Formative places, formative people

It's been great during sabbatical to reconnect with many thing not least myself! I've had space and time to see friends and visit a few places that are special to me. I'm currently sat in a little room at Alton Abbey somewhere I've known and loved most of my life. I was reminded by one of the monks that when he first came to the community I was just 8; around that time I used to say when I grow up I either want to be a punk or a monk! My visits here go back to my early years and certainly its been a formative place for me. I sometimes joke to people I've spent about a year in a monastery just in little chunks... The community here have been a real formative presence on my life and my faith (especially those who have been here for many years including my adopted uncle 'Unc the Monk' as we affectionately call him). My upbringing in a low church Methodist family was broadened so much by this community whose worship and life is so different than that I saw week by week in my home church. There is much in the worship here which remains 'strange' to me by that I mean that which I do not own as my own tradition, yet it speaks to me and has affected my faith and life. Hospitality, unconditional love, humour, liturgy, order, silence...
   I have learnt and gained so much here and the monastic community have helped form me in the person I am (and continue to become).

Whilst staying here I've also taken the opportunity of heading to my home city Portsmouth for a brief overnight stay with a good friend and a meal out with two more friends as well. Geography makes it difficult to meet many of my friends regularly, a sadness of life in this transient life many people now live. The experience of returning to my home city is always a little odd not least because so much has changed (I sound old now). The familiarity of some key places remain though and as I drove and walked round the city memories and experiences welled up within me, the theatre on whose stage I used to perform, the pub where I went on the night of my 18th birthday, the church I attended, the house where I lived, the hill we used to sledge... The place and more importantly the people I knew have helped mould and shape me, just as our experiences through life continue to do, yet the Abbey and my time in Portsmouth have a particular importance for they were my 'formative years'. I don't think I realise how much I owe to them, as I sit and type my eyes are full with thankfulness. I'm sorry its taken me so long to return to the Abbey to stay, I know for certain it won't be as long till my next visit and Portsmouth's due another visit soon too!

Death.. the other side

Death... the other side

Part of the natural created order we live with is the cycle of life and death, we tend however to focus on the life bit (understandably). In Western Europe we try and ignore or at least not talk about death and I think our life and living is actually the poorer of it. 

As part of my sabbatical plans I had the idea of spending some time with some funeral directors, a large part of my work/ministry has been dealing with death but only really one aspect of it and certainly one side of preparation for funerals.... So today I've spent the day with a local independent funeral director company (not that many of them left, most are now part of big companies even if still trading under a 'family name'!) I've spent the day seeing the other side - not the eternal mystery of the life after this one but the other side of preparing to say farewell to those we have loved and the care of the final physical remains; our human bodies.

So today I've been with the dead in a very real sense, observing and in small ways assisting in the care and preparation for viewing/saying farewell and cremation (along with all the practicalities that go with the business - I didn't get put to work washing the cars!). I want briefly to pay tribute to the care and respect that is shown to those who are deceased. Having said that there are some aspects of death that are not dignified or pleasant (don't worry I'm not going into detail!) and if ever you meet a funeral director you will very likely discover a wicked sense of humour that helps them cope with these things. What I took particular note of today was the naturalness and ease with which the staff undertook their tasks. Death is naturally an important and close part of the their life but the reality is that it is for all of us, we just don't choose to admit it most of the time.

Some of the most moving, challenging and uplifting funerals I have had the privilege to share in have been from the Afro-Caribbean community, a community who seem to have a far healthier and natural understanding of the cycle of life and death. Death is something that is marked with great celebration and on the whole embraced. I'm not looking forward to dying, not many people are but my faith gives hope for life beyond this one and the knowledge that from death comes new life. I understand deep down that death is a natural process and nothing will stop that, I wonder if we embrace that more fully how much more we can live in the moment?

The Search For A Superstar

Ok so its probably about time I put some thoughts together following the recent search for Jesus - that's the superstar variety from Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical.  I've been fairly hooked by the latest television search for the next musical star the search has added layers and meanings for me and I guess for many others as its not just any part but the part of 'Jesus' that is up for grabs. On Saturday night the Superstar programme ended with 'The Lord' (Webber) saying:

'Who are the viewing public at home going to think is Jesus?'

Obviously it is a fairly simple question, in terms of the programme it could be put  in other words  'who will win'? But for me it set my mind racing and the conversation I overheard in the pub over lunch just added to it: 'oh I liked the blonde one he looks right to me'... and so it goes on. Certainly in Western Europe (and sadly in much of the rest of the world) for many generations Jesus has been painted as a white European even though its hard to find anything historically or theologically to back this view up. The great website rejesus has a lovely collection of different images of Jesus and goes into the story behind them. I've had great conversations with people over the years using a collection of images of Jesus from different cultural contexts - I'm certainly personally fairly open as to what Jesus might of looked like and obviously the simple answer is we don't know. The deeper question is though who do people think Jesus is?

As someone who has committed my working life to an outworking of a belief and following of Jesus in Christian ministry I suppose some might think I can offer a nice simple answer to who is Jesus - well I could to a point... but it would only be part of the picture and certainly it would be my take on a subject that has extended theologians, historians and many others over the years. Part of my simple response would be to say Jesus inspires and excites me so much that I want to learn more and seek to follow him, I seek to learn from his teachings and use them to help shape my living (In Christian language my discipleship). But for me I wouldn't for one minute claim to be able  to adequately answer in a full sense 'who is Jesus'

I may have my favourite Jesus in the superstar programme (there's a few I like) but I don't think they are Jesus or are even necessarily physically like him. I hope that through the glitter of the programme the question of who is Jesus might inspire and challenge them to give it some thought and maybe set of an interest in exploring who Jesus is... I've found it a great exploration (so far in my life) and I'm certain my answer to the question will continue to change and evolve over the years and I'm sure my life and my living will be all the better for it.

And so the search goes on...

Picture updates...

A Few images as way of an update these are chosen more for their context and story than their photographic quality. (Thanks to Kev Baldry for the pictures of the Olympic Torch.)

The pictures include some geocaching adventures, watching the de-rigging of a forest concert we went to in Cannock Chase where as before we chilled with the other local residence the deer! a little Robin has really made him/herself at home in the garden especially when I was tidying up after the unexpected increase in size of the veg patch due to a fallen down tree! (There's lots more I've been up to but pictures of hospitals, reading, the school run and wet arts events are not really that exciting)

“Blessed are the cracked, for they shall let in the light.” Groucho Marx

“Blessed are the cracked, for they shall let in the light.”so states a post card on a special little room I have the privileged of visiting to share time with a very wise man who knows so much about brokenness and light, wholeness, pain and joy. The quote (according to Google) comes originally from Groucho Marx but apparently can also be found in Michael Arditti's novel "The Celibate" as a new beatitude thought up by an ordinand in a seminary as well as in Leonard Cohen's song 'Anthem'. Whatever its origins for some time I've found it a powerful (and smile educing) quote but haven't taken that long to reflect upon it...

During the solas festival I recalled it as I heard John Bell sharing some thoughts about the imperfections of creation and pointing to the fact that even in the story of creation in Genesis God does not look on the world and say ''it is perfect God say it is 'good' and it is 'very good'. He reminded us that people living on a fault line know only too well that creation isn't perfect. For some looking at creation points to God and some will look for the perfection in creation to look to the perfection in God but it just isn't so. But for me the brokenness of creation also somehow points to God, it casts a different light on things...

closer to home I've been doing some thinking and reflecting on things that are not perfect in my life (I need longer than a sabbatical for that!) and in particular the imperfections in relationships with others and my high expectations and values and how drawn to the negative I get when these are not met.... I often seem to notice the brokenness but fail to spot the light,  I fail to see the light in the cracks.

For some years I have had a recurring problem with my arm and neck and having been round some many NHS circles that I decided (well Sarah practically told me) to try a different route, I contacted a local chiropractor who did an initial assessment and treatment, she explained the holistic theory behind the practice stating that 'we believe the body has all the abilities it needs to self heal but sometimes there are blocks which stop that from happening, the chiropractor's job is to help unblock the body's potential for self healing' (I paraphrase a little) now the medics out there might disagree and I don't swallow that whole but it was again a reminder of the wonders of our created bodies and reminded me of these ancient words from the Psalms:

'I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
    your works are wonderful,
    I know that full well.'

Psalm 139:14 New International Version (NIV)

In our brokenness do we still recognise that we are fearfully and wonderfully made?

          I wonder if we see the light through the cracks?

                In our constant searching for perfection and wholeness do we fail to learn from our imperfection? 

I'm still chewing this one and maybe for some time...