Bishops, Centurions and sexuality…

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So the Church of England is in the middle of another storm caused by the nomination of Jeffrey John as one of the candidates to take over as Bishop of Southwark. He is openly gay, although celebate, and has already had to stand down as suffragan bishop of Reading because of his sexuality after protests from traditionalists.

It makes more likely the prospect of a split in the Anglican Communion, a prospect which makes me sad, as the real strength of the C of E is it’s diversity- and generosity to a wide range of theological positions.

Tonight, our housegroup had a discussion around chapter 8 of Matthew’s gospel- including this familiar passage-

5When Jesus had entered Capernaum, a centurion came to him, asking for help. 6“Lord,” he said, “my servant lies at home paralyzed and in terrible suffering.”7Jesus said to him, “I will go and heal him.”

8The centurion replied, “Lord, I do not deserve to have you come under my roof. But just say the word, and my servant will be healed. 9For I myself am a man under authority, with soldiers under me. I tell this one, ‘Go,’ and he goes; and that one, ‘Come,’ and he comes. I say to my servant, ‘Do this,’ and he does it.”

10When Jesus heard this, he was astonished and said to those following him, “I tell you the truth, I have not found anyone in Israel with such great faith. 11I say to you that many will come from the east and the west, and will take their places at the feast with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven. 12But the subjects of the kingdom will be thrown outside, into the darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”

13Then Jesus said to the centurion, “Go! It will be done just as you believed it would.” And his servant was healed at that very hour.

(NIV)

Audrey and Paul discussed the fact that they had hear it suggested that the relationship between the centurion and his servant may have been sexual. Apparently it would not have been unusual for Romans to take ‘servants’ as homosexual lovers.

The speculation then is whether the centurion did not want Jesus to come to his house because he was trying to hide the true nature of their relationship.

But if this is true- then Jesus would have known. He was Jesus after all.

And if he knew, it was not relevant to him was it? He did not mention it, focussing on the faith of the centurion, and the fact that those outside the religious institution of his day- or even outside the ‘kingdom’- might yet be welcome at the table.

I am sure you get my point.

My position has moved a long way on this issue. The dominance of individual sexuality as a measure of a person, and as an exclusion criteria for their service in the church- I am increasingly frustrated by it.

And I remain convinced that in 20 years, the dominant view within a broader cross section of the church will move in this direction also. I just hope that the C of E will make it that far.

Ettrick bay, Bute…

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I was on Bute yesterday- and the combination of sunshine and dramatic sky was stunning. Even for a person of my limited photographic skills.

I took a turn out to Ettrick Bay at lunch time…

To be near such places is a blessing- but one that easily comes to be taken for granted.

My relationship to places like these has changed. They are no longer the end of a precious pilgrimage, but rather encountered in the corner of a glance in the middle of a busy working day.

So it becomes all the more important to me to see deeply and to be grateful.

Some days it is easier than others.

The reformulation of ’emerging’ Church?

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I have been watching another little internet spat rumbling on over the past few weeks about this thing called ’emerging church.’ I resisted posting anything myself because I was not entirely sure what my own thoughts were- and to be honest the arguments about EC are wearing very thin.

Not that I do not still think the term is useful- for me it is still something that has meaning. But more as a description of process, not of destination.

It was always inevitable that this rather formless, leaderless movement, gathered together through blogs and podcasts more than in books and buildings, would ebb and flow, splinter and reform. This is what seems to be happening. The early adopters of the label have mostly moved on- radicals tend to have short attention spans, and perhaps to0 easily offend or take offence.

The latest discussion/disruption began with this post by Kester Brewin– who was reflecting on his impression of the return of a lot of early pioneer leaders seemed to be returning to the institutions that they left.

TSK kind of agreed.

‘Romantic tosh’ said Jonny Baker. He pointed out that it had never been an either-or situation, but a both-and. A lot of the new forms of Church had been actively fostered and supported by traditional church forms- particularly by the C of E in England. Here is Jonny talking about this very thing back in 2008 (perhaps it is a sign of how much things have changed recently that this seems a long time ago?)-

So- for my two penny worth, here is the view from up north.

U here the influence of the ’emerging conversation’ has been strong, if a few years behind the English experience. However despite the use of the term within some of our big religious institutions (the Church of Scotland here for example) there has been little physical development, or signs of significant innovation around new forms of Church- unless I am missing something.

Perhaps this is in part because the sectarian entrenchment, both between Catholic and Protestant, and between embattled protestant groups (who still tend to be more interested in fighting dogmatic truth wars) has been so pervasive up here. The influence of American style fundamentalism via satellite TV  is also a constant irritation to me.

My small group often feels isolated. We have sought to make friendships and partnerships wherever we can, and to network ourselves to others with whom we can share activities and stories. Up here, the issue is not whether emerging church is retreating back to institutions, but rather a question of where those of us who are seeking to find new ways of doing church will find any kind of mutual support and mentoring.

All movements need leadership. Those of us that have been inoculated against ‘modern’ leadership (by our experience of Church) tend to eschew the forms of church that are led like large industrial-military organisations.  For this reason, the leadership required by us is of a very particular kind- I have written about this before- here.

But I simply do not care whether these leaders are part of a large institution or not.

Although my impression is that the generosity and tolerance seen in the old C of E perhaps makes it well suited to the task…

I wonder where we will be in 5 years? We live in interesting times.

The battle against racism returns to Dunoon’s foreshore…

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There is a rock about a hundred yards from where I live that has been decorated for about 100 years like this-

I have previously described some of the controversy that surrounds this rock (here and here.)

I recently came across another website run by someone I know in Dunoon, which was set up as a result of his concern about what the history and symbolism of the rock might mean…

He quotes someone called Dr Waters from the Institute of Race Relations as saying this-

“… there can be no doubt that the painting of the ‘face’, with its exaggerated red mouth, is a typically caricatured image of a black person, as popularised by the American entertainer T.D. Rice in the nineteenth century. […] I feel certain that black visitorsfrom outside would see this as somewhat insulting […] as a derogatory reference to their skin colour and origins.”

Last year someone took matters in their own hands and painted out the rock with some brown paint. They did a rather good job, and it was hard to tell that it had ever been decorated.

And as the local furore raged, someone else simply redecorated it as above.

Well, last night someone revisited the rock- this is what it looks like today-

Is Dunoon a racist town?

No more than any other I would say- although the largest ethnic minority here are the English, and we have a measure of anti-English sentiment like most places in Scotland. But narrow mindedness and prejudice are a feature of all our human communities and perhaps in small isolated towns like mine they can be long lasting.

There are not many black faces here. However, there used to be an American Naval base here until around 15 years ago, and there were lots of black American servicemen here then. Stories of race riots and segregated drinking are part of the local folklore. As are fond memories of the life and vitality brought to our community by people from African American origin.

Quite what these servicemen thought about the rock, I would love to know. Where they so used to such images that it was unremarkable? Were they told not to protest by their command structure? Or did it carry no racist meaning for them?

I hope that this latest act of direct action might yet highlight the meaning of ‘Jim Crow’ for Black Americans to people in Dunoon.

Because I think that we have should challenge prejudice wherever we find it- whether or not it is unintentional, or inherited from a previous generation with a different world view.

Emerging church and the new Charismatic-Mystics…

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I came across a post on on the Emergent Village blog that really resonated with me. This was a piece by Dave Brown, who speaks really well about his background in the Charismatic movement. His ambivalence towards this background is very familiar- a combination of cringe and affection that I have spoken about before- here for example.

He talks about a new emergent kind of Charismatic movement, typified by the tripped out whacky stuff that surrounds John Crowder- Check this out!

Scary?

Hilarious?

Or just totally baffling?

My reaction is no surprise to me. Mostly I just recoil. But I have been in environments like this- usually hiding behind a guitar, but enough to feel a slight yearning for the uninhibited emotional and spiritual outpouring that such encounters provide- even the slightly more buttoned-down British version of them.

And talking of the British version, Dave makes mention in his article of Sloshfest- and other festivals in Wales, associated with familiar names (to us here in Aoradh anyway) like Godfrey Birtill. (We invited him to Dunoon once, and it was a bit of a road accident- but that is another story!)

Check out this site too- by the ‘Drunk Monk’.

What of all this then? Those of us who have escaped environments like these have common stories- of the oppression and madness that comes when you overheat and over sell ecstatic experience, leading to all sorts of leadership excesses and psychological damage. But we will also remember the freedom, then joy, the sense of release and belonging. Lots of good, mixed in with some really bad. I am happy to leave most of it behind…

But fringe movements like this are emerging at the same time as our own. People are forging a new frontier of faith, because the old one is whithering- and as Dave points out in his article our direction has been too often into the intellect- we have congratulated and celebrated deconstruction and theological debate. And we have eschewed emotion, and joy, and outward celebration.

And to be honest, I have simply never liked ambient chilled out music. I like music that engages, rather than simply providing a blank wallpaper.

I liked what Dave had to say here-

None of us on the fringes want to be held down by spiritual tyranny. That’s why we’ve voluntarily exiled ourselves to the desert of edge-pushing spirituality. And that was one of the things that attracted people like my parents to the Charismatic movement. They wanted more than establishment-friendly religion. And while Charismania has frequently (and often rightly) been criticized as all emotion and no substance, I think it’s unwise to adhere to the opposite extreme of all head and no heart. More specifically, I think we all could handle a little more emotion in our spiritual regimen. It’s okay to cry or laugh in church. It’s okay to express our passion with boisterous antics…or weepy, knees-on-floor reverence.

It’s okay to come out from behind the mask of objective distance. Because sometimes life sucks and we need to share the burden with somebody. And sometimes God has worked a miracle and we need to shout it from the rooftops. Sometimes we’re pissed off and it does more harm to hold it in. And sometimes we’ve experienced a hit of holy joy and freedom that we can’t explain, and we should share these things because that’s what community is for.

I don’t want this precious movement of the emerging church to end up as just another dry, debate-filled clique that gradually becomes the empire it set out to avoid. But I have enormous hope that that will never be the case. Because we are all part of a bigger story that will continue to evolve. Even as we sometimes try to distance ourselves from the label, we on the fringes are still an integral part of the larger Christian movement that’s been rolling on for millennia, and it always will be bigger than any one empire that tries to lay claim to it.

Amen brother (as I used to say)

Amen.

Internet communication- the cyber space between us…

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I had an e-mail from a friend today.

I had not spoken to him for a while as our last communication had been rather contentious- first over Facebook, then by e-mail. I had been trying to catch up with him to have a face to face discussion but it had not worked out yet- phone calls missed, text messages crossed- you know how it goes.

It left me reflecting not for the first time (see here for example,) on how the internet allows for a million connections- all of which lack something crucially human. And of how it allows us to sit in our isolated boxes and have the illusion of human interaction via all sorts of electronic devices, but still to remainwholly alone.

That is not entirely fair of course- it is possible to send lots of information by means of our computers and the glorious internet. For example- you are reading this. But as a means of doing what humans were really made to do- to share our lives in community- it has major flaws.

It lacks flesh.

It closes us off from all of those human communication nuances- body language, facial expression, physical touch.

It is constantly open to misinterpretation.

It places communication at a distance from emotion.

It promotes volume (‘hits’, numbers of face book friends,  connection speed etc.) over quality and depth.

When the going gets tough, it is even easier to move on- simply take someone off of your contact list.

The best of what we are is revealed through our human community- the love we show for one another and the sacrifices we are prepared to make for one another. You simply can not do this in any kind of complete way via a computer screen.

Back to the e-mail. This is what it said-

Hello,

I am caught up in a real mess and i need your help. I’m sorry I didn’t inform you about my trip ,I had a trip to the NEW YORK and a bizarre thing happened to me.I was mugged at gun point last night, the muggers carted away with all my belongings excluded my passport.Cell,c-card,cash and some important documents are all gone.

I was able to make contact with the US Police and i was directed to the Consular office, but they seems to be taking things to slow. i need your help so urgently.. My flight leaves pretty soon but i am having problems sorting out the hotel bills and also need getting my ticket straightened out. I need your help. I need a quick loan to get things fixed out here, I promise to refund as soon as i get back home.. please reply as soon as you get these  email. so i can tell you what to do and how to get the money to me..

Hope to read from you soon..

Now to be honest, I was sceptical. But my friend has American connections, so I thought that it was not impossible that he was indeed in trouble and needed help, so I replied asking him what was going on, and what he needed. I then received a reply that suggested that he needed $1500, and way for me to pay.

I phoned my friend, and he answered. He was not in New York- of course it was a scam, as someone had hacked into his Google mail account.

But we managed to plan to meet next week- and I am really looking forward to seeing him again. E-mails are dangerous, but sometimes they can facilitate real connections, and for that, I am grateful.

Anyone want to buy a used crown of thorns?

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I have been continuing to enjoy the radio 4 series ‘A History of the world in 100 objects.’ It is a great idea- using ancient objects as windows into the culture and circumstances that produced them. It almost (but not quite) justifies all of that Victorian relic collecting in the days of Empire (otherwise known as plundering.)

Todays programme concerned itself with an object I had never heard of before- the Holy Thorn Reliquary.

This object was made some time around the 1390’s to be the receptacle for a thorn from what is claimed to be the crown of thorns that Jesus was made to wear when he was crucified.

It is decorated with scenes of the crucifixion, and an imagination of the return of Jesus on the day of judgement. It is a fabulously expensive object- covered in jewels and gold. The thorn itself is displayed behind some polished rock crystal.

The King of France bought the Crown from Constantinople around 1239- after it had been sold to the Venetians to pay off a debt.

At the time, it was probably the most valuable and expensive object in the whole of Christendom. Its owner was able to use it as evidence of his piety and power, and claim it as a blessing on his nation and Kingship.

In many ways, this object might be seen to objectify a pre modern medieval world view that the coming of the modern enlightenment and the Reformation swept away. All the bad stuff of bloody crusades and rich sinners buying indulgences to atone for terrible crimes.

And of course, in the brisk trade in religious relics- from the bones of minor saints, right through to the Holy Grail, or fragments of the true cross of Jesus.

But perhaps the most venerated object of all is the Crown of Thorns- kept as it is in the centre of the most famous Cathedral in the middle of Paris- Notre Dame. Stained with the blood of Jesus. Forced onto the head of God, come to earth.

Now I know what you are thinking- surely no one really thinks that these objects are genuine?

It certainly seems that people did- from as long ago as 409 AD there are records of people venerating these objects, and the King of France was prepared to shell out a huge sum of money- 5 times the cost of building a cathedral- to get hold of the Crown of Thorns.

What interests me, as ever, is what these objects might have meant to the faith of individuals- indeed, what they might STILL mean to the faith of individuals. Where they just power statements of a faith-gone-wrong, or was there something about them that might have carried the sacred into people’s minds and hearts?

Like all faith, we can only understand from our own perspective. Meaning is always filtered by context and experience.

We POST moderns seem to have a fascination with the pre-modern world. It represents a mystical perspective that we lost for a few hundred years- replaced by hard logic and rational discourse.

And these relics offer a window into other forms of Christian faith…

Rehearsing for old age…

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The kids are away for a week on holiday with some friends. Gulp.

They will have a lovely time, but it is strange for M and me. We have not spent so much time alone for 14 years.

Today a storm blew along the Clyde and interrupted our industry. A blessing in wind and rain, gifting us with a slow Sunday morning reading, listening to music and snuggling on the sofa.

These days are rare indeed.

And how blessed I am that I get to share mine with M…


Today we rehearsed old age

And it was lovely

.

Our bones went soft

And our muscles ceased their strain

.

There is a storm on the old river

And kind grey light makes

Our faces take on

Graceful lines

And shadows

.

You on the sofa

And me in my chair

.

Today we rehearsed old age

And it was lovely

Reflecting on the losing of humanity…

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Thank the good Lord for Friday. It has been another long hard week.

Regular readers and friends will know that I earn a living by working as a mental health social worker- for around 20 years now. Or to be honest, these days I do not do a lot of social work (although I still practice as a Mental Health Officer)- I do this other thing called ‘management’.  Some days I am not sure how much longer I can do it.

What has allowed me to survive so long working within a large bureaucratic institution has been two things- firstly the need to provide for my family, and secondly the hope that I might be able to genuinely make a difference to the lives of the people I work with. In management, it is possible to fulfil the first, but the second- well the evidence is not as strong.

Being in contact with people in the extremes of distress and crisis on a daily basis does something to you. It is impossible to stay as emotionally engaged as we do when we first begin these encounters. The best of my colleagues hold on to their compassion however- we nurture it by making it shape our language, our small talk and the way we treat everyone we come across. We have learnt that kindness in the small things, despite terrible external circumstances, can indeed make a difference.

And sometimes that is the only thing we have to offer.

Images by Fred Kleinberg

In the course of my work, I come across people who have done terrible things. People who others would say have lost all sense of humanity.

People who have harmed children, or killed and dismembered people.

Others who have locked themselves away (or been locked away) and have lost or forgotten almost all basic skills of human interaction.

Perhaps most striking is watching people slowly destroyed by addiction. To see them in the later stages of this- near to death- and wonder what incredible life force keeps a person alive when skin is bright jaundice-yellow and all organs are playing discords.

Sometimes it seems that almost all that makes us human is gone.

Almost- but not all.

Because in all of these people, despite their brokenness, what is left- what is most visible, is… their humanity.

Unhidden, undefended, right on the surface like an open flesh wound.

And should we lose sight of this, the danger is that it is not their humanity that will be at risk- but rather our own.

I wrote this in response to a recent event…

Deep in the soup and the stew of him

In the ooze and glisten of his grey matter

Some synapses spark and flicker

Sending out electro-chemical dots and dashes

.

And he- wired almost to breaking point

Is all strung out

Senses dulled

But deadly receptive

.

So bone becomes knuckle

Muscles turn to gristle

And poisoned sinew moves like a snake

Ready to strike

.

Later some said he was evil

That some dark thing was in him

Others called him mad

A flesh machine gone wrong

.

Still others bayed for his blood

-as if enough had not been spilt already

They want eyes put out for the eyes he closed

And every broken tooth smashed in return

.

Me, I stand over a stain in an old carpet

Through which something human has fallen

And feel a little of myself

Drain away