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1st collector for A medieval portable altar containing holy relics
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1st collector for The religious power invested in objects
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(Sorry I think this video may only play in some regions, and for a limited period of time.)
I watched this film last night- a documentary tracing the journey through one and half millennia of religious objects, saints remains and art made out of body parts.
My personal favourite was a little silver case containing the eyeball of a Catholic priest hung drawn and quartered some time around the reformation in England. Body parts were parboiled and displayed around town- at which point some brave soul popped out an eye ball to save as a keepsake.
What I was less aware of was the fact that for hundreds of years, in order to celebrate mass, the relics of saints were required- contained in mini- altars and often invested with huge power and wealth. It was this trade in body parts and objects- from the thorn crown of Jesus and bits of the ‘true cross’. to fragments of bone and hair purported to be from saints old and new that was one of the targets of the Reformation.
Certainly, growing up in an Evangelical reformed tradition we found all such things ludicrous- idolatrous and heretical even. They were one of the more visible things that seperated us still from any close relationship with the Catholic tradition.
Of course- we had our own objects of sanctification- I remember in one church I belonged to there was a carved communion table, which was moved about three meters- leading to bloody revolt by some members of the congregation.
The power of the symbol, and the anchor that connection to people who have gone before us in faith- these things seem to me to be important still.
As I watched the programme I was amazed at the obvious power that the objects had over the presenter- and also on me. It was difficult to be cynical in the face of such obvious veneration.
Having said all that- like most of our religion- it clearly had the capacity to go badly wrong. All that mad trading, and competition to get the best objects. And the possibility that the objects become more important than the object of the objects.
There is a shorter clip of the opening of a mini altar and examination of some remains (including hair supposed to have belonged to St John) here. In fact- I will add this video as a different post, as it is quite something.
I do not believe that I have any right to doubt the devotion of people who made objects like these, or who worshiped around them. Whilst I might not seek to collect any bits of saints to give meaning to my faith- I do believe that my experience of God is enhanced by symbols- by spaces and by objects within them.
Michaela and I spent some time clearing out a room adjoining Williams room today- which was, and will become again, an en suite shower room. At present it is a junk room- boxes, off cuts of carpet, toys.
In the process of doing so we opened up three boxes that were still more or less unopened from when we moved into the house- 8 years ago. I am sure there is some kind of rule of thumb about throwing out anything that has lain unopened for so long.
But these boxes contained photographs- you remember those- rectangles of shiny paper with images on. What we used before we all had laptops and i phones and flash drives. Which, when you think about it, is not very long ago at all- we got our first digital camera (actually, Emily was the first in our family to have one) around 6-7 years ago. These days my camera is never very far away.
Nothing brings to you the passing of time like a box of old photographs of the life you have lived- the people you knew and the babies now grown.
I need to scan some- but for the moment, the picture above will have to do- my lovely Michaela and little Will taken about 9-10 years ago. During a different life- when we were English.
There were also photographs of this old house– before all the renovations we have undertaken. Why on earth did we buy it?
Photographs make me sad
They make me proud
They make me wistful
And they make me grateful
Aoradh spent tonight planning for some events we have up and coming- including our worship slot at Greenbelt Festival.
Greenbelt suddenly seems close, and we are still really at the ‘playing around with ideas’ stage. However, this is usually my favourite part of any project- the bit where you get to create things out of next to nothing- and how one idea sparks another, then another. The theme this year is ‘Dreams of home’- we are playing with some themes around the Feast of Tabernacles.
I am also doing some poetry with Proost– recorded and available on headsets around the site. I have not written that yet either! To be honest, I am a little worried about this- my poems tend to be so introspective and private- and these poems have to sit alongside those of two really great performance poets- European poetry slam champion Harry Baker and the equally brilliant Padraig O Tuama.
Oh dear- I can’t do that. Or that. I suppose that as ever, I need to stop worrying about what others do, and just trust that what I am/have is enough. I can do that. I think. Perhaps I will write a poem about it.
Anyway- there is lots of good stuff at GB this year- some music I really like- A Show of Hands, Kate Rusby, as well as headline speakers Rob Bell and Brian McLaren.
If you are going this year, and you read this blog- drop me a line, perhaps we can share a beer/coffee.
Otherwise, Aoradh’s worship slot is on Friday night this year- 7pm I think…
When I was a child I saw as a child
Walking scary streets
Avoiding the pavement cracks
Hoping for a God-who-saves
To save me
.
I watched normality, envious
Each window framed a mysterious montage
Full of the glorious ordinariness of the other
Performing their small evening rituals
Needing no secrets
.
And me, an alien observer
Hidden in the static noise
At the edge of the radar screen
Tentacles twitching
.
It is the gift of the outsider
To see inwards
To linger in doorways
And enter reluctantly
Welcome but wary
Never quite learning how to belong
Our lovely friend Sharon had a birthday- cue for a cake.
Here she is going in for the kill.
May this year (for her) be full of sweet (yet wholesome!) things…
My old friend Andy Prosser has a new venture going at present- marketing photographs and images for commercial use.
If you are looking for photographs, or textured backgrounds, check out his account here– good value, high quality stuff. Some of them taken during a recent wilderness retreat.
Andy does youth and community work with Fusion and this is one of the things that will support some of the great things they do- so give it a try!
I have spent much of this weekend working on our new website for all things Sgath an Tighe. I hinted at a possible change of direction for the family recently- well here it is made real in cyber space!
Eventually this will be a portal for a number of different things happening in or around out house-
She was back this morning- with both of the kids.
I know they are eating my plants (although, as you can see, the grass is overdue for cutting) but they are such beautiful creatures.
I am reminded of one of Justin’s lovely poems- circulated as part of our Aoradh daily meditations-
Peace to you. Peace with you.
You that sleep without resting
Wake without rising, Peace to you.
.
Peace with you.
You that have grown distant
From the sparrow, Peace to you.
.
Peace with you.
You that wait in some deep
Valley and know it not yet
.
As the beginning of a mountain.
May you be wholly and holy
Peaceful and makers thereof.
.
And while we are on the subject of peace- here is a picture of Michaela and our youngest guest- little Laurie whose parents are staying in the Annexe at the moment.