Wednesday, 2 December 2009

Changing your hat.



biretta


Well, I think the job interview went well this morning. I think I came over as enthuiastic, with relevant experience. I think I managed to sidestep the pitfall of seeming to appear a know it all by responding to the training question by pointing out that I had previously organised and participated in training for those visiting old folks because I knew my skills needed refreshing. And I hope i gave a clear impression that my focus was on respecting and valuing the person and giving them dignity and ownership of their care paln even when they were disempowered by physical frailty. So I feel rather hopeful that in a day or two a letter will appear saying "come and join us". Only hope the other candidates get cold feet or blank out mentally!!

Tuesday, 1 December 2009

A busy day.


I started early by celebrating the Holy mysteries at our neighbourhood Anglo-Catholic shrine at 0800, then it was some house duties before popping out to view an art gallery and gaze at some beautiful altar pieces from the late medieval period. A haircut in preparation for the job interview tomorrow and trying to phone the agency that does my health assessment for the work and pensions dept (see call centres!!). Tonight I am down to service my Tuesday night meeting by chairing it which is a 1st for me, so it's been a busy but enjoyable day. I feel much more mentally alert and my old self, so I must have climbed some distance up the walls of the pit of despair I was in earlier in the year. Which feels good.

Remembering those who suffer isn't something exclusively for World AIDS Day: rather ,it's what we do as Christians whenever we celebrate or participate in the Eucharist. We remember the suffering Christ and those whose suffering he shares today. But we also see the Resurrection in that sacramental mystery and feel its power at work within us. I pray for those who suffer from HIV today with the hope that they will experience deeply Christ's healing love wherever and whoever and whatever they may be.

Monday, 30 November 2009

The Anglican Covenant critiqued.

Check this article out:


http://anglicanfuture.blogspot.com/2009/11/brazil-on-anglican-covenant.html

Who says only nuts come from Brazil? This is an excellent analysis of the Covenant and its deficiencies. The 1st 3 sections are so unexceptionable that they are pointless and section 4 is a new and not very Anglican kind of Church. Well done the Brazzies! You are not just footballing geniuses!

St Andrew's Day

St Andrew the Apostle


The Apostle Andrew (left) in Calling of Apostles Peter and Andrew by Caravaggio

Our patron Saint here in the land of the Happy Haggis. May his prayers be with us and for us today. And here's a wee sermon from another John who preached:

A sermon of St John Chrysostom on St John's gospel

After Andrew had stayed with Jesus and had learned much from him, he did not keep this treasure to himself, but hastened to share it with his brother. Notice what Andrew said to him: We have found the Messiah, that is to say, the Christ. Notice how his words reveal what he has learned in so short a time. They show the power of the master who has convinced them of this truth. They reveal the zeal and concern of men preoccupied with this question from the very beginning. Andrew’s words reveal a soul waiting with the utmost longing for the coming of the Messiah, looking forward to his appearing from heaven, rejoicing when he does appear, and hastening to announce so great an event to others. To support one another in the things of the spirit is the true sign of good will between brothers, of loving kinship and sincere affection.

Notice, too, how, even from the beginning, Peter is docile and receptive in spirit. He hastens to Jesus without delay. He brought him to Jesus, says the evangelist. But Peter must not be condemned for his readiness to accept Andrew’s word without much weighing of it. It is probable that his brother had given him, and many others, a careful account of the event; the evangelists, in the interest of brevity, regularly summarise a lengthy narrative. Saint John does not say that Peter believed immediately, but that he brought him to Jesus. Andrew was to hand him over to Jesus, to learn everything for himself. There was also another disciple present, and he hastened with them for the same purpose.

When John the Baptist said: This is the Lamb, and he baptizes in the Spirit, he left the deeper understanding of these things to be received from Christ. All the more so would Andrew act in the same way, since he did not think himself able to give a complete explanation. He brought his brother to the very source of light, and Peter was so joyful and eager that he would not delay even for a moment.

Sunday, 29 November 2009

Newman on the Coming of Christ

We too are looking out for Christ's coming,—we are bid look out,—we are bid pray for it; and yet it is to be a time of judgment. It is to be the deliverance of all Saints from sin and sorrow for ever; yet they, every one of them, must undergo an awful trial. How then can any look forward to it with joy, not knowing (for no one knows) the certainty of his own salvation? And the difficulty is increased when we come to pray for it,—to pray for its coming soon: how can we pray that Christ would come, that the day of judgment would hasten, that His kingdom would come, that His kingdom may be at once,—may come on us this day or tomorrow,—when by so coming He would be shortening the time of our present life, and cut off those precious years given us for conversion, amendment, repentance and sanctification? Is there not an inconsistency in professing to wish our Judge already come, when we do not feel ourselves ready for Him? In what sense can we really and heartily pray that He would cut short the time, when our conscience tells us that, even were our life longest, we should have much to do in a few years?

These opposite duties of fearing yet praying to have the sight of Christ are not necessarily inconsistent with each other. Why we should fear it, is not strange. Surely when a man gets himself steadily to contemplate a state of things beyond this life, he is in the way to be overpowered by the thoughts which throng upon him. How dreadful to the imagination is every scene of that unknown hereafter!

When we pray for the coming of Christ, we do but pray in the Church's words, that He would "accomplish the number of his elect and would hasten His kingdom." That is, we do not pray that He would simply cut short the world, but... that He would make time go quicker, and the wheels of His chariot speed on. Before He comes, a certain space must be gone over; all the Saints must be gathered in; and each Saint must be matured. Not a grain must fall to the ground; not an ear of corn must lose its due rain and sunshine. All we pray is, that He would please to crowd all this into a short space of time; that He would "finish the work and cut it short in righteousness," and "make a short work upon the earth;" that He would accomplish,—not curtail, but fulfil,—the circle of His Saints, and hasten the age to come without disordering this.

I have spoken of coming to God in prayer generally; but if this is awful, much more is coming to Him in the Sacrament of Holy Communion; for this is in very form an anticipation of His coming, a near presence of Him in earnest of it. And a number of men feel it to be so; for, for one reason or another, they never come before Him in that most Holy Ordinance, and so deprive themselves of the highest of blessings here below. Thus their feeling is much the same as theirs would be, who from fear of His coming, did not dare look out for it. They indeed who are in the religious practice of communicating, understand well enough how it is possible to feel afraid and yet to come. Surely it is possible, and the case is the same as regards the future day of Christ. You must tremble, and yet pray for it. We have all of us experienced enough even of this life, to know that the same seasons are often most joyful and also most painful. The joy does not change the grief, nor the grief the joy, into some third feeling; they are incommunicable with each other, both remain, both affect us.

Or consider the mingled feelings with which a son obtains forgiveness of a father,—the soothing thought that all displeasure is at an end, the veneration, the love, and all the undescribable emotions, most pleasurable, which cannot be put into words,—yet his bitterness against himself. Such is the temper in which we desire to come to the Lord's table; such in which we must pray for His coming; such in which His elect will stand before Him when He comes.

A slab of Cardinal Newman! Preached in his Anglican days. Advent is both a joy and a mystery. Waiting yet also trembling. Properly observed, there is a solemnity to this season, which while it lacks the austerity and even rigour of Lent, also calls us to a reflectiveness which is quite different in feel from the Lenten season. The reflectiveness springs in part from the thought of the last things and in part from the closing of the calendar year. We muse and consider both endings and beginings, hopes for the future and sorrow for that which is past. And we reflect (hopefully) with a sense of thankfullness and anticipation. Newman knew well that sense of mixed feelings: his parting from the old security of life as an Anglican Oxford Don into the new adventure of life as a Roman Catholic Oratorian. The pain of leaving friends like Keble and Pusey as he followed God's call and his destiny. He is a good and honest companion on the journey and his words still ring true.

A guid new year in the Church?

Well, here's an interesting start to the new Church year:

http://walkingwithintegrity.blogspot.com/2009/11/ma-clergy-may-marry-same-sex-couples.html

The Diocese of Massachusetts (I think that's how it's spelled) have given permission for their clergy to go ahead with conducting same sex marriages. Yowls of fury will without a doubt be heard from the Global South of the Anglican Communion " They are ignoring the Covenant". Yes, indeed they are, and you've only yourselves to blame. Bishops ordained to minister to conservative congregations, crossing Provincial boundaries and that damnable Ugandan Bill. The sense I have is that ECUSA (the TEC) are finally sickened by it all and, now that the courts have begun to throw out conservative claims for the property and assets, they are going to proceed to do what they believe to be right and not what ++Rowan and the Africans want. Good.

I have to say that the Ugandan situation has absolutely changed my mind on what we do with regard to the Covenant. If the COU and their pals are really going to support legislation the like of which has never been seen since the Nazi era, then I regard them as abhorrent as the Dutch Reformed Church in South Africa during Apartheid and we should deal with them in the same way we did with the Afrikaaner Churches who provided theological justification for their evil regime of choice. They are in a state of impaired communion with God and we as the Church must show them that. We do not have communion with them. They have sundered themselves from the fellowship of Christ by their wicked and wilful actions and until such time as they abjure them (and I don't think that saying the death penalty is bad, so just put gays in jail for years counts as abjuration), we ignore and shun them - financially, as well as spiritually. You cannot dialogue with evil and those who support this bill are evil or utterly deluded.

"Oh, but we must maintain dialogue" I hear you say. No, one of my heroes, +Hensley Henson, Bishop of Durham, had no truck with that or the Church that sided with Hitler in Germany in the 30's. He had no hatred for the German people (his beloved step mother was German) but he had nothing but contempt for Nazism and its apologists both at home and abroad. Like Jonathan Swift, he had a "savage indignation" in his heart when faced with injustice and he denounced it uncompromisingly. So should we. The Archbishop of Canterbury was less than impressive against Hitler (Lang, a Glaswegian), so Rowan Williams is in reasonably salubrious company. Then, as now, the case was made that to be openly critical would inflame the situation and quiet , behind the scenes diplomacy would bear fruit. Henson thought that was rot and only shaming the bigotry and inhumanity with the glare of unfriendly publicity would stop it - or at any rate spare the Church from the taint of collaboration. It was a matter of conscience and principle, not of politics, secular or ecclesiastical.

Happy Advent!

Friday, 27 November 2009

Bandits at 4 o clock, Biggles.

It started out as a pretty good sort of day really. My little bit of library organising in the Diocesan office, then an enjoyable lunch with a pal (Cullen skink, followed by croque madam - b***er the colesterol!) and thence to the therapist. And then the trouble started.

Nobody's fault, but we suddenly hit some buried c**p. Which had been buried for years precisely because it made me feel scared and awful and c**p. I got out of the session and stood on the top of the steps at the front door, breathing the cold, sharp 4 o' clock air of Leith and swearing quietly. Time for a walk, as my head was in a heck of a mess, with emotions roaring away. It won't be a total surprise to hear that I also lit up, needing something chemical to steady the nerves. Fair enough. Then in came the bandits. Specifically, my brain started a very disturbing debate about needing a drink. Not needing it physically, but needing it because I know that it would change my mood and alter my feelings and get me the hell out of the bad place in my emotions. Needing it in a very cold, sober, analysed sort of way. And that was scary - 1st time in 8 months I've felt that desire to blot it out. Rather like a waking conscious nightmare.

Leith Walk is a long road and has plenty of pubs on it. Very inviting looking places. I kept walking. Not a stroll, but a yomp. Left, right, left, right My boots are heavy, my belt is tight...thank God I was once one of Baden-Powell's infant paramilitaries and learnt to keep going on a hike. Even when you're tired and it bloody hurts. By the time I got to the West End of Princes Street, my mad alky head was retreating, sane Dougal returned. You know you're stressing when you're chain smoking Hamlet cigars. (I did 2 en route).

A modicum of calm set in back at base. I was able to say to people "I've just had a s**t bit". Getting dinner ready was a good distraction, as was conversation over the dinner table. Normal stuff. And at Compline the lesson hit me like a bloody brick:

For it is the God who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness’, who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

But we have this treasure in clay jars, so that it may be made clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies. (2 Cor 4:6-10)

The lesson? Clay, c'est moi. Afflicted - oh God, yeah BUT NOT crushed. Perplexed - indeed we are, but not (quite) driven to despair. Struck down - it certainly felt that way - but again, NOT destroyed. Still here, still alive, still sober. Rattled, shaken but actually victorious. On the receiving end of just enough grace to make it. They told me this urge would hit at some point and by God they were right. But it went and got beaten. God only knows how. Time methinks to kip and rest and be thankful. Roger. Over and out.