Topic: Community activities

I was recently sent a list of Admonitions that had taken place at Abbot’s Hospital from 1627 to 1646.  It details those unfortunate events when a resident was sufficiently badly behaved that he/she was admonished and punished – and that this moment was recorded. It’s fascinating reading. Actually I was surprised how few incidents were listed, yet the detail is remarkably familiar: drunkenness, brawling, emptying his pisspot over the gates of the Hospital, swearing, and “too much haunting of ale houses”.  Not much changes, though there was a case of “coming into the chapel twice at evening prayer, making acclamation there in a very unseemly way”!

Yet the case of John Tegg is pitiable.  He was found drunk and fined.  Then he was found trying to hang himself.  Tegg was found by a fellow resident, cut down and survived – but for this he was punished as attempting suicide was reckoned to be a bad offence.  Poor Tegg.

We would not treat such a man in that way now, recognizing that, if someone is in a sufficiently awful mood to attempt suicide, that person needs help not punishment.  More often than not, the help that is needed is medical, psychological, practical and communal.  If we get into a really dark place emotionally, then there will not be full healing without checking the body (we can suffer chemical imbalance, for example, that is beyond our control), soothing the soul (memories will need to be healed), alleviating need (poverty and unemployment can be powerful movers towards the spiral of despair), and ensuring that those closest to the sufferer are helped too.  When one person is afflicted by deep depression, the dreadful situation can affect a whole family/group.

In the light of that, I hope that we would not punish a modern day Tegg in the same way that they did in the 17^th century.  But I wonder whether the offer of some help and support (though needed and well intentioned) can, in an unintended way, diminish the sense of a person’s responsibility.  Help must be offered; alongside that, and as part of that help, it is good to strengthen resolve, holding clearly in front of the sufferer the responsibility they have and the choices (however limited) that they can make.  This is not meant to sound hard hearted.  Rather it is rooted in honouring the sufferer, and declaring that, however awful the situation, they are still valued as a “child of God” who can make choices for their own good and the good of others.

We should not punish a man like Tegg, nor do we merely tell him to pull himself together.  But neither must our readiness to help diminish their value, their self-esteem, and their power to act.

Last year it worked.  Guildford Shakespeare Company took over HolyTrinityChurch for three weeks for a memorable production of Romeo and Juliet.  The staging was beautiful; the theme of love overcoming adversity found great resonance with our faith; many people came to Holy Trinity that would not otherwise have done.  It was a success all round.

And now this year?  I have no reason to doubt that it will be different, but I am anxious nonetheless.  The play is Hamlet.  I have written an article for our Bible Journal (also published on the parish website) about one speech within the play that means a great deal to me, both as a lover of the theatre and as a priest.  So I have no worries that the drama will be inappropriate.

But I still am anxious that there will be complaints (‘letters to the Bishop’) about our using the church building in this way.  I can justify this use, not least because for all but some of the last 200 years that is how churches have been used: for plays, music, public meetings, education, courts….. Churches in England have for over 1000 years been the venue for Big Society.  Yet, in the Victorian age, they began to build church halls, and so civic society was increasingly distanced from church going.  The advantage to the church seemed to be that the sacred places could be kept more holy.  But for me, to call something sacred implies, NOT that we protect it, but that it has a depth and inescapable quality of “specialness” that can never be broken.  GK Chesterton said “We do not protect the Truth; the Truth protects us”.

Moreover, the sacred is attractive: people want to bring their experiences, their hopes and fears, into sacred spaces as there they will be blessed, honoured and transformed.  This Hamlet will be different for being acted inside our church.

I encourage you to see the play, and to relish Shakespeare’s magnificent words being presented in this majestic space.  Listen for what is new, because of the setting.

A short postscript to the previous Blog.

My friendly sports therapist, Rajah, has replied:  “Just for your information, once the tissue has calmed down and the pain nerves are not so irritated by the inflammation and the tissues have healed, you do want to encourage the muscle to behave normally.  Only work within the limits of pain.”

I am reminded of what Freud said: “My role is to cure people of their neuroses so that they can suffer from ordinary human unhappiness”.

Perhaps we should not seek to wrap ourselves in cotton wool.  Our vocation in this world is to “behave normally”, or “to suffer ordinary human unhappiness”.  This is not a cynical attitude but an honest recognition that we live in a fallen world, and that the glory to which we are called is not accessible without purification and transformation.  No resurrection without the cross!

Whilst running recently, I tweaked a muscle.  So I sought help from Rajah, who is a sports therapist with magical hands.  He may not like that description as he is a devout Christian.  So I will say rather that he has been richly blessed by God with the gift of X-ray hands.  When he massages me, he can see so clearly with his hands what the trouble is – he often can describe the problem better than I can feel it myself.  This is the physical equivalent of being in the company of a superb Spiritual Director, who knows, not by magic but under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, what to say and how to guide.

Anyway, Rajah said something in this visit that is profoundly true, both physically and spiritually.  It went something like this:

When you over-stretch, you can damage the neural pathways (a posh name for the nerves, I think).  As well as needing to be healed, the neural pathways need to be “switched off”.  The inflammation must be reduced, but the nerves must also stop working so actively.  For the nerves remember.  Once they are damaged, they are alert to send more warning signals, and so remain highly sensitive until told to “go to sleep again”.  Therefore more inflammation is always on the brink of breaking out unless the nerves are switched off.

This is true spiritually as well.  For example, a child who does not receive enough attention as he/she is growing up, may well suffer from low self-esteem.  When adult, this person can be healed by having good friends, a supportive partner and being surrounded by ordinary kindness.  AND, the memory of low self-esteem needs to be switched off.  Otherwise, it is so easy, upon the slightest evidence, to plummet into negative thoughts about oneself again.  In fact, the evidence can be minimal or even non-existent, yet such a person can still drop easily into depression.

So, as well as needing healing, this person needs the courage and confidence to move on – to switch off the mechanism that triggers the low thoughts.  Some of that involves an act of will: the person needs to decide to live differently.

In the same way, Rajah warned me not to test to see if the muscle was healed.  It was very tempting each day to stretch the muscle to see how well it was doing – but that would only keep this muscle on the look out for bad sensations.  By checking, I would keep the memory of the damage alive.

So there is real merit, spiritually and physically, in “forgive and forget”:  be healed, and move on.

I have found it hard at times to keep up with how teenagers use the English language.  Michael was often coming home from school using words with a new meaning.  “Wicked” he would say, meaning ‘really good’.  That usage is fairly familiar now.  As I began to come to terms with this, I started to enjoy (what is called) the plasticity of language.  After all both Cranmer and Shakespeare were inveterate inventors of new words: some worked, and became treasured parts of our heritage.  Some didn’t; Cranmer, for example, coined the words caroginous, crudell, and impunishment, none of which are much in use today.

There is one example I picked up from Michael that I use (at least, to myself) routinely now: “Score!”, describing, as you might guess, a moment when something goes brilliantly well.  Over the last two days, twice I’ve muttered to myself “Score!”

I was approached over the weekend with a tricky problem, something to do with pension changes in the Church’s scheme as it affects those close to retirement.  Why did they come to me?  Well, I am the Chair of the Clergy in this Diocese (a bit like the Shop Steward); and I am also the Chair of the national network of Clergy Chairs of all the Dioceses in England (a bit like Head Prefect).  The pension question was clearly causing some distress and it came to me because no one quite knew how to proceed.  Overnight on Sunday, I managed to send the right question to the right person and received a brilliant answer.  Everyone is relieved, and I muttered “Score!”

Then, on Monday evening, I was chairing the Management Committee for Addison Court.  As you may know, this is a Housing Association, established by the parish 40 years ago, with 30 residents, beautifully located near the Downs.  It provides secure accommodation for those of modest means, who require a simple and safe place to live.  The company is good; the House Managers work exceptionally well to deal with the property and take some of the burden off the residents.  In the middle of the meeting I asked, “What do we want to see at Addison Court in 10 years time?”  The range of responses was excellent: isn’t it good when a group energises each other to be practical and visionary at the same time!  

When it came to my turn to respond, I simply said “my hope is to keep going”.  That does not sound very inspiring or challenging, but what I was trying to convey was the value of maintaining such a House and community.  For 40 years, 30 residents have really benefited: difficulties have been managed, the residents have become something of a replacement family to each other, and the flats have been routinely renovated and improved.  That is not the stuff of headlines, but it is good.  In fact, if Addison Court flourishes for the next 10 years, that will be really good.  So when I articulated my vision for this place as “keep going”, the moment felt just perfect.

And I muttered under my breath “Score!”