Epiphany

Today is the Feast of the Epiphany, the day we remember the visit, recounted in St Luke's Gospel, of the visit of the 'wisemen from the East' to Bethlehem. It marks the end of the Christmas festival and the beginning of the season of Epiphany, and something more. It marks the revelation of the Christ child to a wider audience than simply the Jewish people.

The 'wise men' represent the world population, and whether they were kings, astrologers, wandering mystics or anything else, is irrelevant. They came to Bethlehem, bearing gifts on our behalf. They saw, they spoke to Mary and Joseph, and went quietly home to await events. They and their story are significant simply because of who they came to represent - us.

This is one reason why, for the Orthodox Churches, 'Christmas' is celebrated at the Epiphany, and not on the 25th December. Perhaps something we should all attempt to recapture and reinstall in our frenzied world of fairy tales, reindeer, jolly old chaps with sleighs full of gifts and shop chains all dependent on turning the celebration of the birth of Christ into a feeding frenzy of profit to balance their books.

The gifts mentioned all have an allegoric significance - Gold represents the wealth of the world. Frankincense represents the offerings given in the Temple, which only the Priests could offer and then only to God, and Myhr is the embalming spice used to prepare the dead for burial. The gifts are the foretelling of what is to come for this babe in Bethlehem. St John says, 'He came to His own, and His own knew Him not.' The wise men from the East brought him the gifts, the offerings of the world, and while He would be rejected by His own people, they 'knew' Him and accepted Him.

That is the significance of their story as told in Matthew.

Easter and the empty tomb ...

Today is Easter Day, the day the women visiting the tomb of Jesus to finish the burial preparations, in other words, the proper embalming of the body hastily wrapped and laid out in the tomb of Joseph of Arimathea on the eve of the Sabbath or Passover. To their horror, the body was gone, so were the guards the Sanhedrin had posted to ensure no one took and hid the body in order to claim exactly what they feared - that Christ had indeed 'risen from the dead'. But the curious thing here is that the 'thieves' had apparently unwrapped the body - though they left them in a position which suggested it had simply been 'extracted' from the wrappings, leaving them empty. The single item not where it had originally been placed, was a 'napkin' (KJV translation) that had been used to cover the head and face.

That had been carefully folded and placed in a place apart. That is, in itself interesting, since it was, and is,  a signal given by the head of the household at a Jewish meal, that the food may be cleared - the meal is finished.

Why is this 'curious'? It suggests that, if it was the work of 'grave robbers' they were extremely well prepared, and had no fear of being disturbed. Since the Sanhedrin had taken the precaution of posting guards - veterans unlikely to be frightened off by a handful of grave robbers - something else must have occurred to do so. Interestingly there are independent accounts in existence that say the Sanhedrin later paid the guards to say they were attacked and the body stolen, a story picked up in recent years every time an ossary is found bearing the name 'Yeshua' and touted as 'possible' proof that the Sanhedrin story is true. Since 'Yeshua' (Jesus in Hellenised form) was a very common name at the time of the crucifixion, these 'discoveries' actually prove nothing.

It is often also claimed that the resurrection chapters of the gospel accounts were added two or more centuries later. That claim falls when the author style is examined for Matthew, Luke and John. Those books display the same 'author style' throughout, and all three were written in the form we have them today by 80AD. How do we know this? Quite simply because papyrus fragments exist which show that later copies were accurate. The exception is the Gospel of Mark - probably the earliest of the four, and probably based on the memories of Peter himself, and filled in by the observations of Mark, the 'youth who ran away naked' from the Garden of Gethsemane, in whose parents house the Last Supper took place. The final chapter of that is different, and was added later. Why? Largely because the scroll from which the present version was copied had been damaged, quite possibly in a fire, and the ending destroyed. Legend has it that the original was damaged in the fire at the time of Nero. It is that 'reconstruction' which has become, courtesy of the Internet, 'proof' that all the resurrection stories are false.

What do I believe? I believe that Jesus of Nazareth did leave the tomb. What remained were the grave clothes, the pain, the wounds and the blood. What came forth was a new being, the forerunner of what we are all to become. His friends didn't recognise him, and we are not able to judge why on the evidence available. Though the way the story is written we can draw the conclusion that there was no sign of his wounds or suffering (remember he'd been flogged and then crucified - the flogging alone would have left some serious wounds on his body, even without the wound inflicted by the soldiers spear, or the nails going through his hands and feet), and that something else about him had changed dramatically.  The fact he 'appeared' to several people who knew him well and wasn't recognised is strongly suggestive of this, but one thing had not - the way he 'broke the bread' he shared with them.

I believe, therefore, in the Resurrection. I believe that in Christ, we see what is to be. This is why I have no hesitation in saying with Christians everywhere - Christ is Risen. Hallelujah! He is risen indeed. Hallelujah.

Middle East's 'Christian Winter'

It is rare for the BBC to post something that acknowledges the fact the Christians are suffering, so, when they do, it is worth getting it more widely read. In the article, "A Point of View: The long winter for the Middle East's Christians" the author, a resident of Delhi, India, makes a number of interesting points about both the seldom mentioned co-existence of Christians and Muslims, but how some of the 'sayings of Jesus' not found in Christian literature, can be found in Islamic books. It is that co-existence that is now threatened, and being systematically destroyed, by the hardline fundamentalists who have taken over the 'Arab Spring'.

In Egypt alone, some 14 million Christians are increasingly the target of attacks. Prior to the civil war in Syria, some 10% of the population were Christian, and to them must be added the Christians driven out of Iraq post the war on Saddam. Now they are being driven out again as al-Qaeda inspired Salafists take control of the revolution and target Christians as 'the enemy of the Prophet'. Turkey has a large Christian population and once, Iran had some 6% of the population as Christians. They were decimated during the war with Iraq, mostly used to clear minefields or lead suicide attacks on Iraqi positions. Today only about 1% of the Iraqi population is Christian, the rest have been driven out, forced to convert, or killed off. Nor is this unique. Pakistan has allowed the fundamentalist Mullahs to wage an undeclared and unacknowledged campaign against Christian communities since Independence - yet it is never acknowledged by the western media.

It is refreshing therefore to see it mentioned 'en passant' by William Dalrymple. The article is a fair one, though he does focus more on the fact that there was co-operation and mutual respect in the past - and not much on the realities of the present. Still, it is a start, and a glimmer of light being shone into a murky area the media - and the BBC in particular - usually try to ignore.

All Hallows

With Halloween or All Hallow's Eve almost upon us again, I note with resignation that yet again we have trolls on almost all the social media trying to claim that Christianity is/has "stolen" Samhain. I have today even seen something written by someone claiming it is an "ancient Wiccan" festival. Obviously she is unaware that the whole "Wicca" thing was an invention of Alistair Crowley and the "Golden Dawn" Order of the late 19th and early 20th Century. Actually, even they would be surprised by the claims now accruing to the movement which was actually formed in the 1930s and further developed in the 1950s by an unlikely gentleman who would, today, probably be involved in the investigation currently underway in the UK.

I read some of this with a yawn, simply because it isn't new, it's been known for centuries. Christianity even acknowledges that their calendar was organised to make use of existing celebrations and feasts, just giving them a "Christian" spin and purpose. After all, if people are already marking a season as special, why introduce a whole new calendar? It doesn't make sense to do so and will only alienate (which is what these neo-pagans seem to be trying to do) everyone. It isn't something unique to Christianity either. The Egyptians did it, adopting new gods and feasts each time they were conquered or conquered someone else. So did the Babylonians, the Greeks, Persians and the Romans. So what? If you want to hold a feast of Saturnalia at Christmas time, fine. Go ahead, but don't complain that Christmas is "ruining" your marking of the Saturnalia or demand that everyone send you a 'Happy Saturnalia' card.

Samhain was, in Celtic lore (and can we please stop thinking the only "Celts" are the Welsh, Scots, Cornish and Irish? Just about every people west of a line from Gdansk on the Baltic to the Adriatic are Celtic in origin. The name was wrongly applied by someone in the 18th Century to the Scots, Welsh and Irish. The Irish are actually Gael, and the Western Scots and Northern Irish, Pict), a time to commemorate the dead. It was believed that the realms of the dead and the living met at this season as the winter began in earnest. This has echoes in other cultures and faiths as well. It made sense to the early Christians to keep it as a memorial celebration of all the "Saints" and the day following, all those who 'wait in death for the coming of the Lord.' Like Samhain, it is a two day feast, All Saints on the 1st and All Souls on the 2nd. Somehow the fact that the feast starts at Sunset on the 31st (The monastic church "day" follows the Jewish - it starts at sunset and finishes at the following sunset) and ends on the 2nd November.

To claim it is "exactly" Samhain is also misleading since the Gregorian (and the preceding Julian) calendars differ slightly from the lunar calendar used by the non-Roman world.

I will be keeping the feast in the Christian manner. Remembering the lives of all the Saints who kept the faith alive through persecution, political manipulation and social upheaval. I will also be keeping the second part of the feast with a quiet remembrance of all those who have gone before me into rest, but who made me who and what I have become.

An Earthquake in Rome?

For quite a while now there has been a problem in the Roman Catholic Diocese of Limburg. A project to renovate several historic buildings and provide a new flat and administrative centre for the Bishop lay at the heart of what was in the media, but now it has emerged as only the tip of a very large iceberg which has finally forced Rome to take action. On the face of it, the project seems entirely reasonable. The buildings needed restoration, and the old Bishop's residence and office were no longer either fit for purpose or really habitable. So far, so good, but now enter a new Bishop in 2007, an academic with aristocratic ambitions and an authoritarian attitude, and things go downhill fast.

It needs to be explained to non-German residents, that the RCC bishops enjoy quite a degree of autonomy. How they use that depends on how 'traditionalist' they are, or how 'liberal'. The 'new' Limburg bishop belongs in the ultra-traditionalist camp, and, according to some of his disaffected congregation, sees himself as a medieval 'Fuerstbischoff' - a Prince Bishop in English - whose authority was not to be questioned and who 'ruled' his See without deference to anyone. That he also has, as do most of the RCC bishops, a 'private' Trust set up in the 19th Century which he may use 'for the enrichment and furtherance of the Church' means he is more or less independent of the opinions of anyone else as well. That is where the problem really starts. The Roman 'rules' for the expenditure of money on building projects require that Rome be consulted on any project over €5 million. The bishop went to considerable effort to make sure the way the project was 'costed out' kept each part of it just under that ceiling - so no one except his immediate 'team' had any idea of how much was being spent. In fact one senior member of his advisory Board, when questioned on National television, responded with the irritated exclamation: "Hallo? We're all good Catholics. We didn't expect our Bishop to deceive us, so we didn't question what he told us."

A pity really, because now it is revealed that the costs have soared to over €30 million, and likely to rise still to over €40 million when all the damages caused to adjoining properties are taken into account. How did this arise? Well, despite the impression created in the media, it isn't all going on the Bishop's flat. There are in fact ten major projects, the flat, chapel and administrative centre being among them. They do, however, form the lion's share of it, partly because the Bishop has a taste for luxury and partly to meet his artistic ideas (like exposing some of the 'natural rock formation' beneath his residence to the view of visitors - with a little 'improvement' of course) and to display some of the church treasures so visitors can enjoy them.

More important is the fact that the laity eventually smelled a rat and have demanded answers. One, an avowed member of the RCC actually fixed Luther's 95 Theses to the Bishop's gates. Another managed to gain access to the cathedral clock tower and reset the bells to strike 13 times at midday (the Angelus is rung by twelve strokes of the bell at Midday) which reflects a folk saying that the bell striking thirteen is an end. The loss of trust is enormous, and it is slowly emerging, itself an earth shattering event, that the bishop has more or less alienated all his senior clergy, most prominently the Dean of Frankfurt, and now even the Dean of Limburg cathedral itself has broken his silence and admitted he and the bishop were not at the same table.

The earthquake in Rome is that the Pope has now relieved the bishop of his duties, sending him 'on leave' to 'recover' while a commission looks into the whole affair and reports. That it has sent a shock wave through Rome is now exposed, this must be the first time in a long, long while, that Rome has responded to public external pressure in this way. While the bishop isn't yet removed from his post, it is clear he cannot expect to return to Limburg, itself a major departure from normal Roman practise.

What it exposes, of course, is summed up in the statement of that adviser - it is not done, by 'good' Catholics, to question their bishops. Rome has long enjoyed that 'status' for its bishops and other clergy. 'Ordinary' people cannot, must not, dare not, question their authority. This has led to massive abuses down the centuries. It was one of the reasons the Reformers fought to break away from Rome in the 16th Century. It was a major cause of the formation of the Church of England, and it was a major factor in the misery (and ongoing problems) in Ireland for much of the 20th Century with abuse of power in politics, in social issues and in the treatment of women and children in the 'refuges' managed by the RCC for the Irish State. In Germany as well, abuses are emerging (alongside those of the former DDR 'orphanages' for children removed from 'unsuitable' parents) and the repercussions are yet to be fully appreciated in some quarters. Rome is right to be taking definite action, but this is just one issue it needs to address urgently.

The Limburg affair has sent a shock wave through the Church and through Germany, but, as I said at the outset, they are addressing, at present, only the tip of a much larger iceberg. They will need to act very swiftly to deal with all the other problems before this loss of credibility damages them fatally. There is no place today for "Prince" bishops ruling autocratically, nor is there really a place for unquestioning obedience in matters of faith. Limburg will get a new Bishop, one it is to be hoped, with a more pastoral understanding of his role. He will not have an easy task, but neither does Pope Francis as he grapples with a Curia determined to resist any attempt to open some of the discussions Rome knows it must have if it is to retain or regain any shred of credibility.

New Blog

Today I am pleased to declare that I have installed a new Blog on my blogroll. It is the Blog set up by the Diocese of Gloucester and, though I don't agree with some of the articles posted, that is also acceptable. In a society like ours it is important that ALL views are expressed and considered. I have always believed that one should never read, listen to, or follow only one side of any discussion, no matter how strongly one feels on the subject. A balanced opinion can only be obtained if one considers all the information available on any given subject.

It will, I hope, not surprise many of my readers to realise that I do agree with far more on the Diocesan Blog than I take leave to differ on. That is probably also as it should be. I hope that readers here will go to the Gloucester blog and find a great deal to think about, perhaps discuss and even argue over. It is a new venture by the Diocese, and I hope it finds a wide audience, both within and without the church. Give it a try, I'm sure you'll be pleasantly surprised by some of the posts and topics. I have no doubt there will be articles you disagree with, but the 'other perspective' is an essential part of being informed.

A bit of explaining...?

It seems that Pope Francis is determined to stir things up in the Vatican and his church. This week the German Bishops Conference is in session and has many things on its agenda which, even a few years ago, would not have been even allowable for discussion. Perhaps even mere months ago would not have even been mentioned. It is refreshing to hear and read that they are reviewing the way they deal with divorce and remarriage, and it is even more interesting that they are even talking about, perhaps, maybe, some day soon, talkig about women in the Diaconate and possibly ...

One can't help but wonder where all those who fled the Anglican Church for Rome because they can't accept women in Ministry, will go next. The Orthodox Churches?

In the news at the moment in Germany is the Bishop of Limburg, an academic appointed by Benedict XVI, and someone who genuinely seems to think that, as Bishop, he is the sole dictator in his Diocese. The reason he's currently there though, is the runaway costs incurred in the building of his new headquarters, a combination of offices, apartments and a small conference centre. It is worth noting that it is being created inside the shell of a historic building, and that creates a few costly problems in itself. They don't really have a choice in this, the Dom and its adjoining buildings are all "heritage" and the Dom dominates the Old Town of Limburg - so the outline and the appearance of any building is of national and international interest.

The problem is that the costs were supposed to be around €2 million. That was bad enough, but it rapidly became €10 million. A couple of months ago, the country was shocked by the announcement that the cost had actually topped €20 million. That brought a Cardinal diplomat from Rome to try and stop what was rapidly becoming an outright rebellion against the Bishop and his supporters on one hand, and those who felt very strongly about his high handed approach, his spending money lavishly on his "HQ" while closing churches and cutting clergy numbers. The Bishops' Conference agreed to carry out a review of the costs and the actual works - and this week dropped a real bombshell.

Costs have spiralled to an astonishing €31 million ... The Vatican is now seriously worried.

As an ex-church warden for an ancient and historic buildig, I am all too aware of just how quickly costs can spiral when one attempts any work in a heritage environment. It's one reason I am no longer a supporter of English Heritage or National Trust. In Britain, unlike Europe, churches get nothing from the government toward maintaining their buildings, part of the nations heritage and culture. It all has to be raised by the congregation, but English Heritage, Society for the Protection of Ancient Buildings and the government itself, all want to direct it and what may be done. Their intervention frequently increases costs astronomically - but they don't have to pay it, so no worries there. Something similar seems to have happened here. The bishop's people have actually spent the money using high quality materials and seem to have created a very appropriate building within the historic shell. The quality of the materials used will ensure it lasts, but the cost is phenomenal.

Rome is right to be concerned, ultimately they are picking up the tab, not the Limburg Diocese, but Rome gets its money from the people in the pews. The Bishops here are appalled by the cost of this project. As one has said, with all the really important things they need to discuss and to convey to the people, this is a distraction they don't need.

Hopefully the lesson has been learned, certainly the Bishop of Limburg has a few questions to answer. It appears he'll be visiting Rome again soon to 'discuss' the issue with his bosses. Rome also has its problems, and the Pope has flung open the doors where John XXIII opened a window. Nothing happens fast in Rome, but, as I wrote earlier, now they are talking about discussing women in ministry, married priests and the admission of divrcees to the Communion. One step at a time, one tentative exploration at a time. It will be interesting to see how this develops from here.

A Little Theological Conundrum ...

Two pictures, and some ideas to bounce around the blogosphere today. We are all familiar with the various paintings of "The Last Supper", most of them done in the Renaissance or later, and almost all of them based on the literal interpretation of the Gospel accounts of the event. Jesus and the Twelve. No one else. There's even a convention in the way the twelve are arranged at the table and how they are depicted, but, and here's the conundrum, is this the right way to see it? Is this a correct depiction of the final meal Christ shared with his friends?

Those who like to keep things according to the written word would argue for a yes. However, it isn't quite so simple or straight forward. There are a number of things NOT said in the Gospel accounts for various reasons, among them the fact that the writers didn't expect anyone to be reading this who didn't "know" certain important cultural things about such a meal. Second, you didn't waste valuable papyrus writing down what they perceived to be unimportant details, so here goes the first little hand grenade.

The Gospel accounts don't tell us who else was at the table, and names only the key figures. We know, from other sources, that the "Upper Room" was in the house of the parents of John Mark, the writer of the shortest Gospel, and he actually directs his readers to other witnesses then alive who could confirm what he wrote. He wasn't one of the twelve either, at the time he was a teenager - the 'youth' who followed the twelve and Jesus to the Garden of Gethsemane wrapped only in his blanket - and ran away naked when the soldiers tried to arrest him. Why doesn't he mention the Supper was in his parents' house? He didn't need to - everyone knew.

The next bit, is equally important. This was either an Eve of Sabbath meal, or an Eve of Passover meal in a Jewish household. You cannot hold either without sharing it with the entire family, and in the second case, your neighbours and their families, the servants and the children! So, I offer MY version of the Last Supper for argument -

Breaking of Bread.

I'm no Leonardo, but I would like to think this version of The Last Supper, with the wives, daughters and children present is closer to the real event than the more literal interpretations by better painters. What we in Christendom ignore, overlook or fail to recognise is that in a Jewish household the Eve of Sabbath meal begins with the women bring lights to the table, the head of the house then give thanks for the food and breaks and shares the bread. Present are all the household, it is unthinkable for it to be 'men only' and the meal ends with the blessing (usually by the eldest son of the household) and sharing of a cup of wine. Recognise the pattern?

I post this since there is currently a huge row in many Christian churches over the role of women, usually founded on the argument "they weren't present at the Last Supper" or "they weren't selected, ordained or commissioned by Jesus". I'd suggest you read those passages again very carefully - and try to see what is not there "because you would know that".

The second picture is Medieval. It can be seen in Tewkesbury Abbey and adorns the wall of the Trinity Chapel, possibly more famous for the "Kneeling Knight" (supposedly Edward Despenser) on the roof. The painting survived the Iconoclasts largely because it was hidden from view by a wooden screen, though sadly the lower portion of it didn't survive the whitewash of the later puritan tenants. It depicts the Trinity, that stumbling block for Christians and non-Christians alike, and it shows the answer to Christ's question from the cross. Look closely at this wonderful depiction -

It depicts the figure of the Father holding the crucified Son, with the dove of the Holy Spirit between the two. The answer you seek is this - Christ's question was; Why have you forsaken me? The answer is shown here.

I have not forsaken you, I am holding you in my hands.

It depicts the offering of himself, in the form of Jesus that God the Creator and Father has made, and in the Holy Spirit continues to offer in love and grace to anyone and everyone who wishes to accept it. We don't know who the artist is, no one has recorded his name, but the insight he (or she) gives in this painting is profound.

Forward in Faith

Yes, I do know it's the name of a very 'Traditional' and conservative Anglican Group that rejects women in the priesthood - indeed, in any ministry involving the sacraments. I have labelled this post by that title for a different reason, one I hope will become clearer as you read.

In my exploration of my own faith and beliefs I have found many things to challenge me. More than once I have had to reappraise and undertake study or review of some aspect, and more than once have found that what I believed, was in fact erroneous. It has, at times, been a rough ride, and not necessarily only in the journey of discovery in faith. Perhaps this is why I feel drawn to the less rigid and more relaxed theology of the Early Church, and before anyone points it out, yes, they had their fallings out and disagreements as well. The attraction though is that it did encourage each and every member to contribute, to seek understanding and to share that with others.

It did not take me long, once I approached the issue of woman in the priesthood with a more open mind, to discover that there is a wealth of evidence to support the claims that the exclusion of women followed the "official" status of the Church following Constantine's conversion. Suddenly the rich and powerful wanted a piece of it and, naturally, control of it. That mean women had to be relegated to roles acceptable politically. Much is made of Paul's strictures in his letters, yet, if one studies the background to the letters, and the reasons for his responses, one discovers that they were not attempts to ban women from ministry. On the contrary, they were aimed (in particular his stricture regarding women 'speaking' in church) at gossip mongering during worship. One has to remember that the Early Church was, to a large extent, centred on Synagogues and followed Jewish worship practices. Anyone who has attended a Synagogue will know it is not unusual to see quite heated discussions going on between members of the congregation as the Rabbi preaches. Usually it is a discussion centred on some point of religion, but in Paul's day (as now) it could sometimes be just scandal or gossip.

In a recent argument with a Roman Catholic 'traditionalist' and hardline supporter of the Papacy (he doesn't approve of what Francis I is doing), I found myself having to remind him that the Vulgate version of the Bible he relies on as the source of his views, is the product of a Council set up in 1513 to find a single agreed text to be used by everyone in Western Europe. Why was this necessary? The answer was that the copyists over some 1,200 years since Jerome first assembled what became the approved canon, had made mistakes, 'corrections', 'clarifications' and 'improvements' to the texts they copied. It had become a case of there being almost no two copies of the Vulgate Bible that said the same thing. To say that it had been a bone of contention for some years is to understate the case!

In England, the Bishops decided to make a completely new effort to get a single text, resulting in 1511, in the publication of the "Authorised" Version, known everywhere as the King James Bible. They sought out and used the earliest and most authentic copies of original, Greek and Latin texts they could find for their effort, and did a pretty good job of it. The Authorised Version replaced umpteen different versions then in use, including the "Bishops Bible", John Wycliffe's sterling effort and several others. To produce it the scholars had drawn on the Jewish "Babylonian" Canon. This has a slightly different organisation to the "Septuagint" Canon used by the Vulgate, which gives different titles to some books and has some eight more books than the KJV, and the most reliable and original copies of the New Testament available. It must be said that the Vulgate Canon is used very widely almost everywhere outside the "English Speaking World" despite the efforts of the Bible Society and others, but it is probably not that close to Jerome's original text.

The Roman scholars took several years and examined minutely the various texts, comparing these to the oldest versions they could find and came up with the text in use today. It is interesting for the fact that there are some variations in the way things are presented between it and the Authorised Version, many of them actually giving a subtle change to the meaning of some aspects. What both sets of scholars appear to have lacked is any understanding of the Jewish society of the first century which underpinned and shaped the understanding of those first writers and authors. As I have learned in my own seeking and journey, many things we take at 'literal' value do not mean what we think they mean when read by a Jew.

The recent vote by the Church in Wales, to elect and consecrate women into the episcopacy, has brought out all the Anglican bashers from the RCC and from the 'Anglo-Catolic' wing of the Anglican Church. That is a pity, for, though I regard myself as an 'Anglo-Catholic' by default, I do not share their  rejection of the measure. So what if the RCC and the Orthodox Churches do not ordain women as priests and won't consider them as Bishops? One of the beauties of the wider Anglican Church is that its bishops are chosen by the people of a diocese, not selected from a list by the Curia or the Crown Appointments Committee and presented to the 'electors' of a Cathedral Chapter or Diocesan Clergy with the instruction "elect him". In my former Province, a bishop was elected after much prayer for the guidance of the Holy Spirit, discussion and study by a process using an electoral College comprised of three 'Houses', Laity, Clergy and Bishops. Only rarely did the Bishops actually cast a vote, though they often offered guidance to the other two. Only when a candidate got the support of both the lower Houses, would the Bishops affirm that decision. In one such election, the bishop elected was not one of the original candidates, he was a tie-breaker, yet, in the final vote, got almost all the votes in one House and a very substantial majority in the other. The Holy Spirit didn't just speak, it was a shout!

What I have found very sad in reading the various comments posted on blogs and in online articles, is the refusal of many 'traditionalists' to explore beyond what they have 'received' from others of their own mindset. It borders on the approach of the Pharisees and Sadducees toward the teaching of Christ. They allow no possibility that the Holy Spirit may well be at work in this and other changes the Church is making. Yes, I too am saddened at the way some things are 'watered down'. But, if I challenge myself, and really analyse why I feel that way, I find it is generally because I simply want things to be the way they were when I was sixteen and being confirmed 51 years ago. If I am really truthful, I have to confess that what I believed and understood then, is NOT what I understand and believe now. I have grown in both faith and understanding from that point, but many of those I read at present appear to have never left that starting point. That saddens me.

It apparently saddens several senior Roman Catholic Cardinals as well, one of whom is in todays newspapers in Germany saying that Rome must soon allow the marriage of priests, and explore women's ministry. Is he being 'radical' about this? No, as the Vatican confirms, the celibacy 'Rule' is not, as many think, a dogma, it is a 'Discipline' - one many priests find it impossible to keep. Change will come, and where then will those who refuse to accept it find refuge. Married priests is the first small step Rome will take in a much larger debate.

I have no doubt that the Church will continue to change and perhaps to grow again once it learns to adapt, respond and include those who differ from the norm. I am pretty sure that the Church which will eventually bury me will be very different from the one that confirmed me in 1962. Is that a 'bad' thing? I don't think so.

The Roman Conceit?

I have been following with both interest and some irritation, a discussion (in the comments) on the estimable Blog Cranmer. I don't happen to agree with what has been written by the Rev Dr Mullen on this occasion, concerning the decision by the Church in Wales to consecrate women bishops. Frankly, if you ordain women or men, then you have to accept that they can also be consecrated into the bishopric. The fact is that there is a considerable body of evidence to suggest that this is exactly what happened in the Early Church before the Council of Nicea.

My ire has, however, been raised by the supercilious and often patronising comments being made there by a number of people who are apparently converts to Roman Catholicism and one or two others who consider that Wikipedia articles give them all the information they need on the theology of the Anglican Church. One or two, in particular, simply ignore every argument they cannot refute with anything other than "Rome says" and have even managed to presume to tell some Orthodox Jews what a fundamentalist Rabbi has written as if it was the mainstream of Jewish thinking. The irony is that these trolls seem to be blissfully unaware of the row in Germany between the rigidly anti-women in the Church and the modernisers which has got the Bishop of Limburg (among others) into the headlines.

The problem with the RCC is that it cannot decide whether it is an inclusive church, or an exclusive one. In fact, it often seems that the "Church" is the clergy and the laity are merely "sheep" for the clergy to herd. There is no open discussion on anything, it is a case of "my way, or the highway" on everything. If that is how you like your faith to be, then fine, go there, but I am very, very certain, that is NOT how Christ intended it to be.

Reading the comments of the pro-RCC commenters as they denigrate everything about everyone else's faith, but particularly the Anglican Churches, one could be forgiven for wondering which century they live in. Prime among their arguments at the moment is the validity of Anglican Ordination. According to one man who seems to spend all day digging around Wikipedia, the Anglican Church 'lost' the Apostolic Succession in its Episcopacy at the Reformation. His source is a Wiki article that points to the Anglo-Catholic Revival in the 19th Century where some, concerned at the suggestion that the 'touch of the Apostles' had been lost, invited some Dutch Old Catholic Bishops to take part in their consecrations. In fact, this article and the event it describes, is not the entire picture. Even after the Papal excommunication of all England, there were still some 36 Bishops in post who continued the traditions of ordination and consecration. Read the 1662 Prayer Book Ordination Services and you see this clearly.

Even during the abomination of the Puritan and Presbyterian years of the Commonwealth, Cromwells efforts to expunge the Bishopric from Anglican life failed. Enough bishops went into hiding and exile to preserve the Apostilic link to restore it to the church as it emerged from the excesses of the Puritans, Iconoclasts and Presbyterians. As the Presbyterian and Puritan grip slackened on the church (it still remains in the form of Parliament's having a say in its governance) the true 'Catholic' nature of the church was able to re-emerge. One of the ironies that seems to have escaped one of the more rabid RCC commenters, is that the Archdiocese of Sydney is trying to revert to the Puritan ideas of the 17th Century, yet this man holds it up as an example of the church as a "woman free church".

Rome insists that to become a valid Church the Anglicans MUST bow the knee to the Popes, accept all Roman dogma and doctrine and the revalidation of all the Ordinariate. The claims of 'superiority' all hinge on one line from the Gospel of St Mark (taken completely out of context since, if read with what goes before and after and in the context of all the other gospels it is clearly a reference to all the faithful) and what, in the Vulgate, is refered to as the "Synod of Jerusalem" in which James (The brother of Christ) expounds at length on how he will implement Peter's directives in 'his' See (Jerusalem). The fact there is no evidence whatsoever to suggest that any of the Apostles who out lived Peter, ever acknowledged his successor as exercising the authority they ascribe to Peter, is simply ignored or brushed aside.

The Dogma of Papal Infallibility is a major sticking point for many. In fact, it refers only to matters where the Pope speaks "ex-cathedra" and any such proclamation must pass three "tests". In fact it is usually a declaration made after years of preparation and study by a team set up for the purpose. It merely has the Pope's name on it. There are many arguments about where it originated, but the fact is that, as a 'dogma' it is of very recent date - the First Vatican Council in fact. I, for one, reject it as a doctrine or as a dogma, just as I reject utterly the claims to secular directions from the clergy. Yes, they are obliged (indeed, as a man in a Licensed ministry, I am as well) to point out error, and to give advice on ethics, morality and so on of various secular matters, but this must be limited. One has only to look at the abuse of power by RCC bishops and clergy throughout the centuries where they have had secular authority as well as sacred duties to see where that leads.

Ireland is only now emerging from the crushing yoke imposed by their Roman clergy and bishops who systematically abused their powers in orphangaes, care homes and 'correction' houses for unmarried girls. On the one hand the girls were punished for falling pregnant, and on the other women were prevented from reporting abuse, rape and the forcible removal of their offspring by the church. Yes, that's an encouraging record for a country that accepted the rule of the Roman Curia as trumping their own Parliament. Nor is this abuse an isolated case. One of the major reasons the English bishops went with Henry VIII when he broke with Rome was the abuse of the law. Clergy were not subject to the law of the land, and even murder could be committed with impunity, secure in the knowledge that, as a person subject to the 'Canon' law rather than the King's Justice' you would be secure in your monastery or carted off to Rome - the pepers conveniently lost on the way - to carry on as before. We have seen the echoes of this in the pedophile scandals that have rocked the RCC in almost every country in the last 20 yeasrs. The RCC knew what was happening, but refused to offer up the abusers to secular authorities and then victimised the victims by threatening them into silence.

Yes, the RCC and its authoritarian vision on the world and the faith is inspiring. Not. If it were as Christian as it claims to be it would embrace all those outside it, welcoming them to the sacraments, and not excluding them. It chooses to exclude - unless you bow the knee to the Pope. I therefore reject utterly it's claims of supremacy in matters of teaching any part of the faith I find in the Gospels. The Curia cannot shake off the abuses of power by the de Medici Popes, or the Borgias or a number of others. It cannot convince me that it has always held to the 'true' faith when at least three of the 4th Century Popes were Gnostics and followers of Arianism.

The current Bishop of Rome, Francis I, is a breath of fresh air. He refuses to live in the Imperial palace and stays in a Guest House, but he is surrounded by Cardinals, Archbishops and Bishops who do not share his vision, or share his ideals. These are the real 'powers' in Rome and it has nothing to do with "faith' and everything to do with "power" of a very secular kind. The situation here in Germany with the scandal unfolding in the Limburg Diocese is far more typical than the example of Francis. That saddens me. It also angers me when I am faced with arrogant assertions of Rome's holding the only valid authority to the Christian faith.

I hope and pray that Francis I will be protected by the Holy Spirit and be able to overthrow the Old Regime in Rome to make his church more inclusive and less elitist. I pray for it, but I doubt he will be allowed to. In the meantime I will continue to worship as an Old Catholic and Anglican wherever I find myself. My faith does not depend on the approval, or otherwise, of the Pope or any of his minions. It centres on Christ and God and the church provides me with a vehicle through which to grow in faith and to share that with others. Over the years I have learned not to say something will 'never' happen or that I will 'never' change my view, but this is one issue where it will take a revelation like that experienced by Saul of Tarsus on the road to Damascus.    

Wedding Sermon

From the Lesson: And now these three remain; faith, hope and charity, but the greatest of these is charity. (1 Corinthians 13: 13)

In 1940, the island of Malta was defended from the might of the Italian Air Force by three outdated Gloster Gladiator Biplanes from the Fleet Air Arm. Some wag had named them Faith, Hope and Charity. In faith and hope they daily joined battle with the overwhelming onslaught from the Italians, and daily were patched up and somehow kept flying. By the end of 1941 Faith was dismantled, Hope was no longer able to fly, but the parts salvaged from both kept Charity in the air, though now supported by modern Hurricanes and Spitfires. There is an interesting lesson for us all in that. Faith may waver, hope may fade, but it is love that keeps us going and often saves the other two. 

The 17th Century poet, theologian, philosopher and traveler, John Donne, wrote that 'no man is an island, entire of itself' and in one sense, he is right. None of us is complete on our own, we are always at our best, and sometimes at our worst, when we are in partnerships with one another. Yet, at the same time, we are all unique, individual, one of a kind, there is only ever one of me, or of you.

We are the product of our genes, our parents, our family relationships that form and make us through childhood, and to that must be added our experiences, every bump and knock, every painful rejection and every joyful acceptance. Every little triumph at work or at school, and everything we learn - or don't learn - from those with whom we interact on life's journey leaves its mark and influences the way in which we respond to every challenge, to the manner we tackle any task, to our choice of career and to each other.

What attracts two people to each other? A scientist may say it is the pheromones, a psychologist will say it is conditioning, a romantic may say it was Cupid and some may say it was 'fate'. As reader's of Sir Terry Pratchett's Discworld novels will know, it is probably all of those things, since there is a large element of chance involved in everything. It never fails to astonish me how quite often a casual encounter or conversation can lead someone  into a change of direction that completely alters their lives, and this is often true of successful and long lasting relationships.

According to Pratchett's philosophy, meeting each other and forming a lasting relationship is a million to one chance. And, as we all know, million to one chances come up nine times out of ten. Sometimes I have to admit he may have a point. Whether we call the meeting and the subsequent development of any relationship, be it marriage or simply lasting friendship, fate, chance, kismet or destiny, no relationship survives without mutual respect, consideration and the effort to make it work. If we do not make the effort, we cannot expect the other person to take the trouble to make it work either.

Donne's famous 'Mediation' spells out how we are all part of a greater whole, yet, function within it as individual components. That is especially true in a marriage, where both halves of the partnership must work together, share each others triumphs and tragedies and sometimes even 'carry' the other. Our language has, in recent years, been impoverished by the loss of the original meaning of the word 'charity' - the non-erotic form of 'love' that neither asks for reward, nor expects it, is always giving and in a real 'marriage' is always mutual - though it may take the day off occasionally. 

All of humanity lives with three key elements in our lives and relationships. The first is faith. We put our faith in many things, religious, scientific or ideological. Some of us fly aircraft where the entire airframe is attached to the rotating wing by a single bolt, and place a great deal of faith in the quality of the steel, the process of making it and the resistance to metal fatigue. We all have hope. We hope for stability, for love, friendship and fulfillment in our careers, our lives, our relationships. Hope is sometimes what lifts us through the difficult times and drives us forward to meet the challenges, climb the next hill, walk the difficult path or take the rickety bridge across the chasm. 

Finally there is love. Often we take it for granted, we shouldn't, but we do. Yet, as St Paul, a much more famous author than I, wrote, love is the greatest of all our human experience. When we love, we are at our spectacular best in everything.

So, as the small outnumbered and outgunned fighters defending Malta, were used to support each other and keep one flying, remember these three things. Keep faith in one another, even if in nothing else. Keep your hopes for each other, your family and yourselves, and let your faith in each other, and your hope for each other, support and maintain your love for each other.   

An Act of Defiance; Verdi's Requiem sung by the inmates of Terezin

Every now and then one stumbles across something so remarkable that it leaves one almost breathless. It can stop you in your tracks, and change the way you look at some aspect of society or even change your perspective on something, and a few days ago I read something that did just that. It was an account in the Huffington Post concerning the recent honouring of the memory of Rafael Schachter by the Czech Republic.

Who, you may ask, was Rafael Schachter? The answer is that he was a young Jewish composer and musician, and one of the 120,000 killed at the Terezin Concentration Camp for Jews set up by the Nazis. The why he was honoured is what stopped me in my tracks. This young man, driven by the lunacy around him, and probably by the knowledge of the fate awaiting him and everyone else in the Terezin Camp, trained and then led a choir of the inmates in a performance of Verdi's Requiem Mass.

It led Adolf Eichmann to exclaim, "These crazy Jews are singing their own Requiem!"

For those doing the singing it was many things. It was an act of defiant courage in that they knew what the Nazis intended their fate to be; it was an act of therapy as it took them out of this living death and into realms beyond, and it was an act of faith, even though it was the music and theology of Christianity and not Judaism.

Those who know Verdi's Requiem will also know that it is a monumental work. Complex, moving, magnificent and definitely not for the faint hearted to attempt to sing. Yet, as a survivor confirms, each line of the Mass conveyed a somewhat different meaning to the prisoners than it would mean to the ordinary listener. Hence its choice by Schachter who drove hundreds of his fellow prisoners to learn the parts by heart, working from a single score they had managed to smuggle into the camp. In all there were sixteen performances given, though, at first, the Nazis tried to suppress it, then used it as a propaganda tool. When the inmates were relocated, immediately after the last performance, to Auschwitz, Rafael Schachter was one of the first group sent directly to the gas chambers and killed. Of the 140,000 inmates, just 20,000 survived.

It is a fact that there were 350,000 Jews living in Czechoslovakia in 1939, today there are fewer than 10,000 in the Czech and Slovakian Republics.

An American conductor recently unearthed this incredible story, and, seventy years after the original, persuaded the Czech government, and the Roman Catholic Archbishopric, to stage a performance in the Dom of St Vitus. The audience included a handful of the survivors, now in the 90s, and the performance was supplemented by the screening of pieces of the propaganda films made by the Nazis to hide the genocide. By all reports, it was a moving experience for everyone, and I, for one, will never again hear the Verdi Requiem with quite the same understanding I had for the words of the tremendous prayers it launches in the music.

As the Requiem says so eloquently -

"O Lamb of God, that takest away the sins of the world, grant them eternal rest."

How fitting it should have been sung by the inmates of a Death Camp. By Jews destined for death to those who wished to exterminate them.

The Archbishop of Canterbury addresses the General Synod

Archbishop Justin of Canterbury is a man of undoubted faith and of vision. His address to the General Synod needs to be read and considered by everyone who calls themselves Christian, and they need to be considered carefully. I am taking the liberty of posting it here in its entirety. My source is the Archbishop's own website.

Archbishop Justin's presidential address at General Synod

Archbishop Justin at York Synod today. (Picture: Keith Blundy | Aegies Associates)

Friday 5th July 2013

In his first presidential address to General Synod in York today, Archbishop Justin called on the Church to engage with sweeping economic, political, social and cultural changes and "be the answer that God provides". Read the full text below 

Before I begin I would like to thank all the staff at Lambeth and around the NCIs, and at Bishopthorpe and the Anglican Communion Office, who have been so effective and kind in dealing with the frightening and unsettling impact of a new Archbishop. Transitions are always very complex, and taking on a new Archbishop is as demanding as it gets. But there’s invariably been a warm welcome and extremely hard work, for which I am extremely grateful. Chief amongst those who have led the way through the process is Chris Smith, the Chief of Staff at Lambeth. After more than ten years of faithful service, working night and day and every weekend – he’s the biggest menace to my capacity to have a quiet evening in on a Saturday night because I get an email from him – after more than ten years of never stopping he is moving on to other things later this year. His contribution has been largely behind the scenes, but he has served the Church of England and the Anglican Communion – not only for a long time but with huge effect – and our debt to him is more than we can imagine. So on your behalf I would like to thank him.

As you know too from public announcements, Bishop Nigel Stock, Bishop of St Edmundsbury and Ipswich, has with great generosity and considerable sacrifice, I’d imagine, agreed to become the Bishop at Lambeth, in a new configuration for the role, working alongside the new Chief of Staff. I could not be more grateful to have such a wise and experienced person, who will enable my many weaknesses to be compensated for more than adequately.

One of the things about this job is you tend to carry a lot of baggage – physical, metaphorical; probably more than I know. We arrived yesterday, the car having broken down en route – there’s a nasty metaphor there. But we did arrive – and we found ourselves with a ton of baggage to carry from one end of what seemed to be a much bigger campus than last year, to the other. And it reminded me – as I was staggering along with what seemed to be enough robes to rival Wippell’s – that we come to this session of Synod with a certain amount of baggage; and it’s good to find ways of getting rid of it. A friend of ours – of my wife and mine, from our days when we lived in Paris – worked for many years for an American company but living in Paris. We went to stay with them about six of seven years ago – he’s now ordained; there’s no connection – and he was still laughing about an experience at Kennedy airport the day before. It was a February and the weather in New York had been very bad, and he’d arrived and everyone was in a grump and the flights were late. And when he got one from the front of the check-in, the person in front of him was incredibly rude to the poor check-in operator. And John, our friend, is always gracious and polite, and when he got to the front he said, ‘I’m embarrassed to be a passenger when people treat you like that. I don’t know how you were so patient.’ And she said, ‘Well, sir. I shouldn’t really tell you this. There’s sort of bad news and good news. The bad news is he’s sitting next to you on the flight to New York. But the good news is I’ve sent his luggage to Tokyo.’

There are a number of obvious applications to that, one of which is we could do with some people like that at the beginning of a Synod session – for the baggage to go somewhere else.

You don’t want a lot of baggage in a revolution. And we live in a time of revolutions. And the trouble with revolutions is once they start no-one knows where they will go. Of the most serious type, the physical type, the practical type… Bishop Angaelos, Head of the Coptic Church in the UK, whom I met in Egypt last week, and who is sitting with us today, knows exactly about revolutions. While we were in Egypt, we heard much talk of what would happen this week – and we’ve seen. And the grace and leadership of Christians in that country is something to behold.  

But we live also in a time of many revolutions in this country. And as the Synod meets today, we are custodians of the gospel that transforms individuals, nations and societies. We are called by God to respond radically and imaginatively to new contexts – contexts that are set up by revolutions. I want to thank you, and to say what a privilege it is to share with you, in the ministry of shouldering the heavy burden of facing these changing contexts, and grappling with them in this Synod, now and over the years to come, and to thank you for your commitment in your work here you show to Jesus Christ and to His church. It is genuinely a privilege to be among you.

The revolutions are huge. The economic context and position of our country has changed, dramatically. With all parties committed to austerity for the foreseeable future, we have to recognise that the profound challenges of social need, food banks, credit injustice, gross differentiation of income – even in many areas of opportunity – pressure on all forms of state provision and spending: all these are here to stay. In and through the church we have the call and potentially the means to be the answer that God provides. As Pope Francis recalled so memorably, we are to be a poor church for the poor, however and wherever poverty is seen, materially or spiritually. That is a revolution. Being a poor church for the poor means both provision and also prophetic challenge in a country that is still able and has the resources to reduce inequality – especially inequality of opportunity and life expectancy. If you travel north from parts of Liverpool to Southport, you gain almost a year in life expectancy for every mile you travel. We are debating these questions in this Synod. But prophetic challenge needs reality as its foundation, or it is mere wishful thinking; and it needs provision as its companion, or it is merely shifting responsibility.

The social context is changing radically. There is a revolution. It may be, it was, that 59% of the population called themselves Christian at the last census, with 25% saying they had no faith. But the YouGov poll a couple of weeks back was the reverse, almost exactly, for those under 25. If we are not shaken by that, we are not listening.

The cultural and political ground is changing. There is a revolution. Anyone who listened, as I did, to much of the Same Sex Marriage Bill Second Reading Debate in the House of Lords could not fail to be struck by the overwhelming change of cultural hinterland. Predictable attitudes were no longer there. The opposition to the Bill, which included me and many other bishops, was utterly overwhelmed, with amongst the largest attendance in the House and participation in the debate, and majority, since 1945. There was noticeable hostility to the view of the churches. I am not proposing new policy, but what I felt then and feel now is that some of what was said by those supporting the bill was uncomfortably close to the bone. Lord Alli said that 97% of gay teenagers in this country report homophobic bullying. In the USA suicide as a result of such bullying is the principle cause of death of gay adolescents. One cannot sit and listen to that sort of reality without being appalled. We may or may not like it, but we must accept that there is a revolution in the area of sexuality, and we have not fully heard it.

The majority of the population rightly detests homophobic behaviour or anything that looks like it. And sometimes they look at us and see what they don’t like. I don’t like saying that. I’ve resisted that thought. But in that debate I heard it, and I could not walk away from it. We all know that it is utterly horrifying. to hear, as we did this week, of gay people executed in Iran for being gay, or equivalents elsewhere. With nearly a million children educated in our schools we not only must demonstrate a profound commitment to stamp out such stereotyping and bullying; but we must also take action. We are therefore developing a programme for use in our schools, taking the best advice we can find anywhere, that specifically targets such bullying. More than that, we need also to ensure that what we do and say in this Synod, as we debate these issues, demonstrates above all the lavish love of God to all of us, who are all without exception sinners. Again this requires radical and prophetic words which lavish gracious truth.

The three Quinquennial Goals of growing the church, contributing to the common good and reimagining ministry, are utterly suited to a time of revolution. They express confidence in the gospel. They force us to look afresh at all our structures, to reimagine ministry, whether it be the ministry of General Synod, or the parish church, or a great cathedral, or anything between all of those three. For that reimagination to be more than surface deep, we need a renewal of prayer and the Religious Life. That is the most essential emphasis in what I am hoping to do in my time in this role. And if you forget everything else I say, which you may well do – probably will do – please remember that. There has never been a renewal of church life in western Christianity without a renewal of prayer and Religious Communities, in some form or another, often different. It has been said that we can only imagine what is already in our minds as a possibility; and it is in prayer, individually and together, that God puts into our minds new possibilities of what the Church can be.

The Quinquennial Goals challenge our natural tendency to be inward looking, calling on us to serve the common good. That covers many areas, and between us all, not singly, we are able to face the challenge. May Synod rise to that. But the second of my personal emphases, within that goal, is reconciliation, within the church but most of all fulfilling our particular Anglican charism to be reconcilers in the world, in our communities, in families, even, dare I say it, amongst ourselves. Even if we do sometimes conduct our arguments at high volume and in public, to be reconcilers means enabling diversity to be lived out in love, resisting hatred of the other, demonisation of our opponents.  

The common good goes much further than that. Our unique presence across the country enables us to speak with authority both in parliament and here, and in every church and cathedral and synod and gathering place across the country. Our extraordinary presence across the world as Anglicans enables us to speak with intelligence from around the world. As Anglicans we are called to reconcile incredible differences of culture in over 150 countries. What an extraordinary heritage we have under God. So we seek to be renewed here and across the Communion, and to find the reconciling presence of God. This Synod meets in an era of revolution, but we have together the means and the courage to seize the opportunities that revolution brings.

The Quinquennial goals aim at spiritual and numerical growth in the church. That includes evangelism, the third of my emphases. The lead has been set by the Archbishop of York. Here again we need new imagination in evangelism through prayer, and a fierce determination not to let evangelism be squeezed off our agendas. At times I feel it’s rather like me when I have to write a difficult letter, or make an awkward phone call: even things like ironing my socks become more attractive. We treat evangelism too often in the same way. We will talk about anything, especially miscellaneous provisions measures after lunch on Sunday; and we struggle to fit in the call to be the good news in our times through Jesus Christ. The gospel of Jesus Christ is indeed THE good news for our times. God is always good news; we are the ones who make ourselves irrelevant when we are not good news. And when we are good news, God's people see growing churches.

Attitudes to hierarchy and authority have changed, and continue to change; there’s nothing new in that. And the more they do, the more we are perceived, often wrongly – but genuinely – to say one thing, about grace, community and inclusion, and do another.

And yet with all these revolutions, which raise such huge challenges to us in our lives as the Church, we see clearly that God is working a wonderful and marvelous revolution through the Church in the wind of the Spirit, blowing through our structures and ideas and imagination.
There is a new energy in ecumenism, not least shown by Pope Francis. There is a hunger for visible unity. Many churches across England are growing in depth and numbers. People are looking for answers in a time of hardship and when we show holy hospitality and the outflow of grace, we are full of people seeking us. There is every cause for hope. This Synod had a shock, depending on your view, good or bad, last November; but there is here assembled, in weakness or confidence, in all sorts of fear and lack of trust, people with the faith and wisdom who in grace will seek the way to the greater glory of God.

In some things we change course and recognise the new context. Revolutions change culture. In others we stand firm because truth is not set by culture, nor morals by fashion. But let us be clear, pretending that nothing has changed is absurd and impossible. In times of revolution we too in the church, in the Church of England, must have a revolution which enables us to live for the greater glory of God in the freedom which is the gift of Christ. We need not fear. The eternal God is our refuge and underneath are the everlasting arms.

There have been many times where the Church of England felt that change was in the air or this was a moment of crisis. Because we are not an organisation, let alone a business, or even an institution, but in reality the people of God gathered by the Holy Spirit to walk together in a way that leads to the greater glory of God, there are bound to be many crises and turning points.

So let us not imagine for one moment that because we are in revolutionary times what we are going through currently is either more dangerous, more difficult or more complicated than anything faced by the generations before us. We are in the hands of God; the eternal God is our refuge and underneath are the everlasting arms. We need not worry, but we must give all that we have and we are, for the uniquely great cause of the service of Jesus Christ.

So how we journey here is essential, and that is why during these next few days, certain things are being reimagined: not least what we do tomorrow. What is clear to all of us is that there exists, as we gather – and let’s be honest about it – a very significant absence of trust between different groups; and, it must be said – and the evidence of this is clear, though sad – an absence of trust towards the Bishops collectively.
One thing I am sure of is that trust is rebuilt and reconciliation happens when whatever we say, we do. For example, if, while doing what we believe is right for the full inclusion of women in the life of the church, we say that all are welcome whatever their views on that, all must be welcome in deed as well as in word. If we don’t mean it, please let us not say it. On the one hand there are horrendous accounts from women priests whose very humanity has sometimes seemed to be challenged. On the other side I recently heard a well-attested account of a meeting between a Diocesan Director of Ordinands and a candidate, who was told that if the DDO had known of the candidate’s views against the ordination of women earlier in the process he would never have been allowed to get as far as he did.

Both attitudes contradict the stated policy of the Church of England, of what we say, and are completely unacceptable. If the General Synod, if we decide, that we are not to be hospitable to some diversity of views, we need to say so bluntly and not mislead. If we say we will ordain women as priests and Bishops we must do so in exactly the same way as we ordain men. If we say that all are welcome even when they disagree, they must be welcome in spirit, in deed, as well as in word.

Lack of integrity and transparency poisons any hope of rebuilding trust, and rebuilding trust in the best of circumstances is going to be the work of years and even decades. There are no magic bullets.

So how we travel, and our capacity to differ without hating each other and to debate without dividing from each other, is crucial to the progress we make.

Integrity and transparency depend utterly on a corporate integrity and transparency before God, above all in our prayer and liturgy. I sometimes wonder if one of the drivers of our lack of trust is that we have lost from our experience and our expectation two of the great moods of liturgy: of lament and of celebration. The ability truly to lament, to rage at circumstances, at loss, at decline, at injustice, at our own sin or the problems we face, is one that enables us to find afresh the mercy and grace of God. Lament is a liturgical mood that builds our capacity to trust God in the face of change, and then we trust each other. Encountering the face of Jesus Christ in pain, grief or anger transforms us.

Equally the capacity to celebrate, to lift our hearts and voices in true and passionate praise and thanksgiving because the presence of God is known among, restores our perspective. Not only does it renew our faith and strengthen weary limbs in the long journey we are undertaking, but also the act of celebrating that which we share together cuts across our great barriers and difficulties. We celebrate because who can not be overwhelmed by the love of God?

Take for example the two Anglican Dioceses I saw a week ago in the Middle East, in Jerusalem and in Egypt. In the midst of terrible and confused situations, with unspeakable human suffering, tension and fear, they shine with brilliant light. And they are part of us. In each of them there is a profound commitment to the common good of the populations in which they live as a minority – populations of whatever faith and ethnicity. In each of them there are more schools, hospitals and clinics than there are churches. In each of them the Bishops have established confident and effective relationships with other churches, with Muslim leaders and with governments that enable them to speak frankly and truly and with great courage. And we need to remember that as what they do there affects us, lifts our hearts, shows us the grace and glory and power of God, even more so what we do here affects them and every other church in the Anglican Communion. We have great responsibilities.

We should do no less, be no less effective, no less bold than our brothers and sisters in Christ in those Dioceses; in Nigeria, in Pakistan, in places of persecution and suffering, of revolution, change and disruption. The eternal God is our refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms.

Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your people and kindle in them the fire of your love. AMEN.

- See more at: http://www.archbishopofcanterbury.org/articles.php/5098/archbishop-justins-presidential-address-at-general-synod#sthash.6XEDB9pl.dpuf

OK, I had to smile at this report ...

I'll admit it was an ironic smile, but still, it struck me as rather funny behaviour in a group that declares they don't believe in God, religion, or any form of Higher Power. Say what? Yes, the report in the Huffington Post says that a lot of Atheists pray. Under the title of "Atheist Prayer. Religious Activity Not Uncommon Among Non-Believers" the Huff Post reports on the interesting fact that many who claim to be atheists still resort to some forms of religious activity.

According to a survey reported in the Washington Post there are some 46 million people in the US (total population 349 million) who do not have any religious affiliation. This includes some 13 million who identify themselves as Atheists or Agnostics. According to the report a significant minority of those calling themselves Atheists 'pray' regularly, and the percentage is higher among Agnostics. It probably bears out my late grandfather's assertion from the First World War (he was seriously wounded on the first day of the Somme offensive and served the rest of the War in the Royal Garrison Artillery in various offensives along the Western Front) that "there are no Atheists in a shell hole or among the dying in the trenches."

It does smack of G K Chesterton's statement that the absence of faith does not mean an absence of belief. He added "it simply means they will believe in anything".

I confess that this report made me think of the retort made by an elderly priest I knew when he was confronted in a pub we had all resorted to after Evensong. The inebriated gentleman approached and loudly proclaimed himself an Atheist, saying, "I don't believe in any of this God nonsense - you lot are no better than anyone else." Our priest smiled sweetly offered the man a seat and replied, "You know, it's a funny thing, you're right about us, but, while you don't believe in God, He believes in you."

I think all of us go through periods when we look at what science is telling us and have our doubts about God. The thing is that when you look at what science can't explain, like how all the billions of atoms that make up the individual cells in our bodies take one form in us, another in other forms of life and even more miraculously actually manage to hold a shape and form, you have to ask some other questions. As the line from a show I recall from the 1970s on the Cosmos said, we are all made up of the dust of the stars. Fine, I don't have a problem with that, I know it to be true, because, under a microscope and in a laboratory with the right bits of kit, it can be demonstrated that my flesh and bone and even the liquid bits of me (around 80%) is composed of 'star dust'. And yes, we can say we believe it all holds together because of electronic and gravitational attractions between the atoms.

What we can't say is why one lump of 'star dust' is alive, and another inanimate.

As to the praying Atheists, I don't actually think God minds what the say they believe. He knows what they really do believe deep down, and when it suits Him, they'll probably get a surprise of the more pleasant kind. Keep praying people - it's good for you even if you aren't sure what or who is listening.

Inclusive salvation ...

Recently Pope Francis made a statement on 'salvation' which included the idea that even an atheist is 'saved' by the sacrifice of Christ on the cross. Probably predictably, this made headlines in a lot of newspapers, though some managed to do it in a rather sneering fashion. Equally predicatbly, the Vatican was quick to "qualify" the Pontiff's remark, part of a midweek Mass Homily.

The fact is that this concept of the sacrifice Christ made on the Cross is not something stunningly new. It is stated in the Gospels themselves, and repeated in the "Letters" in various forms. It even forms a part of the Creeds we recite from time to time. The idea that 'salvation' is restricted only to those who attend church, adhere to a particular set of theological doctrines or dogmas or to a particular 'Brand' of Christianity is false. It stems from the statement that we must 'accept' Christ's gift of the hope of eternal life in order to be saved. Many interpret that as meaning the 'acceptance' means belonging to this or that church, and adhering to its teachings. I suspect this is why the Vatican was so quick to issue its 'qualification'.

Reading the Gospels and the other scriptures carefully and in context with their time, the culture and the understanding that many things the writers considered the reader "would know" and were not therefore necessary to spell out (papyrus was expnsive so you didn't waste it on unnecessary details) you quickly discover that the message is very "inclusive" - at times the disciples found that hard to accept. The clearest message of that 'inclusion' is in the fact that Jesus often went out of his way to find and associate with people shunned by the religious and very self-righteous members of the communities He worked in. Hence his sitting down to eat with tax gatherers, prostitutes, Samaritans and other 'unclean' members of society. Even with Gentiles - at that time pagan, and definitely not welcome in most Jewish homes.

We do not know who God includes or who He excludes. We cannot know this, nor should we attempt to make that call. To do so puts us in the same league as the Pharisees who thought they could earn God's approval by their strict adherence to the "Law of Moses" - in fact a massively complex set of "laws" evolved over several centuries from the Ten Commandments. Under their idea of faith and salvation, very few would make it to heaven. The key words on "salvation" come from Christ Himself at the Last Supper -

"... take and eat; for this is my body which is broken for you. Do this in remembrance of me." Followed by "... He gave it (the cup) to them saying: drink this all of you, for this is my blood of the new covenant, which is shed for you and for many (some translations make that the more accurate "everyone") for the forgiveness of sins."

None of the gospels add a qualification of exclusion of anyone not a follower of the disciples or not present at this meal. In fact there is a very strong theme of inclusion in the Gospels which suggests that even those guilty of the most heinous crimes against their fellows could be 'included' in salvation if - and here there is a 'qualifier' - they 'turn to Christ' and 'repent' of their crimes. In most cases only God the Father, Christ and the Holy Spirit can know who has and has not 'repented'. It simply is not for us to know.

So Pope Francis I is stating nothing radical in saying that Christ included even those who do not 'believe' in God in salvation. Only He can know what passes between Him and the person in those final hours of this life, and it is for us to accept - whether we like it or not. As Jonah discovered when having his monumental sulk because God chose not to destroy Nineveh when the people repented. It is not for us to question our Creator and Saviour - He is who He is, what He is, and where He is and we are His creation ...

He is Risen ...

Our day started this morning at 04.00 as we had to be at our church in Wiesbaden at 05.30 to prepare the Paschal Fire. The service commenced at 06.00 with the blessing and lighting, from the fire, of the Paschal Candle which will now burn through the coming year at our services. The Eucharist that followed celebrates the empty tomb and the hope it brings to all of us that death is but a gate, a transition to our own resurrection in due time.

As always the Eucharist ends with the great Easter Proclamation. "Christ is Risen!" and answered with the congregational response, "He is Risen indeed."

In our community we enjoy a shared breakfast at tables set along the central aisle, and enjoy the fellowship of a shared meal, each member contributing something. It is a great way to celebrate the central part of our faith.

Happy Easter to all my readers.

The Church and Relevance ...

I found a very good article on Bishop Nicholas Baines' blog on Good Friday. His comments on the manner in which the UK media choose to attack the Church at Easter are, in my view, very 'relevant.' I therefore commend to my readers the Bishop's post.

In our present times, 'relevance' seems to mean whatever the latest pressure group, or the latest fashion in political correctness may be. There is seldom any consideration of the deeper issues involved or of the consequences. The media claim to be 'following' 'public opion' in much of thise, yet, at the same time, also claim to 'form' it.

The question therefore is not 'is the Church relevant,' but who is making that determination of 'relevance?' I would suggest that it is not the 'public' but a rather smaller group whose opinions are written and promoted in the 'media' and which the 'public' take as being 'fact.'

For me the question when any change is suggested to my understanding of doctrine, scripture or practice is this. What would Christ say? That is all that is 'relevant.' I may not like the answer either ...

Karfreitag ...

That's Good Friday to the English speaking world. We've just come home from our Good Friday Devotion at the Friedenskirch in Wiesbaden, and, as ever, it is moving and thought provoking. Last night's Maundy Thursday Eucharist was celebrated with the congregation seated round a table with the Host being passed from one to another with the words "Christi; Brot des lebens" and the wine was passed in jugs so that each person poured a small cupful for themselves. Again, the passing of the wine is accompanied by the words, "Christi; Kelch des Heiles."

Today's service, in complete contrast, took us through an abridged 'Stations of the Cross' with hymns and prayers between each. At the conclusion of the Stations each member of the congregation laid a small stone at the foot of the crucifix and spent a few moments in prayer and reflection at the foot of the Cross. Once again, the service is very moving and very reflective.

Harry accompanies us to church, unusual in Germany, but quite common in the UK and certainly in the Abbey. It has fascinated the congregation that he makes himself comfortable at our feet and watches the people arive, then settles to sleep as soon as the service starts. He seems to enjoy the organ and the singing and as long as he is with us and can see us, he's happy. The children in the congregation think it's great and make a fuss of him as soon as the service ends.

Somehow his presence adds, for me at least, a little touch of the real world and all God's creatures being present in worship. I find that comforting and humbling.

Maundy Thursday ...

As I sit to write this post, my former colleagues in ministry will be assembling in Gloucester Cathedral for the annual rededication of clergy and the Blessing and Consecration of the Chrism and Holy Oils. It used to be something I looked forward to every year, but it was also a bittersweet event for me. Traditionally the day marks the start of Easter, with the commemoration of the Last Supper of Christ, his retiring to the Garden of Gethsemane and betrayal by Judas Iscariot.

In the Anglican tradition the Eucharist is held in the evening and is, in fact, the starting point of a three day liturgy. At the end of the evening's service, the Ciborium is carried to a chapel, decorated as a garden, and left there for the Vigil which will last through the night until the start of the Good Friday Solemn Liturgy. Once the consecrated elements have been removed to the chapel, the High Altar (and any other chapels) are stripped of all decoration and the clergy, servers and other ministers leave quietly and without fuss, leaving the sanctuary bare of all adornment. It is an incredibly moving moment and one I have been a part of for many years, in different Parishes and in many roles.

I no longer have a 'ministery' role, my current spiritual home is a much smaller congregation, and a different liturgical tradition, and there is no role for 'Readers.' That is the Ministry I exercised sometimes with encouragement, and sometimes under tolerance, for a little over 30 years in the Anglican Church in South Africa and then in England. It is a somewhat strange ministry, since the role you are permitted depends very much on the Incumbent of the Parish.

Reflecting on that I realised why the Maundy Thursday Rededication was so 'bittersweet' for me. As a Reader one is always a second class minister. In English Law you are regarded as 'clergy' and even under some of the Canon Law of the Church of England you may be treated as 'clergy,' but in ministry you are most definitely not. While one Parish Incumbent may welcome a Reader and treat them as a de facto Deacon, another will not and may even insist on allowing the Reader only to preach, and then only if the sermon and the subject have been vetted and approved. The Maundy Thursday service tended to reinforce that for me, especially in the latter years of my service to a small village church and then the Abbey, as I had to stand by and watch as other Readers were eased into ordination. Yet, whenever I raised the possibility of exploring it, there always seemed to be a stumbling block. At first it was my wife's desire not to be a 'vicar's wife' and then it was the fact I was divorced.

It was often painful to watch others being joyfully ordained, or welcomed at the Maundy Service, while I remained in a limited ministry excluded by the difference between a 'licence' to minister, and being 'ordained' to do almost the same things. I expect, to some reading this, it will sound like 'sour grapes' and to an extent I suppose it is. It has certainly been spiritually very painful, since, from the very first, I have felt 'called' and three Bishops in South Africa certainly felt it was a genuine call. Sadly family problems prevented me following that path before my marriage, and later, it would not have been acceptable to my wife. The eventual divorce placed an automatic 'bar' on it - until the Canon Law was changed as a result of the ordination of women for whom the 'bar' did not apply.

At every parish I served, I was lucky enough to be treated, by the incumbent, as their liturgical Deacon and it was a huge privilege to serve in that role. I was encouraged to widen the ministry as far I could, given that I had a fulltime job and family. When I moved to Tewkesbury, however, it was different. At first I was allowed to preach, and not much more. I joined the Server Team as a result and tried to build a ministry through that office, but then came a 'Vacancy in Cure'. Suddenly the Readers were much in demand. Suddenly I was being 'trusted' with Reservation of the Sacrament as the Sub Deacon of the Mass and the role widened as I was called upon to 'Deacon' the Parish Eucharist and even allowed to lead Evensong, all functions previously 'reserved' for ordained clergy only.

With the appointment of the new incumbent, the role of the Readers remained as it had become in the Vacancy, but here there was a new twist. Some members of the congregation campaigned tirelessly to have Readers excluded from Administration of the Sacraments, some even refused to receive the elements from a "Layman" as they termed us. The new incumbent certainly resisted that, but it blighted any widening of our liturgical ministry. We were 'good enough' to be 'deacon' for the Parish Eucharist, but not for the Sung Eucharist. With one of our number now being ordained, another exploring it and one, in training, converted directly to 'ordained' status, I found myself once again being sidelined. Yes, I was exercising a 'new' ministry as Church Warden, but it was not, and is not, a role I either wanted or enjoyed. It did give me the opportunity to once again raise the issue of going forward for ordination myself (another Reader had already been approved for it) and so began a long drawn out process toward getting to attend a Selection Conference.

They say the mills of God grind slowly, I think the Church of England can probably do it even slower. In the time it took for the various 'background checks,' references and numerous discussions, meetings and reviews, I had retired, set up my own business and eventually 'retired' as Church Warden. A spell abroad (a man has to pay the bills even if he's retired), took me off the Ministry Roster long enough to become someone who 'may be called upon in emergency only' and essentially I found myself more or less a 'ghost at the feast.' All the focus was now on training several former Readers to be priests - and I certainly wasn't among the 'select.' Yes, I do say this with some bitterness, for most of my ministry I have taken out communion to the sick and to the remote where no priest could be sent. I have filled the gaps when there were no clergy available and I have ministered to the troubled, to children in need, to mourners and the dying. But, for the last year of my Reader Ministry, I actually felt as if I was being a nuisance just being there. I was clearly no longer part of the team, and apparently causing a problem somewhere in the system by trying to explore ordination selection.

Yes, at the eleventh hour, I got an interview with the Bishop, and approval to go forward to a Selection Conference, but I couldn't escape the feeling that it was a reluctant approval at best. In the end, I withdrew my application as I had, after a great deal of prayer, decided that I could not give up the opportunity to marry the woman for whom I feel nothing but love. So I will not, in this life, fulfill the Call to ordination.

It saddens me that I will never have the opportunity to serve my God as a priest. It saddens me even more that I can feel that the ministry I did offer and give for almost 30 years, 11 at the Abbey, should have just quietly 'run into the sands' as it did. So, while I wish it could be different, I have to accept yet another 'changing season' and move on. I hope though, that any friends at the Abbey who read this (or from any other parish in which I have had the privilege of ministry) will remain in touch and remain friends. They more than anything else, made it all worth doing, and I will be thinking of them as I celebrate "Gruendonnerstag, Karfreitag and Ostern among my new friends here in Germany.