More interesting reading from overseas clergy friends
Work has always created pressure on us as people, but the tools we have recently developed – ostensibly to make our lives easier, like all tools are meant to do – have created untold tensions within people. Always-on email, instant responses and decisions required, the need for each moment to turn a profit. When we feel a sense of control over it, this can make work rewarding and exciting; when we lack that control it creates anxiety.
A recent article in The Observer entitled ‘Welcome to the Age of Exhaustion‘ William Leith described his own battles with crunching fatigue and illness that was no more than a symptom of modern living.
What we need of course is a holiday. A ‘holy day’. An extended Sabbath. A time in the tradition of Jubilee when we are liberated from our labour. In modern terms: a time to down tools.
We may mock Orthodox Jews for their often comic attempts to get round the Sabbath obligation to do no work. But, as is so often the case, beneath the comic veneer is a sound principle that we are foolish to have abandoned: we need regular times away from our tools.
Too often, because of the business of our lives (or the shocking lack of annual leave afforded US citizens) we try to pack so much into our holidays. We spend fortunes visiting far off places and trying to consume new experiences, all the while clicking away on cameras and nipping into internet cafés to catch up. We drive and fly back jetlagged and exhausted… only to have to return to 50 weeks work.
In his article Leith quotes a New York doctor, Frank Lipman, who has identified this condition of being at the end of our tether with a succinct diagnosis. These people, he says, are ’spent.’ He is spot on. In a world of ubiquitous consumer ideologies, what better way to describe those who cannot compete any more? They are spent people, with no more in the bank.
I believe part of the art of being on holiday has to be a deliberate attempt to down tools, to step away from our technologies and simply be present. Having been ‘created from the earth’ an essential part of our re-creation should be to reconnect with that founding substance of the earth.
The explorer and prolific walker Sebastian Snow once described what happened on a long walk:
“By some transcendental process, I seemed to take on the characteristics of a Shire [horse], my head lowered, resolute, I just plunked one foot in front of t’other, mentally munching nothingness.”
This is recreation in process: mentally munching nothingness. The art of the holiday, the art of downing tools and entering a period of Sabbath, is no more than a decision to strip away the wires that tie us, to walk, and sit, with no pressure to spend.
Enjoy your time away, whether that’s a holiday in your own living room, or to some farther shore. I hope it feels like the river when it flows, joyful, surprising and unfolding.
Monday 27 July 2009
Talking to myself after yesterday’s worship service
A friend of mine in the USA sent me the following article early this morning. After my experience of worship yesterday it seemed to be very much addressed to me. So I've done a bit of re-writing on it to make it mine too.
The idea of a Misery Index has been around for a long time — since the early ’70s. It’s actually an economic bellwether that’s determined by factoring inflation and unemployment. Economists reason that when unemployment and inflation are high, that generally spells misery for consumers.
The current Misery Index (for June 2009) is 8.16.
Yesterday was a particularly “low” day in our worship service. It was cold. Many people were away with all manner of ailments, many related to winter. Others had been on holiday and were ill. Others just stayed home, I’m told, because they just don’t feel like coming out at the moment. We struggled with hymns, Bible reading and Prayers. Many parents with children were absent, so our Sunday School was “light on”. I preached as fervently as I could, but the faces looking back at me seemed blank and bored. I came home to a time of “low prayer” – O Lord help me, I feel as if I have been laid low. (Sort of like a ‘Lamentation’.
How does one preach when people are miserable – and the preacher feels miserable too!. Along with the above “winter stuff” I have people in my congregation who have lost their jobs, maybe they might lose their homes, their retirement packages. They’ve watched their stock portfolios plunge in value, and many are delaying retirement because they simply can’t afford to retire right now. People are struggling to make ends meet. How does one preach in such contexts?
This brings me to the Mystery Index, which is suggested to me by what I remember of Gabriel Marcel’s ruminations on the general subject. How one can keep faith and have hope when utterly miserable has got to be the greatest mystery of all time.
Marcel, a philosopher and playwright, has been dead for more than 25 years now, but he’s still worth a read. Called by some a Christian existentialist, he addresses our subject in his book The Mystery of Being, originally delivered as the Gifford Lectures at Harvard.
Although Marcel doesn’t refer to a Mystery Index, in my thinking the Mystery Index is determined by the factors of faith (what Marcel calls “creative fidelity”) and hope. His ideas about being and having, availability and nonavailability are worth review. He says that too often people talk about trying to “have” this or that, when in fact, it isn’t a question of having something, such as love or hope, but being love and hope. A key component in this mystery is how we relate to others. When we make ourselves available to others, we link ourselves with their world and experience. We are present to them and for them, in communication with them. We are at their disposal when they’re in need. They aren’t alone.
When we are present to others, i.e., available to others, they are enabled, or empowered, to be faith and to be hope in miserable times. The problem with faith is that it must be constant and must have someone or something as its object. While God is the ultimate object of faith, our preaching helps mediate that object.
As for hope, Marcel argues that a person who is hope doesn’t accept the current situation as final. Hope isn’t fixed on any particular method of deliverance. Surgery to remove a cancer, for example, may not produce a desired result. But as a person of hope whose hope isn’t linked to a particular soteriological methodology, regardless of a surgical outcome, I am not shaken.
This doesn’t mean that hope is passive or merely a form of stoicism or resignation. Hope might be called “active patience,” and one who is hope is one who knows that God is for him or her, in partnership with him or her.
Our preaching must aim to elevate the Mystery Index, the mystery of faith and hope. It must be a sign that we are making ourselves available to others, helping miserable people become mysterious people! That is, people who understand that their constant faith in God is not misplaced. People of faith and hope are people whose hope and faith shall not go unrewarded.
The alternative is despair, which says that there is nothing — really — worth living for. The reward of faith and hope is that, well, yes, there is much in my current and future reality worth living for. And, by God, I am going to do it. I am going to live — in faith and in hope. In mystery.
The idea of a Misery Index has been around for a long time — since the early ’70s. It’s actually an economic bellwether that’s determined by factoring inflation and unemployment. Economists reason that when unemployment and inflation are high, that generally spells misery for consumers.
The current Misery Index (for June 2009) is 8.16.
Yesterday was a particularly “low” day in our worship service. It was cold. Many people were away with all manner of ailments, many related to winter. Others had been on holiday and were ill. Others just stayed home, I’m told, because they just don’t feel like coming out at the moment. We struggled with hymns, Bible reading and Prayers. Many parents with children were absent, so our Sunday School was “light on”. I preached as fervently as I could, but the faces looking back at me seemed blank and bored. I came home to a time of “low prayer” – O Lord help me, I feel as if I have been laid low. (Sort of like a ‘Lamentation’.
How does one preach when people are miserable – and the preacher feels miserable too!. Along with the above “winter stuff” I have people in my congregation who have lost their jobs, maybe they might lose their homes, their retirement packages. They’ve watched their stock portfolios plunge in value, and many are delaying retirement because they simply can’t afford to retire right now. People are struggling to make ends meet. How does one preach in such contexts?
This brings me to the Mystery Index, which is suggested to me by what I remember of Gabriel Marcel’s ruminations on the general subject. How one can keep faith and have hope when utterly miserable has got to be the greatest mystery of all time.
Marcel, a philosopher and playwright, has been dead for more than 25 years now, but he’s still worth a read. Called by some a Christian existentialist, he addresses our subject in his book The Mystery of Being, originally delivered as the Gifford Lectures at Harvard.
Although Marcel doesn’t refer to a Mystery Index, in my thinking the Mystery Index is determined by the factors of faith (what Marcel calls “creative fidelity”) and hope. His ideas about being and having, availability and nonavailability are worth review. He says that too often people talk about trying to “have” this or that, when in fact, it isn’t a question of having something, such as love or hope, but being love and hope. A key component in this mystery is how we relate to others. When we make ourselves available to others, we link ourselves with their world and experience. We are present to them and for them, in communication with them. We are at their disposal when they’re in need. They aren’t alone.
When we are present to others, i.e., available to others, they are enabled, or empowered, to be faith and to be hope in miserable times. The problem with faith is that it must be constant and must have someone or something as its object. While God is the ultimate object of faith, our preaching helps mediate that object.
As for hope, Marcel argues that a person who is hope doesn’t accept the current situation as final. Hope isn’t fixed on any particular method of deliverance. Surgery to remove a cancer, for example, may not produce a desired result. But as a person of hope whose hope isn’t linked to a particular soteriological methodology, regardless of a surgical outcome, I am not shaken.
This doesn’t mean that hope is passive or merely a form of stoicism or resignation. Hope might be called “active patience,” and one who is hope is one who knows that God is for him or her, in partnership with him or her.
Our preaching must aim to elevate the Mystery Index, the mystery of faith and hope. It must be a sign that we are making ourselves available to others, helping miserable people become mysterious people! That is, people who understand that their constant faith in God is not misplaced. People of faith and hope are people whose hope and faith shall not go unrewarded.
The alternative is despair, which says that there is nothing — really — worth living for. The reward of faith and hope is that, well, yes, there is much in my current and future reality worth living for. And, by God, I am going to do it. I am going to live — in faith and in hope. In mystery.
From "In The thick Of It"
‘The church is on the frontline of efforts to tackle poverty: it is at the heart of poor communities
and shares in their suffering. Pastors and congregations are making a real difference as they roll
their sleeves up, get their hands dirty, offer support and bring communities together. In many
contexts only the church can reach the poorest in this way. And the church could do so much more.
The church as a whole needs to wake up to its God-given mandate and potential to tackle poverty
– at home and overseas ...
THE ARCHBISHOP OF YORK, DR JOHN SENTAMU
and shares in their suffering. Pastors and congregations are making a real difference as they roll
their sleeves up, get their hands dirty, offer support and bring communities together. In many
contexts only the church can reach the poorest in this way. And the church could do so much more.
The church as a whole needs to wake up to its God-given mandate and potential to tackle poverty
– at home and overseas ...
THE ARCHBISHOP OF YORK, DR JOHN SENTAMU
Wednesday 8 July 2009
Whither us at Glenelg
In her book “Christianity for the Rest of Us” Diana Butler Bass makes reference to our future as being bound up with our past. Just recently I’ve been re-reading, being in Glenelg the “birthplace”, as it were, of South Australia, some of the early history of the area but, more importantly, this history of the Glenelg Congregational Church now St. Andrew’s by the Sea Uniting Church.
As a church in the centre of Glenelg St. Andrew’s continues to be a church that each day not only opens its doors, but also its life, to all those who would pass by. And some days they are many indeed. A place to visit, a place to pause, a place to pray on one’s journey from and to.
But the area is changing, not only in its demographics, but in its shopping and recreational life too. We have spoken of ourselves as being “the church in the market place” and “the oldest trader in Jetty Rd and Glenelg”. And so we are. But profound changes are occurring around us and we need to quickly realize that new forms of life as a church are needed of us. What “worked” yesterday may not be the answer to our concerns today. The world about us is new and different. How will we continue to worship, witness and serve in the future? Sure, at times it all seems to be overwhelming, but God still calls us to be faithful people in this context. As Diana Butler Bass says “ .. Christianity is a sacred pathway to someplace better, a journey of transforming ourselves, our faith communities, and our world.”
As a church in the centre of Glenelg St. Andrew’s continues to be a church that each day not only opens its doors, but also its life, to all those who would pass by. And some days they are many indeed. A place to visit, a place to pause, a place to pray on one’s journey from and to.
But the area is changing, not only in its demographics, but in its shopping and recreational life too. We have spoken of ourselves as being “the church in the market place” and “the oldest trader in Jetty Rd and Glenelg”. And so we are. But profound changes are occurring around us and we need to quickly realize that new forms of life as a church are needed of us. What “worked” yesterday may not be the answer to our concerns today. The world about us is new and different. How will we continue to worship, witness and serve in the future? Sure, at times it all seems to be overwhelming, but God still calls us to be faithful people in this context. As Diana Butler Bass says “ .. Christianity is a sacred pathway to someplace better, a journey of transforming ourselves, our faith communities, and our world.”
No wage increase for low paid workers
Felling a bit angry this morning, so a bit of a 'rant'.
Must be hard for Prof. Harper with his knowledge and experience of living on the minimum wage.
Must be hard for Prof. Harper with his knowledge and experience of living on the minimum wage.
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