NURTURING THE WORLD'S SOUL

'Creation itself is now calling to us, sending us signs of balance, and the soul of the world, the anima mundi, which the ancients understood as the spiritual presence of the earth, is crying out.’ (Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee, Prayer of the Heart in Christian and Sufi Mysticism, p.71)

A culture which has ceased to realise the anima mundi, privatised the spiritual, encouraged the notion that any religion we devise is as good as others whilst scorning those practices and disciplines which the mystics have taught, will not restore what has been abused simply by addressing the external needs of nature. Instead of being slaves of consumerism we need to re-connect with the world's soul by acknowledging and tending our own, admitting (literally) that prayer is central to life as it connects us with our Divine Lover, and letting ourselves become a prayer: 'Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me (on the world)'.

It seems that our culture has become bored with the effort required to nurture the soul, telling us that ‘I’ and my superficial wants are central and can be gratified by other gods. Advertisers have persuaded us of the importance of satisfying our superficial desires and so the world appeals to the eye (and the ego-‘I’), feeds our appetite for pleasure, and offers apparent satisfaction by its appeal to our senses. Yet only when we dive deeper into the heart and realise the indwelling soul can we begin to address that lost inner world which connects all creation.

Try holding the earth in your heart – and if that is too much, your small part of it: the flower you see, grass on which you walk or tree against which you rest. Hold them before God, realising they are held in the heart of their Creator.

BEING BENEATH

EACH Spring and Summer I would cycle with my mother through the green lanes that wound their way from the suburb’s edge where we lived, through the countryside, to the little village where she grew up and where she tended the grave of a child she had known. My memories are of sitting on the handlebars of her bicycle (until I was old enough to ride my own) as we passed through cool, green tree-tunnels until we emerged into hot, dry days and arrived at the wooden gate leading into the sun-burnt land surrounding the Norman church – a church which served a hamlet abandoned over the years in favour of the site of the present village a mile away.

Most of us can trace our roots back to that ancient farming world. The life of our ancestors would have depended on the natural world in ways we can hardly imagine and part of the attraction of the countryside might be that our roots remember the world from which we came. Clearly, many are attracted to spend time drinking from this spring; urban rush and noise fall away. The blessed silence, broken by the sound of birdsong or leaves rustling in the wind, sweet smell of air unpolluted by exhaust fumes can give a sense of entering a different world and touch memories stored deep within us. Unlike our rural forebears we of today’s suburb and city often forget the need to reverence our sustaining Mother, the Earth, reminding ourselves that the internet can never truly satisfy our deepest desires but can blind us – prevent us from penetrating further than what the screen before our eyes allows. Of course, it's easy to sense God in the glories of a garden and the beauty of nature, but saints find God in the weed growing through a pavement of a city street.

Yet gardens, when cultivated and not paved over, can reveal the beauty of bush and flower; allotments allow some to sink bare hands in humus enabling a connection with our Mother. Our roots can only be satisfied by that way of earthy humility. But even then, some fear the encounter and, responding to a developing generation increasingly separated from the world, shield skin with gloves preventing thus that encounter.

However, there’s a wonderful practice within the Orthodox tradition of Christianity which forever remembers our at oneness with Earth. In praying before an icon of a heavenly saint (or at other times) the Sign of the Cross – with Trinitarian fingers held together, one bent into contact with the palm – by touching the forehead and then bending low to the ground (on which our feet walk and into which we will be buried) before concluding with a horizontal marking of the shoulders from left to right, a final marking tracing the horizon of earth and sky and sea. Naming the Source of all life, the One who came to make all things whole, and the Spirit constantly – invisibly – moving through creation, that faith-full encounter with the ground and what lies hidden beneath, affirms that whilst we’re of the earth, we come from and are destined for glory.

Christian faith is Incarnational – it says: ‘I may be flesh and blood but to be fully human I need to be in touch with the Spirit which gives life.’ Maybe we sense an echo of an oh-so-dim memory planted deep within of the divine Spirit flowing throughout Nature; the Spirit who penetrates everything in Nature and binds us together – the divine ‘glue’ that helps make us whole. At every Mass when bread is taken and wine poured, blessed and given our Faith tells us that this blessed Creation can be transformed to reveal the divine – the yeast of Christ leaving the flour that made the Bread of Life.

I find the same sense of seeing through outward things into the universe beneath when I pray before the Tabernacle in a church. There, Christ is present beneath the fragile form of a wafer of bread. In that ever-so-ordinary form there is something extraordinary, and the Divine which inhabits and transforms bread is also present throughout nature. So I sit or kneel and am moved to whisper, ‘Lord, I adore you; lay my life before you, how I must love you’.

PANDEMIC RESOURCES

During this pandemic there have been many suggestions as to how we might cope with the awful stresses and strains caused by lockdown.  Frequently the media report on a variety of physical exercises that can relieve gloom and despair; we are reminded that nature is a great healer and that time spent in the countryside, in woods or parks, can be very beneficial.  But few, if any, address the deeper needs that are often forgotten or even unrealised; the need of our inner being, the heart of who we are – that ‘immortal diamond’, interior castle – which needs our attention.  If we’re concerned with our physical well-being, why are we not equally concerned with the centre of our being which determines so much about who we are and how we cope with life.

The Church (of England) has so many resources it could offer people and I hope these simple Exercises might encourage others to share the hidden wisdom of our Faith which can be of such help.  If you have comments you would like to make or additions to the Exercises, do leave a message.

There are various ‘spiritual exercises’ we can undertake, and I want to draw your attention to  a few that can really help in this time which many find to be filled with anxiety and fear.  Firstly, of course, it’s important to acknowledge that we do have an ‘inner-being’!  That we’re more than skin, muscle, brain and bones.  That we have what’s been traditionally called a ‘soul’, our God-given identity, which lies in the heart of who we are.  And, because it is God-given, it is beloved.  We are loved in the deepest part of who we are and no one and nothing can destroy that love because it is of God – we don’t own it, control it or  have it at our disposal.  We need to ‘hear’ that, accept and own it – we are loved in the depth of our being, loved with Godly compassion, so it’s important that we practice sitting in that compassionate gaze which God turns towards us so that we can be enfolded in God’s compassionate love.

Christians realise that Jesus is all compassion, and any spiritual exercises are best practiced with him who – ‘though we cannot see him – is closer to us than our breath.  So, here are exercises you can practice – in the comfort of your chair or, if you have one, using a prayer-stool.  Decide how long you’ll spend – how long would you give to physical exercises?  Fifteen minutes?  Half an hour?  Here are some you might try – but remember, they need to become part of your life if they are to have any effect.

(NB.  You can download these from Google docs. by pressing the 'Download' button)

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BEFORE YOU BEGIN:  A preparation

EXERCISES

EXERCISE 1:  Learning to breathe

EXERCISE 2:  Becoming centred

EXERCISE 3:  Simple exercises

EXERCISE 4:  Natural exercises

EXERCISE 5:  Words of life

EXERCISE 6:  Imagining the Word

EXERCISE 7:  Relishing Life

EXERCISE 8:  At the centre of our being

EXERCISE 9:  The music of the heart

JUST THINK ABOUT

REFLECTION 1:  PSYCHOMACHIA - psycho what?!

REFLECTION 2:  INSHALLAH - as God wills

REFLECTION 3:  CHRISTMAS IS COMING - without the kids?

REFLECTION 4:  LOCKDOWN AND LONELINESS

REFLECTION 5:  LIVING WITH THANKSGIVING

REFLECTION 6:  COPING WITH FEAR

REFLECTION 7:  THE ONLINE 'JESUIT GUIDE' - to the pandemic if not everything ..

REFLECTION 8:  DEPRESSION, DESOLATION AND DARKNESS

REFLECTION 9:  FULLY HUMAN

REFLECTION 10:  CONTEMPLATION IN A TIME OF PANDEMIC

A BOOK: The Mystery of Faith which is introduced here contains helpful information about ... Faith.

If you would like to be advised when other Exercises or Reflections are added, please send an email to: jff2209(at)yahoo.com requesting to be kept in contact.

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John-Francis Friendship TSSF
November 2020

SERMON FOR 27th SUNDAY IN ORDINARY (St. Francis Day) - October 4th, 2020

Is. 5: 1-7 God’s vineyard not producing grapes

Phil.3: 4b-14 Longing for life in Christ

Matt. 21: 33-46 Parable of vineyard (2) – God gives vineyard to others.

‘There was a landlord who planted a vineyard.’ (Matt. 21:33)

INTRODUCTION
I wonder what you feel about Greta Thunberg, that teenage climate activist from Sweden?  I have a sense she’s a bit like marmite – but I quite like marmite.   I also like St. Francis of Assisi who, in a similar way to Greta, had a deep concern for the environment.  I mention this because the church normally celebrates Francis’ life today, October 4th, although Francis gives way to Jesus this year.  And today is also the final day of that five-week period named ‘Creationtide’, developed through an initiative of the Orthodox Patriarch of Constantinople – the focus of which, this year, has been preparations for the 26th International Climate Change Conference to be held in Glasgow next autumn.

CHALLENGE OF ST. FRANCIS OF ASSISI
I know we need to care for the planet and try to do my bit, although Greta shook my middle-class conscientiousness.  But it’s the more radical approach of Francis I really value, because he not only had a concern for creation but celebrated our inter-connectedness.  Brother Wind, Sister Water – Mother Earth – are not terms dreamt up by a bohemian environmentalist, but by this humble Italian saint whose life many consider to be closest to that of Jesus.  Francis’ has long inspired creative people: his great ‘Canticle of Creation’ lies behind that popular hymn, ‘All creatures of our God and king’; in 1972 Franco Zeffirelli wrote and directed Brother Sun, Sister Moon, a slightly hippy presentation of Francis’ early life, whilst fifty years beforehand Roberto Rossellini’s The Flowers of St. Francis offered a far earthier version which he wanted to present as "the perfume of the most primitive Franciscanism".

Why, then, does a thirteenth century saint appeal to twentieth century musicians, film makers and thousands of Christians around the world – and I’m one who have heard his appeal and joined the Franciscan Third Order.  One popular view is that he was kind to animals, but that is to trivialise his message.  Rather, it’s his life of poverty which stands in stark contrast to the superficiality of today’s quest for wealth and power; his complete obedience to Jesus which reveals that love which brought all things into being, and his profound joy and compassion for humankind which touches the hearts of all who have come to know him.  But back to nature.

FRANCIS AND CREATION
Francis’ life, which culminated in him receiving the Stigmata, the wounds of Christ in his hands, feet and side revealing the depth of his love – reveals the wonder of what humanity is called to discover through profoundly alternative ways of living.  Francis asks – where does your treasure lie?  He showed that we need to live in harmony with all things because we are sisters and brothers with one another and creation.  He saw and venerated the Creator in Creation revealing that one of the greatest evils is to seek domination and not approach life with humility and compassion.  As his biographer, St. Bonaventure, wrote: ‘In everything (Francis) saw him who is beauty itself, and he followed his Beloved everywhere by his likeness imprinted on creation; of all creation he made a ladder by which he might mount up and embrace Him who is all-desirable.’

REVERENCING CREATION
I have a profound respect for what Greta Thunberg, Sir David Attenborough and so many others are seeking to do, and am ashamed at times when I realise what my generation has done and is doing with the planet.  I see behind Greta and Sir David that Little Poor Man of Assisi whose smile lights up when Earth sings in harmony but who weeps at our inhumanity and lack of compassion.  And I see in him One who suffers as we rape and pillage the earth and who says to us – ‘but this Earth is my precious gift to you!’   So, let’s open the eye of our heart to see, value, reverence and celebrate the wonders of this gift and, like St. Francis, live more simply that others may simply live.  But how does all this connect with our readings today?

THE VINEYARD
Well, two of them – the Old Testament and gospel readings – both concern vineyards.  The first, from the prophet Isaiah, warns Israel of what will happen if the vineyard isn’t cared for; and the gospel reading also contains a warning about those who use the vineyard for their own ends.  The story is, of course, another parable and parables aren’t meant to be taken literally – their meaning reveals itself when we look at what it is saying through the lens of faith in the call of God.  And what is clear is that this one is a warning to those who act irresponsibly in relation to what they have charge of.   

FACING THE CRISIS
I think it’s fairly clear that we are virtually into a climate catastrophe brought about by our own misuse of creation.  People like Greta and Sir David appear as a present-day prophets to warn us of the dangers we face.  Sadly, there are many powerful people who care more for creating wealth for themselves and protecting their interests than caring for the planet.  Many are associated with energy companies – but you don’t need to be an expert in global energy production to know this – just go around any supermarket and see how, in the space of a lifetime, we have abandoned ourselves to the grip of plastics and those petro-chemical industries that profit from our addiction to them.   

Recently I came across these words by a Franciscan layman call Gerard Straub in his book ‘The Sunrise of the Soul’; he writes: ‘Our Society glorifies in the amassing of individual wealth and an ever-growing accumulation of goods.  … Anything that furthers our goal of individual material prosperity is considered good, and anything that hinders it is considered bad.’ (p.203)  His words are a consequence of his commitment to St. Francis who heard Jesus’ stark warning: “Where your treasure lies, there will your heart be also”, and who warned us of the corruptive power of wealth.  St. Francis looked at Creation and saw another kind of wealth – the wealth and wonder of all that freely exists for our benefit – providing we don’t grasp at them.  Providing we treat the planet with respect and demand that our politicians take a stand against those who profit from treating the earth as if it owes us a living.  Finally, let’s consider how this all connects with this Eucharist.

CREATION AND EUCHARIST
Back in the 1980s it was popular with some preaches to quote a saying of the early Church Father, St. Irenaeus: ‘The glory of God Is man, fully alive.’ (Forgive the gender specific but it has a poetic crispness to it.)  We would then go on to explore what ‘being fully alive’ might entail, but we often forgot the second part of Irenaeus’ saying: ‘And the glory of man is the vision of God.’

Last week I pointed out that this celebration isn’t just about receiving a piece of bread or even a sip of wine but about feeding on the Body and Blood of Christ and realising that glory with your inner eye of love.   Even in the time of St. John some found that too demanding – surely this is just a reminder of a simple meal Jesus shared with his friends?   No!  It’s far more than that!  Beneath these ordinary gifts lies the glory of God: that’s why we venerate the Sacrament – why we genuflect – take the knee – as we approach Christ – because we see beneath the outer forms the glorious Presence of the Creator.   St. Francis knew that and, in one of his letters, wrote: “O sublime humility!  O humble sublimity! That the Lord of the whole universe, God and the Son of God, should humble himself like this and hide under the form of a little bread, for our salvation.”

If we venerate Christ here, see with the eye of our heart that he comes to us on this altar and adore him beneath these forms of bread and wine, if we can do that, then our view of all created matter can change.  For, just as God is present in these precious gifts, so God is present in all he has made, and our inner eye will be able to see and venerate him in all things – in every majestic tree or simple blade of grass; in flowers and fruits, fish and animals – in every rock and stone God says, ‘see, I am pleased with all that my hands have made’. 

You don’t have to be a creationist to believe that, or a biblical literalist – or a Buddhist, just a creature who realises that we are one with all that exists.   To do so can be of real help during this pandemic – be conscious of your connectedness with all creation.  Look at everything around you, relish it and then give thanks to God – even if it’s something as simple as a leaf or a feather.  Let me close with St. Francis’ great song of thankfulness for all this:

All praise be yours, my Lord,
through all that you have made,

And first my lord Brother Sun,
Who brings the day; and light you give to us through him.
How beautiful is he, how radiant in all his splendour!
Of you, Most High, he bears the likeness.

All praise be yours, my Lord,
through Sister Moon and Stars;
In the heavens you have made them, bright
And precious and fair.

All praise be yours, my Lord,
through Brothers Wind and Air,
And fair and stormy, all the weather’s moods,
By which you cherish all that you have made.

All praise be yours, my Lord, through Brother Fire,
Through whom you brighten up the night.
How beautiful is he, how merry!
Full of power and strength.

All praise be yours, my Lord,
through Sister Earth, our Mother,
Who feeds us in her sovereignty and produces
Various fruits with coloured flowers and herbs.

Let us praise, bless and adore Him in all His creation,
and in the Most Holy Sacrament of the Altar.  Amen.

BROTHER SUN, SISTER MOON

 

               

I have a feeling Greta Thunberg is a bit like marmite, and I quite enjoy marmite.  I also like St. Francis of Assisi (not like marmite) who, in a similar way to Greta, had a deep concern for the environment.  I mention this because we celebrate Francis’ life on October 4th, the final day of a five-week period which the churches call ‘Creationtide’, developed through an initiative of the Orthodox Patriarch of Constantinople.  This year the focus is on preparations for the 26th Climate Change Conference to be held in Glasgow in November 2021.

I know we need to care for the planet and try to do my bit although Greta shook my middle-class conscientiousness.  But it’s the more radical approach of Francis I really value, for he not only had a concern for creation but celebrated our interconnectedness.  Brother Wind, Sister Water – Mother Earth – are not terms dreamt up by some woke environmentalist but by this humble Italian saint whose life many consider to be closest to that of Jesus.  Francis’ life has long inspired creative people: his great ‘Canticle of Creation’ lies behind that popular hymn, ‘All creatures of our God and king’; Messiaen composed an opera in his honour; in 1972 Franco Zeffirelli wrote and directed Brother Sun, Sister Moon, a slightly hippy presentation of Francis’ early life, whilst fifty years beforehand Roberto Rossellini’s The Flowers of St. Francis offered a far earthier version which he wanted to offer as "the perfume of the most primitive Franciscanism".

Why, then, does a thirteenth century saint appeal to twentieth century musicians, film-makers and thousands of Christians around the world?  One popular view is that he was kind to animals, but that is to trivialise Francis.  Rather, his life of poverty cuts through the superficiality of today’s quest for wealth and power; his complete obedience to God reveals that love which brought all things into being, and his profound joy and compassion for humankind touches the hearts of all who have come to know him.  But back to nature.

Francis’ life, which culminated in his receiving the wounds of Christ in his hands, feet and side – those wounds which revealed to him the depth of Jesus’ love – is a life which reveals the wonder of what humanity is called to realise through profoundly alternative ways of living.  He asks us – where does your treasure lie?  He reveals that we need to live in harmony with all things because we are sisters and brothers with one another and creation.  He saw and venerated the Creator in Creation showing that one of the greatest evils is to proudly seek domination and not approach life with humility and compassion, for we are sisters and brothers of this small, fragile Earth.

I don’t ‘like’ Greta Thunberg – I have a profound respect for what she and so many other young people are seeking to do and am ashamed, at times, at what my generation is doing with the planet.  I see behind her that Little Poor Man of Assisi whose smile lights up when Earth sings in harmony but who weeps at our inhumanity.  And I see behind him One who suffers as we rape and pillage the earth and who says to us – but this Earth is my precious gift to you!   So, let’s open the eye of our heart to see, value, reverence and celebrate the wonders of this gift and, like St. Francis, live more simply that others may simply live.

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‘Be praised, my Lord, through all your creatures, especially through my lord Brother Sun, who brings the day; and you give light through him.  And he is beautiful and radiant in all his splendour!  Of you, Most High, he bears the likeness. … Be praised, my Lord, through those who forgive for love of you; through those who endure sickness and trial. Happy those who endure in peace, for they will be crowned’ (Canticle of Creation)

SERMON FOR 33rd SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME (2 before Advent) - Veneration of Creation

Mal 4:1-2a, 2 Thess.3:6-13 and Luke 21:5-19    

‘These stones that have echoed thy praises are holy and dear is the ground where their feet have once trod; yet here they confessed they were strangers and pilgrims, and still they were seeking the city of God.’X

INTRODUCTION

Those are lines from a hymn often sung at the Feast of the Dedication of  a church – ‘In our Day of Thanksgiving’ – and I thought of them last week at this time as I, and a group of 22 pilgrims from East Greenwich, stood in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem.  We had arrived at our final destination after time in the Galilee and were beginning our devotions in that city which is the focus of longings for Jews, Christians and Muslims. 

Yet the stones which generations have erected to protect the holy places, and the places themselves, are but outward symbols of that heavenly Jerusalem where God dwells with angels and saints, the great company of heaven of which each baptised person is a part.   

JERUSALEM AND ITS STONES

Jerusalem is a city which stirs deep feelings – both of passionate longing and love – and passionate disgust and hatred.  Its stones have been venerated and destroyed by many civilisations and, as Jesus prophesied, it’s Temple and the whole city was destroyed by the Romans just forty years later, in AD 70.   We had stood on Shabbat eve – Friday evening – looking at the remains of a small part of the Temple mount known as the ’Wailing Wall’, watching hundreds of Jews expressing their passion for Jerusalem as they sang and danced, wept and lamented and offered their prayers.  And, all the time, they were overlooked by the great Dome of the Rock built by Muslims over the site of the Jewish Holy of Holies in the late 7^th century.

HOLY SEPULCHRE

But for us – Christians – it was not the Dome or Temple which, in the end, drew us; rather, it was that Church built over the Holy Sepulchre, the place where Christ was buried and rose from the dead, a few meters from the place where He was crucified and where Christians had ever since gathered to worship.  Yet their first church had also been destroyed and a Temple to Venus built by the Romans over the ruins which, later, enabled the Emperor Constantine, when he converted to Christianity in the early 4^th c., to identify the spot and build a great basilica.  But, 300 years later, that was also destroyed by the Persians and its replacement destroyed again by Muslim forces in the year 1009. 

So the building we prayed in has echoed to the praises of pilgrims for a thousand years, but the site on which it stands for twice as long.  And I thought of those lines: ‘these stones that have echoed their praises are holy’.  And, in particular, I recalled them as I saw the way so many pilgrims venerated the slab of pink-veined marble marking the place where the body of Jesus lay after being taken from the Cross and placed in the Tomb.

DEVOTION AND VENERATION

One of the sad things about the Reformation is that it ended public displays of veneration – shrines and statues kissed by Christians for generations were destroyed and, gradually, public displays of affection came to an end.  It may be permissible for women to give each other an affectionate kiss but men – never!  That’s something those strange continentals do!

Yet, gradually, the Church has begun to reclaim veneration – the priest will kiss the altar and book of the gospels, and all will give each other a holy kiss at the peace – or at least, a handshake!  And we offer incense to those three things – the altar stone; the Book of the Gospels and the People of God.  But we don’t do all this simply because we want to show affection – or even because we believe there’s something special about the stone, or the paper or even the flesh we kiss.  Its what’s hidden in those things – what they convey; how our Creator God is present in matter.  Because God created them they are intrinsically good, if imperfect; and because God entered into our world in the Incarnation – entered into flesh, into created matter – each thing that exists is touched by the Divine. 

But we find that hard to comprehend.  There’s long been the temptation to think of matter as corrupt – certainly not  to be worshipped!  After all, God commanded the Israelites not to make idols and worship them (Ex.20.3)!  So having a picture, painting or sculpture of the human form in a place of worship is anathema to Jews and Muslims.  And, because of that, Christians began destroying their stone and wooden statues and icons after the rise of Islam.

As the years went by and they began to realise the consequences of God entering our human flesh and being born of a Virgin Mother they realised that, if God had entered matter, matter – created things – must matter!  More than that – if God venerated Creation to the extent of joining Himself to it, we must also venerate it.  Sadly that was an understanding lost on the Reformers seven hundred years later who proceeded to disfigure and destroy representations of God in humankind. 

What they’d forgotten is that it’s not the thing itself we venerate, but the wonder of the Creator which is encountered in the statue, icon, altar, book – or person.  As St John of Damascus had said during the great controversy about icons:

"I do not worship matter, I worship the God of matter, who became matter for my sake and deigned to inhabit matter, who worked out my salvation through matter. I will not cease from honouring that matter which works for my salvation. I venerate it, though not as God."

VENERATING GOD IN CREATION

So we’re to worship God through creation, as saints like Francis of Assisi have always known.  Francis, who realised that all things were inter-related and called all things his brother or sister – Brother Sun and Sister Moon, Mother Earth – even Sister Fire which was used to burn disease from his eye.  It’s a realisation, of course, which we’re re-discovering now as we accept we can no longer dominate, abuse and rape creation. 

We have to treat it with deep respect, which some religions have recognised as they venerate the divine in the natural world.  Aspects of Celtic religion – that religion which pre-dated Christianity in many Western lands – affirmed the sacredness of nature, an understanding which informed many of the early monks of our islands.  As one anonymous prayer says:

Bless to me, O God,

Each thing my eyes see,

Bless to me, O God,

Each sound my ear hears,

Bless to me, O God,

Each odour that goes to my nostrils,

Bless to me, O God,

Each taste that goes to my lips.

Thankfully, many are waking up to the need to take greater care of our planet and treat it with more respect lest the elements – earth, water, air and fire – turn against us.  We can see the way they do that when they are abused, and we need to recall that our faith tells us we need to venerate creation.  The way we kiss the altar, the gospels and each other reminds that a holy kiss deepens our intimacy with that which we venerate; that it is not simply the stone, paper or flesh that we touch with our lips but the Divine presence within them – present in the Blessed Sacrament consecrated on this table of sacrifice; present in the words written in the Holy Book, and present beneath the skin of our sisters and brothers – even if they cannot recognise that presence.  But, perhaps, we might deepen our recognition as we open ourselves to an intimate encounter with the Word made flesh: you have seen your brother; you have seen your God.

THE DESTRUCTION OF JERUSALEM

Sadly, Jerusalem has been damaged and destroyed many, many times; its walls pulled down, Temple looted and houses raised to the ground.  Every age is tempted to destroy what it cannot understand or what has gone before, believing it has something better to offer, be that the destruction of reforming fundamentalists – smashing statues and disfiguring frescoes – or town councils up and down the land who bulldozed much of our Victorian heritage.  We so often fail to appreciate something until it’s too late; instead of honouring creation we misuse and abuse it.  Jerusalem reminded me that we, people of faith in a God who entered matter, need to learn to venerate that matter once again if we are to be true to our calling.  For God so loved the world that he gave His only Son – Himself – to inhabit creation. 

‘I worship the God of matter, who became matter for my sake and deigned to inhabit matter.’

May we deepen our intimacy with God through our veneration of creation.   And as we offer one another a handshake at the Peace, let’s not forget what we are really doing – offering a holy kiss to one another who are the image of our God made visible.

ALL CREATION SINGS YOUR PRAISE

Sitting in the gardens of the 16th century hotel in which we stayed one March day, the song of the birds filled me with joy and I immediately thought of those words from Eucharistic Prayer III - 'Lord, you are holy indeed, and all creation rightly gives you praise.'  That morning it felt as if the birds could not contain themselves for the joy they felt and I was reminded that this chorus is sung every day, yet how often I'm not aware of it.  But that morning I was and recalled what St Augustine said: "And I said to all those things that stand about the gates of my senses: 'Tell me something about my God, you who are not he. Tell me something about him.' And they cried out in a loud voice, 'He made us.'"   

The way that nature is filled with joy is something of which the psalmist was aware. He frequently allows his soul to sing::

Praise him, sun and moon; praise him, all you shining stars.

Praise him, you highest heavens and you waters above the skies.

Let them praise the name of the Lord,

for at his command they were created, and he established them for ever and ever—

he issued a decree that will never pass away. (148.3f)

The saints also allow themselves to express their thankfulness; St Francis sang his great Canticle of Creation:

Praised be you, my Lord, with all your creatures,

especially Sir Brother Sun,

who is the day and through whom you give us light.

And he is beautiful and radiant with great splendour;

and bears a likeness of you, Most High One.

Praised be you, my Lord, through Sister Moon and the stars:

in heaven you formed them clear and precious and beautiful.

It's easy to go around with the ear and eye of our heart closed to the way the wonders of creation is not only a sacrament of the glory of God but that that glory exults and cannot keep silence.  Priests, in particular, need to be aware of this ways in which God's glory cries out, but many people realise this and write about it, not least in poetry.  But many don't cultivate a heart which can listen for this divine song of creation, preferring to listen to songs coming out of their ipods, blind to the beauty around them.   Cultivating a silent heart that can hear this song is the way in which it can become open to this awareness.  Not just outward silence, 'tho that can help, but silence of the mind so that it's not constantly distracted, silence of the soul so that it's not distracted from being open to God and silence of the spirit which stills the heart.  Each morning we need to open ourselves, open our hearts, to this joyful praise that nature is expressing so that our hearts, too, can sing for joy like the sons and daughters of God.

A SINGING HEART

It’s easy to sink into gloom and moroseness, especially in the dark days at the end of the year. Yet we are surrounded (even in London Zone 4) with trees that sing for joy. Walking past the small, ancient meadow which clings to the slopes of the hill close to where we live I suddenly ‘saw’ the trees glowing with the yellowness of late autumn – and my heart sang for joy. The man walking in front of me had his eyes glued to his iPhone – maybe he was watching something that lightened his heart, but so often we simply don’t ‘see’ what creation offers to change our hearts.

The psalmist knows this and often tells of the way the whole world sings for joy:

Let the heavens rejoice and earth be glad;

let the sea and all within it thunder praise.

Let the land and all it bears rejoice.

Then will all the trees of the wood shout for joy

at the presence of the LORD. (Ps.96. 12f)

When I see the heavens, the work of your fingers,

the moon and the stars which you arranged,

what is man that you should keep him in mind,

the son of man that you care for him? (Ps.8. 4f)

              It’s easy to let ourselves be drawn into despondency, sadness and despair yet we are surrounded by a world which cries out that beauty, wonder and mystery surround us. The Psalms, in particular, will direct our attention to the glory and majesty that is ours as part of a good creation, yet we can forget or ignore this source of well-being. The waters that feed our heart can be fresh or they can be brackish, pure or toxic. Just as we are becoming aware of the dangers to our bodies of feeding off unhealthy food, so we need to be aware that what we look at can nourish or poison us.

Let the heavens be glad, and let the earth rejoice,
    and let them say among the nations, “The Lord is king!”

Let the sea roar, and all that fills it;
    let the field exult, and everything in it.

Then shall the trees of the forest sing for joy
    before the Lord, for he comes to judge the earth.

O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;
    for his steadfast love endures forever. (1 Chronicles 16. 31f)

VARIOUS QUOTES

“Obedience is not to an external authority but to love until love becomes the commandment by which we live.  Anything imposed on a free person has no spiritual value: we are not to ‘submit’ to authority but to love until ‘thy will be done’.  In Christian obedience we exercise submission (abandonment) to love.”
- Fr. Nicholai Sakharov

‘S. Ephrem held that God’s revelation is present in the Scriptures and in Creation where it is visible to the “luminous eye” of the heart.  Everything has the potential to be a sacrament of the Divine.’
- unknown source

“The scriptures provide a primary narrative within which we encounter stories of the interaction of God with creation.  As part of that creation people of faith find themselves drawn into that narrative in a variety of ways.  But it is within the scriptures, and particularly for Christians the gospels, that we encounter the Word made Flesh as it encounters a particular people at a particular time in a particular place.”
- Bishop Rowan Williams

‘God gave what belonged to Him and took what belonged to us.’
- S. Ephrem on the Incarnation.

“Wherever there is a disintegration of human community there is a place to practice the Trinity.”
- Fr. Nicholai Sakharov

HAITI, SUFFERING AND GOD

There can be few people around the world who have not been deeply touched by the plight of the victims of the earthquake in Haiti. And, as a consequence, the old question has arisen – ‘How could God allow such suffering?’

SUFFERING AND A GOD OF LOVE

The fact of all human suffering when magnified to the scale that we see on our TV screens each night moves us to experience a range of feelings – compassion, revulsion, horror, sympathy and so on. How could a God of love allow such a dreadful thing to happen? And, it seems to me, the answer can only be that God has no option. True, there can be miracles: there are occasions when it seems there has been a miraculous intervention to avert tragedy or to save someone from disaster.

But the problem is, as far as I can tell, that if we accept that freedom lies at the heart of what it means to be human – indeed, what it means to be alive – than any intervention in the consequences of that freedom negates the principle. Therefore it must be true that our freedom comes at a cost. God cannot dictate to us or control us. That is the essence of love. But we affirm that God doesn’t stand aside and simply let things happen. He is also involved.

Of all the monotheistic religions, Judaism, Christianity and Islam, our faith alone affirms that God entered into our humanity. That is what we celebrate each Christmas – the Word became flesh and dwelt among us. So God in Christ shares in the lot of humankind and, as we believe, that involved experiencing suffering and death, which is what we meditate on and proclaim each Passiontide. God loved us so much he could do no other. That is the mystery of our faith and anathema to others. In the face of suffering we do not say – ‘it is the will of God’ for God does not ‘will’ that anyone suffers. We can only say that suffering lies in the will of God – it has its place. But God could never will that an individual suffers and whatever stories seem to contradict that statement (e.g. the sufferings of Job) must be viewed as the fact that God, at times allows suffering to happen. But, in terms of suffering within the scriptures, we always need to look at the reason why.

SUFFERING AND CREATION

The fact is we live in a world which constantly suffers. That is part of the human condition. Indeed, it is part of the condition of the whole of creation. Creation, as St. Paul reminded us, is constantly groaning and struggling “as in the pains of childbirth” (Roms. 8: 18ff). Why?

Our world is constantly growing and changing. The very aspects of nature that move us – clouds and tides, mountains and oceans – exist because creation is in movement. Our world is alive! Tectonic plates shift because creation is not static. It is in flux. And the tragedy and glory we experience is a consequence of our world being alive.

Just think for a moment what the world would be like if that were not so. If there were not glory or tragedy. What range of feelings and emotions would we be denied if we did not experience these and how our humanity would be affected if all were static and lifeless. For to be alive does involve change and, as most of us realise, that can be a painful process. I do not know what it is like to be a woman, but I wonder what effect it would have on us if childbirth were painless? How might I experience those profound qualities of compassion and empathy? How would we know true that depth of love which finds its expression when the one we love suffers? To be fully alive means we need, somehow, to integrate pain and sorrow, joy and health. As has been pointed out, healing is not about the elimination of pain but how we live with and through it.

CONCLUSION

I am deeply moved by the consequences of that earthquake in Haiti. By tsunami’s and floods, droughts and eruptions. I stand in awe of the way nature cannot be overcome but needs to express its life. For every mighty crashing wave means there is the potential for death. I also stand in awe of the way in which we never quite learn. After the Great Earthquake in San Francisco in 1906 the city was rebuilt, and its inhabitants wait. We are tied to the earth as it is at one with us. All of us, human and beast, animate and inanimate objects, are part of this amazing, frightening, marvellous and terrifying world. We are part of creation and within each of us lies those same forces of creation and destruction. I cannot give any answer to why God allows suffering. But, fearfully, I sense it has its part to play.

Christiansneed to reflect upon the way we are called to grow more fully into our humanity. To realise that pain and suffering have their place within the human – and creative – condition. And to realise that our Creator God holds within divinity those forces which can also destroy. And, just as God had to ‘learn’ how to integrate those forces, we also need to learn how to integrate them.