A threefold cord

Strand 1: - I recently called in again at the weekly ‘Coffee Shop’ at Hallow Church, and while walking round the eastern end of the church one of the gravestones provided me with my thought for the day.
I believe every day holds something for me, though it is not always clearly defined. Sometimes I have to reflect on the day to discover what it is, and I frequently fail in my attempts; this through my recurring inability to see beyond the immediate and the superficial, my own lack of awareness, and my spiritual immaturity, not because there has been no such occurrence, no seed, provided for me as food for thought, as some form of guidance, or as a pointer to the course I should take in an otherwise confusing situation. Just as frequently, however, it is immediately clear when something is registering in ways beyond the apparently obvious message. It is then an undeniable touch that lingers throughout my waking hours and echoes through the following days.
Opening a book to read about Francis of Assisi (24.05.08 post) was an overwhelming example of one of these moments, and while most do not carry that degree of impact, they all register as being worthy of note in ways that speak clearly to me of the presence of the Holy Spirit in our lives: God’s presence as Teacher, Guide and Conveyor of Truth. Three days’ thoughts have combined recently leaving me no option but to ponder them more deeply.
Reading the few words on the gravestone was one of these quiet but instantly recognizable moments.
The stone was simply inscribed with the name and the years of birth and death of the person buried beneath it, but these were barely noticed. It was the remaining three words that grasped my attention: so brief, so simple, but saying it all; the first standing alone at the centre of the stone, the final two at the bottom. ‘PRIEST’ ‘DEO GRATIAS’

Strand 2: - Two days later I attended an Annual Parish Meeting at a church where there is a degree of discontent among some of the parishioners, and at which, among other things, the shortage of priests and the roles of the priest and the laity were discussed. I had not been to one of these meetings for four or five years, and my reason for attending this time was my awareness of the concerns of some long standing members of the parish who have since felt the need to contribute and worship elsewhere. I was interested to hear how much or how little would be said, what questions might be raised, and what responses might be given. I regret to say I did not return home happily reassured, and, after the numbers turning out for the last meetings at which I was present, the worrying reality of only twenty people attending this one did nothing to dispel concerns.
Among my thoughts was a low level but insistent repetition of those words, ‘Priest. Thanks be to God.’

Strand 3: - The following morning, during the radio 4 ‘Today’ programme, Rev. Dr Alan Billings, Director of the Centre for Ethics and Religion at Lancaster University, gave his contribution in the regular ‘Thought For The Day’ spot, and in so doing filled my day with further thoughts relating to those arising from that meeting.
He spoke, as follows, of the inauguration of ‘a sculpture on the roof of the new Broadcasting House in Portland Place as a memorial to all journalists and associated crews ... that have lost their lives reporting from places of conflict. ... The reasons for that are not only that the places they work in are inherently dangerous but also that modern struggles are fought out in the media, as well as the streets and battlefields, and journalists’ ‘inconvenient’ reporting is not always welcomed.
By inconvenient reporting I mean of course, truthful reporting.
What protagonists want is not truth but what suits them and builds support for their cause.
That’s as true for authoritarian regimes as democracies, for terrorist groups as governments: even churches have axes to grind.
Yet inconvenient reporting - truthful reporting – is vital for the health of every human community. We can see why from a comment of Jesus in the gospel according to St John. Jesus links freedom and truth: ‘The truth’ He says, ‘will make you free.’
What I think that means in the context of global politics is something like this: - Human beings are most free and flourish best in societies that treat people justly, and so we want to support just causes; but if we’re to pray faithfully and act effectively, we need to understand truthfully: we need to know how things are, what motivates people, what matters to them, we particularly need truthful accounts where our support, moral or material is asked for, because our sympathies are easily manipulated.
We need to know that those who fight in the name of freedom, including our own forces and allies, do so in ways that discriminate and are proportionate, and eschew cruelty, because otherwise seeds of resentment and so instability will be sown, even if victory is won.
For all of this we need fearless, truthful and so sometimes inconvenient reporting, and this exposes journalists to danger.
... freedom is built on truth, however inconvenient.’


Fearless, truthful and so sometimes inconvenient reporting, is vital for the health of every human community, but is not always welcomed. Truth is essential for a healthy and thriving community, and that applies to our parishes just as it does for any other group of people. We need to understand the reality of the situation behind the particular church of which we are a part: we need to know how things are; and ‘we particularly need truthful accounts where our support, moral or material is asked for, because our sympathies are easily manipulated.’ Those who give their time, energy or expertise, or funds, must know that they are not being misled nor their gifts misused.
We invariably begin with an assumption that all forms of support are used appropriately, but this attitude of quiet and unquestioning acceptance becomes very fragile when, for example, previously available facts are not published as a matter of course; when rumours of extravagance are whispered even beyond the reaches of the parish; when information no longer seems to be openly and honestly provided, when questioning is felt to be unwelcome and therefore discouraged, and when answers to those questions which are asked give only an outline of the facts. In short, when the sharing of information is done on a dubious form of restricted ‘need-to-know’ basis, and when those who have real concerns and dissatisfactions begin to go elsewhere rather than endure the debilitating effects of remaining, it is inevitable that the ‘seeds of resentment and instability will be sown’.
But the pull towards negativity which I find myself expressing here is not what these moments are about.
There is something here that needs to be addressed but the real problems, I am sure, are not as they would first seem; that is what I am called to pray about and to ponder further.
.

‘... a threefold cord is not quickly broken.’
(Ecclesiastes 4:12)

Use and abuse

‘... it is to such as these that the Kingdom of Heaven belongs.’ (Matthew 19:14)

The documentary, ‘Jesus Camp’, was shown again a few weeks ago on British television. In it, Becky Fischer, a Pentecostal children’s minister who runs an annual summer camp for Evangelical children - or rather, for the children of Evangelical parents - says that “boys and girls can change the world”, and that “they are so open: they are so usable in Christianity”.
This is undoubtedly true, but the word ‘usable’ immediately suggests a dangerous road. Childhood is inherently vulnerable, but if children are seen as ‘usable’ their vulnerability is instantly increased. The thought itself is the beginning of abuse.

Children are not for ‘using’ in anything or for anything, except by God. It is He alone who may use their innocence and simplicity in the furtherance of His cause. Any person, parent included, who uses a child for their own ends, or even for ends they believe to be in accordance with God’s will for the child, for the community or for the wider Church, abuses the child. No form of physical or sexual abuse excludes emotional and psychological abuse, but even where there is no physical aspect to the ‘use’ of a child, the very fact that a child is being ‘used’ by someone is a complete abuse of childhood and of the underlying trust, wonder and beauty upon which it should be based. If God chooses to use a child for some purpose it is the unadulterated innocence, simplicity and truth of childhood that He uses. If we use a child, we tamper with and damage both the childhood and the child.

Becky Fischer goes on to say, ‘Our enemies are putting their efforts and their focus on the kids; they’re going into the schools. You go into Palestine, and I can take you to some websites that will absolutely shake you to your foundations, and show you photographs of where they’re taking their kids to camps like we take our kids to Bible Camps, and they’re putting hand-grenades in their hands, they’re teaching them how to put on bomb-belts, they’re teaching them how to use rifles, they’re teaching them how to use machine-guns. It’s no wonder, that with that kind of intense training and discipling, that those young people are ready to kill themselves for the cause of Islam. I want to see young people who are as committed to the cause of Jesus Christ as the young people are to the cause of Islam. I want to see them as radically laying down their lives for the Gospel as they are over in Pakistan, in Israel and Palestine: all those different places, - because ... we have the truth.’

This is nothing if not deeply worrying, and it all appears to stem from a misinterpretation of some of the world’s ongoing conflicts: a failure to separate extreme indoctrination (the perceived reality) from the reality of Islam, and a failure to recognize the only real enemy we all have.
An equally extreme way of pressurizing children, but without the physical weaponry, is not what Christ’s Church is about. It is not what Jesus would do: It is not what any of His followers are called to do: It is not Christian. His words were, ‘Suffer little children’ not ‘make little children suffer’; and suffer they do. Jesus, whose incarnation was for one definitive purpose, had His childhood and His youth without undue or abusive pressures. Those who were closely involved with His journey to maturity allowed God’s grace to work in Him, waiting and trusting, never making their own decisions about His calling and usefulness. Jesus had thirty years before starting His ministry: thirty years of meditation, contemplation, revelation: thirty years of learning and of self-realization. It was the learning, not the teaching of others, which brought Him to the point where God, His Father, could direct Him through His Mission.

The normalization of the abnormal continues its insidious spread through society, and as we gradually and unconsciously become more accustomed to its apparent acceptability, we place our judgement, our conscience, our capacity for indignation and righteous anger, at the very edge of our day-to-day awareness of the world around us. Aspects of God’s Kingdom are being undermined and fragmented all around us, and we utter not one word.

‘... rather than the living who still have lives to live,
I congratulate the dead who have already met death;
happier than both of these are those who are yet unborn
and have not seen the evil things that are done under the sun.’
(Ecclesiastes 4:2,3)