Wednesday, 6 December 2017

The 5th

God’s endless love contradicts the world and upsets all its pretentious meanings. The world seeks glory, honor, pleasure, pride, freedom from suffering, greed, hatred, resentment...But the God-Man chose utter poverty, insults, torment, ridicule, hunger, and thirst.

Catherine of Siena

I've made a conscious effort to move away from the more commercial side of Christmas to concentrate on keeping it simple; focusing on family, community (church, work and local) and simple pleasures. Finding joy in the small things has made me more content.

Today I found joy in sharing a meal with my family, I was thankful for my husband doing a few small jobs I'd asked him to (it means his mental health is good) and I felt helpless about night shifts cutting short the time I have with my children.

Scripture
By the tender mercy of our God,
    the dawn from on high will break uponaus,
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
    to guide our feet into the way of peace.
Luke 1:78-79

Monday, 4 December 2017

The 4th

This is an extract from today's daily meditation from Richard Rohr:

James Finley learned from [Thomas] Merton while living at the Abbey of Gethsemani from 1961-1967. He reflects that Merton believed the world could not survive if religion remained at the clannish level. This false competition doesn’t serve anyone. On the other hand, openness to other traditions can and should deepen our commitment to our own faith and practice. This is one of the primary fruits of obeying Jesus’ simple command to “love our neighbor.” I presume loving others means listening to them and respecting them as brothers and sisters.

The only way we can learn is through an open mind and listening to others. It's fascinating that so many other faiths and traditions have winter festivals- what similarities are there? What's different? I love hearing not only about other people's Christmas traditions but the traditions of other faiths and cultures.
There should always be time for looking outwards at Christmas, assessing the bigger picture, connecting with people, thinking outside of our smaller communities to the bigger things we're a part of. I'm lucky that Manchester is such a diverse city, it's an amazing place to experience. I also work in an incredibly diverse environment with people from all over the world.

Today I felt joyful talking to an old friend, am thankful for my children's health and felt helpless not being able to give my patients the answers they want.

Scripture
I delight to do your will, O my God; your law is within my heart.’
Psalm 40:8

Sunday, 3 December 2017

The 3rd

We have to be candles, burning between hope and despair,
faith and doubt, life and death,
all the opposites.

(William Brodrick)

This is part of today's reflection from The Northumbria Community. The reflections are cyclical so I'm pretty familiar with many of them and this is the section of today's which always stands out for me.
It emphasises for me that life is not dualistic; whilst it lists opposites I believe it means we are forever in motion on the spectrum between the opposites. We are never fully one thing or another. There's also the challenge to be a candle on this spectrum- to both draw people to us and to illuminate.

This is really helpful I think when experiencing advent in our mostly secular country. We're both trying to prayerfully and patiently wait and prepare for Christmas day, and yet we're also caught up in many of the celebrations around us - this doesn't mean we aren't getting spiritually prepared too.

Today I found joy in leading our monthly family service, I was thankful that I'm entering Advent much more at peace than in previous years and I felt helpless over not getting enough sleep.

Scripture:
But I trust in you, O Lord; I say, ‘You are my God.’ Psalm 31:14

Saturday, 2 December 2017

The 2nd

My daughter often tells me she hates silence. I love it. If I had a magic button that could do one thing (I was asked this question in a Facebook group this week) it would cause silence to fall instantly. We need to learn to find space for silence, to not find it scary but comforting; to know it's a place where we can uncover marvellous truths.

Today I found joy in sharing cappuccinos with my family, I was thankful for all four of us being together for the whole weekend and I felt helpless at knowing the busyness of life will return and be unrelenting when I return to work on Monday.

Today’s Meditation:

If I chose to hide you away, it is for a reason.
I have brought you to this place.
Drink in the silence. Seek solitude.

Listen to the silence.

It will teach you. It will build strength
Let others share it with you.
It is little to be found elsewhere.

Silence will speak more to you in a day than the world of voices can teach you in a lifetime.
Find silence. Find solitude – and having discovered her riches, bind her to your heart.

Frances J. Roberts

Scripture:

Every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift, is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.
- James 1:17

Friday, 1 December 2017

The 1st

It's that time of year again where I try to blog each day. I do this for Lent and Advent as it helps me to focus each day on the spiritual preparation that leads up to Easter and Christmas.

I had all sorts of ideas of what I might do for Advent but as the simplest idea is usually the most achievable I'm using Mary Fleeson's Advent prayers and the daily readings and meditations from The Northumbria Community, probably with a bit of Richard Rohr thrown in! Ok, that sounds more complicated than it is.

The prayer card suggests that each day you write down something that makes you joyful, something which you're thankful for and something which you feel helpless about. Whatever your belief system this is a useful way to evaluate and reflect upon your day.

I've been off work all this week to try and prepare myself (both physically by sorting out stuff at home, and mentally by finding some head space) for Advent. For the rest of the world Christmas has already begun, but in my tradition of the Anglican faith, and especially for myself as a priest, it's a time (like Lent) of spiritual preparation, patience, anticipation and waiting.

Four years ago on Advent Sunday I preached my first sermon, all about the anticipation of Advent. It's a difficult balance to find between wanting to celebrate - to immerse myself in the festivities around me - and to keep it as a time of preparation. Chronicling all this in the blog helps me to hold that tension and keep that balance.

Today: I found joy in laughing with my family at the cinema (Paddington 2 - pure distilled joy), I am thankful that I was able to take leave from work this week and I feel helpless about certain unstable world political situations.

Reflection:
Hurry is an unpleasant thing in itself, but also very unpleasant for whoever is around it. Some people came into my room and rushed in and rushed out and even when they were there they were not there – they were in the moment ahead or the moment behind. Some people who came in just for a moment were all there, completely in that moment.

Live from day to day, just from day to day. If you do so, you worry less and live more richly. If you let yourself be absorbed completely, if you surrender completely to the moments as they pass, you live more richly those moments.

Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Scripture:
The only thing that matters is faith expressing itself in love. — Galatians 5:6

Sunday, 22 October 2017

Travelling Light

Sermon based upon Isaiah 35:3-6, 2 Timothy 4:5-17 & Luke 10:1-9

It’s become something of a tradition here at St Michael’s to dedicate the Sunday closest to St Luke’s Feast Day, the 18th of October, to a service of Wholeness and Healing. The author of the Book of Acts and Luke’s gospel is responsible for over a quarter of the content of the New Testament, so he’s a bit of a big deal when it comes to the history and theology of our church.

The link between Luke and healing is because of the belief he was a Greek physician. Other opinions are available but we take this opportunity as a community to pray for wholeness and healing, whatever that means to each of us.

Today’s gospel reading from Luke speaks of risk, vulnerability and urgency. I think if I was allowed I would have actually wanted to reverse the order of today’s readings and have the Luke reading first.

In it we see the instruction to the seventy chosen disciples to go out in mission, just as they are. No money, no possessions, no suitcase or rucksack. I don’t know about you but I’m a “pack for every conceivable scenario” kind of a girl.

This usually means I have a case or indeed car full of things I never use or need. What it does bring me however is comfort, I feel a gentle reassurance in having my “just in case” items with me.

The thought of going out, like these seventy disciples, with no purse, no bag and no sandals fills me with dread- never mind sandals I also need my walking boots, wellies, trainers and something pretty just in case we go somewhere nice!

But Jesus was preparing the disciples for a particular mission, preparing the way, in towns he would later go to himself. He was also asking a group of Jewish people to eat whatever was placed before them, whether it abided by the strict Jewish food laws or not. These people are being put right out of their comfort zone.

Finally, he tells them to cure the sick. It doesn’t elaborate whether this is through prayer or physical care, but the disciples have their instructions and are to get to it ASAP. No time for small talk. Off you go.

How scared, vulnerable and maybe even a little excited would they have been? It’s the beginning of an adventure but one where they risk losing everything.

So, if I were reversing the order of today’s readings I’d still put Paul’s second letter to Timothy in the middle. He reinforces our need to be missional people, Jesus has given us a ministry which we must carry out in full; God gives us strength for this.

Paul also serves as a reminder of the risks we take by following God’s will for our lives, and to be honest it’d probably put most of us off! He’s banged up in jail at this point, but crucially he’s still full of hope, happy in the knowledge that he’s followed the path set out for him. Paul’s very much a “bigger picture” sort of chap.

Finally, I’d have the Isaiah reading at the end as it shows us what’s possible when we follow where Jesus is leading or go where he sends us. It’s so poetically joyful!

Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened,
   and the ears of the deaf unstopped;
then the lame shall leap like a deer,
   and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy.
For waters shall break forth in the wilderness,
   and streams in the desert

If this were to happen, as the disciples go about the land, what truer sign would there be of the kingdom of God truly being near?

For many of us the words from Isaiah reflect a kind of healing, an idea of what wholeness in our relationship with God and indeed our lives and the world might look like. It’s something we long for but may never expect to experience.

I mentioned earlier that healing means something different to each of us, but I believe that central to it is the idea of the completeness of our relationship with God. There’s tiny glimpses in these readings of how we might be able to actually achieve this.

It’s important to remember that the instructions in our gospel reading aren’t being given to us but to a particular group of people, with a particular mission, two thousand years ago. That doesn’t mean there isn’t something we can’t learn, particularly about vulnerability and baggage.

There’s a quotation from Dorothee Soelle I’d like to share with you:

He who takes the most with him and leaves little behind, and therefore remains much the same as he was before, has little chance of finding what he seeks…he who does not give up anything cannot find anything…

We’re each carrying things with us which prevent us from moving forward, stops us from finding our true purpose and from being in a more complete relationship with God.

It might be stuff that like me with my holiday packing we hold on to for comfort. When our lives are so filled up with stuff we often lose sight of what really matters- we can’t hear over the noise of activity or see the spaces between the clutter.

We can also take baggage with us that we feel chained to, that we can’t shake off- whether the emotional baggage of a past we feel we can’t escape from or the obligations we feel locked in to.

Jesus advises to travel light because only then can we discern what’s of real value; only then do we create space in our lives to be filled up by God.

Healing is about transformation and we’re transformed when we set aside things which don’t really matter and give space to the things which do.

This can be scary, transition often is. We like comfort and we fear transition and change. Take away the familiar and the comforting and we’re vulnerable, but this is the model of being that Jesus has left us with; strength through weakness, life through death.

If we’re brave enough to model gaining strength through vulnerability others will see it and be less scared to do it themselves. Through this the words of Isaiah become more than just beautiful poetry, they become a fulfilment of prophecy and of God’s will for our lives.

We can achieve healing and completeness in our relationships, we can make peace with ourselves and with the world around us.
We can be a sign of hope, reconciliation and healing,
we can be water bursting forth in a desert.

It’s risky and it’s scary, to step forward and go out just as we are, and I don’t know how far down that path I am myself, but for a chance to live a healed, more complete, reconciled life it’s got to be a chance worth taking; to ask ourselves what do I need to let go of? What’s my baggage?

Because if we do this, dump the baggage and make that space for God, not only do we make ourselves more complete but we become God’s instruments of healing and reconciliation in the lives of others, and that’s got to be worth taking some risks.

Strengthen the weak hands,
   and make firm the feeble knees.
Say to those who are of a fearful heart,
   ‘Be strong, do not fear!

Sometimes we need to hear that ourselves and sometimes we need to be the ones saying it.

So I want to say to you “be strong and do not fear”, and you can say it back to me later if you like! We live in God’s love, he guides or steps, let’s see if we can take the risks he’s asking of us.

Amen.

Sunday, 17 September 2017

The F Word


Sermon based upon Matthew 18:21-35

I feel like poor Peter has come in for a bashing recently on Sunday mornings! So many of the gospel stories we’ve heard have centred on his ability to get things wrong, and that’s the case again today.

Peter thinks he’s being super generous, abundantly merciful, with his suggestion of offering forgiveness 7 times. The thing is, in the Jewish tradition and wisdom teaching God forgave 3 times and punished at the 4th offence, which I think comes from Amos where God forgives Israel’s enemies 3 times. Because humans could never be more gracious than God they could only forgive 3 times and no more, so Peter with his suggestion of 7 times, more than double what his culture taught, must have thought Jesus was going to be blown away by his answer.

Cue another instance of Jesus giving Peter a friendly pat on the shoulder as he shows that yet again his assumptions are very wrong, and states a figure of 77 times. This isn’t a literal 77, Jesus is using hyperbole and a playing on the words used in a verse from Genesis, referred to as the law of vengeance: If Cain is avenged sevenfold, truly Lamech seventy-sevenfold (Gen 4:24). Instead of extreme vengeance Jesus is calling us to extreme mercy and forgiveness.

To illustrate his point Jesus tells the parable of the unforgiving servant. The sum of money he owes, 10,000 talents is deliberately extravagant. It’d be millions today, this illustrates the extreme generosity, mercy and forgiveness he’s shown. The amount owed the servant, in which he shows no mercy, is just a few quid in comparison.
Jesus is illustrating that as God shows us radical forgiveness, we must respond to that by showing radical forgiveness to others.

I’ve been wondering this week what was it about the servant, after being shown such mercy and compassion, that failed to stir up the same mercy and compassion within him? What was is about his culture and background, his life experiences, that meant despite the extreme nature of the forgiveness he received, he was unable to show that, on a much smaller scale, to another?

I’ve probably mentioned it before but I’m a huge admirer of Desmond Tutu. His theology, his wisdom, the life he’s led, I admire him a great deal. A few weeks ago, I read some extracts from an article he’d written about forgiveness at our Thursday morning service, so apologies to anyone who was there when I repeat myself today.

His work regarding radical forgiveness, especially heading the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in post-apartheid South Africa is well known. During that process victims of human rights violations shared their stories, and perpetrators of those acts were granted amnesty. What might not be as well-known are the personal struggles he faced, particularly growing up with an alcoholic and abusive father.

He recounts witnessing his father abusing his mother and says this: When I recall this story, I realise how difficult the process of forgiving truly is. Intellectually, I know my father caused pain because he himself was in pain. Spiritually, I know my faith tells me my father deserves to be forgiven as God forgives us all. But it is still difficult. The traumas we have witnessed or experienced live on in our memories. Even years later they can cause us fresh pain each time we recall them.

Intellectually and from a position of people who belong to Christ we know forgiveness, radical and unconditional, is what we’re called to, but when the hurts run so deep our emotions blind us to what our logic or intellect might be telling us. The article continues:

I know [forgiveness] is the only way to heal the pain in my boyhood heart. Forgiveness is not dependent on the actions of others. Yes, it is certainly easier to offer forgiveness when the perpetrator expresses remorse and offers some sort of reparation or restitution. Then, you can feel as if you have been paid back in some way. You can say: "I am willing to forgive you for stealing my pen, and after you give me my pen back, I shall forgive you." This is the most familiar pattern of forgiveness. We don't forgive to help the other person. We don't forgive for others. We forgive for ourselves. Forgiveness, in other words, is the best form of self-interest.

Forgiveness takes practice, honesty, open-mindedness and a willingness (even if it is a weary willingness) to try. It isn't easy. Perhaps you have already tried to forgive someone and just couldn't do it. Perhaps you have forgiven and the person did not show remorse or change his or her behaviour or own up to his or her offences – and you find yourself unforgiving all over again.

It is perfectly normal to want to hurt back when you have been hurt. But hurting back rarely satisfies. We think it will, but it doesn't. If I slap you after you slap me, it does not lessen the sting I feel on my own face, nor does it diminish my sadness over the fact that you have struck me. Retaliation gives, at best, only momentary respite from our pain. The only way to experience healing and peace is to forgive. Until we can forgive, we remain locked in our pain and locked out of the possibility of experiencing healing and freedom, locked out of the possibility of being at peace.

This belief, of forgiveness bringing us Peace and Healing, was central to the Truth and Reconciliation commission. The acts requiring forgiveness would be to us inhuman, barbaric, and yet forgiveness, radical and Christ-like was offered.

These principals have been carried over into a UK based project backed by Desmond Tutu called the Forgiveness Project. It’s a charity that uses the stories of both victims and perpetrators of crime and violence to explore how ideas around forgiveness, reconciliation and conflict resolution can be used to impact positively on people’s lives. It’s non-partisan and non-religious but many Christian organisations have been involved as it so closely reflects Christ’s teaching.

It’s an encouragement to debate, not holding up forgiveness as an all-healing magic bullet, but rather an examination of forgiveness as a means to finding resolution, and hopefully, eventually, transformation. I really recommend exploring the project, reading some of the stories, because it’s a glimpse of the possible, and I believe a glimpse of Kingdom living.

I’ve used a lot of Desmond Tutu’s words today, and I’m going to use some more, because his lived experiences mean he puts this better that I ever could:
A human life is a great mixture of goodness, beauty, cruelty, heartbreak, indifference, love and so much more. All of us share the core qualities of our human nature and so sometimes we are generous and sometimes selfish. Sometimes we are thoughtful and other times thoughtless; sometimes we are kind and sometimes cruel. This is not a belief. This is a fact.

No one is born a liar or a rapist or a terrorist. No one is born full of hatred. No one is born full of violence. No one is born in any less glory or goodness than you or me. But on any given day, in any given situation, in any painful life experience, this glory and goodness can be forgotten, obscured or lost. We can easily be hurt and broken, and it is good to remember that we can just as easily be the ones who have done the hurting and the breaking.

The simple truth is, we all make mistakes, and we all need forgiveness. There is no magic wand we can wave to go back in time and change what has happened or undo the harm that has been done, but we can do everything in our power to set right what has been made wrong. We can endeavour to make sure the harm never happens again.
There are times when all of us have been thoughtless, selfish or cruel. But no act is unforgivable; no person is beyond redemption. Yet, it is not easy to admit one's wrongdoing and ask for forgiveness. "I am sorry" are perhaps the three hardest words to say.

We can come up with all manner of justifications to excuse what we have done. When we are willing to let down our defences and look honestly at our actions, we find there is a great freedom in asking for forgiveness and great strength in admitting the wrong. It is how we free ourselves from our past errors. It is how we are able to move forward into our future, unfettered by the mistakes we have made.

The parable of the ungrateful servant is both a parable of seeking forgiveness and of forgiving. It shows us how much can be forgiven when we know we’re wrong and we ask for forgiveness, and it also shows us how much hurt can come when we don’t give forgiveness when people ask it of us.


I don’t know what it was within the servant that meant he couldn’t find a way into forgiveness, but that inability led to the continuing suffering of both himself and the man asking for forgiveness. God requires us to be as generous in our forgiveness as he is with us, which we know is infinite. It’s a big ask, and it’s not easy at all, but it does contain the power to transform lives.