite a different organisation if we washed each other's feet every week!” One other example – I am also challenged by a reflection he offers on how folk see the church. He says: “In so many places the church has become an anxious institution, obsessed with its own self-preservation and nostalgic for a lost golden age. But here on the journey of the pilgrim, people just set off, not being sure, not being fettered by institutional boundaries, journeying with hope and even being prepared to get a little lost. Isn't this, I was beginning to think, a much more helpful approach to encounter mystery than the proscribed, dogmatic structure of institutions that often operate in a way that no longer makes sense to so many people?” Some interesting thoughts, inspired by what was clearly a fascinating and challenging experience. One last quote - “To be a pilgrim you don't have to jump through hoops or sign up to doctrines you'd rather question - you just have to set off! Indeed, that is what the first ever pilgrim, Abraham, did. Ripe in years, he just upped and left Haran with his equally ancient wife, Sarah, and the rest is history, as it were.”

Incarnational Ministry

I have just finished re-reading Sam Wells’ “Incarnational Ministry” – and so enjoyed its many words of wisdom. There are so many things to inspire. For example, on the Martha and Mary story, he writes: “Martha says she’s serving Jesus, but her notion of service is entirely on her own terms: she’s not giving him what he wants. Mary’s service doesn’t look like much, but it’s a statement of faith. Martha offers food; Mary shares communion.” Then, there are those things which are almost throwaway lines, like “I believe “with” is the most important word in the Christian faith.” There’s a lot there that is worth some reflection. Thinking about how we might interact with all that’s wrong in the world, he suggests, “Lament comes from a place of deep trust in the faithfulness of God and deep awe at the mystery of creation, which finds itself dismayed at the deep disgrace of events that surely reflect neither God’s character nor God’s will.” And then some words about engaging with the Bible – “Reading the Bible requires attention, delight, and enjoyment as well as entering into a mystery. The initial experience can be like reading a poem and finding oneself perplexed.” There is a lot more I would like to mention, but let me restrict myself to just one more, some great words of exhortation – “Wash one another’s feet, be the servant and slave of all, make every act of your life a sacrament of love to others and praise to God: for your existence is a miracle, and your redemption is amazing grace. And never cease from singing.” I can see this is a book I might well read yet again.

Michael Hollings

I recently read “Press On!” a book about Michael Hollings, his life and witness, which caught my eye in one of Hay-on-Wye’s many bookshops, when we were on holiday there earlier this year. Michael (1921-1997) was a remarkable man, a Roman Catholic priest for most of his life, after wartime service with the Coldstream Guards. He served in Soho, then as university chaplain in, first, London, and then Oxford, and then as parish priest in, first, Southall, and then Bayswater, that last from 1978 to 1997. He was particularly known for his availability to people, both through his firm open house lifestyle and his spiritual direction and letters, and also for his writing. The book, written by a number of friends and colleagues, commemorates his life by telling his story. The book reflects his wisdom and the wonderful way in which he pointed folk to God. For example, in a letter to his cousin Jock Dalrymple, when Jock was studying for the priesthood, he writes: “So long as you're striving after God, and fearing you're not getting anywhere, you are doing all right. Don't panic and don't over push; just keep going. It is when we sit back and get self-contented that we are slipping back and danger signals are showing.” Joan McCrimmon, for many years his publisher, speaks of how he demonstrated the Christian life: “Prayer for him was not only about making requests to God, it was about sharing our feelings, our fears, our guilt, our sadness, loss, anger and frustration. It was about coping with life situations. Nor was it all doom and gloom - far from it. Prayer was very clearly also about celebrating life's joys and achievements, and giving thanks.” Needless to say, I never met him, but I was certainly aware of him, especially in my early ministry, and three of his books – all of which I still have – were important and helpful to me – “I Will Be There”, a series of reflections on the ‘I am’ sayings in John’s Gospel; “Day By Day”, reflections on prayer; and, most especially “Living Priesthood”, in which he explores ministry and its various dimensions.

Celebrating Life

I recently read Jonathan Sacks' "Celebrating Life" in which he dips into all sorts of themes looking for, and finding, the positive. The book reflects its sub-title "Finding Happiness in Unexpected Places". Just a couple examples of the book's themes. One is faith. Sacks writes: "Faith is not certainty. It is the courage to live with uncertainty. It is not knowing all the answers. It is often the strength to live with the questions. It is not a sense of invulnerability. It is the knowledge that we are utterly vulnerable, but that it is precisely in our vulnerability that we reach out to God, and through this learn to reach out to others, able to understand their fears and doubts. We learn to share, and in sharing discover the road to freedom. It is only because we are not gods that we are able to discover God.” He also writes about change, something which we all seem to find challenging. “Change is not threatening, so long as we keep firm hold of the values by and for which we live. We can travel with confidence so long as we have a map. We can jump with safety knowing there is someone to catch us as we fall. It is when we lose these things that change creates anxiety. It is when we think that, because technology is changing, our values too must change that we create problems we cannot solve, fear we cannot confront.”

Defenceless Flower

I have just re-read Carlos Mesters’ “Defenceless Flower”, which has been on my bookshelf for many years, though it is also many years since I read it. Mesters explores the use of the Bible from a liberationist perspective in a highly engaging way, recognising the value of scholarship and traditional and academic techniques of interpretation, but juxtaposing these with, and recognising the equal value, of the Bible as the mirror of the people’s lives. Mesters says this: “The great majority of people in the basic ecclesial communities are poor or, more exactly, impoverished by the oppressive capitalist system; they are farmers, workers, people from the outskirts of the big cities, farmhands, day-labourers, occasional workers, migrants, domestic servants, laundry-women, squatters, and so forth. When these people deal with the Bible their attitude is not (yet) secularised. For them the Bible is the word of God giving them God's message today. ……. When they discuss a text the people at the same time discuss their own situation, without making much of a distinction, either on the level of methodology or content. Biblical history, without ceasing to be history, becomes a symbol or a mirror of the present situation as the people experience it in their community. Life and Bible mix. There is both mutual interference and illumination.” He also says: “In the people's eyes the Bible and life are connected. When they open the Bible they want to find in it things directly related to their lives, and in their lives they want to find events and meanings that parallel those in the Bible. Spontaneously they use the Bible as an image, symbol or mirror of what is happening to them here and now.” Here is a timely reminder to allow the Bible to engage appropriately with each and every context.