Reflections

Thankfulness

sheumais Pastoral Letter, Reflections

I suppose that as I have got older, I have come to appreciate more the simple, ordinary, everyday, things of life – the sunrise, the dew on the grass, the spring flowers, the laughter of children and so on. It is not hard to make supplications to God when things are not going well and we feel that we need divine intervention, but it’s much easier to forget to give thanks to God for all the simple gifts that God gives us and without which we would not be able to survive.

A few years ago when I was travelling back from Edinburgh, our train was delayed just before Perth, to allow the train from Glasgow to go on ahead of us. Now those of you that travel this route will perhaps have guessed that we were supposed to join that train from Glasgow, for the journey from Perth to Inverness, but we arrived in Perth just as it pulled out. By this point the next train to Inverness had been cancelled on account of the weather. Some of our group got a little bit upset, but as a lovely lady said very movingly, after you have had a phone call from the back of an ambulance to tell you that your only daughter is being rushed to hospital in a critical condition having been seriously injured in a road accident, little inconveniences like missed connections never seem quite so important again.

This week I listened to a number of people grumbling about ruined holidays because of high temperatures and wild fires on the news and moaning that the authorities or airlines of tour operators had not done enough to help them, in contrast to those who expressed their gratitude for what had been done for them and that they, their fellow holiday-makers and their hosts had all escaped uninjured and alive.  Of course I have sympathy for people who suffer the disappointment of disrupted holidays, postponed operations and all the other things that don’t go according to plan, but it just goes to show that we can never be in complete control of our lives and have to rely on the grace of a God who “moves in mysterious ways His wonders to perform”.

The ancient Eucharistic liturgies began their Eucharistic prayer with thanksgiving for creation and only afterwards for redemption through Christ. One of the earliest, “The Liturgy of St James” used in the Church of Jerusalem, which was used as a basis for the 1764 Scottish Communion Office by Thomas Rattray, Bishop of Dunkeld. 

In the Preface at the start of the eucharistic prayer we find the words:

“It is very meet, right and our bounden duty to praise Thee, to bless Thee, to worship Thee, to glorify Thee, to give thanks unto thee, the maker of all creatures visible and invisible, the treasure of all good things; the fountain of life and immortality; the God and Governor of the universe: to whom the Heaven and the Heaven of Heavens sing praise, with all their hosts: the Sun and Moon, and the wholes choir of Stars: the Earth and Sea and all things that are in them”

Liturgy of St James

Later on in the Eucharistic Prayer we find:

“Remember, O Lord, to grant us temperate weather, moderate showers, pleasant dews, and plenty of the fruits of the earth, and to bless the whole circle of the year with thy goodness. For the eyes of all hope in Thee, and thou givest them food in due season; thou opened thy hand and fillest every living creature with thy gracious bounty.”

Liturgy of St James

I wonder whether we should not return to such wide-ranging and expressive offerings of thanksgiving, as I feel that our current Eucharist is focussed too narrowly on thanksgiving for bread and wine and the sacrifice of Christ, when we have all so much more to be thankful to God for.

Perhaps a greater appreciation of all that we take for granted might make us more sensitive to what our over-consumption is doing to “the Earth and Sea and all things that are in them” … and that wouldn’t be a bad thing.

Blessings
James

The “Two-Book” Approach to Revelation

sheumais Pastoral Letter, Reflections

Yesterday, when I was out walking our Collie, Moss, in a generally fairly uniform patch of managed pinewoods, I saw a single rather striking white foxglove. Now most of the foxgloves around us are purple, but there weren’t even any of those in the vicinity either. I found this discovery a very moving spiritual experience and it set me thinking about the revelation of God. 

One view is that God’s Revelation is more or less circumscribed by Scripture and that any consideration of God in Creation is confined to a literal interpretation of Genesis 1 and 2, which themselves contain two quite different accounts of Creation. It would seem that at that point all creatures had been designed and given their place on earth and nothing much has changed in that regard since. God of course also revealed himself in Jesus Christ in ways narrated by the Gospels and attested to in the Epistles.

This view seems to suggest to me that God did Creation and then retired for a while, popping up in the lives of the people of Israel for about 6000 years before deciding to do something decisive about these rebellious folk who had played fast and loose with the Covenant that He entered into with Moses on Mount Sinai and which we know as the Ten Commandments. He decided to enter into a New Covenant through the life and ministry, death and resurrection of His only begotten Son Jesus Christ. Then having sorted things out and inspired a number of folk to write it all up for our instruction, He retired and stopped revealing Himself.

Well you won’t be surprised to hear that I don’t buy that rather reductionist view of God and Revelation. Do we not see the face of God in each other and in the whole of the created world revealing itself anew every day? Of course I am not the first to suggest such a radical thing.  It seems to me that it’s exactly what St Francis’ life and work revolved around and The Patristic theologian Maximus the Confessor claimed that “Creation is the accuser of the ungodly” and even went as far as to say “that by means of the visible [natural] world we should understand whence we came, what we are, for what purpose we were made and where we are going”

Pope John Paul II picked up the theme in January 2000 when he said:

“In beholding the glory of the Trinity in creation, man must contemplate, sing and rediscover wonder. In contemporary society people become indifferent ‘not for lack of wonders, but for lack of wonder’ (G. K. Chesterton). For the believer, to contemplate creation is also to hear a message, to listen to a paradoxical and silent voice, as the ‘Psalm of the sun’ suggests: ‘The heavens are telling the glory of God; and the firmament proclaims his handiwork. Day to day pours forth speech, and night to night declares knowledge. There is no speech, nor are there words; their voice is not heard; yet their voice goes out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world’ (Ps 19: 1-5).”

JOHN PAUL II – GENERAL AUDIENCE – Wednesday 26 January 2000

Nor is this only a recent idea, Article II of the Belgic Confession of the Reformed Churches of the Netherlands from 1561 asks: 

“By What Means God is Made Known unto Us”.

Article II of the Belgic Confession

The answer:

“We know Him by two means: First, by the creation, preservation, and government of the universe; which is before our eyes as a most elegant book, wherein all creatures, great and small, are as so many characters leading us to see clearly the invisible things of God, even his everlasting power and divinity, as the apostle Paul says (Rom. 1:20). ‘All which things are sufficient to convince men and leave them without excuse’. Second, He makes Himself more clearly and fully known to us by His holy and divine Word, that is to say, as far as is necessary for us to know in this life, to His glory and our salvation.”

Article II of the Belgic Confession

So as you enjoy the summer weather (whatever form that may take), I urge you to rejoice in God’s continuing revelation in all of His Creation and in everyone that you meet and treat both with the care and respect that they deserve as beloved creations of their Creator.

Blessings
James

It’s always the innocent who suffer most

sheumais Pastoral Letter, Reflections

For the first half of the 20th century, present-day Sudan was a colony of the British Empire. Sudan achieved independence from Britain in 1956 but civil war was already brewing between the north and the south. Part of the problem is the clash of cultures, religions and ethnicities of sub-Saharan Africa with those of the Arab Islamic world. Since 1956 there have been only 11 years of peace and so more than 50 years of civil war at one level or another. 

Sudan is the largest country in Africa and borders nine other countries, including Egypt, Chad, Kenya and Ethiopia. The capital of Sudan, Khartoum, sits where the White Nile and the Blue Nile join together to form the Nile which flows north to Egypt and into the Mediterranean. Now Sudan has a population estimated to be about 40 million, of which 52 percent of which are African, and 40 percent Arab. Over two thirds of the population is Muslim while Animists and Christians, who for the most part live in southern Sudan, account for a third. Arabic is the official language, and the government has attempted to impose Islamic sharia law on the whole country since 1983, which led to Sudan’s longest civil war, from 1983 to 2005 and involved not just southern Sudan but the people of the Nuba mountains, Blue Nile and eastern Sudan as well, and the peace agreement in 2005 left those other conflicts unresolved.

The Darfur conflict erupted 20 year ago in April 2003 when the Sudan Liberation Movement attacked Sudanese military forces at the al-Fashir airport in North Darfur. In the years that followed, hundreds of thousands of people were killed, and millions more displaced in the war between rebel forces and the military.

Recently our news media have been awash with the rapid escalation in violence in Sudan. Intense clashes between Sudan’s military and the country’s main paramilitary force have killed hundreds of people and sent thousands fleeing for safety, and this latest civil war threatens to destabilise the wider region.

There is currently a power struggle between the two main factions of the military. The Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF), broadly loyal to Gen Abdel Fattah al-Burhan, the country’s de facto ruler, are pitted against the paramilitaries of the Rapid Support Forces (RSF), a collection of militia who follow a former warlord Gen Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo, known as Hemedti.

As well as a tussle for power, at the root of much of the conflict are the economic and political disparities in the regions, and since no government, civilian or military, has seriously addressed these, it was only a matter of time before the violence in specific regions like Darfur expanded to engulf the centre and has led to the rapid exodus from Khartoum and ordinary people try to escape the fighting.

For civilians in Sudan at the moment, simply holding on to hope is a huge challenge. Those stepping out of their front doors don’t know whether they’ll return alive. As Christian’s we need to pray for the safety of those living in fear. We need to pray for justice and healing, and for an outcome that doesn’t open the way to more radicalisation and tension. And we need to pray that the Sudanese people may in due course be ruled by a government that respects human rights, freedom of worship, equality and dignity for all of whatever race or religion.

Driving the long desert road in Southern Egypt towards the Sudanese border in 2004

Blessings
James

The Queen’s Coronation 2nd June 1953

sheumais Reflections

1952/53 were very memorable years for me. Life up until then had been spent mainly in London, living with the smog and amongst the damaged buildings, with reconstruction going on everywhere. Despite all the damage done, there seemed to be hundreds of people everywhere and even the unsafe remains of houses were used for large families to live in, until better accommodation could be found. Queues for everything resulted in people getting to know almost everyone in the area. There was always excitement when deliveries of goods which had not been seen for a while, arrived, and the resultant rush for the queue was inevitable as only so much could be delivered, so it was on a very much “first come, first served” basis. We seemed to know everyone, there were shortages of everything, all the people appeared to work together in communities and although food was rationed and there was never enough of it, we didn’t starve.

The biggest news in 1952 was the shattering blow of the death of the king. He and his family had been a great support to the Londoners and the country and to be taken just as things were recovering for all of us was a great sadness. However, Princess Elizabeth was a real beauty and we could not have asked for more in a future queen. We did not have a television at that time, so were not so aware of the fact that she and the Duke of Edinburgh were carrying out royal duties abroad, nor the fact that her children, Charles and Ann, were left behind. Although this behaviour appears harsh now, it was quite common in those days and the man of the house was not expected to take much time with the children as he was the bread winner.

I was in the lucky position of having spent a lot of time in Central London, my grand-parents were all employed near to Buckingham Palace, so I was taken to see many of the “Changing of the Guard”, and was frequently by the gate when the King and Queen drove through. My maternal grand-father served in the Army for many years in India; when returning with the family to England in 1930’s he had been injured and was given a civilian post at the Royal Chelsea Hospital. My grandmother was employed as Chef, so many of my youngest days were spent “helping out” with the Chelsea Pensioners (as only an under five can!) I was also taken to see the parades and horses, so by the time the coronation came along, it wasn’t such a “big deal” for me. I had also had a “peep” at the Coronation coach when it was taken out of mothballs for a “refresh”, I cannot remember what they were doing to it, but the Gold on it stayed in my mind to this day. I think there must have been a sense of foreboding about the king’s health at the time, but I really cannot remember at what age I was when I was in the privileged position of seeing the coach.

At my new school there was great excitement and plans made for celebrations of the Coronation. We were such lucky children, the school was brand new, up to date with modern facilities, including indoor toilets – something the previous school sadly lacked. We were also divided up into smaller classes of about 30 children, whereas before we were altogether in one classroom. We made bunting and learned dances and songs and we all had a union jack flag to wave on the day. During the weeks coming up to the Coronation, we came home with gifts galore, including a red propelling pencil and notebook, a book about the Queen, a cup and saucer with the Coronation details on it and a teaspoon. We also had our own (rough) notebooks which we had never had before. We felt we were the luckiest children in England. I can also remember dancing around the Maypole, but only once as I think we enjoyed getting tangled up too much!

On the day of the Coronation we all had a day off and we had a street party. There were about 40 children over the age of 5, the younger ones were accompanied by their mothers. I had never, in my entire life, seen so much food, how the ladies prepared it, I shall never know, but children don’t think about that when an array of “specials” is on the table. I think a lot of the supplies were donated by the American base which was close by; as we tasted “Candy bars” for the first time. The food consisted of jelly and blancmange, lots of tinned fruit including mandarins and peaches. Fresh orange juice was on the table, with real straws to drink through. Sausage rolls and cheese straws and lots of fairy cakes of different styles, most with red, white and blue icing. Piles of sandwiches were demolished as quick as lightening – these were all white bread, containing a variety of fillings from cheese and jam to egg and cress, the mums really did us all proud – how with the meagre rations I don’t know.

About two weeks before the big event, there were roughly 12 of us girls from our street chosen to “perform” after the Coronation. We went through choreography for three songs:

  • She wears Red Feathers and a Hooly Hooly Skirt,
  • There’s a lovely lass, lives by a lovely stream and
  • Sisters.

I was chosen with a few others to sing “She wears Red Feathers” and were set to making our “costumes” which consisted of red crepe paper, red feathers and a hair band with red flowers sown onto it.

The order of Coronation Day was as follows – detailed as well as I remember:

Not sure how the coverage of the Coronation went, but it appeared to be broken down into three sections. Everyone was invited into our house as my father had won the Football Pools and bought a TV out of the winnings. I was not impressed – everything was in black and white and I expected to see the coach in gold that I had seen years before in the Coach House. Not only that the TV screen was only about 9 inches square so the picture was very small, I couldn’t see very much between people’s legs, so was more than pleased when we were allowed to start on the food. I don’t think my father was very impressed with my reaction.

When the TV coverage was finished, everyone piled out to eat what was left of the food. That didn’t take long! Then the girls got ready for the “entertainment”. By then it had started drizzling and by the time we came out, singing our hearts out, with the choreography to match, it was pouring down. My mother was going slightly ballistic. I couldn’t understand why, as the rain was mushing our costumes which were only paper, but of course, the red dye was all over us. It wasn’t until I recently spoke to a friend who was at this “do” and she told me she was frozen, so our mothers had insisted that we kept our liberty bodices and vests on (along with our long legged brown drawers with pockets in). Imagine the sight, sexy south sea maidens in pretty red spliced skirts and bikinis with liberty bodices, vests and brown knickers underneath, all turning red with the dye out of the crepe paper.

I got used to the black and white TV, although we were only allowed to watch Andy Pandy and Muffin the Mule and a bit later on The Flower Pot Men, I was immensely proud of my father for getting the TV, although I heard later that my friend’s father had gone to see it and came back saying he wouldn’t be buying anything like that – far too small, “I will buy a 12 one“. Apparently he did this, but it took him two years to save up as it was very expensive. Personally, I preferred listening to the radio, they had special children’s programmes: Dick Barton – Special Agent and Journey into Space were two I used to try not to miss. Also, on Sundays, after a church service, there was Family Favourites which was a programme mainly for servicemen overseas – where special requests were played for them. This was followed by Billy Cotton’s Band Show, Life with the Lyons and Archie Andrews or other comedy programmes – good family listening.

Sadly, I have not managed to see “live” on TV, or attend any special Royal Event since, always otherwise occupied, but I hope to see all of the King Charles Coronation and shall stay by the TV and record as much as I can as it is well deserved, he has been a splendid “King in Waiting” and I hope he manages a long and happy reign with his Queen Camilla.

Granny Smith

Engaging with Christ’s Passion

sheumais Pastoral Letter, Reflections
Festividad de San José – Triana

As many of you know, Anna and I have just returned from a break in Andalusia in southern Spain. We arrived in Triana, a small village in the hills, on the day that they were celebrating the Festividad de San José (the festival of St Joseph) sensibly transferred to Saturday so that everyone could enjoy a good party then a four hour procession and then another party (all this of course after starting with a Festal Mass at 12 noon).

According to those in the know, there are such events regularly in towns and villages around the region mark particular saints’ days but of course everywhere has a full programme of events to mark Semana Santa (Holy Week). In Velez-Malaga (the nearest large town to where we were) the celebration of Semana Santa is recognised as one of the most impressive in the whole of Spain.

Along with everything you would expect of a fiesta (including amazing food and drink), there are processions, much like the one we witnessed in Triana, which become ever more grand throughout the week – starting on Palm Sunday and culminating with the Resurrection procession on Easter Day. The processions are accompanied by bands with crowds carrying candles. There are also huge floats (tronos) weighing up to 5,000kg, carried by large numbers of people, that depict scenes from the events in the week leading to Christ’s death and Resurrection.

Good Friday trono – Malaga

From time to time the crowd are become silence and the procession pauses while a saeta is sung. A saeta is an acoustic religious song (often in Flamenco style) sung from a balcony accompanied by wonderful guitar playing. After the saeta, the band start up again and theprocession moves forward. These processions seem to be able to blend celebration with sombre reflection and at the same time are also incredibly beautiful and moving.

This year along with other local churches we are once again holding a Walk of Witness from Kincardine Church in Ardgay to Creich Church in Bonar Bridge. There will be no huge tronos (just a rough wooden cross carried by one person), nor a band (just the voices of the pilgrims), but just like the people of Velez we will be marking the events of Christ’s last week, in Scripture, in prayer and in song (though maybe not in a flamenco style), as we pause from time to time along the road. When we arrive at Creich Church we will also be ‘partying’ with hot cross buns and coffee!! You are all of course welcome to join us and to bring your friends (we start at Kincardine Church in Ardgay at 10:15am).

Walk of Witness – Ardgay/Bonar

It is interesting to experience and reflect on how different cultures mark the milestones of our faith. We all start with the triumphant entry of Jesus into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday and throughout Holy Week we engage with a number of important events as we reflect on our faith and on the life of Christ, before finally emerging blinking into the light of Easter. Although the Resurrection is a fundamental part of our Christian belief, there can be no Resurrection without all that precedes it, including of course the brutal execution. Conversely without the Resurrection, Jesus was just a good man who was unjustly put to death in a brutal, inhumane and horrendous manner – something that sadly happens daily around the world.

I would therefore encourage you all to engage with some of the events and services during Holy Week – Stations of the Cross in Dornoch on Monday or Tain on Wednesday, our service in Dornoch on Maundy Thursday with its reliving of Jesus washing the feet of his disciples, sharing the last supper with them and then retiring to the Garden of Gethsemane to pray and our moving reading of the Passion from John’s Gospel in our service of Tenebrae or Walk of Witness on Good Friday all tell the story of what happens between Palm Sunday and Easter Day and help us to really understand what our faith is about.

Blessings
James

procession costumes – Velez-Malaga

The Ruined Chapel

sheumais Reflections

By the shore, a plot of ground
Clips a ruined chapel round,
Buttressed with a grassy mound;
    Where Day and Night and Day go by
And bring no touch of human sound.

Washing of the lonely seas,
Shaking of the guardian trees,
Piping of the salted breeze;
    Day and Night and Day go by
To the endless tune of these.

Or when, as winds and waters keep
A hush more dead than any sleep,
Still morns to stiller evenings creep,
    And Day and Night and Day go by;
Here the silence is most deep.

The empty ruins, lapsed again
Into Nature’s wide domain,
Sow themselves with seed and grain
    As Day and Night and Day go by;
And hoard June’s sun and April’s rain.

Here fresh funeral tears were shed;
Now the graves are also dead;
And suckers from the ash-tree spread,
    While Day and Night and Day go by;
And stars move calmly overhead.

William Allingham 1824-1889

Who are you?

sheumais Pastoral Letter, Reflections

For the whole of March we are in Lent, when we should be reflecting on our relationship with God and each other and striving for spiritual growth and improving those relationships.

In his writings on Belovedness, Henri Nouwen asks each of us the question “Who is the person that lives this little life?” He then identifies three of the most common answers to the question “who are you?” These answers aren’t always explicit, but let’s examine what’s implied by them.

“I am what I do” – I am my job, my role, my position. But when I retire or step down from a role or position, all that is lost and who I am becomes indeterminate, my very sense of myself is threatened.

“I am what I have.” – I am my education or qualifications, my stuff, my relationships, my looks, my health. If any of what I have is lost or can’t be achieved then who I am is called into question, my very sense of myself is threatened.

“I am what other people say about me.” – I am what other people think of me, say about me, respect in me admire in me. If others say good things about me, I feel good. If they say bad things, then I enter a dark place and my very sense of myself is threatened.

Anything familiar here? A response to “who am I” with “I am what I do”, “I am what I have” or “I am what other people say about me” is a response rooted in vice. In a nutshell these are the three temptations that Jesus faced in the wilderness. Turn stone into bread – define yourself by what you have. Jump off the pinnacle of the temple to wow the crowd – define yourself by what people say about you. Become the ruler of the world – define yourself by what you do. 

“I am what I have” exposes us to the sin and vice of lust. It’s the desire for more and more. “I am what other people say about me” exposes us to the sin and vice of anger. It’s living with a high sensitivity to how others regard you, which leads to great inward and outward anger when others disregard or disrespect you. “I am what I do” exposes us to the sin and vice of pride. It’s the desire to be important, to have power over others. Nouwen points out that anger, pride and lust are the three vices that have been identified since the early church as the enemies of a spiritual life, barriers to experiencing and sharing the love of God.

So if I am not what I do, what I have or what people say about me, who am I? Here’s what Henri Nouwen says:

“I come, Jesus says, to reveal to you who you truly are. And who are you? You are a child of God. You are the one who I call my child. You are my son, you are my daughter, you are my beloved.”

Henri Nouwen “Here and Now: Living in the Spirit”

We would all do well to remember that as we journey through Lent. 

Blessings
James

A Sad Anniversary

sheumais Notices, Reflections

You probably don’t need any reminder that today marks the anniversary of the invasion of Ukraine by Vladimir Putin’s Russian forces.  We have offered prayer and lit candles for the people of Ukraine over the past year and will continue to do so until this wasteful war comes to an end and the people of Ukraine in exile can return and all citizens can live without the threat of bombs and the fear of what the invaders may do.

Lord of all the earth,
be present with the people of Ukraine
at this time of danger, fear, and conflict.
Grant that wise and peaceable counsels may yet prevail,
and give to all suffering nations
the freedom they desire and deserve.
We ask this through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen.

Holy God,
We hold before you all who live close to war and conflict;
and all who live close to the threat of war and violence.
We remember especially at this time, people in Ukraine and Russia.
We pray for nonviolence and peaceful resolutions of conflict.
Give us hearts of hospitality and sanctuary,
forgive us all our hostility and hatred.
Bring all people to the humanity you give us,
and to the reconciliation and healing for which you gave your life.
Strengthen us all to work with you to build justice and peace,
reconciliation and healing,
in our hearts and homes, in our streets,
in all communities, neighbourhoods and nations.
Bless all who live lives for the peace and wellbeing of others,
and make their service fruitful.
In the name of Christ.
Amen.

Reflection on Disaster and Tragedy

sheumais Reflections
A Japanese Coastal Village after the 2011 Earthquake and Tsunami

In the past few months, we’ve seen and heard of events that have at times been quite difficult to take in. Major floods in Pakistan and Afghanistan, torrential rains in India and Nigeria, and recently: two major earthquakes in the Middle East.

The stories and images coming out of Turkey and Syria are devastating. In the aftermath of an earthquake of 7.8 on the Richter scale in southern Turkey and Northern Syria, buildings have been flattened, and many homes have been reduced to rubble. The death toll is already well on the way to 30,000 and in the days and weeks ahead, it’s expected to climb much higher.

Such disasters are bound to cause us to wonder ‘where God is in such things?’ So this is a good time to consider the gifts that God gives to help us in the difficulties of life and especially when our worlds are quite literally turned upside down.

Many people who’ve undergone adversity, experience a new sense of belonging to each other. There’s a remarkable sense of bonding between people who’ve experienced a particular disaster and who may’ve narrowly escaped death. There may be also a sense of guilt at having survived when friends and loved ones haven’t. God can give us the gift of a new sense of belonging and closeness to each other and also to God Himself.

Often, people deal with disaster by clinging to hope, expressed in phrases such as, “We’ll get through this together.” Such statements may be made through gritted teeth, in the anguish of physical and emotional pain. However, Hope has nothing to do with wishful thinking. Hope is the gift of openness to an unseen or unimagined future. It can keep us going, even when we can’t live and act in the ways we might normally be able to. The timing of the Japanese Earthquake and Tsunami in March 2011, just before the start of the Cherry Blossom season (the Sakura season) was very important in providing hope.

A crucial gift in God’s enabling is patience. It’s hope that enables waiting patiently for what is yet to be. Those of us, who can live active lives are accustomed to being more of less competent in what we do and can find patient waiting very difficult. Patience is the slow but definite practice of hope. It’s an active and loving holding on, perhaps without any other purpose than simply remaining; it’s “being” in the here and now.

With time, however, God also gives healing. It’s remarkable how there’s so a close relationship between time and healing. With time, we discover that in fact all along healing’s been taking place. There’s healing in the very nature of things, and of course there’s also the active work of healers, agents of God.

Experiences of suffering and distress are often also times of learning. Pain’s a great teacher. Many people say that’s at such times they learned the most valuable lessons of life. In particular, the value of things. That the things for which we spend so much time, money, and effort are worth almost nothing. When one’s experienced the loss of everything, all of one’s clothes and possessions swept away by an earthquake, tsunami, flooding or whatever, what remains is life itself, one’s family, and one’s relationship with God. In times of pain, illness and patient waiting, people come to reflect on the meaning of their lives, work, and priorities.

Flowing from these gifts, it’s both interesting and deeply moving to see something else emerge. In many contexts of disaster and distress, we see the depth of human caring. Those in ministry and in the caring professions often find that people in deep grief or pain reach out in concern for others. They want to be assured that some other person is being cared for. We may marvel at that, but it can be seen as a gift emerging from the very nature of our humanity. Our pain doesn’t destroy our better selves but rather brings them to the surface. Even as he suffered, Jesus prayed for those who crucified him. From the cross, he urged John to care for his mother.

Finally, the Suffering God enables faith. This isn’t a pre-condition of the other gifts. Rather, faith may be implied in those other gifts, but neither recognized nor acknowledged. Many people in their anguish call out to God, sometimes in accusing ways, just read the Psalms for examples. Sometimes, people, who say they don’t believe in God, call out to God. In contrast many, who’ve said they believe, find they can’t call out to God. Perhaps they imagined that their faith in God would mean that nothing like this could ever happen to them.

Faith emerges as the quiet, sometimes unrecognized gift that simply keeps us going. Faith isn’t the absence of struggle and doubt. Faith insists on dealing with the truth, with reality, with life and relationship; and through that keeping-on going, faith emerges in new forms.

It may be a new quality of prayer, or a new dimension of care, or a new commitment to reach out to those less fortunate. Such faith eventually finds its voice, to speak truth in the face of easy solutions or cheap grace. It speaks of the suffering God, who can and does help us in our hour of need.

The philosopher Charles Taylor has said that we must learn to understand what it means to have faith in our world. A world that isn’t a machine, controlled by a master manipulator of the levers. No, our task is to understand what it means to be with God and God with us, in a far less controlled, less predictable, but nonetheless, created world. In such a world, we must learn the meaning of belonging. We must learn to respect the earth, as many indigenous cultures have done since time immemorial and stop thinking that we can control everything for our own benefit.

We must learn also that the world isn’t just “our environment” but is rather the context in which we live with God. In so doing, we must learn see what God is doing in the world, and learn to live with and work with that, towards the unity with God seeks and the fulfilment of creation, in which all things come to their rest, in peace and harmony with God.

Our task, then, is to learn to see what God’s doing towards that redemption and to join God. That’s our theological and practical task—and what a privilege it is to be involved with God and God’s people in this way.

Amen.

Unity not Uniformity

sheumais Pastoral Letter, Reflections

The Week of Prayer for Christian Unity ended on Wednesday. During the week, in many places, there were services where Christians from different denominations joined together to celebrate what they have in common, laying aside those things that divide them. Now, I’d be fairly certain that if any of us were to spell out the difference between our denomination and one of the others we’d make a reasonable job of describing the essential character of our own, but a less good job of the other. Such has been the case throughout Christian history. But these considerations don’t just apply to Christians or to religions, they apply whatever ‘groups’ or ‘tribes’ we belong to and the difference they have to other similar ‘groups’ or ‘tribes’.

Anna and I lived for 25 years in the West of Scotland, in Ayrshire, where sectarianism is still alive and well and where even today the chances of getting some jobs may depend on your denomination, which might be revealed simply by the name of the school you attended. But I’m not sure that sectarianism’s actually got anything to do with religion, with denomination or with belief. It’s more about prejudice and prejudice often arising from ignorance of the ‘others’.

What we seem to be missing in our increasingly polarised culture is a shared humanity. That person who you or I are yelling at (literally or metaphorically), who has a different political, social or religious opinion than us, they’re actually human too, and you or I are no better or worse than them.

When we can learn to admit that we’re not perfect, that we make mistakes all the time and that we constantly change and evolve our opinions and beliefs … then we can begin to have more compassion for ourselves and begin to see ourselves as someone that’s lovable and worthy of grace and compassion, even though we’re not perfect and not living up to our own ideals. At that point we begin to see others, with differing views or opinions, with that same grace and compassion, no matter how different they are or how many mistakes they’ve made. Why? Because we realise that they’re a person, just like us, with hopes and fears, struggling to do the best they can with the resources that they have, the situation that they find themselves in and what they believe to be true.

Irene Butter, who as a child survived not one, but two holocaust concentration camps, perfectly summarizes these ideas in a single sentence: “Enemies are people who’s story you haven’t heard, or who’s face you haven’t seen.” We need to remind ourselves of this whenever we come across another person who doesn’t see the world in exactly the same way that we do.

St Paul reminds us that human standards of judgment count for nothing in God’s eyes. The human standards that say for instance: that my way of being a Christian is better than your way, that my way of worship is better than yours. The scandal of the cross is that God chooses vulnerability, weakness, suffering, and death in order to bring new life. God places the greatest value on our service to others, even when service may mean suffering and rejection. In Christ we’re a new creation, even in (or perhaps because of) our weakness and vulnerability.

It great to hear people talking about unity, so long as they don’t mean simply that “we can all be united if you come over to my way of thinking”. That’s akin to my suggesting that the solution to Christian disunity is for them all to become Episcopalians – and you know what, I don’t think that would solve anything. We like most denominations can’t even agree amongst ourselves!

The key to the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity is the word ‘Prayer’. Unity is something that we should fervently pray for, we might never achieve it, but that doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t try, remembering that Unity isn’t Uniformity!!

Blessings
James