What about the building?

In response to my earlier post "In defence of the Parish System" many, both on the blog and via other media, pointed out to me that what I was really celebrating was the opportunity to offer pastoral care -and the role of the church building in enabling and focussing that. 

Of course you are right...but oh, church buildings are represent so much complexity.

This year sees the 150th birthday of one of my churches, and the 175th of the other...

And of course there is much to celebrate as we look as those beloved buildings, and imagine all those faithful worshippers who filled the pews before us.

Of course, there's always the possibility that they were as beset with doubts and questions - and felt as dwarfed by the building of valley church (designed to seat 500, til they thankfull removed the gallery, bringing it down to a mere 300) - as their contemporary counterparts.

But somehow as we remember our predecessors in faith, they seem to acquire a patina of holiness that may actually have only tenuous roots in reality. 

We won't know the truth...and we don't actually need to.

All we know is that they kept those buildings weather proof, were, it seems, generous with both time and money (think of the number of commemorative gifts in any average English parish church!) - and handed on the buildings to the next generation, and the next....til they reached us.

Yes, there IS something to celebrate.

But there is, also, something to lament.

Neither congregation that I serve is huge or wealthy - and that, of course, means that taking our part in handing on the building in good repair can feel rather overwhelming.

Then there's the added bonus or burden of the particular artistic and architectural merit of Church on the Hill - which attracts visitors from far and wide and means that we really do have to take our responsibilities particularly seriously.

It's a lovely building, with amazing glass - but that in itself demands so much of our time and attention that it can be hard to hang on to the knowledge that the building exists to enable encounters with God.

The extraordinary fund-raising efforts, the welcome extended to endless parties of visitors, the beauty of the flower arrangements - all are pointless if we lose sight of that basic truth.

The church building exists for worship.

Full stop.

If caring for our buildings hinders our primary calling as Church - to love and serve God with all that is in us, and in loving and serving God to love and serve our neighbour - then we are in serious trouble.

If we can find money to maintain our building but not to give to those in need...

Well, you know all that.

So do I....but it's a constant challenge.

I want to celebrate these two church buildings as a symbol of God's presence in our community...

but I want to be able, too, to recognise God's presence in the lives of those who meet there week by week.

If I can't, if others can't - then, for all their beauty and all their heritage, those buildings are just a waste of space.

Let's pray that this year we can rightly celebrate the Church and the church both up hill and down dale.

Defending the parish system - part 1 in an occasional (maybe even sporadic) series

Yesterday evening I had a phonecall.

Nothing remotely unusual about that...even when I've not just sat down with a large drink...but this wasn't an absolutely standard request.

B. was phoning on behalf of his grandma, who had recently moved into the sheltered flats opposite valley church.

Today was the first anniversary of her husband's death, and she wanted to spend some time with her grandson in a quiet place, praying and remembering.

Would the church be open when he was free to take her, after work?

Of course, I said it would be no trouble at all to delay locking-up time, explained where the votive candles were, and we parted amicably.

Except that, by one of those weird quirks of fate, though I warned everyone who might normally be expected to lock up in a fit of enthusiasm, I'd forgotten that there was a plan afoot to begin to take down the Christmas stars this evening..so the message didn't go nearly far enough.

Thus, just as I got in from the evening dog-walk, the phone rang: B & his grandma were down at church, but the door was locked.

When I met them, they were both ridiculously, unnecessarily, grateful...telling me that I was much too kind, that they appreciated it so much, that they just needed somewhere special to remember.

And no matter how much I tried to assure them that they were simply using the church for its prime purpose - as a place for people to get close to God - they seemed to feel that there was something remarkable about my willingness to open the door on a stormy January evening.

But the point is, the building was THERE...and they knew who to contact to ensure access.

A long time ago, I wrote of another church, that the community who live and work around it recognised, in their ancient building with its open doors, a reminder of the God who always welcomes us, and another place that they could call home.

And I don't know how to begin to assess the value of that.

A church near you, part 2

Thanks to clever cross posting wotsits, the original "church near you" post spent today up on FB where responses were too interesting to leave alone there.
Here are some

Caroline 2 suggested a place to be encouraged

a place to dream
a place to share
a place to question
a place for doubt

Kristin

a place to get away
a place to come home

and Karen a place to cry

a place to be comforted
a place to learn from all ages
a place to be

I'm now getting really excited about this - and about how to make it real in the life of the churches I serve. Because, of course, I can't claim that all of that is really true of the life of either of my congregations.My hope is that by the time we reach Easter next year (via another PCC Quiet day at the beginning of Lent) ,both may have arrived at some sort of vision statement that can become part of our conscious DNA, an indicator of priorities. Caroline 2 wanted to substitute "Community" for "place" - and of course she's right that this is how it should be (though the original context of giving out a bit of smiley advertising at a community event meant that focus on the building was simpler to explain...specially as we were partying in the park just the other side of the churchyard wall). Goodness - if we actually offered churches like that, they'd probably be full overnight.

Gulp.

But as soon as you start defining what you are for, the possibility of being judged and found wanting looms large. As I commented in the other place, I have nightmare visions of a spiritual Ofsted inspector marking hill & valley in terms of their compliance with a tick list ...In the wake of the "Family snapshot" questionaire I offered in the valley earlier this summer, I'm well aware that the old adage about meat for some being poison for others remains very true. I wonder if it's equally true that what encourages one might disturb or depress another...And it matters so much that the church should try to be all things to all men at some level - because it's disturbingly common for tentative explorers to turn their back after one single negative experience...and, sadly, to confuse God with the church that exists to do God's work.

I recognise too that however much I may understand and believe that it's NOT my task to ensure that these churches "pass" - I'll see any "failures" as my failures.Of course, if my churches live up to these visions, then I can cry, I can be encouraged, I can doubt, and I can grow - so maybe the messiah complex might eventually be rather less of a problem! It's something to pray for, anyway...

A church near you

A place for prayer
A place to celebrate
A place to remember
A place for peace
A place for family
A place for friends
A place for hope
A place for today
A place for tomorrow
A place to grow
A place to meet God.

This was the text of the bookmarks splendid Methodist colleague produced for our joint presence at yesterday's Medieval Fayre.The other side had contact details for each church. As it turned out, things were too manic for many non child-centred conversations, so I didn't actually get to give too many out, though I hope that at least a few went home to be considered later - I really like his summary of our purpose, though I might have added

"a place to be fed"

since hospitality, both at the Eucharist and in all and any other ways, feels very central to our mission here in the valley.

What else would you have included?

THE PRAYING CHURCH - sermon for Lent 2

During this Lent in our preaching & our study groups we are considering some firm foundations for a healthy church...so over the next four weeks we will be looking at prayer, at discipleship (learning), at care & at mission – sharing the good news of Christ. Of course each of these should already be part of our common life, but now may be the time when God is prompting us to do a health check – to take stock & to consider how we might become more fruitful for Him. We'll only begin to engage with each topic in our formal sessions, but my hope & prayer is that we may become more aware, both collectively & as individuals, of what should be in place in the life of our churches,- part of our common DNA.

So today we begin with a sermon on prayer!

Oh dear – that's going to add to the weight of Lenten guilt for sure – or maybe I'm the only person in the building whose prayer life can, to put it politely, sometimes tend towards the erratic.

As far as that goes – I think it's important to remember that prayer is more than just a matter of feelings...that though it may seem at times dry, unrewarding, even whistling in the dark, that does not mean that nothing is happening.

Prayer is to do with consciously opening ourselves up to the God in whom we live & move & have our being

Prayer represents a decision to let God be God in our lives

++Rowan has compared prayer to sunbathing

“All you have to do is place yourself where the light can get to you. On the beach its no use screwing up your eyes & concentrating. You won't get a better tan that way...and the same is true of prayer.”

So trying to pray IS praying – even if that's not always how it feels. That's worth remembering as we work our way through Lent...

But this morning we're not going to focus on our individual prayer lives, but on the part prayer has in a healthy church.When school groups visited my old parish church, one of the first questions I would ask them was

“what do you think the church is for?” (I dont need to ask St Matthews school children, of course...I'm certain they already know the answer).

Even with non church schools, it never took long before someone would say

“It's a place to pray to God”

Bingo.

Whatever else takes place in this building, & the countless others like it across the world, that is their primary purpose. Let me remind you, too, that the church is so much more than the building...but if I asked the same question, using the church to mean the people of God, the answer would be pretty much the same.

Prayer is at the heart of what the church is for

Though we know that prayer is not to be confined to one place & one day of the week there's something important about the prayer that we practice together that should make it the foundation of every aspect of our common life.

It's our fundamental calling – here's Paul to the Colossian Christians

Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful.

Or again as he writes to those in Thessolonica

“Pray without ceasing”

or to the Ephesians

With all prayer and petition pray at all times in the Spirit, and with this in view, be on the alert with all perseverance and petition for all the saints”

There's no getting away from it – corporate prayer is an essential element of being church...because this is how we express & renew our identity as children of God and open ourselves more fully to enable God to work in us and through us
because of course prayer has nothing to do with persuading God to do things our way, and everything to do with tuning our wills to his.

Here's the theologian Herbert McCabe

For us to pray is for us to be taken over, possessed by the Holy Spirit which is the life of love between Father and Son. When our prayer is the prayer of the people of God as such, when it is the prayer of the Church as a whole, it is a sacramental expression of this life of the Spirit—that is what we mean by the sacraments and this is what we primarily mean by our prayer

That's pretty mind-blowing stuff, isn't it?

When we pray together, God prays through us. All that love, that healing, transforming power, there to be released. That is light years away from what the hymn writer described as “our prayer so languid & our faith so dim”

When we pray together, the strong can support or carry the weak. When we pray together, we are encouraged to raise our eyes beyond our own narrow horizons & pay attention to the needs and concerns of people will do not know, in places we will never visit.

What's more, public prayer teaches each of us a lot about what private prayers should be about.

• When we meet here in church, we pray when we don't really want to pray or don't feel like praying;

When we pray together, the framework of those praying around us holds us steady at those times when we struggle to concentrate, to really engage. Because the liturgy demands it, we find we can pray even when we haven't prepared properly for it; we learn to pray the Word by drawing on Scriptures, as we hear them woven into the liturgy and respond in prayer to the readings...

United in Christ we can even pray for (and with!) those with whom we are in conflict & we are reminded to pray about people and things we would otherwise overlook.

A body of Christians praying together represents so much more than the sum of our parts.

There is great spiritual power in our unity of purpose, as we go to the core of our relationship with God, which feeds, nurtures, and energizes us and unites us with the whole communion of saints, that multitude of God's people stretching across space & time and on into eternity. Prayer is the most common or 'ordinary' of the ways that the holy and the human come together...the place where our limited reality touches the infinite glory of God & is transformed. We open our hands and reach out to heaven – lift our voices and receive grace upon grace .

As I prepared to preach today, I read a sermon on the final chapter of the Bible, the closing verses of the book of Revelation...the writer has a clear vision of prayer as the ultimate purpose and identity of the church

The strategy of hope given to us in the book of Revelation comes together in this activity .......That’s what the vision calls us to at the end; we are invited to open ourselves to receive this kingdom: “the Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let everyone who hears say, Come. And let everyone who is thirsty come. Let anyone who wishes take the water of life as a gift… Come, Lord Jesus.”

This is what church is. It’s how we join our voices, and our opened and outstretched hands, and cry out, with the power of the Holy Spirit, “Come, Lord Jesus.” All the stuff we do that makes us church is this communal prayer that opens us and invites God to do something new, unimaginable in our midst.

Our task is to offer our church as a prayer, opened up to the movement of God, and speak these words in every part of our lives.

Come, Lord Jesus

And this invitation to God is also an invitation to others:

“And let everyone who hears say Come

That is the great prayer of the Church Universal...the prayer that echoes across the ages

And when all these voices and lives get mixed together, maybe we will discern all that we have already actively received, the prayers answered, the signs of the coming Kingdom.

Let there be light

For the past couple of weeks, both of my churches have boasted scaffolding towers and a steady stream of workmen coming and going. Church on the Hill, of course, is continuing its roof repairs, while down in the valley we have been having our lighting system renewed. The plans for this were devised way before my arrival, and I have to admit that I was deeply unexcited by what I imagined would be a substantial outgoing for a minimal result.

Allow me to indulge in a little light word-eating then (with only a small apology for the unintended pun there).
When I went down to church for Evening Prayer this afternoon, my colleague turned on the lights and the impact was stunning. The whole building has sprung to life in a way that I had never imagined. Far from showing up dusty corners, the new lights somehow make the whole of the sanctuary look fresh and lovely.
And, to my enormous pleasure and satisfaction, we now have an aumbrey light that is actually visible...so when people enter the Lady Chapel it is instantly and unmistakeably clear that we have the Sacrament reserved.
It probably doesn't sound like a major event, but I hope that it represents something significant, a greater degree of confidence in being who we are as church here, and it makes me smile and smile.

Celebration

Church in the Valley, as you might have guessed, is dedicated to St Matthew.
In my book, this means that on St Matthew's day you offer the best worship you can, with as many trimmings as possible - and then throw a bit of a party afterwards.
Strangely, patronal celebrations have been on the back burner in recent years, so it felt quite brave to reinstate them today. Initial enthusiasm from PCC members waned slightly when they realised that the patronal was the week before Harvest Festival, which is the week before the St Francistide Pet service...for one appalled moment I think they realised just what having a vicar with "bright ideas" might mean! However, they are resolutely good sports (L and M, I really can't thank you enough), and though a few people baulked at the later start time (designed to allow us to serve wine at an hour that didn't feel too much like breakfast), and one or two stayed away because they can't cope with incense, there was a reasonable congregation from both valley and hill.
So we celebrated.
Oh, we DID celebrate.
Proper procession with smoke (and a chance to air not just my farewell cope from St M's, but the two in-house copes as well), good solid liturgy with all the propers in the right places, a great sermon from my colleague, some truly splendid hymns (yes, of course we ended with "For all the Saints") and as a special surprise the organist produced one of my very favourite voluntaries, Karg Elert's Nun Danket.

However much I may deplore the style of ministry that allowed the vicar to talk about "my flock...", I have to admit that as we processed out I did feel rather proud of them all, and more than a little propriatory. Not quite "my people" but certainly the people whom God has given me to serve for the moment...We are getting to know each other as the months pass and friendships are growing as we do so.

Standing at the west door afterwards, it seemed that far too many people were leaving without going in to coffee...but when I finally made it into the hall, it seemed I was mistaken. Lots of smiley people drinking wine, eating cake and joining in
"Happy Feast Day to you" with every appearance of enthusiasm.

St Matthew's was founded in 1837.
I wonder how the founding fathers viewed the future.
I hope they rejoiced with us as we gave thanks for our patron and the life of our church through the years down to today.
I'm so glad to be here

Synod update

I've just had a very helpful conversation with Someone Who Knows about most things in the C of E and am now clearer on the provisions to be made for traditionalists. As ever, Thinking Anglicans has the best roundup of all reports and comments...but here's the short version.
There will be nothing enshrined in law, no more alarming Acts of Synod that proclaim women's ministry tainted and dangerous to the purity of Anglican orders...rather there will be a code of practice so that priests and parishes who are unable to accept the episcopal ministry of a woman will be protected. My guess is that many of these will leave - but despite this, that the Church of England will be richer and healthier as the gifts of those women called by God to episcopal ministry are released for the service of His Church.
So, not a perfect outcome but the best that we could achieve in the current situation. Thanks be to God!
Now there's "just" the small matter of the Lambeth Conference to negotiate...so please dont, whatever you do, stop praying!

Please pray

as I write, the General Synod of the Church of England is debating whether and how the Church might ordain women bishops.
When the legislation went through that allows for the ordination of women as priests, there were safeguards built in for those unable to accept our priestly ministry. There is a possibility that similar measures might be part of the package this time, - which means that several thousand of us have written to our synod reps to say that we would actually prefer to wait longer and have the measure fully accepted than to live with a two tier church, in which some would undoubtedly treat women bishops as "second order". There is good coverage of the issues here. As today has gone on, I've been stopped by several people out and about in the community here, who've expressed huge support for the ministry of women together with a view that might be summed up as
"The church needs to get its act together".
I didn't expect to feel this anxious...Whatever happens, people will be hurt I think, - but please pray for minimal damage to this church that I love, despite all the institutional failings and frustrations.

eta
Synod has voted in favour of women bishops (confirming an earlier decision that there was no theological objection to this) but with provision in place to protect traditionalists....At the moment, nobody seems able to say exactly what this provision may look like, so I'm not sure whether I'm rejoicing or lamenting, though I'm thankful to read that ++Rowan said, during the debate
"I am deeply unhappy with any scheme or any solution to this which ends up, as it were, structurally humiliating women who might be nominated to the episcopate." Goodness knows, at this stage, whether his voice will have had any influence, - but it's encouraging that he's not so punch-drunk as Lambeth looms that he can't see wood for trees in this particular jungle.

My mistake?

>Hot on the heels of yesterday's reflections, the Gospel at this morning's Eucharist was, I thought, quite staggeringly appropriate....because I read it as Mark 2 1-27 . New wine and old wineskins, the Sabbath made for man and not vice versa. It all made huge sense! So, I found myself talking to the(mostly rather older) congregation about what this might mean for us, how we might have to face the realisation that the style of church which had nourished and supported us all our life long might not be part of God's future in this community, or anywhere; how the concept of Sabbath had changed since our childhoods (when,let's face it, there was nothing but church available by way of Sunday entertainment) , and how it would not encourage anyone to engage with God if all they heard from their Christian neighbours was a succession of loud "tuts" about the demise of the great British Sunday, and alot of muttering that the world would be a much better place if the youth of the valley were being bored in church, rather than entertained on the football field... I talked about sitting light to things that had been both helpful and precious, but hanging on to the rock of truth that we are loved by God and exist to respond to that love. Some of them "got it" immediately and enthusiastically...some were sad but thoughtful...some, unsurprisingly, are convinced that their brand new vicar has taken leave of her senses. Church at the gym? Church not on Sundays? That can't be right!

Actually, - as those using the RCL Eucharistic lectionary will already have worked out, the thing that really wasn't right was the reading! Not Mark 2 at all, but Mark 12. But wow, - what a gift to explore that passage while so many related thoughts were buzzing round in my head! Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't so much my stupidity as God's brilliance that caused me to mis-read in such an interesting way. Back at St M's, we had a Daily Missal so it could never have happened...at Church in the Valley, it's over to the small print of that little paperback lectionary or even the vicar's diary. Easy to misread, - but sometimes errors make for really interesting results.

"Going public at both ends"

is the slightly infelictious way in which the Bishop suggested that we announce this morning that the period of scanning small ads and wondering (and worrying) is over for the Curate's family.

I spent Wednesday being interviewed by parish reps from Cainscross and Selsley and at tea-time that day the phone rang
"We'd love you to come..."
I'm still trying to sort out my thoughts and my feelings.
I loved the people whom I met on Wednesday and the little glimpse of the two parishes (which have been a "united benefice" for a while now) - and I'm bowled over by the brand-new vicarage.
(It has, praise the Lord, a fireplace - so, for my family, I'm onto a winner come what may!)
The two communities, one urban, one rural, are very different - and both have so much to offer, so many strengths to build on, so much potential to tap. But I'm very aware that there are challenges, both obvious and unimagined, ahead. When I left the interviews on Wednesday I said to Longsuffering Clockmaker
"I have no idea whether I'm up to the task, but I'd really love to work with those people...so we'll just have to see if God wants me there"
Given the final outcome of the interviews, I have to believe that God does, and that He will give me the gifts I need in order to love and serve those people for his sake.As Hattie Gandhi pointed out, twenty-five years after leaving university - I've finally got a responsible job!

I want to leave here well - to tie up as many ends as are mine to tie and to ensure a smooth transition for the Dufflepud, who is in the run-up to GCSEs next summer, so I'm hanging on in Charlton Kings until after Easter. I know that may look like malingering to my new congregations, who have had a year of vacancy (though their NSM Associate Priest, who trained with me, is a real treasure, and they could not be in better hands) - but with such an early Easter I could not in all honesty be ready to leave here before Lent began - and it seemed wrong to arrive for Easter without walking through Lent with these people.
So I have four months to prepare, to read, to plan, to pray.
Please pray too for the parishes of Cainscross and Selsley, and for the whole Good in Parts family as well. I'm so looking forward to discovering where God wants us all to go together.

Hilda and ecumenism

Today the church remembers with gratitude Hilda of Whitby. When I set out to write about her during ordination training, I was disappointed that there was relatively little material to draw on, beyond the pages of Bede.
After all, as Abbess of a “Double monastery” of monks and nuns living together she is a real inspiration for women called to leadership in today’s church, today’s world, and it was heartening to read that in the Celtic church the belief was
"there resides in women an element of holiness and prophecy, so that men do not scorn to ask their advice nor lightly disregard their replies”’

[Aside:I love the idea of a double monastery…of a group of women living, 2 or 3 to a hut, in one part of the foundation with men in another and all uniting in daily worship. It seems to be a kind of ecclesiastical version of my dream existence for couples, each living in a tower of a gate house, with living rooms over the arch, to be visited when company is welcome!]

However, back to Hilda. Though her leadership of the community at Whitby brought her respect and renown in her day, she might now be almost forgotten were it not for the Synod that she hosted, to decide the course of English Christianity. The decision to follow the Roman calendar, and Roman practice generally was not without some cost – Aidan and his monks withdrew to Lindisfarne and their influence waned – but it seems to have been brought about with remarkably little resentment. Oswiu, the Northumbrian king who had ordered the synod, produced a succinct rationale for clarifying the situation of the English church
“it behooved those who serve one God to observe the same rule of life, and as they all expect the same kingdom in heaven, so they ought not to differ in the celebration of the Divine mysteries”
Having spent yesterday evening at our annual Charlton Kings Churches Songs of Praise, I can only agree.
Perhaps Hilda and all those who through the ages have been prepared to make some painful concessions for the sake of the gospel will pray for us as we continue to tie ourselves in knots and hurt one another both within and across denominations.

Meanwhile, Bede has a lovely legend of the time before Hilda's birth when her mother
[Breguswith] fancied in a dream that she was seeking [her husband] most carefully, and could find no sign of him anywhere; but after having used all her industry to seek him, she found a most precious jewel under her garment, which……..cast such a light as spread itself throughout all Britain; which dream was brought to pass in her daughter…whose life was a bright example to all who desired to live well.”

The legend is reflected in the Common Worship Collect for today

Eternal God
Who made the abbess Hilda to shine like a jewel in our land
and through her holiness and leadership blessed your Church with new life and unity:
Help us, like her, to yearn for the gospel of Christ
and to reconcile those who are divided;
through him who is alive and reigns with you
in the unity of the Holy Spirit
one God, now and forever.

Things to think about...part 1

Yesterday wasn't just Sunday, it was the day on which St M's celebrates its festival of dedication. We are 817 years old (and sometimes, I feel that way)...Interesting to celebrate while we are once again in the grip of a building project. Work on the removal of pews front and back has already given us a taste for how lovely it will be once the space is fully ours to use...but meanwhile the mess, muddle and disruption is beginning to weary some people, and yesterday was the first Sunday when the main west door was inaccessible, so that our traditional procession, with assorted banners (not all of them belonging to living groups in the church today) just couldn't happen.
And of course, this saddened many people - specially those who are unconvinced that the changes will really be worth it in the end.
2 years ago, FabBishop preached at Dedication - and commented on the slightly questionable symbolism of a procession that is actually more of a circulation, since it doesn't lead you on to a new place, but brings you back to where you started.
Yesterday, my good friend the Canon preached a stormingly good sermon - and likened the sounds of St M's gearing up for worship to a locomotive getting up steam...The question was, and is, whether this train is going to be simply another exhibit in a "Living Steam" museum...lovingly polished but never allowed to actually travel anywhere ( - or worse still, a model locomotive on one of those elaborate indoor layouts, doomed to go round and round in circles forever -)...or whether we might after all be heading off in search of the Christ who has already gone before us into...Galilee, the precinct, Beeches Road - wherever we least expect to find him.

Meanwhile, the changes so far are encouraging people to sit closer to one another, and they also enabled us to share cake and wine in the church after the service - which felt great to the curate, at least!

God of surprises

I'm certain that I'm not alone in observing that, the greater the muddles we get ourselves into, the more obvious it is that God is hugely involved, sorting things out for us as we go along.

It has been that way this week...specially with regard to yesterday's wedding.
Through many dangers, toils and snares we finally got to The Day. After a morning of chill and mizzle the sun burst through the clouds, the bride looked stunning - amazing dress and shining joy are a pretty unbeatable combination - the music was great, the bells rang out as the couple walked under the arch of swords provided by the groom's RAF comrades....and God was tangibly present in every word and deed.
This morning was equally blessed....and the muddle equally evident. We started well. St M's takes its ritual quite seriously, - but it's very hard to retain a dignified bearing when the whole procession has to go into reverse because habit has taken the advance party down an aisle leading to nowhere, thanks to to building work! It's a sight and a half, I tell you, a crucifer, acolytes with candles, the whole works shuffling slowly backwards in a confined space, while singing
"All my hope on God is founded".
And so it went on, so that singing "Just as I am" at the Offertory gained a new, comic potential...Just as we were this morning was clearly not quite as ordered as might be desirable...but with lots of God about the place, which is infinitely preferable.
The sermon went better than expected too (thanks in the frequent large measure to Dylan) and all in all it was a good morning.

Ouch of the day.

The Church is dying. Its structure and theology make no sense today and haven't for decades. Far from being innocuous, their outdated uselessness goes beyond a nostalgic irrelevance to purposeful insidiousness, not just taking up space, but monolithically standing in the way of the spirit. The dying Church impedes God's various attempts at theological and liturgical progress, obviates meaningful spiritual communication and change, and squanders the precious time of people desperately seeking nurture, affirmation, and God. (Chuck Meyer: Dying Church, Living God)

Someone posted this on a preaching list I subscribe to - and it made my blood run cold. Is this really where we are, do you think? Though I know Meyer's name, I've not read any of his writing and wonder where he comes from in the debate.

When I was clearing assorted diocesan hurdles en route to ordination, one of my interviewers asked me how I felt about signing up to work for a moribund institution...and I said, then, that I wasn't that fussed, as what mattered was that people were enabled to encounter and engage with God - and if the church had ceased to facilitate this, then it no longer had meaning, was indeed no longer truly church. I'd still say that, but I wonder what declarations like Meyer's say for the faithful ministry of thousands of priests and ministers across the world.To my mind, our best efforts are expended on ministering to those "seeking nurture, affirmation and God" - whether they are part of our congregations or (almost more often) outside them. In my experience the church has largely provided an enabling structure for that ministry...it's clearly a long long way from being the whole answer, but is the church really more part of the problem than the solution?

More tales of the interrupted

Yesterday's CME wasn't the only thing I've had to leave after only part of the programme this week. On Sunday our PCC met for lunch and an "away day" discussion on vision and strategy for the next three or four years. In part their discussion was informed by the new Diocesan Vision Statement*. The PCC focussed much more on nuts and bolts, starting the afternoon with a brainstorm of things that St M's does well, and those that it finds harder.
Really interesting stuff (specially noticing that some of the same items appear on both lists). Once again, I had to leave at this point, so I just don't know if they explored again what they understand the church to be for, - but judging by the papers that have emerged there was an hopeful focus on prayer, and also an anxiety around communication and inclusion. It was noticed that only a very small minority feel "brave" enough to join us as we pray the office, and we were speculating about why that might be so, wondering if the concept of "safety in numbers" applies here. I'm sure that many, not just at St M's, struggle with the interface between private and public prayer, and feel insecure in a situation that might seem to be not quite either. Late last night I read this over at Michael's place, and found it a really helpful focus around which to collect my own thoughts about a future church community, and reflections on the here and now.
This was the crunch part for me - as I try to work out ways to be "both/and"...

"Emerging generations long to experience authentic community. They crave to be in a smaller worshipping community where they can have ownership, deeply share their lives (the good and the bad), ask hard questions, and struggle with less than definite answers.'

I reckon everyone involved in what we're growing here in Gloucester would sign up to these words. As we've begun to experience 'small' worshipping community, and realised that there's nowhere to 'hide', that there's no consuming, only participating, I think we've all begun to realise that although there's a cost involved, it's a cost that comes with a generous payback.

The first part comes from Emerging Worship, the next is Michael's own reflections. "Nowhere to hide" would be hard for many people in my congregation, I suspect, though it would be wonderful to make them feel so aware of their value that hiding simply wasn't on the agenda.
Ah well, I guess I may just have to buy Dan Kimball's book - quoting it on the blog twice in a week seems to suggest it needs reading!
(Note to self; possibly read everything else in the queue first? Just an idea...)



*This doesn't yet seem to be online. It's certainly a worthwhile document, but one which errs slightly on the side of motherhood and apple pie, in that it would be very hard to argue against any element of it...my anxiety is that it might just allow everyone to sit back and say "Isn't it lovely. The church in Gloucester diocese stands for all these things. We're so glad to be part of it" - which really isn't the point, is it?)

Being there

A couple of comments on the last post deserved a bit more thought than a comment in my own comments - I'm still not sure where is the correct place to continue discussions on one's own blog when others have taken the conversation on a step or two forward and I'm not consistent, I know...but this time, here's a follow up.

Having had a specially disappointing turn out of families for his Pentecost cafe church (which sounded really good - but that's not something you ever notice when you're the one wondering where assorted semi-regulars are, as I know too well) Dr Moose was musing further about the residual connection between public holidays and Christian festivals here in England. Like the question of when to celebrate major festivals that don't happen on Sundays (Ascension, Epiphany et al), this isn't quite as straightforward as it might seem. I'm thinking specially of Easter, because this year the decision of Gloucestershire schools to break up on Maundy Thursday meant, yes, alot of hard work for choristers, servers etc who were involved in Holy Week services but also that it was perfect timing for inviting local schools to the Experience Easter Trail,- which was a great success right across the diocese. At last year's Greenbelt, FabBishop led a seminar on the need for the church to make the most of any possible connections with what, for want of a better phrase, we could call the Hallmark Calendar. He advocated a recovery of as many festive moments as possible in the year, - on the basis, I guess, that people are more likely to turn up to church if they know that, for example, the way the saints light up the world will be celebrated by fireworks after the Eucharist at All Saints tide...Mind you, he really believes in the attractional power of liturgy done well, - which works in the right places (I think Ch Kings may well be one of them) but would be pretty meaningless in many a context. No conclusions, but I think it might help to keep revisiting the questions.

In another response, Caroline Too suggested that " 'attendance' is an illusion of church family not a genuine aid to family making"...which is probably true. But the question then becomes, how do you forge genuine community? If Anglicanism allows for too much diversity (praise God!) for it to be simply founded on a shared body of belief set against those of others, and if being together celebrating the Eucharistic feast still allows some to feel distant, not fully connected...what is the trigger for building real family? Perhaps it's shared experience and corporate memory - which works in a settled community (and may indeed be what creates the family ties that do exist at St M's) but is harder to achieve in a more mobile context.
If you feel your church "works" as family, what makes the difference?

In which the architecture is thwarted once again.

To-day saw me battling with a cold, moving the horse to pastures new (very sadly, the yard where we've kept the ponies for several years has had to close as the landlord is selling up...) and attempting the interesting feat of writing two sermons at once.
Fortunately one of them was almost complete before the cold hit...It was specially fortunate, because this was the one I needed this evening for the Inclusive Church Eucharist.
The congregation was on the miniscule side, and, alarmingly, included rather more people whose opinions I respect hugely than might make for comfort...However, the liturgy was beautiful, the hymns just right, and I survived the preaching experience. If you want it, you'll find the sermon here.
The very best thing, though, was that when I went to prepare the Table at the Offertory I was thinking sadly "Now we'll be so far away from those people...it would be so much better if we'd only thought to invite them to come and stand round the Table"....and then the hymn started and their voices sounded so close, and I looked round and, lo, they had moved of their own accord!
That's twice in a fortnight that we've been able to subvert the architecture of St M's to stand as family together and it is wonderful.
Inclusive Church? Yes, really!

If only...

I promised to write more about Monday's CME event on Anglicanism and there's certainly much to reflect on, - perhaps more than ever in the wake of yesterday's wretched Chapter meeting!

When Richard Giles had finished his first talk, I asked the friend beside me
"Did you recognise that church?" and she sadly agreed that she hadn't. However, his rather idealised picture of the Church of England (possibly viewed through rose tinted spectacles from across the Pond, since he is now Dean of Philadelphia Catherdral) did serve to remind us of what Anglicanism at its best might be.
For me, perhaps his most attractive image was of a church in transit, a "happenstance group of pilgrims" that has far from arrived, an oasis for the spiritual nomad, and he made much of the positive value of not being a confessing church, not one defined by our doctrines, nor standing on our dignity. We are, after all, a church of fuzzy borders...in an essay at college I quoted someone who wondered whether "it is possible for a doctrine to be formulated that is too extreme to be included somewhere within Anglicanism.."- and Giles presented this as a huge bonus, talking of generosity of spirit that allowed us to include everyone, without interrogation at the altar rail.
If only, indeed....
He was loud, too, in his enthusiasm for the parish system...but fresh from my visit to Derbyshire last week, I'm having to re-evaluate that. I too have always felt this was one of our greatest strengths,- and in a community like Ch Kings it is easy to believe that it is still as powerful in its statement of all-embracing pastoral care. But in conversation with my non-church friend it became very clear that however much those within the church may believe that we exist to serve our communities, for the most part those communities don't even notice! I may comfort myself that St M's stands as a symbol of the presence of God with his people...but if the people aren't led to recognise this, they aren't going to grasp it by spontaneous osmosis!

Giles also waxed eloquent about the power of liturgy to transform those attending, and had much to say about our worship as an expression of continuity with the past, ancient yet modern, dignified but accessible....At this point the urge to shout b******s almost overwhelmed me - it would be lovely if it were that way (and on a good day, maybe it is), but who is he trying to kid?

He struck more chords for me with his suggestion that, if we can hold together heterogenous extremes within the Communion (a pretty big "IF" right now) we are a sign of hope, pointing to the possibility of reunion between the denominations too. He spoke of the Anglican ministry of moderation, dialogue and reconciliation which, he opined, we lose at our peril...this is, for him, the heart of the Anglican vocation, the distinctive thing that we can offer to the Christian Church across the world. But yesterday's Chapter experience suggested rather that the Anglican church was carrying within itself the full d.n.a. of the broken body of Christ, with all that pain...Not a sign of healing, but of deep deep wounds. This was a theme that Favourite Canon picked up later, in his overview of the emergence of Anglicanism from conflict upon conflict...his theme was, broadly speaking, " a church less comprehensive than confused" and he included some very telling words of Michael Ramsey's
"The Church of England is sent not to commend itself as the best type of Christianity, but by its very brokenness to point to the universal Church wherein all have died".
That did make sense to me.

Back, though, to Richard Giles who was entirely convincing when he spoke of the Jesus of the Gospels, the one who goes before us into Galilee, who invites us to follow, but promises nothing beyond the daily need to take up our cross. He contrasted this life of adventure and uncertainty with the popular black and white answers offered by other denominations, and indeed at the extremes of the Anglican spectrum too, and suggested that our pressing need was to find a way of "packaging" that "come and see" excitement. Here, for me, lay the real hope in his words. I loved the pictures he painted of the church he treasures. If it existed, I might well be seriously interested in joining it, but its not really the one within which I minister each day.
I guess, then, all I can do is keep on following,- rejoicing that we are a church on the move (even though it might seem that we are terminally stuck) and remembering always that "Aslan is not a tame lion".