Stuck?

 

Nerine shared this: 

Metropolitan Anthony Bloom in his book “School for Prayer” tells a story about a lady who visited him shortly after he became a priest in the Orthodox Church. She wanted his advice about prayer. For fourteen years she had been saying the Jesus prayer almost continually, she said, and had never experienced God’s presence at all. “If you speak all the time”, said Anthony, “You don’t give God a chance to get a word in”.

“What shall I do?”, she asked. Anthony advised her to go into her sitting room after breakfast, “Make sure everything is tidy and sit in a chair, light the little lamp before the icon that you have, and first of all take stock of your room. Just sit, look around, and try to see where you are. Be aware of what’s around you. Admire the objects. Be totally present. Take out your knitting and knit for about 15 minutes before the face of God, but I forbid you to say one word of prayer. You just knit, or sit still, and enjoy the peace of your room.”

Well of course she didn’t think this was very spiritual advice at the time, but some weeks later the lady returned. She was a different person. “It works!”, she told him. “I got up, washed, tidied my room, had breakfast, came back, made sure there was nothing that would worry me and settled into my armchair and thought ’ Oh how nice, I have 15 minutes in which I can do nothing without feeling guilty’ And I looked around, and for the first time in years, I thought ‘Goodness! What a lovely room I live in’. Then, she said, “I felt so quiet because the room was so peaceful. There was a clock ticking, but it didn’t disturb the silence. Its ticking just underlined the fact that everything was so still, and after a while I remembered that I must knit before the face of God. I began to knit and became more and more aware of the silence. Then I perceived that this silence was not simply the absence of noise, but that the silence had substance. It was not an absence of something, but a presence of something. The silence had a density, a richness and it began to pervade me. The silence around began to come and meet the silence within me. All of a sudden, I perceived that the silence was a presence. At the heart of the silence there was Him, who is all stillness, all peace, all poise.

Help, are you reading this?

At the very beginning of lockdown it was suggested that I might start a blog. I took up the challenge and often managed to post everyday, particularly in the  times of lockdown. I am wondering whether this blog is still interesting or useful, I would love to have your feedback and contributions, so please get in touch.   

 

 

Springtime is a season of optimism and hope,
and the Christian lives a faith centred on hope.
Winter, with its cold and dark days has gone,
just as Good Friday has passed to Easter and beyond.
We live a resurrection life
reflected in the new life springing up around us.

 Thank you, Lord, for the hope that you bring,

the renewal that you bring,
both to this world and to our hearts and lives.

Forgive our moments of ingratitude,
the spiritual blindness that prevents us
from appreciating the wonder that is this world,
the endless cycle of nature,
of life and death and rebirth.
Forgive us for taking without giving,
reaping without sowing.
Open our eyes to see,
our lips to praise,
our hands to share,
and may our feet tread lightly
on the road that, together, we travel.

 

 

                                                          oh dear!    

 

 

 

Peace be With You

 

                                                   Photographs by Ann-Marie Parker

This is such an important phrase, let's mediate on this using the Examen. The Examen. Originally given to the Church by Ignatius of Loyola in 1548, this simple method of prayer is still used by many Christians around the world as a powerful way to connect with God. Through a few small steps, we can invite the Holy Spirit to search our inmost thoughts and speak the peace of Christ into our souls.

Our challenge this week is to pray this Prayer of Examen once per day, as a way of allowing God’s voice to speak into the last twenty-four hours of our lives. The basic steps are listed below, but feel free to experiment and adapt this practice to fit the rhythm of your everyday life. I pray that it opens our eyes to the reality that God is always at work in our lives, and that it brings us His “peace that passes all understanding.”

THE PRAYER OF EXAMEN

This prayer is simple enough to pray anywhere, but you may find it more rewarding to pray in a location where you can be alone and quiet. Silence may be a helpful tool to quiet your mind and focus your thoughts on God. Sit comfortably, with your body upright, and hands rested in your lap as a sign of your openness to hear the voice of the Holy Spirit. Try praying it once a day, whenever you can find the best time for uninterrupted, quiet reflection. Some people prefer the early morning hours, others prefer the quiet of bedtime, find what works for you.

When you are ready to begin, close your eyes, breathe deeply, and proceed quietly through each of these five steps.

Step 1: Presence

Take a moment to become aware of God’s presence with you. No matter how distracted or distressed you may seem, you are never separated from the presence of God. Use this time to “centre down,” or to calm the anxious thoughts of your day and simply relax in the presence of God. Breathe deeply. If you are having trouble quieting your thoughts, try repeating a simple phrase in your mind, like “Come, Lord Jesus” (Rev 22:20), or “Be still, and know that I am God” (Ps 46:10).

Avoid the temptation to rush through this step. It’s okay if you spend your entire time trying to become still. This is an important and peace-giving discipline in itself, so try not to move on to the second step until your heart is truly at rest.

Step 2: Gratitude

Our busyness often fools us into thinking we have “earned” all that we have. Gratitude helps us see the truth: that our lives are a gracious gift of God. Remember the blessings God has graciously given you. Picture them in your mind, and give God thanks for them. As you thank God for relationships, picture their faces and let them bring you joy. Thank God for His provision, your “daily bread,” and your health.

Gratitude is a powerful prayer, despite whatever our current emotional state may be. Before you continue on with the next step, allow these prayers of thanksgiving to help calm your fears and frustrations.

Step 3: Review

Now take a moment and look back over the past twenty-four hours of your life. Think of all that has happened in the previous day; conversations, thoughts, actions, reactions. Ask God to reveal your “anxious thoughts” (Ps. 139:23). As you remember your day, pay close attention to your emotions. Where did you experience joy, peace, or love? Where did you experience pain, anxiety, worry, stress, or anger? Notice anything that is particularly strong, or anything that you would like to keep hidden in the shadows.

As you pray, take note of these emotions but try not to interpret or justify them. Allow God to simply meet you in the midst of your life, and to walk through these memories with you as a friend. Allow His love to speak peace to your soul.

Step 4: Listen

Now, remembering some of these things you have noticed in your day, simply ask God, “What are you telling me?” Then take a moment and listen. Note what you hear in the silence; perhaps a thought, word, scripture, or image. It may help to write your thoughts in a journal. Be still and listen for the voice of the Holy Spirit.

Throughout the silence, know that you are completely loved and accepted through the love of Jesus.

Step 5: Ask

Turn your attention to the future, and ask God to help you walk forward in a different way. Ask for His grace to heal the broken places in your soul. Ask Him to provide a way forward, a simple step or change you can make to live a life of peace and rest. Take a moment to write down what you have gained from this time of prayer. What needs to change in your life to help make tomorrow different than today? Ask God for His grace, which is powerful enough to make such a change, and can transform your life into the image of Jesus.

 

That’s it! Try praying this simple prayer once each day, and see what God says and does. I hope that just as Jesus spoke to his frightened disciples, you hear these words spoken into your soul: “Peace be with you.”

 

 

Seedlings

 

In recent months, our relatively normal 2nd floor flat has been transformed into a greenhouse. Three varieties of potatoes sprouting in the living room, rose cuttings lining a wall of the kitchen, an old bucket filled with earth and dry bulbs and trays of tiny tomato seeds sat in a sunny spot by the window. 

Given the limited opportunities for entertainment of late it’s been rather captivating viewing. To start with nothing at all, just bare soil. Watering, waiting and watching. Until one by one little green tips started breaking through the dark earth. Most remarkable of them all, the transformation of the tomato seed. A tiny, dry fleck planted in some soil but completely lifeless, it was hard to imagine anything could come from something so seemingly dead. Until we saw it shoot, bright green, face tilted towards the sun, one day to become a towering plant with armfuls of fruit each filled with hundreds of seeds. 

Jesus uses the metaphor of a seed/a grain of wheat in the gospel of John to speak about his imminent death.

 “Let me make this clear, a single grain of wheat will never be more than a single grain of wheat unless it drops into the ground and dies. Because then it sprouts and produces a great harvest of wheat—all because one grain died.”

And theologian John Stott puts it this way, “as long as a seed remains in the dry, warm, security of the granary it will never reproduce itself. It has to be buried in the cold, dark grave of the soil and there it has to die. Then out of its wintry grave, the springtime grain will sprout.”

This is the Christian hope of Easter. That because Jesus didn’t cling to life, but died in darkness there is life for the world. And with that death, a chain of events that means our broken earth will one day be fully beautiful again, bursting with life but without the sting of death or decay. Without injustice or sickness. No longer watered by our tears. 

My tomato plants are a very imperfect picture of this remarkable exchange, but after a year of death feeling so close at hand, they remind me that it won’t have the final word.

Lizzie Harvey. Theos

 

Your Creation: the peregrines revisited

 

                                                             Photo by Jackie Angus 

O Lord, grant us the grace to grow deeper in our respect of
And care for your Creation.

O Lord, help us to recognise the sacredness of all of your
Creatures as signs of your wondrous love.

O Lord, help us turn from the selfish consumption of
Resources meant for all and to see the impacts of our
choices on your world.

Kevin Garratt took this amazing picture of the female peregrine wing stretching on the church on the 8^th of April.

There are signs that the falcon has made indentations in the gravel box for a nest, Barry and Lyn Trevis climbed up to the top of the tower to check on Monday but we will probably have to wait for next year for them to mate properly. How marvellous if those dark red eggs were to be laid one day on top of our tower!

 

The Tendency to Fix

 

We humans have the tendency to grip happiness and positivity the moment it peeps out of the ground.  For good reason; we all want to look forward to something.  An NHS Manager described the desperation to put the bad past behind us as “banking something before it has ended” and that really, that is not the right thing to do.  I love BBC1’s ‘The Repair Shop’ but humans are not fixable as easily as a musical box or leather bag.  Our permanent state is fragile with the capacity to be broken.  Pain and exhaustion cannot be ticked off like another task on the ‘to do’ list.  Adopt Leonard Cohen’s thought – we’re all full of cracks, that’s how the light gets in.

C. S. Lewis writes in The Four Loves: “Man approaches God most nearly when he is in one sense least like God.”  The embodiment of that couldn’t be much more evident than in the nailing of a human to a make–shift wooden cross at Golgotha – meaning ‘skull’.  Some years I’ve sensed the sigh of relief amongst some Christians on Easter Sunday when Resurrection is celebrated and the weight of torture is behind, almost to the point of “let’s forget all that nasty stuff”.  A bit like our attitude to the pandemic at times.  But that’s not reality and nor is it particularly helpful for those still on crosses. 

R.S. Thomas reminds us –

When we are weak, we are

strong. When our eyes close

on the world, then somewhere

within us the bush

burns. When we are poor

and aware of the inadequacy

of our table, it is to that

uninvited the guest comes.

 Easter is a short period of time when all of life’s long spectrum of experience is encapsulated – the darkest and most painful of experiences take place and can remain with us, while simultaneously hope and light filter through.  A theme expressed so beautifully by Annie Dillard, alluding to that dark Golgotha as being also home to hope, in Pilgrim At Tinker Creek: “Cruelty is a mystery…But if we describe a world to compass these things…then we bump against another mystery: the inrush of power and light, the canary that sings on the skull.”

Anna Wheeler. Theos 

 

Doubting Thomas

 

 

Ask anyone who’s ever shoved aside the rock of life

and uncovered the light of God…

They’ll tell you a story…

About the power of hope, the power of faith, the power of love.

A story about transformation…

a story about what it’s like to die of suburban boredom,

or body addiction or emotional dismay…

only to be born again, be new again, live life again.

A resurrected life,

an eternal, never-ending life.

All because of Christ.

Hear their stories

and think of your own.

The event that changed you.

The influence that formed you.

The sacraments that save you.

Because, somehow, someway,

you too have brushed up against Christ

and, somehow, learned the truth about God.

Somehow, some way,

 Christ has called your name.

 You’ve seen his face.

 You’ve heard his voice.

 You’ve touched his scars.

Fr. Jim Schmitmeyer.

Prince Philip RIP

 

God of our lives,
we give thanks for the life of Prince Philip,
for his love of our country,
and for his devotion to duty.
We entrust him now to your love and mercy,

And pray for our Queen and the Royal family that they may know your comfort
through our Redeemer Jesus Christ. Amen.

The Risk of Love

 

 

The past year or so we have all, perhaps, become increasingly aware of our humanity; reminded daily of our fragility, our mortality, and increasingly aware of those connections that make us human in their absence.

As this Easter approaches, I’ve found myself re–reading Herbert McCabe on the Easter triduum – particularly his sermon on Good Friday, in which he emphasises and re–examines Christ’s humanity. He remarks upon how we see in the Gospels that Jesus doesn’t want the cross – especially in Matthew, Mark, and Luke – “not my will but thine be done.” He is recognisably human in the Garden of Gethsemane. He panics. He is in obvious distress.

It’s often tempting to take this route, to see Christ as most human when He’s experiencing moments of pain or distress, united with us in our suffering. Perhaps there is more reason than ever, this year, to do this. But McCabe offers a powerful, differing view of Christ’s humanity: “As I see it, not Adam but Jesus was the first human being, the first member of the human race in whom humanity came to fulfilment, for whom to live was simply to love – for this is what human beings are for.”

Christ, for McCabe, represents the fulfilment of humanity in his capacity for love. He is “the human being we dare not be. He takes the risks of love which we recognise as risks and so for the most part do not take.” McCabe goes further on the risk of love in separate sermons in God Matters, at one point remarking that: “If you do not love, you will not be alive. If you do love, you will be killed.”

Love, of course, makes us vulnerable to loss, to heartbreak. There has been too much of that of late, and I suspect it won’t go unremarked upon in sermons across the land that we celebrate this time of victory over death at the same time that the worst of a deadly pandemic appears to be behind us. As we emerge renewed from another Easter season, my hope is that we emerge more like Christ – more willing to take the risk of love.

Pete Whitehead.  Theos 

 

Freed!

 

 

 

Jesus’ closest parable to the ship in the canal must be the similarly comical camel trying to get through the eye of a needle. Whether Jesus meant a narrow gate in Jerusalem or an actual sewing needle, it’s pretty hilarious in a Laurel and Hardy way. Impossibly burdened and unable to make progress. The ship was finally freed by small diggers and tugboats with a high tide, but the burden of sin is too much for us to shrug off alone. It is also noticeable that with the grounded ship, it was not long before over 400 more were waiting, queuing, and it suggests to me that sometimes we forget how much our failings affect others. Unkind words and actions have repercussions, and we can be so caught up with our own issues that we forget how our failures cause problems for other people.

 

I don’t know if you remember the name of the ship in the Suez canal? It was “Ever Given”. I don’t know what the owners meant, but what a gift for a preacher. Ever Given. Whatever we do, we cannot earn our salvation, it is given to us by Jesus. He was only one person being faithful to his calling, but he has made it possible for us all to know and follow the way of God, by laying down his life. As Paul says in Romans: “The free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord”(6.23).                          

It is just that, a free gift, held out for us to accept and use in our daily living. And it does not wear out, nothing can take it away or destroy it, the gift is for Ever. That free gift of eternal life was earned on the cross and revealed in the resurrection, and today we rejoice in the Easter hope. So let us bring all we have and all we are to God, turning from our sins and accepting the new life that frees us from fear, and (Covid vaccine reference coming up - don’t believe the conspiracy theorists, get yours!) receive the ultimate injection of hope which is the wonder of eternal life in Jesus Christ our Lord.

Stuck !

 

The container ship remained stuck for days, and much effort was put into refloating it. It was a huge ship, far larger than the canal had been designed for, and one headline showed the ship’s hull and a tiny excavator, advising that “You need a bigger digger!”. The reason was the thousands of containers piled on its deck, and their sheer weight. Four hundred million tons? It was all a bit David and Goliath. I wonder if our spiritual lives become weighed down, preventing us from serving God as intended? The weight of our failures and sins can drag us down so that we feel unworthy or incapable. 

What’s in our containers, piled up as we grow older, maybe we don’t really notice their presence or our navigation errors in life and carry on sailing until we have a crash because their combined presence makes it hard for us to change direction or even stop? We can all get stuck sometimes. No wonder that Jesus said “Unless you become like little children you cannot enter the Kingdom of God”. So we are challenged this Easter, in the season of resurrection, to turn and repent, to follow the way of Jesus in newness. Jesus died on the cross because of the sin of all humanity, and we can come to him for forgiveness. 

Let Jesus raise you up, or – to continue with the nautical idea - let him refloat your boat!

Fear and Hope

 

On Easter Day, Doug preached a sermon linking the Easter Story to current issues. I am offering a revised, enhanced version in three parts. We hope you didn’t miss the Dutch Ship’s lantern on our bookcase or the “Salty Dog” LP next to it.

Fear and Hope.

“Jesus has been raised!” The good news is declared, Alleluia. But in Mark’s Gospel we hear that the all-too-human response was initially fear. You don’t need to be superstitious to feel very apprehensive that a tomb has been broken into – or (perhaps even more disturbing) escaped from. They were only aware that something almost unimaginable had happened. What a shock; no wonder they fled. Initially, at least.

Fear is a common experience, and it has a good side in that it makes us wary of dangerous situations. Fear of crossing roads, of walking up a mountain, of encountering drunks on a dark night, of catching or spreading a virus, is not misplaced – it’s very reasonable. Fear is a natural reaction to a potential threat and the women at the tomb could not be sure what was happening. Women today still find that all too often they need to be wary of unexpected encounters. Their fear prevented them from hearing the good news, from realising that rather than a deed of darkness it was a glimmer of hope.

The resurrection is a belief which we may all wrestle with; for it challenges us about our understanding of life and death, about who Jesus was and is, and it affects the way we live in the light of this momentous event. Like the first disciples at the tomb, don’t we find it a great deal to take on board?

“Taking things on board” reminds me of the unexpected blockage of the Suez canal a week ago. A huge container ship ran aground, blocking the canal. Soon there were hundreds of other ships waiting to pass through, and there was talk that with no access our side of the planet could face all sorts of shortages. It is fascinating that one small incident, a ship caught on a sandbank, could disrupt the world’s economy. A similar issue to the way that a few people catching a virus in a Chinese city has caused such pain, suffering and death. Both being similar, then, to the idea that one person dying on a cross could have meaning for all people. In the first letter to the Corinthians Paul writes that “As in Adam all die, so in Christ shall all be made alive”(15.22). Certain events have an effect far beyond their immediate circumstances, for good or ill.

Easter

 

 

 Readings: Acts 10:34–43, Colossians 3:1–4 The Resurrection of Jesus: John 20:1–18

 There is a priceless, intimate moment rarely mentioned or portrayed but it’s captured beautifully in this painting by Eduard Manet. The sun has not yet risen. The silence of the tomb is broken only by the breath of angels, the whisper of linen cloths being gently unwound, the scent of spices wafting into the air. One angel weeps at the sight of his wounds, while the other cradles his body; but if you look carefully, you can see the angel’s hair and robes billowing as the Spirit flows into the space, filling the lungs of our Lord once more. In this moment, Jesus will inhale, sit forward, stretch his limbs and stand. The angels will carefully fold his shroud, laying the linen neatly to one side, and will watch in awe as he steps through the open doorway into the early morning mist, to greet a weeping Mary. This is His glory; He is our hope.

The voice of Christ

Each one of us meets with Christ, hears Him and communicates with Him differently. Our own journey of faith is unique, precious, and filled with highs and lows, challenges and gifts, yet our mission is the same. The voice of Christ tells us: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbour as yourself ’ The voice of Christ has become our voice, tasked with sharing the hope that we have in our risen Lord – the hope of forgiveness, of love, and of the peace that passes all understanding. Alleluia! Matthew 22:37–39.

 

 

May the God who shakes heaven and earth, whom death could not contain, who lives to transform and heal us, Bless us so that we can share his love. May the risen Lord Jesus watch over us and renew us as he renews the whole of creation. May our hearts and lives echo his love. Amen.

 Sarah Prendergast and Sally Morley