Last night, I sang with the Oriel Singers in a performance of Mozart's Requiem. The concert was well attended, despite the weather, and most people agreed that we have raised ourselves to a new level as a choir. It was a humbling experience. This was Mozart's last work, and was incomplete when he died. Although it had been commissioned, it is likely that he was aware he was writing it for his own death. The contrast throughout between the awesomeness of God's sovereign power and humanity's need for forgiveness and restoration inevitably causes one to reflect on one's own mortality and 'the last things'. And especially at this time of year, to be profoundly thankful for 'the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world' (Agnus Dei).
Last week saw the inaugural mass of Pope Francis in Rome and the installation of Justin Welby as Archbishop of Canterbury. These events were only 3 days apart, and it does seem something of a God-incidence that these two great, historic churches begin a new chapter at the same time, just before Holy Week and Easter. Past and present pope met each other yesterday, apparently; but what would happen if pope and archbishop were to meet? Such an encounter would inevitably attract the attention of the world's media, but in private might the conversation go something like this?
Pope Francis: Archbishop, I'm so pleased to meet you. May God richly bless you in your leadership of our brothers and sisters in Christ of the Anglican Communion. It seems to be ordained that we should begin our new ministries at the same time.
Archbishop Justin: Thank you for your greeting, Holy Father. May you also be blessed as head of the Roman Catholic Church. I'm sure there is much we may share together under God. We have both entered a new world, which neither of us would have expected 30 years ago: I from the oil industry to Archbishop, and you from Argentina to Rome. I tremble, as I'm sure you do, at all that may be expected of us.
PF: As you know, I requested the prayers of the faithful as my election was announced and I depend daily upon the grace of God as servant of the servants of God.
AJ: And I spoke at Canterbury of the need for courage as we step out with Christ into the stormy waters of today's world.
PF: We have one thing in common anyway: we preside over a church which herself has many problems and divisions. But I have a sense that the worst thing we could do would be to turn inwards upon ourselves, and try to sort them all out. Some problems just won't be fixable, though we have some that must be addressed.
AJ: I agree. For all our difficulties, our primary concern must be to engage in God's mission to the world, to face outwards rather than in.
PF: I've been thinking, how would it be if from time to time you and I were to speak together to God's world, of God's passion for peace and justice, God's love for humankind? You know the kind of thing: joint statements, united action, maybe even sharing a pilgrimage together. Wouldn't that be quite something - the Pope and the Archbishop speaking with one voice, acting as one? We wouldn't have to agree on everything before that could happen, would we?
AJ: I am amazed and humbled that you could suggest such a thing. Thank you. Actually, there is a kind of precedent in a local rather than global sense. Nearly 40 years ago, in Liverpool, England, there was another God-incidence of Anglican and Roman Catholic leaders taking office at the same time. Our man was Bishop David Sheppard, and yours Archbishop Derek Worlock. They became firm friends; they shared together their faith in the crucified and risen Christ; they acknowledged their theological differences but in crises - local and national - they often acted together in Christ's name, to great effect and for the common good.
PF: This is a story I must learn more about. And I don't suppose either Church was free of controversy then either.
AJ: No, although I think it would be fair to say that, with the passage of time, our reputations publicly have become rather more tarnished. There is a lot of ground to make up, but I still agree with you that becoming self-obsessed will not fulfil the missio dei, the mission of God.
PF: Let us talk some more of these things. Would you care to share a bottle of wine with me? - Chateau du Pape Neuf of course!
Sunday, 24 March 2013
Sunday, 17 March 2013
Another Invitation
I haven't blogged for a while - been on holiday. And while I was away, a new Pope. First signs are good. I loved the way he bowed his head and asked the crowd in St Peters Square to pray for him. There's something so profound about silence in the company of 10s of 1000s. And then what a way to unite Christians, inviting them to say the Our Father with him. I'm also impressed at his record of solidarity with the poor, and doing away with some of the trappings of the Papacy. 'Carnival time is over,' he is alleged too have said as he refused to wear Pope Benedict's silk and ermine cape!
Last Sunday, I heard the Dean of York (Vivienne Faull - ex curate of Mossley Hill) speak about the benefits of singing. It connects us with others - for example, a mother singing to her baby - and with our own past (ever listened to the Soundtrack of my Life on a Saturday morning, Radio 4?). In a religious context, it also connects us with God. I'm really enjoying singing Mozart's Requiem with the Oriel Singers at the moment. If you're in Liverpool and free next Saturday (23rd) why not come along to St David's, Childwall at 7.30 to hear it?
Last Sunday, I heard the Dean of York (Vivienne Faull - ex curate of Mossley Hill) speak about the benefits of singing. It connects us with others - for example, a mother singing to her baby - and with our own past (ever listened to the Soundtrack of my Life on a Saturday morning, Radio 4?). In a religious context, it also connects us with God. I'm really enjoying singing Mozart's Requiem with the Oriel Singers at the moment. If you're in Liverpool and free next Saturday (23rd) why not come along to St David's, Childwall at 7.30 to hear it?
Wednesday, 6 March 2013
'Together for the Common Good'
I want to invite you to a conference. It will be held at Liverpool Hope University, 6-8 September this year, and has the title 'Together for the Common Good'. You can read all about it, together with the movement of which it is a part, at http://www.togetherforthecommongood.co.uk/conference.html. In brief, it concerns faith-based movements for social justice both in today's world and that of the 1970s 80s and 90s when Bishop David Sheppard and Archbishop Derek Worlock were together in Liverpool. There is no doubt in my mind that their influence and inspirational leadership in the spirit of ecumenical cooperation saved the day as far as the City of Liverpool was concerned.
I had the great privilege of being Bishop Sheppard's chaplain in the earlier days of their friendship. I witnessed at first hand the high degree of accountability each had toward the other, their loyalty to each other and their passionate desire for 'the common good' in Liverpool and across the nation. These were, of course, the days of a robust right-wing Conservative national government and subsequently (in the early 1980s) a doctrinaire, extreme left-wing Militant Labour City Council. So bad did relations between the two become that at one stage Margaret Thatcher seriously considered annexing Liverpool, after the fashion of Northern Ireland. It was Worlock and Sheppard, in part, who dissuaded her, Sheppard later wrote, 'We never pretended to be negotiators between city and Government. We tried to interpret what was going on to parties who were not speaking to each other.' (Better Together, p.237.) So it was in October 1985 that the two church leaders wrote a joint letter to The Times, expressing concern that the needs of the people of Liverpool and other urban areas were simply not listened to in Whitehall.
This interpretative role for the Church seems to me as vital as ever in today's world, and indeed part of the Christian's role in social justice must be just that: to speak up for the needs of the poor, and wherever possible seek to meet them.
But I think it's also important to realise that the Sheppard-Worlock partnership was based fundamentally not on a pragmatic union for political (or perhaps apolitical) action, but on a true friendship in Christ - which included Bishop Sheppard's wife and daughter, as he explained in his book Better Together. It would be true to say, I believe, that God had brought them together for that time and that place and their faithfulness to God and to each other is what enabled them to be so effective in their leadership. Those who are involved in social action today, from a Christian standpoint, need to be equally sure where their confidence lies: in their divine vocation rather than simply trying (as the saying goes) 'to make a difference.' After all, we believe in a God who 'makes whole both people and nations.'
I had the great privilege of being Bishop Sheppard's chaplain in the earlier days of their friendship. I witnessed at first hand the high degree of accountability each had toward the other, their loyalty to each other and their passionate desire for 'the common good' in Liverpool and across the nation. These were, of course, the days of a robust right-wing Conservative national government and subsequently (in the early 1980s) a doctrinaire, extreme left-wing Militant Labour City Council. So bad did relations between the two become that at one stage Margaret Thatcher seriously considered annexing Liverpool, after the fashion of Northern Ireland. It was Worlock and Sheppard, in part, who dissuaded her, Sheppard later wrote, 'We never pretended to be negotiators between city and Government. We tried to interpret what was going on to parties who were not speaking to each other.' (Better Together, p.237.) So it was in October 1985 that the two church leaders wrote a joint letter to The Times, expressing concern that the needs of the people of Liverpool and other urban areas were simply not listened to in Whitehall.
This interpretative role for the Church seems to me as vital as ever in today's world, and indeed part of the Christian's role in social justice must be just that: to speak up for the needs of the poor, and wherever possible seek to meet them.
But I think it's also important to realise that the Sheppard-Worlock partnership was based fundamentally not on a pragmatic union for political (or perhaps apolitical) action, but on a true friendship in Christ - which included Bishop Sheppard's wife and daughter, as he explained in his book Better Together. It would be true to say, I believe, that God had brought them together for that time and that place and their faithfulness to God and to each other is what enabled them to be so effective in their leadership. Those who are involved in social action today, from a Christian standpoint, need to be equally sure where their confidence lies: in their divine vocation rather than simply trying (as the saying goes) 'to make a difference.' After all, we believe in a God who 'makes whole both people and nations.'
Sunday, 3 March 2013
Take Courage!
Nearly a week since last blog! Slipping!
I thought I'd just share something I read a few days ago:
Love without courage and wisdom is sentimentality, as with the ordinary churchgoer.
Courage without love and wisdom is foolhardiness as with the ordinary soldier.
Wisdom without love and courage is cowardice, as with the ordinary intellectual.
But the one who has love, courage and wisdom moves the world. (Ammon Hennacy 1893-1970)
Makes you think.
I thought I'd just share something I read a few days ago:
Love without courage and wisdom is sentimentality, as with the ordinary churchgoer.
Courage without love and wisdom is foolhardiness as with the ordinary soldier.
Wisdom without love and courage is cowardice, as with the ordinary intellectual.
But the one who has love, courage and wisdom moves the world. (Ammon Hennacy 1893-1970)
Makes you think.
Monday, 25 February 2013
Reflections on Sunday - and a Discovery
Three churches and three very different services yesterday. The early morning service was at Mossley Hill. A random collection of people, individually dotted around the church, but coming together at the Lord's table. Friendly conversation to follow, catching up on people's health and family news.
The main morning service was at St Barnabas, Penny Lane. We experimented a bit: a service of Holy Communion, seated in a square around a smaller table in the middle. You can do these things with a smaller congregation! There were about 40 people present, and I didn't pick up any complaints (which doesn't mean there weren't any, of course.) This idea came from our Leadership Team, as a way of expressing 'Christ in the centre' and ourselves as a community of blessing. I would say it worked in both ways. Singing was great, and the liturgical responses tremendous! It also made for a sense of greater informality when it came to preaching, and we all stood together around the square to receive communion.
Not only is there a growing sense of community at St Bs, with a readiness to accept change, but we are beginning to attract some young families. Hallelujah! So after the service, I had coffee with some of them to hear how church works for them. It was all positive, all appreciative of the hospitality of St Bs. The main desire is for a designated creche area as there are quite a few infants; also some kind of provision (I don't say Sunday School) for 7-10s as there is a handful of these now. Both requests we should be able to meet. I am so thankful for the way this church is moving on, ever ready to consider ways in which we can be more outward looking and fulfil our sense of call to be a 'civic' or neighbourhood church. There was even a conversation afterwards about removing all the pews, but I suspect this is not our first priority right now. Tempted though.
The afternoon was spent largely preparing an address on 'the church at prayer' for the final service of the day at All Hallows. This also was in an informal setting (about 20 people, gathered in a semi circle on the dais at the front of church) for a Taize style act of worship. It was very atmospheric, very prayerful. And special thanks to Ian, our trainee Reader, who had never been to a Taize service before (never even heard of it!) but did his homework via YouTube and the internet to lead the singing. Brilliant.
Then, to finish the day, I discovered Skype. Wow! I have a former schoolfriend (I didn't say 'old', as he'll probably be reading this) who has emigrated to New Zealand. He has often encouraged me to Skype but somehow I have never got around to it. (In case you don't know, it's a kind of internet-based video telephone via computer). So last night, we finally got connected. Incredibly clear, next best thing to talking to someone in the same room. Peter (my friend) is something of a techno-whizz - always was streets ahead of me in the intelligence department! - and gave me a tour of my own computer. This is rather scary, actually: someone thousands of miles away can 'see' your computer screen and navigate you around it by remote control. You can see how vulnerable we are to hackers. Good job I can trust Peter totally. It was an exhilirating end to the day. I was ready for bed!
The main morning service was at St Barnabas, Penny Lane. We experimented a bit: a service of Holy Communion, seated in a square around a smaller table in the middle. You can do these things with a smaller congregation! There were about 40 people present, and I didn't pick up any complaints (which doesn't mean there weren't any, of course.) This idea came from our Leadership Team, as a way of expressing 'Christ in the centre' and ourselves as a community of blessing. I would say it worked in both ways. Singing was great, and the liturgical responses tremendous! It also made for a sense of greater informality when it came to preaching, and we all stood together around the square to receive communion.
Not only is there a growing sense of community at St Bs, with a readiness to accept change, but we are beginning to attract some young families. Hallelujah! So after the service, I had coffee with some of them to hear how church works for them. It was all positive, all appreciative of the hospitality of St Bs. The main desire is for a designated creche area as there are quite a few infants; also some kind of provision (I don't say Sunday School) for 7-10s as there is a handful of these now. Both requests we should be able to meet. I am so thankful for the way this church is moving on, ever ready to consider ways in which we can be more outward looking and fulfil our sense of call to be a 'civic' or neighbourhood church. There was even a conversation afterwards about removing all the pews, but I suspect this is not our first priority right now. Tempted though.
The afternoon was spent largely preparing an address on 'the church at prayer' for the final service of the day at All Hallows. This also was in an informal setting (about 20 people, gathered in a semi circle on the dais at the front of church) for a Taize style act of worship. It was very atmospheric, very prayerful. And special thanks to Ian, our trainee Reader, who had never been to a Taize service before (never even heard of it!) but did his homework via YouTube and the internet to lead the singing. Brilliant.
Then, to finish the day, I discovered Skype. Wow! I have a former schoolfriend (I didn't say 'old', as he'll probably be reading this) who has emigrated to New Zealand. He has often encouraged me to Skype but somehow I have never got around to it. (In case you don't know, it's a kind of internet-based video telephone via computer). So last night, we finally got connected. Incredibly clear, next best thing to talking to someone in the same room. Peter (my friend) is something of a techno-whizz - always was streets ahead of me in the intelligence department! - and gave me a tour of my own computer. This is rather scary, actually: someone thousands of miles away can 'see' your computer screen and navigate you around it by remote control. You can see how vulnerable we are to hackers. Good job I can trust Peter totally. It was an exhilirating end to the day. I was ready for bed!
Tuesday, 19 February 2013
Another Fallen Idol?
If you get the chance, go and watch The Misanthrope, currently at the Liverpool Playhouse till 9 March then on tour. It's Roger McGough's adaptation of Moliere's 17th century satire of French society. Very clever script and very funny. The poet Alceste hates the world in which he lives, with all its pretence and affectation, but in the end cuts a rather lonely figure as he dissociates himself from it.
I wrote last time about Lent as a time for engagement. How does one engage with a world which at times seems so far from what the Creator intended? Separation, like Alceste, is not really the answer. Christians are 'citizens of heaven' (next Sunday morning's reading from Philippians 3.20) living, as it were, in exile here on earth. Like foreign ambassadors, we extend the courtesies due to the host culture but also bring something of our own.
The current 'horse meat' scandal is revealing I think, fuelled by much media hype. Actually, there's nothing wrong with eating horses is there? - not if you're a carnivore anyway, and the meat is not contaminated in any way (yet to be proven, I think). Mind you, there's a strong argument for vegetarianism in the book of Genesis, and more of us may be turned that way after this! It's just that a) we Brits seem to have a love affair with the horse which makes the thought of eating it distasteful (though it was ok during the War I gather) and b) we have been misled by sharp practices in the food industry. I wonder whether the fuss is greater because of a rather deeper issue: we idolise food. We seem to be satiated with thoughts of food as much as we are by images of sex: most magazines have recipes in them (often with obscure and expensive ingredients), there are countless books about food, and there is endless advertising offering us more and more choices, seasonal and otherwise. Meanwhile, 1 in 8 people in the world still suffer from chronic hunger. Christian Aid (www.christianaid.org.uk) have just launched a new campaign: ENOUGH FOOD FOR EVERYONE IF, which says it all.
If our love of food is a kind of idolatry, then we will not only pay any price to get it (note the prices charged in fancy restaurants - although we prefer it cheap!) but we will also care little for those who go without. We lose our sense of perspective. Most idols are good things in themselves but have become perverted by assuming an importance greater than they are worth. And in our culture, one idol after another is falling: money (the banks), power (politicians), sex (the media - of a certain kind), celebrities (e.g. Oscar Pistorius) and even religion (the Church). Who or what can you trust?
I heard yesterday of the latest diet: the 5:2, which involves 5 days a week eating what you like and the other 2 a severe calorie restriction. Also known as the 'intermittent fasting' diet, because the 2 fast days are not to be consecutive. Although this could be a diet of ridiculous extremes - gorging one minute and almost starving the next - the more serious-minded are looking carefully at the discipline of fasting, which religious people do know a thing or two about: Muslims, Buddhists, Jews and Christians in particular. The virtue of this diet seems to be that of restoring some kind of balance to one's eating habits, if considered seriously.
Abstinence makes the heart grow fonder? The key to the balanced life is to ensure that one's centre is healthy. As Jesus said, 'if your eyes are good your whole body will be full of light' (Matthew 6.22) so be careful where you fix your sights. No idols!
I wrote last time about Lent as a time for engagement. How does one engage with a world which at times seems so far from what the Creator intended? Separation, like Alceste, is not really the answer. Christians are 'citizens of heaven' (next Sunday morning's reading from Philippians 3.20) living, as it were, in exile here on earth. Like foreign ambassadors, we extend the courtesies due to the host culture but also bring something of our own.
The current 'horse meat' scandal is revealing I think, fuelled by much media hype. Actually, there's nothing wrong with eating horses is there? - not if you're a carnivore anyway, and the meat is not contaminated in any way (yet to be proven, I think). Mind you, there's a strong argument for vegetarianism in the book of Genesis, and more of us may be turned that way after this! It's just that a) we Brits seem to have a love affair with the horse which makes the thought of eating it distasteful (though it was ok during the War I gather) and b) we have been misled by sharp practices in the food industry. I wonder whether the fuss is greater because of a rather deeper issue: we idolise food. We seem to be satiated with thoughts of food as much as we are by images of sex: most magazines have recipes in them (often with obscure and expensive ingredients), there are countless books about food, and there is endless advertising offering us more and more choices, seasonal and otherwise. Meanwhile, 1 in 8 people in the world still suffer from chronic hunger. Christian Aid (www.christianaid.org.uk) have just launched a new campaign: ENOUGH FOOD FOR EVERYONE IF, which says it all.
If our love of food is a kind of idolatry, then we will not only pay any price to get it (note the prices charged in fancy restaurants - although we prefer it cheap!) but we will also care little for those who go without. We lose our sense of perspective. Most idols are good things in themselves but have become perverted by assuming an importance greater than they are worth. And in our culture, one idol after another is falling: money (the banks), power (politicians), sex (the media - of a certain kind), celebrities (e.g. Oscar Pistorius) and even religion (the Church). Who or what can you trust?
I heard yesterday of the latest diet: the 5:2, which involves 5 days a week eating what you like and the other 2 a severe calorie restriction. Also known as the 'intermittent fasting' diet, because the 2 fast days are not to be consecutive. Although this could be a diet of ridiculous extremes - gorging one minute and almost starving the next - the more serious-minded are looking carefully at the discipline of fasting, which religious people do know a thing or two about: Muslims, Buddhists, Jews and Christians in particular. The virtue of this diet seems to be that of restoring some kind of balance to one's eating habits, if considered seriously.
Abstinence makes the heart grow fonder? The key to the balanced life is to ensure that one's centre is healthy. As Jesus said, 'if your eyes are good your whole body will be full of light' (Matthew 6.22) so be careful where you fix your sights. No idols!
Wednesday, 13 February 2013
Ecclesia curvata in se
Well, that title may have got your attention! I just hope my Latin is correct. If Pope Benedict can give his resignation in Latin, perhaps a Latin response is called for? (Translation to follow).
I like to think that the Pope's resignation was a selfless act. There comes a time when a leader needs to admit that he or she is no longer up to the job and it would be in the best interests of their organization for them to move on. I hope that is what the Pope, guided by the Holy Spirit, has concluded. However, the Vatican does rather have a reputation for manipulative and shady dealings and I can't help wondering whether Benedict is simply making sure that another conservative like himself is elected - having already loaded the College of Cardinals with men after his own heart. Pity the next Pope anyway with this eminence grise in the background!
There now follows a period of intense activity behind the scenes in the Vatican, and across the Roman Catholic Church until a new Pope is elected. Because the whole process is so secretive, we have no idea what the job description is, nor the person spec, nor the priorities which the new Pope will identify. One simply hopes that the new Pope, like his predecessor but one, will have a real heart not just for the Church but for the world. It is so easy for a Church to be preoccupied with its own agenda.
Perhaps that is the sin of the Church? Luther described sin as curvatus in se - 'turned in on oneself', hence the title of this piece. Is that the Church's problem? And we in the CofE - and in the Mossley Hill Team - can hardly afford to throw stones. It is a constant dilemma, one with which I have struggled for years.
Yesterday, I was present at a 'Streetfaith' meeting: a gathering of people of faith and of none to share together concerns and action for the homeless and destitute in Liverpool. (Did you know there is a hard core of some 20 people in Liverpool at the present moment, who have no proper home?) I sit at these meetings uncomfortably, knowing how little I actually contribute. I am humbled by the work that is done by some local churches, by organizations like the Basement and the Whitechapel Centre (not faith organizations); I am indignant at the conditions in which some people find themselves either because of their own poor choices, or because of circumstances not of their own making (seriously exacerbated by Government cuts); and I feel helpless to know what to do myself. At least, I can be informed to help defend the cause of the weak and to pray, rather than join the chorus there often is about it being 'their fault'.
Today is Ash Wednesday. Lent can so easily be a time for an increase of religion, feeling better about oneself because of whatever rigours, deprivations or disciplines one has taken on. Increasingly, I feel it is a time for engagement, for confronting the powers of negativity, hopelessness and despair both in one's own life and in the world around. Luke's account of the Temptations ends somewhat ominously: The Devil left him until an opportune time. The battle is not over. It never is - till Kingdom come.
I like to think that the Pope's resignation was a selfless act. There comes a time when a leader needs to admit that he or she is no longer up to the job and it would be in the best interests of their organization for them to move on. I hope that is what the Pope, guided by the Holy Spirit, has concluded. However, the Vatican does rather have a reputation for manipulative and shady dealings and I can't help wondering whether Benedict is simply making sure that another conservative like himself is elected - having already loaded the College of Cardinals with men after his own heart. Pity the next Pope anyway with this eminence grise in the background!
There now follows a period of intense activity behind the scenes in the Vatican, and across the Roman Catholic Church until a new Pope is elected. Because the whole process is so secretive, we have no idea what the job description is, nor the person spec, nor the priorities which the new Pope will identify. One simply hopes that the new Pope, like his predecessor but one, will have a real heart not just for the Church but for the world. It is so easy for a Church to be preoccupied with its own agenda.
Perhaps that is the sin of the Church? Luther described sin as curvatus in se - 'turned in on oneself', hence the title of this piece. Is that the Church's problem? And we in the CofE - and in the Mossley Hill Team - can hardly afford to throw stones. It is a constant dilemma, one with which I have struggled for years.
Yesterday, I was present at a 'Streetfaith' meeting: a gathering of people of faith and of none to share together concerns and action for the homeless and destitute in Liverpool. (Did you know there is a hard core of some 20 people in Liverpool at the present moment, who have no proper home?) I sit at these meetings uncomfortably, knowing how little I actually contribute. I am humbled by the work that is done by some local churches, by organizations like the Basement and the Whitechapel Centre (not faith organizations); I am indignant at the conditions in which some people find themselves either because of their own poor choices, or because of circumstances not of their own making (seriously exacerbated by Government cuts); and I feel helpless to know what to do myself. At least, I can be informed to help defend the cause of the weak and to pray, rather than join the chorus there often is about it being 'their fault'.
Today is Ash Wednesday. Lent can so easily be a time for an increase of religion, feeling better about oneself because of whatever rigours, deprivations or disciplines one has taken on. Increasingly, I feel it is a time for engagement, for confronting the powers of negativity, hopelessness and despair both in one's own life and in the world around. Luke's account of the Temptations ends somewhat ominously: The Devil left him until an opportune time. The battle is not over. It never is - till Kingdom come.
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