Simon Marsh

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.

“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.

I’VE GROWN USED, here in Bramhall, to the nearby sound of trains rattling through the night. The sound of life trundling on is comforting and homely somehow. (Yes! - that would be it - 6 years old: Christmas morning: train track around the sofa …) And I’ve come to be able to recognise - by the sound of it, and the degree to which the house shakes - the length of a train, and whether it’s laden or empty. Empty goods trains rattle and grumble. Long after they’ve passed there’s a whispered memory. In my sleep I can still hear them muttering when they’re pulling into the yard up in Manchester. Whereas a fully laden goods train is very much quieter in the night. Much more purposeful. A quick swoooosh. Less invasive. On the way somewhere. A train to be waved to, with a smile. A train that someone might welcome or respond to. Purposeful trains don’t grumble on the line. They don’t rattle.

I like people who are carrying something, with a sense of purpose and a good intent. Last evening I had supper here with 30+ pastoral visitors. An exceptionally nice and gifted bunch of people, not a rattle or a grumble or a whisper amongst them. Synods and Conventions and empty words and journeys don’t feature much in their itineraries. Care of the housebound, care of their families, care in their community is very much more their thing. Here’s a goods train that’s carrying something, with a sense of purpose. Going somewhere. These are the Kingdom people. These are the people who spend less time dissecting the Word and more time living in Him. These are the people who pick ears of corn, on the Sabbath, with which to feed the hungry. Here’s … Immortal love, forever full, forever flowing free. Forever shared, forever whole, a never ebbing sea. For … Our outward lips confess the name all other names above: love only knoweth whence it came and comprehendeth love. (John Greenleaf Whittier). But it was a very substantial supper: so I’m off to the gym.

PS: Please see Fr Tony Clavier’s thoughtful article after Archbishop Rowan’s published Reflection this week …
 

WHAT WOULD JESUS SAY? – my friend Bill would almost always interject … sometimes to the considerable chagrin of one or two of us … who were very probably articulating our current flight of fancy at the time. What would Jesus say?

And the painful answer often was, and is, that we’re not entirely sure! And this is sometimes the more acutely painful because our human conditioning makes of us a people who want to be sure what we’re about, what we’re doing, what we’re believing. And – to complicate matters further – there are some folk who, in addition, want to be sure what others are about, or are doing, or are believing. This is real human commerce! This is the stuff of what it means to be community … to live together.

Archbishop Rowan speaks words of counsel to us in his The Challenge and Hope of Being an Anglican Today: A Reflection for the Bishops, Clergy and Faithful of the Anglican Communion. (see Ruth Gledhill)

Meanwhile in parishes around the globe we chatter about “Fresh Expressions”, of “Looking Outwards”, of “Justice” and of “Peace”; of mission and of schism, of unity and of disunity; of straight and of gay. And in all of this, and more, I’m endlessly interrupted by Bill’s “What would Jesus say?”

And difficult though it be I know that I ought to have a better idea of what Jesus might say to the Church in our day. I ought to have a clearer idea of what Jesus is saying to me. And so, deep down, I know that I must spend less time looking backwards, forwards, outwards, inwards or sideways, and learn to look upwards.

I’ll come to a clearer understanding of Jesus’ view of things when I study the Scriptures and share in the Sacraments with that openness of mind and heart that is invoked by true “worship in Spirit and in truth” … and when I remember, amidst the clamour and the clatter of life in the Church and in the world that whatever Jesus would say, whatever Jesus is saying, HIS tone is a “still, small voice of calm”.

Let me then pay more attention to “looking upwards”: more to worship, and to prayerful listening, than to soapbox flights of fancy … or good old (bad old) religiosity …

What would, what does, JESUS say?

WE’VE ALL SEEN IT: dozens of times. Little girl, maybe little boy, takes a tumble. The piercing howl of startled indignation, fear and pain — and the sound of a mummy, or a daddy, an aunt or an uncle, brother, sister or old, wise, friend — rushing headlong to the rescue …
 

Like Jesus. The One who comes to our rescue, the One who rebukes the “wild storm”, the One who asks us, like Corporal Jones, not to panic!

How often we see fear and panic in the Scriptures …

Jonah, running away from the call to Nineveh; Mary and Martha when their brother Lazarus dies; Jairus; High Priests, Pharisees and Scribes; Pilate hurrying to wash his hands; disciples in a boat … you’ll be able to add to the list all day …
 

God! Jesus! Teacher! Don’t you care?

And there was a dead calm. He said to them

Or how about

How often we see fear and panic in the Church …

Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori, Presiding Bishop-elect of the Episcopal Church in the United States of America, said (in a stormy environment) this week:
 

That kind of “internal peace” comes to us only when we hear and know that God does care; when faith assures that there’s no-one he doesn’t care for … not even those with whom we may most be at odds in the eye of this life’s storms … so:

I HAD A FRIEND AT SCHOOL, 30 odd years ago, who punctuated almost any conversation with “Yes, but hang on, we’ve got to factor in …” long before factoring in became popular usage in modern (industrial?) parlance. Whether we were building a go-kart, planning to ask a girl out, doing our Maths homework (or, in my case, not doing our Maths homework), James was after “factoring in” something or another. I think I must have caught the habit a bit …

Maggi Dawn has written well (if I may presume)

“spirit-led worship”

“It usually takes more than three weeks to prepare a good impromptu speech” - Mark Twain

Sermon-givers, worship leaders and spontaneous pray-ers, take note.

 

But I must factor in …

Here in Bramhall we had a fabulous Church Council Away-Day-But-At-Home today. Lots and lots of discoveries and re-discoveries about the Church, about Theology, about God, about sign and symbol, about liturgy and sacraments, about each other and our shared part in the perichoresis – the ‘dance’ of communication and pilgrimage between God the Holy Trinity and ourselves. All wonderful stuff.

But for me, the best part was the closing worship. Three groups were given 45 minutes to produce a half hour’s closing worship. Each of the three groups were given no more clue or direction than that they were each asked to contribute: an element of Word, an element of Prayer, and an element of Music. Each group reckoned either that it couldn’t be done or that it couldn’t be done in time.

At 2.30pm, in a semi circle, in our acoustically smashing parish hall (like so many parish halls!), with cd player, human voice, keyboard and bass guitar the offering of worship was, in my experience, simply outstanding. It was truly an offering and it was truly worship.

45 minutes’ preparation. And the liturgy began, hauntingly, with “Fanfare for the Common Man”.

Aye, James, “we’ve got to factor in” – THE HOLY SPIRIT.

PS - See also Maggi Dawn’s Planning vs Spontaneity

  

 

BRAMHALL’S ECUMENICAL CLERGY meet together every Thursday morning for prayer and reflection. For me this gathering contains the very stuff of “the balm of life, the cure of woe, the measure and the pledge of love.”

Pastor Jonathan Dawson gently led us through 1 Thessalonians 5 this week … “Do not quench the power of the Spirit”. Sometimes the gift of another’s ministry roots me to the spot. I was headed for the Funeral of a dearly loved fellow pilgrim, our friend, Dorothy Laidlaw. And to add to heaviness of heart I’d read a few of the early reports coming out of ECUSA’s General Convention.

Dorothy now knows God’s reward for her. The Funeral Thanksgiving reiterated our faith and hers. But the tearing in the heart of Christ’s Anglican Communion today, and the fault all unjustly laid upon the doorsteps of such a precious few, leaves me longing, still, for an end to these long running battles, each purporting to fight for the purity of our Christian faith.

Let me not forget, then, the power of the Spirit! God grant me to be faithful in the task of doing “good to one another and to all.” For though I can’t see a way out of the present impasse … and am quite obviously not alone in this inability, Pastor Jonathan reminded me that “The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do this”.

May the Lord heal and anoint his hurting people. May we rejoice in any and all who seek to praise God and tell of his great and redeeming love. May Christ inspire us again to hold in check our all too ready willingness to judge others. May he gently enable us to deal quietly and effectively with the mote that blurs our higher vision.

The bird on the branch, the lily in the meadow, the stag in the forest, the fish in the sea, the countless joyful creatures sing, God is Love. But beneath all these sopranos, as it were a sustained bass part, is the De profundis of the sacrificed, God is Love.

Søren Kierkegaard

Father in heaven, words cannot measure the boundaries of love for those born to new life in Christ Jesus. Raise us beyond the limits this world imposes, so that we may be free to love as Christ teaches and find our joy in your glory. 

 

 

And today these words encompass “anyone who infringes even one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same [who] will be considered least in the kingdom of heaven”. (Matthew 5.17-19)

I must therefore take very great care not to teach anything that may encourage anyone to infringe the commandments of the Law and the Prophets. But I carefully reflect upon Jesus’ words and, as always, they provide us with cause for faith and hope: for the one (every one!) who infringes the commandments is to be considered least in the kingdom of heaven … but is nonetheless IN the kingdom of heaven. Words don’t have the measure of who is born to new life in Christ, or how. Only Love does.

Vox Ultima Crucis

Tarry no longer; toward thine heritage haste on thy way, and be of right good cheer. Go each day onward on thy pilgrimage; think how short time thou hast abiden here. Thy place is built above the starès clear, no earthly palace wrought in so stately wise. Come on, my friend, my brother may enter! For thee I offered my blood in sacrifice.

John Lydgate, 1370-1450

 

 

JOAN BARKER WAS A MOST DEVOTED SACRISTAN when I was the Vicar of Ringway. Joan died, peacefully, earlier this year, after a long illness. And I have been thinking of her a great deal because of her lifelong devotion to St Anthony of Padua, whose Memorial the Church keeps today. Along with many thousands of others Joan would pray, through St Anthony, for the return of lost things. St Anthony once prayed for the return of his own stolen psalter (of incalcuable value to him in pre-printing days) and knew the joy of its being returned. Joan, too, was rarely disappointed through the years. I often witnessed the return of small items she’d reckoned lost, together with her ready, cheerful, gratitude to St Anthony. And though I’m not myself altogether convinced that the great Saint would be all that interested in my lost collar studs and fountain pens I bless Joan’s memory as I recall that, delighting in the Gospel reading for today, (Matthew 5.13-16 – “but if salt loses its taste …”) she would beg of St Anthony “to help restore the salt-taste in Our Lord’s beloved Church again”. Bless her. I expect that Joan will be a light set upon a mountain-top today!