Topic: Community activities

There was a really good atmosphere at the Annual Parish Meeting held yesterday. There was a healthy buzz of conversation before, and people loitered around, chatting afterwards.  It’s always a good sign when people don’t immediately rush away. There were lively contributions from the floor, in particular when those standing for election to the PCC were invited to introduce themselves.  There was humour, and self-deprecating remarks – and the meeting applauded each person in turn (even before the elections).  Support, enthusiasm and encouragement were all shown.  I felt uplifted.

For me, the highlight came when Rogan Dixon, the Parish treasurer, took us through the accounts.  Now, in my estimation, “accountability” has gathered a rather bad name as a concept recently.  Sometimes, it is used as a route to blaming – it does not seem to matter who had the power to do something about XYZ, “YOU” (with a pointed finger) the accuser will say, “YOU are accountable”.  Sometimes, accountability is reduced to form-filling and box-ticking – the concept is reduced to a matter of following procedures rather than a giving of an honest explanation of what happened and why.  I think it was Onora O’Neill in her Reith Lectures of 2002 who began the philosophical assault on accountability when she identified that an over-emphasis on this was indicative of an underlying lack of trust within organizations and between groups in society.  For me, all this was in my mind as I listened to Rogan talking about the parish finances.

He did so with great grace.  He explained, described and analyzed – an indication of how well this was done was that no one asked questions afterwards.  It’s not that we were confused – rather the exact opposite.  Most importantly, Rogan gave us a narrative – he took us through in story form what we have done, what we were trying to do, and what we need to do now.  We were participants because he was telling us our own story (after all, it is our parish and not his nor the Rector’s).  This style also put finance at the service of parish priorities.  So often treasurers only seem interested in money.  But Rogan was essentially talking about what we are doing in the parish, and, as a secondary matter, how the finances ensure the delivery of those priorities.

Rogan would be the first to acknowledge that his role as treasurer is made so much easier by the active support of a great team from the Finance Committee (chaired by Geoff Cardinal), to the Parish Revenue Group (chaired by Simon Miller, with John Gillbe as the Planned Giving Recorder), to the collection counters (including Graham Morris, Guy Barnby and David Carle), and those helping in the Office (Lucy Harris, with Michele Lyon and Rebecca Cunningham).  To all these people, named and un-named, we are very grateful.

When I was a young curate being taught by my first vicar how to lead Marriage Preparation conversations, he told me “Get the couple to talk about money – if they can sort that out well, they can do everything else”.  We also had a therapist in the congregation who advised me “Get the couple to talk about sex – if they can do that well, they can do everything else”.  I have generally followed the first piece of advice.  That’s what we saw mutatis mutandis in action at the AGM, with the caveat that this was not all about money, it was essentially about the hope and the future of this parish.

I got in a bit of a muddle today.

Abbot’s Hospital hosts a Gaudy lunch each year for the residents and Governors.  It’s a lovely celebration of the life of this peaceful and compassionate community.  I lead a service of Holy Communion beforehand in the Chapel, and I was wondering what to say.

The word ‘Gaudy’ reminded me of ‘Gaudeamus igitur’, being translated ‘therefore let us rejoice’ – a suitable theme for today’s lunch.  I know that the tune to ‘Gaudeamus igitur’ is found in the closing bars of Brahms’ Academic Festival overture.  But I wanted to trace where the phrase came from; I was pretty sure it was from one of the psalms.  But, no!  It is the first line of an 18^th century drinking song.  Much as the theme of the song is suitable (“enjoy life”), I thought I had better look elsewhere.

As I was reading this page on Wikipedia, my eye was caught by another Latin phrase ‘Carpe diem’, meaning ‘Seize the day’. Now that’s quite similar to two phrases that float high above Guildford High Street: one on the clock at Holy Trinity – I can’t recall the exact words but it conveys ‘time is short, so make the most of it’.  The other is further down the High Street: ‘Lord, teach us to number our days’.  I know that is from the psalms, so I looked up ‘Carpe diem’ expecting it to be so too….. only to find that it is from Horace, the Latin poet.  He writes: seize the day, and never trust in tomorrow (hardly a good Christian sentiment).

In looking that up, I noticed Horace also wrote ‘Memento mori’: remember that you are going to die.  Now, that is hardly an encouraging thought, but at least it feels very seasonal.  That is because it is similar to the words that a priest uses on Ash Wednesday during the imposition of ashes: “remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return”.  This is not the priest being a misery-guts, but rather the words are meant to convey that, though our life begins and ends in dust, we can both enjoy and achieve a lot in between.  Focusing on that thought, I chose for the service in the Hospital the Gospel reading of Matthew 6 (the lilies of the fields), where Jesus urges us not to worry about tomorrow (what we will eat, drink or wear) but today to seek the Kingdom of God.

And it was that thought that reminded me of a phrase, not from the Bible, but from the teachings of the early Rabbis: “if not now, when?”  Indeed, Primo Levi wrote a book with that title.  The narrative is about a group of prisoners escaping from Nazi Germany to freedom.  But the message is: you can do good – if you choose not to do it now, when are you going to do it?

And it was that that I wanted to convey to my friends at Abbot’s Hospital: you can enjoy life, part of which is doing good to others – do it now – if not now, when?

Three moments from this weekend, all connected with “Lighting the way”:

1.      There was a fantastic concert on Saturday evening in Holy Trinity arranged by Nick Graham, involving Cadenza, the Parish Youth Choir, the Surrey Percussion Ensemble and associated friends.  About 100 people in the audience and 40 performers made this a memorable evening.  As someone whispered to me in the interval; “and they say that the youth of today are hopeless!”  It was a moment of great encouragement.  There is so evidently, among these young people, talent, commitment, enthusiasm, confidence and joy.  Take heart!

2.      On Sunday morning, we celebrated at St Mary’s the 60^th wedding anniversary of David and Jean Carle who have given so much to that place and the worshipping community based there.  David spoke briefly about it snowing on March 28^th 1951, as though it were yesterday.  Jean looked radiant.  Together they provided refreshments after the service.  The church was glowing.

3.      The service this morning at Holy Trinity for Mothering Sunday was “café-style” – coffee and buns before, and a real sense of gathering for worship (not only with family and friends, but with whomsoever you were sitting next to).  Jonathan led it brilliantly, drawing out from the congregation (very young, young, old and bus-pass carrying) wisdom, reflections and memories of Mothers.  For me, the most moving moment came when he invited the Parish Youth Choir and the HT Choir adults to come forward to the podium to sing the anthem.  All these choristers had been sitting (un-robed, so invisible) amongst us – and then, suddenly, there was a choir of 30 ready to sing.  It was a symbol for me of what I often need to recall: that what we most need has already been given to us by God, and is alongside us already, waiting to be recognized.

The anthem ‘Lighting the way’ was sung on Saturday evening and this morning at Holy Trinity, and is equally applicable to David and Jean.  The text marvelously reminds us that, as we walk with God, we light the way for each other.  That’s what I’ve seen in action this weekend.

I watched Comic Relief last night.  I have seldom done this before, but, being on the receiving end of the £1 million grant to the Bishop Simeon Trust, I felt I owed it to them to watch some of their programmes last night.  I was moved and impressed.  What did I see?

1. They said “Thank you”, time and time again. Each presenter, each TV personality whether in the studio or out in Africa, said “Thank you for your giving”.  That’s impressive.  I know because it’s hard to do it time after time, especially when you have a lot to say thanks for (for example, at an Annual Meeting).  But gratitude is not only deserved in such circumstances, it’s also a great motivator.  In the parish, I want to convey my thanks, clearly and warmly, whenever we are addressing our own parish finances.  You don’t give to the parish because of me, but I am the person who has to say “thank you”.  Whenever I say it, I mean it.  Without your giving this parish would quickly fade away.  What is so special is that you not only give, but you give for good reasons (beyond guilt or entertainment… which is one trap that Comic Relief programmes can fall into).  I am increasingly aware that the national Church has not yet found its voice in saying thanks in the right way for all the support that parishes give to “the centre”.  Perhaps that is one thing I can help develop while on the Archbishops’ Council.
   
   

    

2. They urged us to give, and give now.  Hesitation stops charity.  There are lots of good questions to ponder about our giving: will the money be wisely spent? Is it going to the right projects? What are they doing to help themselves?  With these questions and many more, our hearts can turn cold.  Just look at the Parable of the Good Samaritan.  I have always imagined that the two people who did not help the victim were well-intentioned, yet passed by on the other side while still pondering what they should do.
   
   

    

3. There was a brilliant immediate connection between your decision and other people’s lives.  ‘You give – people live’.  You give £10 and they will be able to buy 5 more Malaria testing kits.  It is as simple as that.  Now, you and I know that Comic Relief (as well as Bishop Simeon Trust) also have overheads and central costs that need to be met somehow.  But the fact remains: you give, others benefit.  Full stop.  That is also something I have tried to convey as I talk about our Parish Funding Programme.  Because you gave over the last couple of years, we have hired a youth worker, developed the Parish Youth Choir and choral scholarships for the Holy Trinity Choir, completed the ramp at Holy Trinity, and finished half of the urgent work at St Mary’s. You give, we thrive.  Once again, I see the lack of this message working at diocesan and national levels in the Church.  But that is true also within our nation.  Comic Relief raising £74 million based on programmes aired during one evening is a staggering feat.  Why can’t the Chancellor of the Exchequer do that? I want to pay my taxes, because I want to belong to a country that is safe and contributes to the world’s peace, that looks after its old people, the infirm and the needy … and many more examples…. Which takes me to my final observation:
   
   

    

4. There was such passion on view last night.  I have already spoken against “Poverty tourism”.  We must never manipulate and misuse the enthusiasm of others.  I have seen plenty of desperately needy people in South Africa.  I have been invited into their shacks, schools and clinics which are so basic compared with what we enjoy.  I must respect these lives and neither use nor abuse the welcome I have received.  Yet I can also be passionate about helping them.
   
   

    

I felt deeply moved by Comic Relief.  I wasn’t carried away (I’ll leave that to today when I watch the rugby), and I am aware there are difficult issues raised by any sort of international development aid.  But this works.  You give, others flourish.  That is as true overseas as it is when you give to this parish.

The Guildford Shakespeare Company’s production of Hamlet is magnificent.  Moreover, it is wonderful to hear how much people have enjoyed it.  The most obvious aspect is that we, the audience, are right there in the action.  You can see and feel, and almost touch the action and the actors.  Not only is that exciting, it’s also part of what the director wants to have us experience, I believe.  We are inside the action, not watching it unfold as neutral observers.  If King Claudius had asked me to deliver a message last night (when I saw the show), I think I would have saluted and done his bidding.

Yet, though this seems to imply that the staging and external context are of low importance, actually the setting within HolyTrinityChurch matters.  The GSC has once again used the location to excellent effect.  The Surrey Advertiser put it memorably: “HolyTrinityChurch – the 9^th actor in our production”.  So when Claudius prays in despair for forgiveness (facing the High Altar), or when the gravediggers unearth bones directly under the cross and below the gaze of God in majesty (the frescoes at the East End), the subtle un-stated message is clear – we live our lives sub specie aeternitatis.  This is what I was seeking to convey in my recent contribution to the Bible Journal: that Shakespeare, though very seldom explicit about his faith, writes about the human condition as it is worked out under the gaze of God.

You cannot have tragedy without a strong sense of morality.  What a beautiful way to finish this play with such a sense of closure (evil destroyed, the nation of Denmark redeemed) as darkness settles on the corpses but the golden glow in the East End suggests hope and a new dawn.

I am so grateful for those who brought GSC to our Church, and to GSC themselves for their wonderful artistic imagination.  Yes, I was anxious about this a few days ago – now, just dead chuffed!