Simon Marsh

SEVERAL FRIENDS AND COLLEAGUES attended the recent Thanksgiving Service for the late Bishop Morris Maddocks – a well-known instrument of God’s healing in the English Church. They’ve reported a wonderful occasion at St Michael le Belfrey in York. The Bishop’s own Trumpet Theme for Organ was played before the Service and the Archbishop of York, Dr Sentamu was the preacher.

I thought of Maggi Dawn’s delightful accounts of the observable humanity in the Archbishops’ recent visit to Cambridge when a friend and colleague said of Archbishop Sentamu: “He’s not a very big man, but you can’t not know he’s there! He lights up something inside you. He literally cares.”

And that’s what drew so many to Bishop Morris. That’s what drew so many to Jesus. That’s the stuff of real good news. Something lighting up inside you. Something or someone that reminds you that you’re loved today and forever. The Eucharistic service for the occasion was adapted from the Kenyan Rite, 1989. It tells us where the light comes from:

Is the Father with us? He is.

Is Christ among us? He is.

Is the Spirit here? He is.

This is our God. Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

We are his people. We are redeemed.

Redeemed. Morris Maddocks and John Sentamu, like Jesus, have long looked as though they believe it! We are redeemed. And can each of us, therefore, become instruments of healing.

WHAT AN EXTRAORDINARY JOY it was to be present at the Inaugural Conference of the new Affirming Liberalism network at Trinity College Oxford yesterday. Not much of a “party affiliated” person by nature I was surprised by the enthusiasm with which I greeted news of a new liberal-minded network within the Church of England.

But then it’s true that I’ve grieved in the past decade or so as I’ve watched fellow Christians become more and more deeply entrenched in one degree of “certainty” after another. It’s true that I’ve been distressed by my own disinclination to “fight back”. It’s true that my theological inclinations have always been more ready to seek out affirmations than assertions. So the 10 Affirmations unexpectedly set before my eyes by Affirming Liberalism were bound to bring a measure of relief and joy to my heart.

Affirming Liberalism seeks to enhance the ‘enrichment’ of the Christian faith and support ordained and lay Christians of the Liberal Anglican tradition by:

Affirming faith in Jesus’ life, teaching, death and resurrection as revealing God’s limitless love for all humanity in this life and the next.

Affirming the dynamic action of the Holy Spirit in dispersing this divine love throughout the world.

Affirming the positive impact of biblical, literary and historical criticism for our engagement with Scripture and Tradition.

Affirming appreciation of the distinctive nature of religious language in vibrant worship which connects us to the divine.

Affirming a philosophical approach to Christian faith and the search for truth through God-given reason.

Affirming the positive insights of the natural sciences and mathematics in the formation of a Christian world-view and understanding of the universe.

Affirming the positive impact of the social sciences for understanding human nature and society, and developing Christian ethics.

Affirming the vitality of the performing and creative arts in shaping a dynamic Christian vision of life lived in relation to God.

Affirming open, creative conversation with Evangelicals and Catholics as a means of enriching our understanding of the Christian gospel.

Affirming open, creative conversation with other faith traditions and cultures as a way of deepening our understanding of God.

SELF-AWARENESS, VOCATION, AND HOW?

How did Jesus prepare for leadership without the “help” of mission statements, or identifying key people, or setting targets? How did Jesus survive a wilderness environment that reduced him, body and soul, to barest essentials, leaving his character and instincts starkly exposed, whipped by the razor-sharp winds of the desert? How did he survive, with no apparent external assistance, to shore him up or sustain him? My dictionary speaks of wilderness as an uncultivated, uninhabited, and inhospitable region. Tough training indeed. Even yomping SAS commandos have a bit more moral support around them than was available to Jesus.

APPEARING NOW TO LEAP FROM ONE SUBJECT TO ANOTHER

It’s Thanksgiving Sunday at St Michael & All Angels’ next week. The (actually only one) occasion in the year when it’s the Vicar’s task to encourage one and all to think and pray about what we might contribute to the work of God’s Church in terms of time, talents and money. And we’re all encouraged to think and to pray precisely because no-one else is equipped to tell us what we can or cannot afford to give or to do. Only we can know. Only we ourselves can square up to exactly what our relationship with God and the gifts he’s given us is. Only we, as individuals, can really know whether we’ve anything in our lives to be thankful for, or not.

“WILDERNESS” & THANKSGIVING ARE LINKED!

What kind of training and help do I need in order to arrive at a good decision about what I may or may not offer back to God? Is there anyone whose example I might follow? Is there man, woman or child who has risen above the grubby business of self-interest and temptation; anyone I can look up to, be inspired by, want to emulate? Where could I engage such a person in conversation? Where could I learn what inspired and motivated him or her? How can I learn not to feel pain when I give something away, but rather to revel in the laughter and joy of God’s creation itself? How do I learn to be a cheerful giver? Who am I? What am I called to be and do? And how?

THERE’S AN “ESSENTIALS” CLUE IN THE “WILDERNESS” …

I learn how to give when I’ve been to a place, in person or in spirit, where I’ve been brought face to face with reality; where I’ve been shown who and what I am; where I’ve come to know without shadow of a doubt that I am loved by my Creator, who is ALMIGHTY GOD, forever and ever, and that “I shall lack nothing”. I learn how to give when I’m even slightly more interested in even occasional quiet spaces alone with God than I am in my social life or in what I possess, or might some day possess. I learn how to give, and I learn how to love, and I learn how to “live life in all its fullness” on the very day, and in the very hour, and in the very moment, when I allow all of MY character and all of my instincts to be starkly exposed … to the inexpressible beauty, and the unimaginable generosity, and the surpassing glory and assurance, of GOD — who loves me, FOREVER.

PASSING ON THE LIGHT is so much more fulfilling an exercise than passing on the gloom! Advent is truly a gift to us, as are the people we “wait” with. 70+ people have set about looking at Beginnings and Endings this week, here in Bramhall. There’s been plenty of laughter and discovery and wonder … and friendships forged the more firmly as always happens when people make pilgrimage together.  And in a completely dark church building this evening there appeared first one light, and then another, and another, until the faces of a large throng were transfigured, and in our hearts the chief among the Advent songs was that of Gabriel. “Do not be afraid”. May we bear the Light; pass the Light on and on through the darkness. May we be not afraid, anymore.

MUCH TO OUR GREAT DELIGHT about 35 of us sat down “with” Maggi Dawn this morning. Others are readying themselves in-between times for a gathering tomorrow evening. Someone said at the end of the session this morning how struck they’d been by the musicality in most all of our beginnings and endings. Certainly it was true that a large gathering of friends hearing and telling “our story” brought to mind many a song; and a spot of liturgy:

Blessed are you, Lord God, our light and our salvation; to you be glory and praise for ever. From the beginning you have created all things and all your works echo the silent music of your praise …

 

Common Worship on the subject of common worship … and the possibility of just that, and of wondrous story-telling, and of beginnings and endings to be perceived and known and heard in oceans of wondering, creative silence …

Hey, Maggi, we’re enjoying this Adventing … and we haven’t really got started properly yet! xx

One of a series of new welcome videos for St Michael’s Bramhall

Canon Lucy Winkett 

A DOZEN YEARS have passed since a deeply generous Episcopalian parish priest honoured me with the gift of an inscribed (Episcopal) Book of Common Prayer. I’d been invited to preach at the wonderfully celebrated marriage of a friend in the delightful Christ Church, Covington, Louisiana .

Fr Steve’s inscription inspired and touched a nerve in me. “My life is richer for your having visited, and the bonds of our faith are stronger for your being such a grace. Many, many thanks. Shalom. Shalom”.

What an immense kindness. What immense hospitality and graciousness of soul. I struggled to believe that I could have been much of a grace, but the benediction has many times spurred me on to seek to be such a grace … that “the bonds of our faith” might be stronger.

And I’ve since tried actively to seek out people who bear the grace of God to a Church and to a world that are striving now, as always, that the much sought after, and apparently so elusive, “Peace of God” may prevail. And I continually rediscover that there are many such people; many now who grace the world with the angelic blessing “Do not be afraid! I bring you good news”; many who “visit” us and make our lives richer.

Can I name a few? Certainly. Have a look at Archbishop Rowan’s ‘Scriptures in Monotheistic Faith’; and at Maggi Dawn’s Beginnings and Endings; and sit down for a while, close your eyes, and listen to Lucy Winkett’s ‘Our Sound is our Wound’.

Immense hospitality and graciousness of soul: “that the bonds of our faith be stronger.” God is good. Brighter days will dawn as we “seek peace and pursue it”.

 

THERE WILL PROBABLY HAVE BEEN TIMES in your life when you’ve been able to say with the priest and poet, R S Thomas, that God comes

That’s so often how it is with the coming of God. Unannounced simplicity. No immediate expectation that we should behave in a particular way. No expectation that we should speak in an out-of-the-ordinary or convoluted theological language. No expectation that the “saving of souls” will make clearly defined or absolutist demands of human-kind, save for the Divine expectation of the God newly arrived in the back-streets of Bethlehem, that some one might pick up a Christ-child and hold Him close to their heart for to keep the little Chap warm.

This little Jesus teaches you and me how we are to be bridge-builders. This little Jesus is Pontifex — the bridge-maker, Emmanuel, God amongst us, the great High Priest, the Son of the Most High, the sacrifice or Christmas present of Almighty God Himself to His beloved world. This little Jesus is God come among us. We are to be little like Him. We are to be loved and we are to love. We are to be remarkable, at Christmas-time and through all time, for the absence of clamour; knowing that Christ leads His children on to the place where He has now gone. Home.

¹ Suddenly - R S Thomas, COLLECTED POEMS 1945-1990

“FAMOUS FOR BEING INCLUSIVE AND WELCOMING, St Anne’s needs a priest with a compassionate heart and a wicked sense of humour …”

Hey! This is one of the most attractive Church Times adverts I’ve seen. What a cracking strap-line, modified just a tiny bit, for a vocations drive:

Famous for being inclusive and welcoming, the Church of England needs priests with a compassionate heart and a wicked sense of humour …

St Anne’s deserves a really top-notch new priest. May it be so for them. And us.

LIFE IS FULL TO BURSTING with beginnings and endings - though this page has seen a dearth of beginnings in recent months. My favourite bloggers go ‘blog lite’ from time to time … the muse dries up. Blogging is life “written down” after all, so we shouldn’t be surprised.

And then, every once in a while, something or someone really fires up the imagination again. Something or someone reminds us of the story. Our story. And that someone or something might be miles away, and never, for a second, dream of the effect they’re having on others.

Maybe Maggi Dawn has dreamed about having just such an effect. Perhaps that’s why she’s written one of the best books for Advent I’ve encountered in years. Here’s a book that will make Advent for you. Here’s a book that we’ll be using in Bramhall to get a grip again on what it’s all about. Here’s Beginnings and Endings: accessible teaching and encouraging reflection. Here’s a favour to the Church, a right royal blessing, an Advent in itself. Thanks Maggi!

Beginnings and Engings … buy yours and enjoy the Advent journey. 

WHENCE COMETH LOVE?

From he who has in him of she

for she who has in her of he

who was and is

Eternity

click photo for full resolution 

WHAT WAS YOUR PERSPECTIVE

on the world when you were housed

here?

Was this shell a warm place -

a cocoon of security

a window through which you might gaze

out upon a world

more colourful than you?

Were these polished walls a safe haven

in the hours of your vulnerability? The soft

sensitive facets in me would be glad of such

a splendid shell as yours

from time to time

And yet I own gladness that I may stand for

your protected fragility is no more

and amongst the joys of today’s peaceful shore

I found only your shell and an echo

in what was once your land

 
Grateful thanks to Andrew Rudd, Cheshire Poet Laureate 2006, for inspiration and encouragement

TRUTH TO TELL, I’m looking forward to meeting with a few angels, archangels, cherubim and seraphim some glad day in heaven. I’ve a host of questions I’d like to ask them … perhaps especially of St Michael. But in the meantime it’s a huge relief to me to know that there are no angels, in the literal sense, amongst the ranks of the clergy, and no angels, in the literal sense, in our earthly church congregations either. In the context of life in this world I’d feel perpetually shambolic, a walking failure, a disaster on legs — if I was bumping into an Archangel around every corner. Heavens! I’ve still so much to learn about the population of Heaven. I still have some more spots to be knocked off, and some more “eternal manners” to learn before I could be very comfortable, I think, at high table in the courts of God’s Everlasting Kingdom.

Actually, life as a parish priest would probably have been considerably easier for me had I been called forth from the ranks of the angels instead of from the line of boys queuing up for school dinners. But there it is. The Bishops have only human beings to choose from. And come to think of it, that maybe makes life a little easier for the other human beings who make up the Body of Christ now at work in this world. For we’re all in the same boat, so to speak. We’re all being honed, fined tuned, having the rough edges rounded off a bit. Like the Apostles who spent time with Jesus in and around the shores of Galilee, we’re to spend some time with Jesus around the shores of our own neighbourhoods and beyond. And the daily encounters with him bring about a gradual dawning in us: that though we be no angels ourselves, we do company with them. When we think about it we recall that there are one or two angel-like people here and there, as well as the heavenly beings who join us when we pray, alone, or assembled as the Eucharistic community should and does, around the table of the Lord.

“I give you a new commandment, that you love one another.” - John 13:34

THIS IS A TOUGH CALL! “Love your neighbour as you love yourself.” And Jesus goes further: “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you”. Yes, a tough call. But especially difficult to argue the toss in the (resurrection) light of the fact that it comes from the One who was just about to “lay down his life for his friends”. There’s no avoiding that the community of the baptised is to lay down its life, in order to take it up again with Christ; renewed, again and again.

OK. The principle’s agreed: so how? Well first by learning to be silent sometimes, and by listening to what people have to say. This takes us, secondly, to a place where we’re given opportunity to understand them. Care-full listening can mean that we’re not overlaying own expectations and ideas upon others - at least at first. Care-full listening allows those we’re called to love to be themselves and to reveal themselves … a bit like the best stillness we can achieve will just occasionally encourage the shy hedgehog to ease up enough to unwind and show us his face. So, thirdly, the listener and the listened-to begin to affirm each other, and others, for the people they and we are, and for the people they and we strive to be. The Risen Lord asks of us that we love one another. And when we get better at it, when we love carefully, our lives are deepened and enriched. When we love carefully a little more of God’s Kingdom is established … “on earth as in heaven.”

PADDY ANGLICAN warms to Real Live Preacher’s “Finding God” like I do …