Topic: Prayer and Worship

What a wonderful moment this morning, as the children of the Junior Church (and others) presented the Nativity story in such an attractive and moving way!  The angels were marvellous, the shepherds funny; the kings were majestic and Mary was superb.  And so on…. each part worked so well, and I felt myself more and more moved by the whole presentation.  I enjoyed seeing others enjoying what they were doing.  Moreover, the whole cast supported and encouraged others: a few, sadly, were sick – so others took on their part.  The older children helped the younger ones – microphones were shared – positive smiles helped it all along.  And then the music ….. wow!  From the small youth orchestra before the service – to Cadenza singing as superbly as I have ever heard them – to the traditional rendition of Sleigh Ride, with whip, glockenspiel, horse’s hooves, percussion and organ.  And all this was no mere “performance” – it was a presentation of the story that claims our lives.  This story makes us what we are, and demands our allegiance.  I am so happy to give my best in service of a God who makes this sort of morning happen.

And then there were the unexpected moments.  Two stand out to me.  One angel was so happy being “on stage” that she kept waving to her parents.  It might be thought that this is the wrong thing to do – but she seemed so immersed in what she was doing that it felt totally natural.  We all know that, at times, we need and like acknowledgement: this angel simply wanted Mum and Dad to wave back – they did – and it made her day. Simple unalloyed pleasure!
Then there was the moment that one young boy (not in the cast) wanted to walk around the “stage”.  Who were we to prevent that?  He had the confidence to do what he wanted – and walked around and around, not bothering what others thought or felt.  I am so delighted that children feel at home in our church.  Of course, sometimes they need guidance about what behaviour is appropriate.  But we can be too constrained into doing the right thing – rather than behaving “naturally”.  This lad didn’t disturb anyone.  His promenade added to the easy-going nature of the whole service.

This parish is so fortunate that, in Junior Church, Pippa Mitchell and Claire Palles Clark set such a tone of encouragement, support and acceptance.  Jane Vlach led the service serenely.  And I felt God’s presence hovering around nearby.

Thank you.

There are two well-known phrases that do NOT occur in a wedding service.  According to the Prayer Book (modern or old) the priest does not say “you may now kiss the bride”.  Yet, I found myself saying that phrase on Friday in St Mary’s – solely because the groom had asked me at the rehearsal to do precisely that.  And, secondly, the couple do not say “I do”.  Though that simple sentence occurs in many films, the words the couple are meant to say are “I will”.

The vows are a declaration of their will – not merely a description of what they plan to do. Loving, comforting, honouring, protecting and being faithful are not merely 5 items to put on your list for “what I would like to do this weekend”.  They are rather things that will shape your behaviour and attitude.  Fulfilling your marriage vows only happens if you bring all your energy, intention, thoughtfulness and compassion to bear.  That’s what makes the vow a declaration of your will.  I hear echoes of this in the words from Jesus (borrowed from the Old Testament) where he affirms the commandment to love God with all your heart, mind, soul and strength.  

 But we should not downplay too much what we actually do – the road to Hell being paved with good intentions.  Certainly, the Jewish tradition is much stronger on recognising that actions are the way we display our faith, our hope, and our belief.  I was reminded of this on Sunday morning at the early service when the Gospel reading was the parable of the Good Samaritan.  The lawyer asks “what shall I do to inherit eternal life?”  And Jesus concludes, after the parable, “Go and do the same”.  William Blake’s words about the importance of loving ‘in minute particulars’ come to mind.  We fulfil our vows of commitment by daily doing simple actions, even if they need to be recognised as flowing from a deeper source.

So, on Friday afternoon, the newly married husband did something embarassing in front of the congregation of 130 cheering and applauding friends.  Perhaps he was right to ask me (silently) “What shall I do?”  And perhaps I was right to say “You may/will now kiss the bride”.

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.

“Don’t worry.  You never forget how to do it.  It’s like riding a bicycle” he said, as he pushed the punt away from the bank.  I was with Hilary, taking Michael away from his studies for a day, just before his exams.  I have not punted for 30 years, so my confidence was low.  Is this really a skill that you never forget?  He pushed the punt into the stream just below the weir (so the water was choppy), and there were other punts under the “control” of Japanese tourists, and there was a low bridge only 20 yards away.  A recipe for disaster (or, a soaking).

But he was right.  One or two quick strokes and we were clear of danger, gliding gracefully along the river.  How does the body remember such things?  Surely there are some skills we forget; but there are others – like riding a bike – which seem permanent, once learnt.

So, as I punted, I pondered: what spiritual skills are important to develop in a way that, once learnt, we will never forget?

As a teenager, I belonged to a Church that taught that daily Bible reading was the essential skill and duty for a Christian.  Though I treasure the Bible, and though I use it routinely at Morning Prayer, having a daily 10 minute “Quiet Time” reading the Bible in a methodical way has never been a habit that has lasted long for me.  That sort of activity is too much of an “ought” and is not in my spiritual DNA.

“Mindfulness” is a skill (and then an attitude) that is about living each day aware of God.  I don’t mean this involves thinking about God 24/7.  Rather mindfulness is a way of spiritual attentiveness and reflectiveness: it means that when we make moral decisions, or when we are sitting in the sun in the garden, or as we enjoy time with friends, or while we are at our daily work, we are aware that we are in God’s world, blessed by God with talents and opportunities, and able to make choices that can be affected by our knowledge of God.  Once embedded in our soul, mindfulness is likely to last.  Busyness or tragedy can swamp it for a while.  But once we truly know that we have come from God, and are going back to God, we will never quite be the same again.

Perhaps that’s why I like the prayer, attributed to Sir Jacob Astley, which he prayed just before the start of the Battle of Edgehill: “God, you know how busy I will be today; if I forget thee, do not thou forget me”.  We may rightly concentrate on things other than God for a while.  But, in the end, we will not forget God, as God will never forget us.