Jameswoodward’s Weblog

An assumption has grown that ‘the government’ carries the responsibility for making our world a better place, and then blaming ‘the government’ when it fails to deliver. This is one of the decadent habits in our society because the public domain is everyone’s responsibility: that is the essence of the polis – a body of citizens. However, the public domain has lost credibility. Even democracy, in the fragmented environment of globalising nations, fails to build social cohesion. As is now often the case, the majority of people are ‘middling’ in terms of resources, but increasingly insecure and without the moral stretch to put the needs of others  above their own, and therefore voting ceases to be an integrative force.

Rather, it becomes the very opposite: it becomes a driver that widens the gap between richer and poorer, as the interests of the poor, although numerically significant, cannot match the political clout of the ‘middling majority. This can in turn trigger a further nasty process, because when the gap between the rich and the poor gets wider, everyone experiences a loss of well-being, including the rich.

 This is the finding made by Richard Wilkinson, an epidemi­ologist and specialist in public health. His extensive cross-cultural research highlights the deep cost of the growing gap between rich and poor across the globe. Wilkinson’s research identifies the mutuality and interconnectedness of our interests and well-being, and suggests that when things are grim the inclination is to become protective and defensive rather than attentive and generous in relation to the needs of others.

Bothered and Bewildered, Enacting Hope in Troubled Times

Ann Morisy, Continuum page 13

This feast day commemorates the martyrdom of the two great Apostles, assigned by tradition to the same day of June in the year 67. They had been imprisoned in the famous Mamertine Prison of Rome and both had foreseen their approaching death. Saint Peter was crucified; Saint Paul, a Roman citizen, was slain by the sword. Tomorrow the Church commemorates the Apostle of the Gentiles; today is dedicated primarily to Saint Peter.

The Chief of the Apostles was a native of Galilee like Our Lord. As he was fishing on its large lake he was called by Our Lord to be one of His apostles. Peter was poor and unlearned, but candid, eager, and loving. In his heart, first of all, his conviction grew, and then from his lips came the spontaneous confession: “Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God!” Our Lord chose him and prepared him to be the Rock on which He would build His Church, His Vicar on earth, the Head and Prince of His Apostles, the center and indispensable bond of the Church’s unity, the unique channel of all spiritual powers, the guardian and unerring teacher of His truth.

All Scripture is alive with Saint Peter; his name appears no fewer than 160 times in the New Testament. But it is after Pentecost that he stands out in the full grandeur of his office. He sees to the replacement of the fallen disciple; he admits the Jews by thousands into the fold and in the person of Cornelius, opens it to the Gentiles; he founds and for a time rules the Church at Antioch.

Ten years after the Ascension Saint Peter transferred his apostolic capital to Rome, going in person to the center of the majestic Roman Empire, where were gathered the glories and riches of the earth, along with all the powers of evil. From there he sent Saint Mark, his valued secretary, to establish the Church of Alexandria in Egypt. In Rome Saint Peter’s Chair was placed; there for twenty-five years he labored at building up the great Roman Church. He was crucified by order of Nero and buried on the Vatican Hill, where now the Basilica stands which bears his name.

Almighty God,
whose blessed apostles Peter and Paul
glorified you in their death as in their life:
grant that your Church,
inspired by their teaching and example,
and made one by your Spirit,
may ever stand firm upon the one foundation,
Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
Amen.

A Sermon preached in St Georges Chapel Windsor Castle 27 June 2010 at Mattins

‘Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.’ 

 (Luke 9. 51-62)

A glimpse of the nature of discipleship is offered to us this morning in the demanding and seemingly impossible directives of our Lord. What Jesus requires is single minded faithfulness. Here is an unprotected mission and a clear choice about priorities – a clean break with the past. Jesus’ single mindedness paves the way to challenge the disciples that no plausible distractions must deter them. Jesus warns us about compromise and accommodation to the social structures and the divided loyalties that might detract us from our life as disciples. These words challenge, prod and even anger.

I was recently at a long and rather tedious meeting .As my mind wandered I noticed that the clock on the wall wasn’t quite right; the second hand was moving correctly – tick, tick, tick, – counting every tiny section of the time with great regularity and determination – but the hour hand was stuck. Every second was counted, but time had no direction ad was going nowhere. We could have sat there forever if we had relied on that clock.

Unless we put the detail into a bigger picture – allow the seconds to become hours, days, years – then we are stagnant.

In any enterprise, not least the religious one we can be locked up into the small matters which make up most of our lives and miss the bigger picture – the vision and the demand. Jesus asks us to consider our purpose and to make intentional choices for the Gospel so that we can be signs of life and growth. We all know places and people where there is activity and meetings but no conversation and no reflection beyond the immediate and the mundane – tick, tick, tick.

We live in a community – a shared life – and all the more interesting for its partiality and humanness. All human nature comes out to play, for good and sometimes ill. Someone once asked Henry Kissinger why he thought it was academic politics that could be so vicious: ‘because the stakes are so small’ was his reply.

All places become small when they forget about the fostering of life and wisdom and worship and prayer – when they concentrate on the seconds and cannot tell the time. It takes effort to be radical – to get back to the roots of common purpose and to be visionary: to see beyond immediate concerns to recall the greater project of the common good of the Gospel.

I believe that Jesus asks us today a question about ultimate purpose and significance – and challenges us to think about whether we are prepared to pay the cost of discipleship. Let me put it another way – he asks us this : ‘ What will make you complete?’

And the answer? Look inside. Be honest. Open about your needs and your wants and see within these lie a great longing for God. A longing, yes in need, but also in love and trust – and the pulse of that longing is within all of us, though we mask it or deafen it or dull in with our tick, tick, tick of secondary concerns. We so often prefer to live on the surface and so miss the deeper pull of our souls towards God.  ‘What will make you complete?’

For those of us who are followers of Jesus, who have seen all the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ, then this longing takes shape in a life lived in fellowship with him and in obedience to his way, a fellowship shared by all those who are through his grace drawn together in his mystical body, and sustained by his spirit. This longing for God makes us disciples, a follower, a learner, servants sent in his name. In Christ this longing finds direction and shape. This community is a model, an enactment of what life’s true purpose is all about: a movement of the human soul in individual and society reaching out towards God; the stillness of the soul waiting on God; the hospitality of the human soul welcoming friend and stranger.  ‘What will make you complete?’ becoming more fully as human beings: Gods beloved in Christ. Of course we are imperfect; we get it wrong, we mess up, we are soiled and compromised. Our virtue is not our goodness but the choice we have made for Christ. Our complete dependence on God, making love for others a priority and preferring at all times mutuality and inter- connectedness.  Listening, bearing, working for justice, forgiving, praying. This will make us complete.

The pattern of Jesus’ life is good news for us. His being taken up – upon the cross and through the cross into the resurrection is to present to us and the world a receivable offering to God. His willingness constantly to repay challenge and criticism with mercy and justice is a sign of the wonder of God’s love for us – of taking us up into that love, embracing our lives and constantly renewing and restoring us.

This will make us complete. We respond and we follow. This does not mean that we shall be met with fame or praises or easy resolutions to life’s paradoxes. We shall have to embrace defeat – and failure as we celebrate the ideal, live by the vision.

‘Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.’

Faith is not a proud self-consistent f philosophy. It involves maintaining oneself between contradictions that can’t be solved by analysis. It is therefore a living response to the grace of God as revealed in fragile lives. It resembles a collage. Collages are slowly pieced together out of diverse materials in an attempt to present a portrait whose integrity is found in its variety and creativity. A collage of Christian faith will be built out of the Christian traditions and texts, the myriad experiences of human living, imagination, silence and prayer. This is not to deny the concept of revelation. On the contrary, I want to argue here that ‘truth’ for those who journey with God is not to be defined by the rational criteria of verification and falsification. It can instead be understood as meaning ‘manifestation’, letting what shows itself be, by the creative grace of God. No one has ever seen God, says St John. He is made known.

The Collage of God

Mark Oakley

  One of the sheer joys of my home in Windsor is the sense of the vast open space of the sky …..

This is the grass your feet are planted on.
You paint it orange or you sing it green,
But you have never found
A way to make the grass mean what you mean.

A cloud can be whatever you intend:
Ostrich or leaning tower or staring eye.
But you have never found
A cloud sufficient to express the sky.

From Adrienne Rich, Rural reflections.

‘Only when you make your peace with death,’ said Hamlet,
‘will you understand that everything under the sun is really new…’

From Vladimir Holan, A night with Hamlet

A quiet Saturday has gven me the opportunity to do some thinking and planning for an invitation to preach that has given me a great deal of pride and pleasure. On July 10th I shall travel north to preach in Durham Cathedral for the One hundreth and first Miners Festival Service in Durham Cathedral. A Homecoming and back to my roots ! Gladly I also mark 25 years of ordained life on 29th of June when the Bishop of Durham ordained me in that amazing building.

Here is a little bit more about the day:

I found myself putting odd bits of unwanted ‘stuff’ into a box the other day in preparation for the annual Heritage Weekend Fair – only to realize that this event belonged to my former parish which I left over a year ago. Old habits die hard!  I cam across thsi reflection that puts some of the mission of Christians into a broader perspective!

Jesus often compared the Kingdom to a very small thing that has universal effect – yeast working through a batch of dough, for instance. As such, the quantity serves the quality – you need enough yeast to make the whole loaf rise, but not too much or it overflows and can fall flat.

Parish life was never just about numbers, it was about pursuing all that makes for peace and builds up our common life.

Churches must recover a local imagination, of the sort where salvation began with the wangling of a welly, or where you root through a pile of musty jumble only to tug at the hem of your dreams.

Strangely Warmed, Reflections of God, Life and Bric-a-Brac

Andrew Rumsey, The Mowbray Lent Book 2010

 Page 27

All of us live with conflict. We experience conflict in relationships; we can be the cause of conflict at work. This article will explore the inevitability of conflict and encourage us to reflect its shape and how best we might use conflict to deepen understanding and enlarge our sympathies.

The following two examples reflect conflict in beliefs. In the first we note that friends are not bound together by a shared political view of how best to provide for the common good. In the second group we are confronted by difference over very firmly held convictions about church, human life and the nature of theology. In both conversations conflict emerges. Let us see if we can understand what is going on.

 First, it is General Election time. A group of friends gather to watch the first televised debate between the main party leaders. Over supper we declare our allegiances. Some of us have always voted in for a particular party. Part of our intention is shaped by a strong preference for the particular personality and look of a leader. The debate proceeds and amidst some good humoured comments none of us seem ready to change our preconceived positions. Voices are raised; whatever is said is not likely to make much difference.

 Second, an experienced group of educators and theologians gather in a theological college to learn about Continuing Indaba in the Anglican Communion – a process designed to introduce us to a ‘journey of conversation’ so that relationships for mission are deepened across difference. There are people in the group that I know I disagree with. I have listened to their voices and read their words. We are all aware of the destructive shape of conflict between Christians and its power to detract from our shared commitment to living the Gospel. It does not take very much time for conflict to emerge. This takes the shape of challenge (whose voices are we listening to?), others question the process (where is the power?), we all wonder about the reality of who is included and who is excluded from the table. Some have the courage to speak while others remain silent.

 Conflict might be defined as the opposition of facts, needs, methods or values. This may relate to how we read and interpret scripture and tradition. We disagree about how far; if at all the tradition can develop to accommodate change. Liberal attitudes to sex are, for some, the symptom of the Churches malaise. Conflict may be shaped by our class, gender and culture. In certain areas of the UK people vote according to the tradition of their class. Women look for different things in the political process than men. They are less likely to look for confirmation of their default voting choice and more ready to assess merits of the alternative programmes of Government.

 The first thing we need to do is to name the nature of the conflict. We might become more aware of what shapes our determination to disagree with others. In the first group the need for change in Government overrides any attention to the arguments of the Labour party. Two friends follow the voting pattern of their parents. Our experience, personality and education bear upon the views and beliefs we hold. Some regard not knowing or change as weakness. 

 In these situations conflict and its resolution seems impossible. We therefore have to live with the resulting stresses and tensions. We may say things, in frustration, that we come to regret. We my come to blame or hate others who do not share our values and world view. We may want to hold onto the cause for conflict and seek revenge. We can all direct our comments in the most personal of ways. Sometimes conflict is based on superficial reasons: we disagree with someone simply because we do not like what they look or sound like.

 If our expectation is certainty and the elimination of contradiction or paradox then it is unlikely that we shall want to engage with conflict or understand the roots of conflict. Some may want the Church to be clear, unambiguous, and direct especially in the area of ethics. We may simply misunderstand what another attempts to express because we have dismissed what we believe their political views to be. We may want power and control at the cost of others. We may not understand that any political position can contain within itself a variety of sophisticated convictions.  There are always voices that are convenient for us not to listen to or dismiss as irrelevant or untrue. 

 We all have to learn to live with the consequences of conflict. Conflict can be destructive when it absorbs our energies, polarizes people; reduces cooperation, increases or sharpens difference. There may be people in that room I disagree with but I should attempt to listen and be challenged. We might even be changed for the good.

 This is not to argue that conflict should be avoided. Conflict can be constructive when it results in clarification of important problems and issues. The Indaba process at the last Lambeth conference enabled a listening that held difference and where people were empowered to become part of the solution through offering a process of authentic communication. This builds cooperation among people through learning more about each other. 

 We might want to resolve conflict by surrendering one’s own needs and wishes to accommodate the other party. This is unlikely to happen in either political choice or in the present crisis in the Anglican Communion. More likely we avoid or postpone conflict by ignoring it, dismissing it or choosing not to be challenged by the deeper wisdom of it. This avoidance can be useful as a temporary measure to buy time or as an expedient means of dealing with very minor, non-recurring conflicts. In more severe cases, conflict avoidance can involve severing a relationship or leaving a group. This is a reality Anglicanism is living with.

 In this process collaboration  must always be a possibility– working together to find a mutually beneficial solution. This collaboration is time-intensive. If conflict is to be resolved and agreement reached most often this will mean compromise. It will almost certainly demand patience.

 The Bible pictures human life as a conflict between good and evil –in both testaments it is set in the context of a heavenly warfare and the cross is the paradoxical herald of victory. Christians are realistic about the realities of relationships and living. We know that conflict lies at the heart of the Gospel, its scheme of redemption links the conflict between good and evil with personal salvation. If we are to make this real then it will need some patience.  Patience makes possible a life of deferred gratification,attending to arguments and waiting for fruit to ripen before harvesting it. It is difficult to imagine a more countercultural way to live in our materialistic, fast-paced society. 

 Knowing that this life is not all that there is, that Gods time is not ours, and that God’s future is far better than we can imagine, makes possible a life of open-handed generosity.  This generosity should be especially extended to those we find ourselves in disagreement with. We should also be patient with ourselves. We groan and grumble. Paul uses the word groan to describe the way all creation groans together, eager to be freed from “its bondage to decay” (Romans 8:21-23). Christians are not to stand aside from that groaning and pain and yearning, but to share with all humanity in suffering and hoping for God’s salvation.

Patience involves a capacity to suspend such judgment, to live with unresolved problems and relationships. We need to nurture the gift of space and time so that we can live with the reality of contention, animosity and discord. We do not need to impose a quick fix on messy situations. We shall certainly need to give room to continuing to attend to those we are in conflict with. Only in this way, living in the light of God’s judgment and salvation, might we cultivate mutual understanding. We don’t have to force events by ignoring or dismissing those who threaten us with their opposing positions, or to manipulate relationships in order to get what we think we want. Rather, we have give ourselves and others the room and time to understand how people come to their convictions about human flourishing both in religion and society. Accepting diversity might help us grow into the kind of fellowship of love asked of us by the Gospel.

The premature resolution of conflict usually inflicts some kind of violence on one of the parties involved, by silencing them. The patience to listen, to withhold judgment, to attend to each person’s or group’s or country’s concerns, is a major part of diplomacy, whether in pastoral care, family life, church politics, or international relations. James calls this kind of diplomacy the “wisdom from above,” which is “pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, without uncertainty or insincerity” (3:17). 

 This is challenging work. In and through conflict we are offered the possibility of transformation. It will involve us in taking risks. So befriend your enemy – they may well be the source of a wiser living. Look for the sound and good in those you least feel have the right to be your teacher. Coalition thinking might help us to think about more than the preservation of self and narrow theological or social views.

Garter Day in 2010 takes place on Monday 14 June.  King George VI reintroduced an annual service for the Order of the Garter in 1948. Up to that year services had been held irregularly.  At first glance the processions, uniforms, robes and music seen and heard on Garter Day might appear to add up to nothing more than splendid pageantry.  However sitting at the core of the day is a service of worship, a thanksgiving service, to Almighty God surrounded by the symbolism of duty and service to Country and Commonwealth. 

Anybody watching the procession of Knights of the Garter, Heralds and Officers of the Order wend its way inside the Castle from the State Apartments to St George’s Chapel will, without doubt, see impressive uniforms, flowing robes, hear military bands and, once it has begun, hear the service inside the Chapel or broadcast into the precincts. The 24 Knights and Ladies of the Order of the Garter are personally chosen by The Queen (who was made a member of the order 62 years ago by her father, King George VI).  The Sovereign and Members of the Order are representatives of the Nation and the wider world; they have achieved much in their lives in a wide variety of spheres.  Members of the College of St George (which is an independent institution physically located within the Castle walls with St George’s Chapel at its heart) have a responsibility, given in 14th century statutes, to pray for the members of the Order of the Garter.  Such prayers still take place on a daily basis but members of the College further interpret that responsibility by trying to be of service to the wider society whether by individual effort or in other ways such as through the work, study and reflection of St George’s House, the consultation centre located right next to St George’s Chapel. 

The build up to Garter Day involves the work of many different people; a combination of individuals and teams from the Royal Household, the College of Arms, the Armed Services, the Police and those from St George’s all come together to ensure the day takes place as smoothly as possible for not only the Queen and members of the order but also approximately 8,000 other people in the Castle; about 900 of whom are inside St George’s Chapel.  The clergy, the musicians, the chapel staff, the cleaners, the works team, many volunteers and the office staff at St George’s have all worked together to ensure that not only the Garter service goes well but also all else that happens on that day runs as smoothly. Garter day is a time when most of those who live in the Castle entertain – so an individual’s day combines the unexpected mix of looking after and feeding guests together with the ceremonial, the practical and, most importantly, the Service. 

The Chapel is very much a working church – the Garter service is one of four services that day; every day of every week of every month of every year there are a minimum of three services open to the public.  On the Sunday before Garter Day the community at St George’s comes together to renew promises made in support of the spiritual home of the Order of the Garter and the day after the departed Knights of the Garter are remembered at a Solemn Requiem.