Rector's blog

Psalm 11.3 says “ If the foundations are destroyed, what can the righteous do?”  This quote was much in my mind during this week of turmoil with riots throughout the country.  How hard it can be to do good – even, to want to do good – when all around you is uncertainty, anxiety and fear.  Actually, I had remembered the quote to be “if the foundations are shaken....” because Paul Tillich wrote a famous theological book in the early 1960s under the title “The shaking of the foundations”.  Tillich was exploring the radical change in culture, both within the Church and society, in that era; and he too noted that radical upheaval, though sometimes necessary, can demotivate people from doing good.  We need a base and framework within which good makes sense.

 

But I must not get carried away, as though the whole country was going up in flames.  Headlines proclaiming “Broken Britain” exaggerate.  There were many parts of the country at peace.  One reason that this news was so shocking was that it came out of the blue, and is not typical of what the vast majority experience in Britain all the time.  August is the silly season for the media so any story is likely to be blown up our of proportion.  When tragedy of any sort strikes, one thing demanded of leaders is to keep a sense of proportion.  As someone who is familiar with the level of insecurity in South Africa, I say that we need to recognise that this is a remarkably peaceful and safe country in which to live.

 

Perhaps a few obvious things need nevertheless to be stated:

 

• There is no point in criticising the operations of the Police in public.  Senior politicians are intimately connected with the Police in many ways.  Quick blame is unworthy self-defence.  After all politicians are responsible for strategic oversight as well as police funding.  Everyone was caught on the hop with the speed of these riots.  Respect must be shown for those who protect our safety .  Challenging questions can be asked – but later.

   

• There is no point in telling off the rioters.  There is point in naming behaviour as bad and criminal.  Our Christian tradition has the phrase “hate the sin, love the sinner”.  This can be used too simplistically; however, it is absolutely right to condemn criminal behaviour as well as seeking to understand root causes.  Any leader must be sufficiently big-hearted and big-minded to do these two (slightly different) things at the same time. 

   

• There is no point in wringing our hands with angst from our fortunate position of safety.  We can put our energy into helping (as many who live close to the riots seem to have done); we can admire the bereaved father for his words of private grief and wish for public calm.  We can ensure that we do what we can here in Guildford: the YMCA is hosting times of prayer for Street Angels as well as the Police throughout August – we can join in that.  Or we can do whatever small bits of networking and normal neighbourly kindness that come our way – anything that displays a positive attitude towards bridge-building, and commitment to growing mutual esteem.

   

Beyond these generalities, I was impressed with the speech given by the Archbishop of Canterbury in the House of Lords where he queried the tendency of our education system to manufacture qualifications rather than form character and virtue.  These comments are wise but are about giving long-term direction (rather than short term guidance on how to deal with riots).  One of the shocking aspects of the riots was to see people caught up in them who could be expected not to countenance such behaviour.  Let me borrow an image from the Harry Potter novels where Harry possesses an Invisibility Cloak.  If you had such a thing, and could get away with any crime that you wanted to, what would you do?  Character is about having a sufficiently secure inner moral compass that bad behaviour is avoided because you immediately and clearly recognise that such behaviour damages you as well as other victims.  Character is not only about knowing the right direction but taking it.  Character requires us to be guided by our moral compass even when external factors sway us to other directions.

 

There is something about these riots that shows an unpleasant side of our culture.  We live among such a pressure to shop and spend.  I am on holiday at the moment in the countryside where I try to ensure that the fridge is full enough so that I do not have to go near shops for at least 3 days at a time.  It is amazing how pleasant that feels – and also how unusual.  We are so used to spending money that we can get sucked in to feeling that it is a natural activity.  How hard it must be to live in an urban environment where you are faced with shops day in and day out, yet are never likely to have the resources to join in (and spend money in such shops).  This does not excuse the looters.  But their bad behaviour is indicative of a wider sickness.  The sub-prime mortgage situation which has done such damage to the whole world economy cannot solely be blamed on those who took out such mortgages.  I just wonder whether an extended period of slow growth in the worldwide economy will actually give us all an opportunity to realign some of our values.

 

Finally, there is a tradition within our faith that acknowledges and accepts that there are brief moments when it is OK for all to let off steam, to laugh at the Emperor, to anoint a serving boy as Bishop for a day and have a meal served by the Lord instead.  In part, this is what Carnival (the few days just before Lent) are about.  I am very saddened that these riots happened, and it is a tragedy that lives were lost and livelihoods wrecked.  Criminals must be taken to court, not punished beyond what is the norm.  If people cannot let off steam (and partly shout “something is rotten in the state of England”), then even worse trouble may be ahead.  After Carnival comes Lent, a time for re-establishing what good behaviour is about and nurturing our commitment to uphold it.

 

 

Before we baptise a child at Holy Trinity or St Mary’s, the priest who will lead the service, visits the family at home.  As we do so, we are building friendships, explaining some of what will happen in the service and, most importantly, exploring the meaning that this Baptism will have for all involved.  Helping identify and articulate what is significant about this moment is very important.  It might be about the longed-for first child; it might be about welcoming into the wider family; it might be about starting off the child’s upbringing in a thoughtful and positive way; it nearly always includes acknowledging that there are standards of good and bad behaviour that parents want children to understand and take on (eventually) as their own. All this will be done within the context of prayer, thanksgiving and worship.

For years, I have felt comfortable with this approach combining a mix of affirmation, teaching and exploration.  But I have had a nagging feeling that the role of godparents is not well understood.  What is expected of godparents by the Church, the parents or, indeed, themselves?

So I am delighted, through running recently the course called “Torchbearers” at St Mary’s, to have at last had the chance to discuss this.  We had a good conversation, sharing our experiences and accepting that most of us did not really understand what we should/could be doing as godparents.  I have condensed the conversation into a letter which I hope to use with Baptism families in the future.

But I would value more comments, suggestions or wisdom.  How about reading the draft which is on our website, under services, then under “Baptism, weddings and funerals”?  Then let me have your reaction.

Godparents accept responsibilities on behalf of the godchild.  In some ways, in our secular age (and without taking anything away from the formal responsibilities of godparents), maybe the local parish congregation also take on some responsibilities for children brought for baptism.  We are here to pray for them, to support the parents, and to welcome all into the life of worship and friendships.  We have a role to play.  See if you can help us with this.

 

 

There’s theory; and there is practice.  We all know which, when the going gets tough, is more important.

So, I wrote a few days ago an article for the Bible Journal (to be published this weekend) about how to pray with the psalms.  One of my suggestions is to be familiar with verses from, say, 10 different psalms so that they can be comfort or guides in tricky situations.  Lo and behold, yesterday (which was not a good day) I needed just this.  I experienced “for the waters have come up to my neck” – and it would have helped to know the reference for this quotation.  Is it Shakespeare? No, it is Psalm 69.1

Reading the first 3 verses of Psalm 69 was a help, for it mixes the images of what it feels like when everything is going dangerously awry: drowning, sinking, crying, being thirsty, being unable to see.  On a really “bad hair day”, it will often feel as though all the wheels are coming off the wagon.  Psalm 69 shows you are not alone in having been in such a position – and indeed that we can still pray on such a day: “Save me, O God”.

Another image I value on such a day is that of being against the grain of the universe.  Tuesday began badly, and every time I tried to make it better, things went awry – messages going astray, people turning up late, me turning up late, my computer going on strike (surprise, surprise) – no one’s fault, just a cross-grained day.  And I find it takes courage and composure (even, faith) to remain calm, and not indulge in paranoia.

And one way of doing that is to remember that others have been there before: hence, the value of Psalm 69.1 “Save me, O God, for the waters have come up to my neck”.

I am saying this not because I want to let you know that my life is particularly hard, but partly because I am aware how tough it is for others just now.  The psalms encourage us to be empathetic, to walk in one another’s shoes, to share sorrows and joys.  So even if the sun is shining warmly on you today, Psalm 69 can still guide your prayers.

 

 

Oh dear!  I made a mistake with my diary.  I thought the next Archbishops’ Council meeting was on June 17^th, instead (as it happened to be) on June 7^th.  Fortunately I was able to attend by simply missing half a day of my retreat.  Still, with a chance to pray before I went to London, and 5 hours’ stillness at the Retreat House after I returned, it all fitted in OK.  In fact, it was rather good to attend a meeting which I didn’t have to chair, and is full of highly intelligent, motivated people.  Quite relaxing really!

That said, I am struggling with the language used at the Council in a number of its decision-making moments.  The jargon is frequently ‘not inputs but outputs’, then ‘not outputs but outcomes’.  The oft-quoted example is that of the Police Force: more investment in policing is an input; more Bobbies on the street is an output; less crime is an outcome.  I wonder whether service organisations (and especially charities or voluntary bodies such as the church) have always concentrated more on inputs – perhaps because motivation matters so much (which is a marker of what you put in), whereas in businesses profits matter (which is an outcome).  I am trying to learn this language, but remain to be fully convinced that something is being missed.

Nevertheless, it was an energetic meeting. I am convinced, once again, of the good will and excellent quality of many of those I meet.  The Archbishop of Canterbury chairs superbly and we (generally) behave well towards each other.  So I found myself puzzling over two conflicting thoughts that seem irreconcilable.

On the one hand, we seem to be making good decisions that will direct resources to the right places, improve processes, increase efficiency, motivate clergy towards church growth and institute projects that will have an impact on local communities.  I find myself getting carried away at times. “Alleluia!  This is good” I feel.

And then, a few moments later, I wonder what the Church of England will look like in 2016 (5 years’ time, say).  In spite of all the good we are doing now, what evidence is there that the CofE 2016 will be “better” than the CofE 2011?  How can we hold together a positive attitude about current activity and a realisation that things are not always getting better and better?

Is it that we live in such a fast-moving world, and that the natural “slope” of life is so tilted towards decay that if we don’t run really quite fast we will certainly go downhill?

I am not depressed or maudling.  But I am puzzled.  Answers on a postcard, please.

 

 

 

 

 

I am going to St Mary’s convent in Wantage today, until Friday, on my annual retreat.  It feels good to be going back to somewhere that is very familiar to me as I do not have to learn the routine, but can slot into the habits of the house.  I also have long found it very helpful to be on retreat in a house where the prayer happens routinely around me, without relying on my contribution.  The sisters in Wantage will be singing the Daily Offices, whether I am praying with them or detained in my bed!  Yet I will also acknowledge that one of the great draws of this house as my centre for a Retreat is that it is close to marvellous walking countryside, especially by having the Ridgeway a couple of miles away.  This ancient track connects Avebury to the Thames, passing by many Stone Age monuments.  This evident history connects my soul to God – I feel I am in the presence of the life and energy of the world that is far beyond my (and our) existence.  Perhaps one of the things I seek on retreat is that feeling that the world can manage very well without me.  It’s a humbling experience to recognise that I do not matter all that much – but also energising: I am called to recognise more clearly those things that I am particularly required to do.Yet as I write this, I also realise that something very different may happen.  I cannot, and should not, plan what will happen this week.  Any retreat should be something of an exploration, a time of “wait and see”.