PRIESTLY PONDERING'S (1) - Being beneath the role

This is also available via YouTube:  https://youtu.be/Mk6GeJHV64g

In 2018 I wrote Enfolded in Christ: the inner life of a priest, and it’s been suggested I might offer some further thoughts arising from that, or from my second: The Mystery of Faith: Exploring Christian belief.  So, as we’re in a world-wide crisis at present, I thought I’d go back to something I wrote in chapter nine of ‘Enfolded’ because I think it speaks into something a number of priests might be experiencing.  It’s headed: Beneath the Role and is part of a section on ‘Being in Christ’:

‘While (the) desire for union with Christ is at the heart of our (priestly) calling, I’ve noticed, in directing clergy, that many find it easier to talk about roles and responsibilities. Although ministry may form the expression of our vocation, it’s not its essence, for that can only be found as ‘Cor ad cor loquitur’ – heart speaks to heart.  Vocation concerns the heart of being which our actions express. The demands of ministry can overbalance the call to intimacy and relationship just as doing can easily replace being in our desire for meaning. And while this isn’t unique to priesthood, unless our vocation is rooted in the desire for union with Christ, sooner or later it will wither – and may die.’

Now I’m not suggesting that your spiritual life has died or even withered, but I’ve noticed the way the present coronavirus crisis is causing some clergy to feel a bit lost – or depressed.  Many of the norms which accompany ministry have gone: ‘no church and no congregation’ is causing them to wonder what they’re meant to be doing.  We look at what the media focuses on – doctors and nurses caring for the sick and dying, food banks providing help for those in poverty and people hard at work raising funds for charities and we can easily begin to feel inadequate, or even guilty.  Many people have begun living in ‘virtual reality’ offering online parties and games, and some clergy are turning to the internet to broadcast services.  And whilst much of what’s appearing is helpful, I wonder – I just wonder – if we might be missing something…  If every crisis provides an opportunity, what might this one offer?  What might God be saying to us through it?

One of the reasons, as I mentioned, for writing Enfolded was because I sensed that many clergy live out of their role, something which can easily begin to take over from our vocation.   Many have become very proficient in what they do; they work hard, and their ministry is greatly valued.  But now much of that role seems to have been side-lined.  A century or so ago it was clergy and religious who nursed the sick – Florence Nightingale turned to the emerging Anglican Religious Orders to work in the Crimea, and priests cared for victims of cholera in the slums of 19^th cent. cities, gaining for them the name, ‘Father’.  Now it can feel as if we’re not needed. Yet, many are doing valiant, if hidden, work supporting congregations, helping organise Food Banks and so on.  But the fact that the Archbishops have ‘banned’ clergy from entering their churches to live-stream liturgies feels as if it’s undermined something of great importance and has hit many hard.

I’m one of those who no longer have a parish, or any ‘official’ ministry, and recall the way I, like others, suddenly felt an utter sense of lostness when that came to an end.  My identity as a parish priest had gone, and I suddenly had no idea what meaning life had for me. T. S. Eliot words, in his Four Quartets, captures something of the feeling I had:

‘ … as, when an underground train, in the tube, 
stops too long between stations

And the conversation rises and slowly fades into silence

And you see behind every face the mental emptiness deeper

Leaving only the growing terror of nothing to think about … ‘ (East Coker, III)

That, of course, can be a feeling anyone can have when their job comes to an end – as has happened to thousands of people as a result of the ‘lockdown’ we’re going through.  So, my first reflection is that priests may be sharing the same feelings as many of their parishioners: this loss means we can identify with millions of others.  Like Christ, some of us have suddenly descended into the experience of many – have entered a wilderness that seems endless.  Into a darkness that can be depressive.

Now one of the things I notice about the account of Christ in the Desert is that the first Temptation which came his way was to turn stones into bread; and I then hear his response: “One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God” (Matt. 4.4).  What might that be saying to the noble attempts of many to offer ‘virtual’ liturgies replicating, as best we can, what happens in church?  If every crisis offers opportunities, what might this crisis offer those who have a responsibility to nurture the spiritual lives of people?  Those who stand at the threshold of heaven?  Of course, many find satisfaction through the familiar and some, consequently, will encounter ‘church’ via the internet for the first time.  But are we missing something? 

In what we call the ‘spiritual life’ there’s a clear correlation between the wilderness and the monastic cell.  You probably know that saying of the 4^th cent. Desert Father, Abba Moses: “Go, sit in your cell, and your cell will teach you everything.”  In a world where many feel lost, might the most important thing we have to share be that simple piece of teaching?  If you’re finding life difficult at present, don’t go looking for distractions – virtual games and sports, chat rooms and so on.  Simply stay in that place of emptiness and listen to what it might teach you – you may never have another opportunity to learn what this solitude, this enforced ‘retreat’ might offer.  And that, of course, means clergy need to do just that.  As Eliot said:

                            ‘I said to my soul, be still, 
                            and let the darkness come upon you

                            Which shall be the darkness of God.’ (East Coker, III)

That darkness, of course, can feel very dark – a darkness which can feel hellish.  And I’m reminded that Christ entered that darkness on Holy Saturday with the light of the Resurrection – and I want to consider that on another occasion because it is of such importance, yet often ignored.  For now, let’s consider the difference between that feeling of loneliness and the awareness of being alone.  Feeling lonely is about isolation, whereas being alone concerns realising in in-depth at-one-ness with all things.  Just listen to these words of Mother Mary Clare of the Sisters of the Love of God at Fairacres from their pamphlet, Aloneness Not Loneliness:

‘Like the solitary sailor, we deliberately choose our aloneness as part of a personal quest.  We are people engaged on a search.  It is always a search for God, but it is also a quest that brings us to a place of exposure to a deep, heart-searching, listening awareness of the fundamental, crying need of the world.  This is precisely the monk’s or nun’s chief service to humanity.  In aloneness we learn to share in a basic way in the emptiness and lostness that people today often know but also often tried to block out and ignore. … It is essential that we realise the intensely positive use and value of being alone and trying to stop being frightened at the very negative reaction or feeling lonely.’  (Fairacres Pubs. FP002)

I wonder if one of the most important things clergy can do at this time – at any time – is not only to be open to and aware of that basic emptiness and lost-ness, but to encourage people not to run from that primary human condition, the calling to and of God deep within their deepest self – the soul.  Rather than offering people religious ‘distractions’ isn’t one of our primary tasks to enable people to realise they’re called to enter the depths of their being?  Instead of just streaming services, might we also address this primary experience which so many are having but can’t make sense of or seek to avoid – aloneness?  Only the church can do that – the media have no understanding of the deeper reaches of our common humanity.  Doesn’t this crisis offer an opportunity – hopefully, one that won’t be repeated for a long time, but one we need to grasp – the opportunity to encounter ourselves in a creative way.  And to encounter God.   

So, use this time to create a fresh rhythm of prayer.  Make sure you’re having a day offline from time to time – now’s a wonderful opportunity to take an at-home Quiet Day where you can focus on prayer and meditation, a solitary walk and a little light reading. And, if you haven’t already, make sure the Blessed Sacrament is kept in a worthy place at home, a place you can ‘visit’ each day where you can be still before the Lord.  Let’s discover what this time has to offer so we can share with others from our experience.

Do you remember the way, also in 2018, that a group of boys became trapped in a cave system in Thailand for over a fortnight?  Their leader, a former Buddhist monk, led them in various meditation practices which helped them cope with their enforced isolation and kept them sane.  It’s clear many people at present are experiencing great anxiety, and whilst Christian meditation is primarily concerned with opening the eye of the heart to God, it has also been shown to be of great help in addressing anxiety and stress which can lead to depression.  I realise meditation might be difficult if you sense you’re extraverted – you may be finding the loss of human interaction really painful.  But, maybe, this is an opportunity to give attention to your inner life – and to teach others the importance of these practices.  

In a society which judges the church by what it can be seen to do, its actions, might God be offering us an opportunity to reach out to others from the hidden wisdom of our tradition – of the contemplative way?  Might this be a time when we remind the world it has a forgotten soul which needs nurturing?  Isn’t that the meaning behind our role?  Rather than this being a time when the church hardly seems needed, maybe it’s a time when we’re needed even more – we just need to realise what we have and find ways of sharing it with others. 

I said to my soul be still, and wait without hope

For hope would be hope for the wrong thing;

wait without love

For love would be love of the wrong thing;

there is yet faith

But the faith and the love and the hope 
       are all in the waiting.

Wait without thought, 
       for you are not ready for thought:

So the darkness shall be the light, 
       and the stillness the dancing.  (East Coker III)

John-Francis Friendship

April 17^th, 2020

‘RELIGION IS JUST A CRUTCH…’

It’s not uncommon for someone objecting to their partner going to church or attending Mass or say that those who do so are looking for a ‘crutch’ or that religion is a way of avoiding relationships.  It can be very painful to hear that said and can cause real difficulties for anyone who wants to grow in their faith and begins to sense that, to do so, they need the company of others. 

Like the Judaism from which it emerged, Christianity isn’t a solitary religion.  As with many other animals we’re designed to be relational beings – we live in societies; grow through relationships and discover who we are as we encounter others.  But like other religions Christianity goes further, it points out that in order to be fully human we need to be in relationship with something greater than ourselves – with God.  Our need to ‘go to church’ is an aspect of the realisation that, in order to grow, we desire to be with others as they seek God – is that a ‘crutch’?  If it is, then it’s one most of us need, for in order to be myself I need to be in relationship with you, or as one philosopher maintained ¹ – every ‘I’ needs a ‘Thou’ in order to find meaning.  We need to be in ever-deepening relationship.

Some use the church, the People of God, as a means of developing those meaningful relationships when, for good reasons, no other way seems possible and Christians are found to be welcoming, accepting and inclusive.  Sadly, a few look to certain churches to support their prejudices.  Some partners might feel ‘church’ is a threat to their relationship and there are, indeed, those who become too involved and distant from their partner.  But in a similar way, friendships, even hobbies, can either be nurturing of a relationship – we enjoy the company of friends and need to have our own independently of partners – or they can become an escape. 

I need a crutch

I don’t mind admitting that I need a crutch.  I know I’m broken, not whole – are any of us?  I know I need people to help me become the person I’m meant to be; need people who love me, people who will encourage and enable me to grow.   In so many ways life wounds all of us and we need those who will help us heal and become whole.  No one is perfect.  Many are prepared to accept that they are enslaved and need a rescuer – a saviour, a Power greater than themselves to whom they can turn for help in this matter of becoming whole and growing into the fullness of our potential.  Christianity says that we have a godly identity that needs nurturing so we can grow beyond the limits of the self.

In all this the individual seeker, wanting to grow in their faith, beginning to sense that they need to do so in company with others, will need to be sensitive to the feelings of their partner, making sure that they are giving enough ‘quality time’ to them.  For growth in relationship with the God we have not seen is tested by our relationship with those amongst whom we live (1 John 4.20f). 

Growing beyond the church

But this need to be part of the church is only one step along the way and we are not to get stuck.  The point of ‘church’ is not, in the end, to provide friends but to belong to a community of those on a journey into God.  The journey we’re called to make can be hard to undertake alone and we can cease exploring and settle down into a comfortable place and take the eye of our heart off the goal.  ‘Church’ is where we gather to encounter the mystery of God, the Body of Christ on earth – and in heaven.  To be baptised into that Body is to be one with saints and angels ‘standing around the throne of God’. 

Perhaps we might give attention to going to Mass rather than ‘going to church’ – going to that celebration in which we seek to be open to the activity of God in word, sacrament and through the body of believers both seen and unseen.  As with the first Christians, we’re called into relationship with God in Christ through attending the Eucharist – and then living out of that relationship and seeking to deepen it through our personal daily prayer, acts of loving kindness, listening to God’s constant call that our heart might reflect His – and deepening our love for those to whom we are committed.

Imprisoned but not alone

There will always be those who, for whatever reason, cannot ‘go to church’.  The housebound through sickness or age; those unable to feel they can ‘belong’; those denied the opportunity because of their circumstances or because they are forbidden.  And there will be those imprisoned.  Back in the 16^th century the great Carmelite mystic, S. John of the Cross ², was cast into a tiny prison cell by his brothers because they objected to the reforms he wanted to make to their Order.  He spent eight months in appalling conditions, yet this was the means for him to compose some of the greatest mystical poetry.  Instead of making him bitter and angry the very privations he experienced were the means for him to escape by way of love.  Drawing on the biblical Song of Songs his heart sang in the darkness as he sought the One he loved:

                          Upon a gloomy night,

                                    With all my cares to loving ardours flushed,

                                    (O venture of delight!)

                                    With nobody in sight

                                    I went abroad when all my house was hushed. ³

Even when denied the company of others, he found a way of reading the Divine Office and, in the darkness, meditating on the love of God so that his heart was open to the movement of the Spirit and he was united with his beloved.  Today we have Apps to help us! ⁴

We must pray for our partners, that they will also be open to God; show that our faith is deepening our love for them, and be prepared to explain that ‘going to church’ helps us develop our desire to be more fully human – more fully the person I am meant to be – and then pray that our hearts might be open to that Love which gives life to the world.

_________________________________________

¹  “That you need God more than anything, you know at all times in your heart. But don’t you know also that God needs you—in the fullness of his eternity, you? How would man exist if God did not need him, and how would you exist? You need God in order to be, and God needs you—for that which is the meaning of your life.”  (Martin Buber, I and Thou, Simon and Schustner, 2000)

²  A sketch of Christ, made by St John of the Cross, was shown to Salvador Dali in 1949 moving him to paint his great work Christ of St John of the Cross.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rfN67C9XLCM

³    Roy Campbell, Poems of St John of the Cross, The Harvill Press Ltd., 1951

⁴ Pray as You Go; https://pray-as-you-go.org/; Laudate, Prayers, Daily Readings and Various Devotions: https://itunes.apple.com/us/app/laudate-1-catholic-app/id499428207?mt=8