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Showing posts with label homosexuality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label homosexuality. Show all posts

Wednesday, 31 January 2024

No strangers, only friends you haven’t met yet

Here's the sermon that I shared this morning at St Andrew's Wickford:

A central aspect of God's experience as a human being in the person of Jesus Christ was that of rejection. Jesus was, in the words of Isaiah 53, ‘despised and rejected by others; a man of suffering and acquainted with infirmity; and as one from whom others hide their faces he was despised, and we held him of no account’ (Isaiah 53. 3). We see that rejection here, in this story (Mark 6. 1 – 6), set in his home town at the beginning of his ministry, just as we see it more violently worked out at the end of his ministry when he is crucified.

Rejection is a human experience which we all understand because each us will have experienced rejection at one time or another. It is an experience that God has also shared and therefore understands as we go through our personal experiences of rejection.

But rejection is a human experience which we all understand because it is also something to which each of us is party. As in this story, we find it easy, as human beings, to find reasons to reject other people. It is not so long ago in the history of this country that there were appalling signs in windows saying, 'No Irish, no Blacks, no Dogs'. In our lifetime we have seen whole societies built around the separation of people on the basis of colour, with the Civil Rights and anti-apartheid movements, thankfully, having brought some significant change to those situations of rejection.

Yet, although we have seen change, we continue to see particular groups of people in society demonised, scapegoated and rejected. In the Church today, it is the LGBTI community who have that experience while in society generally, it is migrants, whether refugees or asylum seekers, that are the focus of significant rejection.

When Jesus is rejected, as in our Gospel reading, God is rejected. God, in Jesus, enters in to our experience, as human beings, of rejection. He does so in order to bring to light our constant scapegoating and rejection of others by exposing us to the futility of that way of life. Rejection of others ties us into a cycle of revenge and recrimination locking us in to spirals of violence.

Yet, when we have, as human beings, scapegoated and rejected God himself, what more can we do by way of rejection? The way to free ourselves from these negative cycles is by rejecting the impulse to reject or scapegoat others, in other words by following in the footsteps of Jesus who freely laid down his life for others. It is this to which Christ’s death as a scapegoat on the cross calls us.

Today, while we may not literally see signs saying 'No Irish, no Blacks, no Dogs', similar signs are nevertheless still there is our words and actions although applied to different groups of people at this different time. 'No economic migrants,' even 'No migrants', would seem to be the current cry, while in the Anglican Communion we persist in rejecting people on the basis of their sexuality. For those who follow a God who was scapegoated, reviled and rejected, there can be no scapegoating of others. For those who follow a God who laid down this own life for love of others, there must be a similar breaking of cycles of rejection through our own attitudes, speech and actions.

Instead of being those who reject, we need to become those who invite. The opposite of rejection is not simple acceptance, but active engagement; the invitation to participate in community. The goal of those who are great inviters is “to have everyone participating, giving and receiving gifts.” Abundant community involves welcoming “those on the margins”, “which is the heart of hospitality.” As William Butler Yeats was credited with saying, “There are no strangers here; only friends you haven’t met yet.” May it be so with each one of us. Amen.

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Manfred Mann's Earth Band - Prayer.

Sunday, 23 July 2023

Weeds, Wheat, Fruitfulness and Messy Spirituality

Here's the sermon that I shared this morning at St Mary's Runwell

This story (Matthew 13. 24-30, 36-43) divides people into weeds and wheat. So, who are the weeds and who are the wheat? Our natural tendency as human beings is to want to know and to assume that we are in the wheat camp rather than the weeds camp.

More worryingly, our natural tendency as human beings is probably to try to identify those who are different from us and attempt to weed them out of our community. That is what we call scapegoating and, interestingly, it is a human tendency that the French cultural critic, Rene Girard, suggests is gradually unmasked and exposed by the Bible. Firstly, because the people of Israel sacrifice animals as scapegoats instead of other human beings (as happened in the nations around them at that time) and then as God himself, in Jesus, becomes the ultimate scapegoat bringing an end to the need for any further scapegoating. “Jesus’ ‘strategy’ as the ambassador from a loving, non-violent Father is to expose and render ineffective the scapegoat process so that the true face of God may be known … in the scapegoat, or Lamb of God, not the face of a persecuting deity.”

It’s not difficult to think of times and places in our society where scapegoating occurs. Whether it’s the scapegoating of refugees that characterises the Government’s Illegal Migration Law or the way we view travellers as different from us or, in the Church, the ways in which the LGBTQIA+ have historically been excluded from leadership and some sacraments. Whichever side of those issues we stand on, we need to beware of arguments often made by those at the extremes which would seek to rid us of those who don’t agree with their position because Jesus, in this story, says that it is not our job to pull up the weeds from the field.

It is not our job partly because, if we were to try, we would pull up the wheat with the weeds. In other words, we do not know, as we look around our church, the Anglican Communion, or our society, who are the wheat and who are the weeds. It is God who “searches every heart and understands every motive behind the thoughts” we are told in 1 Chronicles 28. 9 can see what goes on in our hearts, he knows “the secrets of our hearts,” says Psalm 44 and this is because it is God who created our inmost beings and formed us in our mothers’ wombs, as Psalm 139 tell us.

Therefore, it is for God, not us, to make that judgement in his way and in his time. Jesus warns us that it we judge others, we ourselves will be judged by the same measure we use on others (Matthew 7. 1&2). Again, he is saying that it is God’s place to judge, not ours, and, even, that we are likely to be surprised by the judgements that God makes at the end of time. Sometimes, Jesus says, as in Matthew 7. 21-23, that those who appear to be the most religious are actually those who are among the weeds.

So, it is not our job to judge, but God’s, and he will do so in his way and his time. What we need to do is to trust that that is so and we do this by allowing the weeds to grow together with the wheat. In other words, Jesus is commending here the aspect of Anglicanism that, it seems to me, has always been its great strength and glory; its holding together from its inception of ‘catholics’ (with a small ‘c’) and protestants and in more recent centuries its holding together of the diverse streams that have developed within those traditions – anglo-catholicism, evangelicalism, liberalism, the charismatic movement and so on. To hold these things together is, it seems to me, to show absolute trust in God’s ultimate judgement because we are allowing the wheat and the weeds to grow together.

Rowan Williams, in the opening session of the 2008 Lambeth Conference, encouraged the bishops and archbishops present to “find the trust in God and one another that will give us the energy to change in the way God wants us to change.” That is, he said, “the most important thing we can pray for, the energy to change as God wants us to change individually and as a Communion.” But it is trust in God and one another, he says, that will give us this energy.

Why is that? Well, if all our energy is going into pulling up what we think are weeds then our energies are not going into what makes for fruitfulness. Our responsibility is not to be monitors and judges of others but to allow our energies to flow into developing the fruit of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. This won’t happen if we are forever distracted by try to spot and root out weeds but if we trust God to sort out the weeds in his way and time then we can focus on the things that contribute to fruitfulness.

This means that we need to accept what the author Mike Yaconelli called Messy Spirituality. This is the reality “that all of us are in some condition of not-togetherness, even those of us who are trying to be godly.” We’re all a mess, he says, “not only sinful messy, but inconsistent messy, up-and-down messy, in-and-out messy, now-I-believe-now-I-don’t messy, I-get-it-now-I-don’t-get-it messy, I-understand-uh-now-I-don’t understand messy.” Can you identify with that? I know I can.

Yaconelli goes on to claim that Christianity is a messy spirituality for people like us who lead messy lives: “What landed Jesus on the cross, was the preposterous idea that common, ordinary, broken, screwed-up people could be godly! What drove Jesus’ enemies’ crazy was his criticism of the ‘perfect’ religious people and his acceptance of the imperfect, non-religious people. The shocking implication of Jesus’ ministry is that anyone can be spiritual.” To prove his point, he suggests we look at the Bible where we will see that its “pages overflow with messy people” because “the biblical writers didn’t edit out the flaws of its heroes.”

Just look at today’s Old Testament reading (Genesis 28.10-22), where Jacob dreams of angels ascending and descending a ladder from earth to heaven. From the time of his birth, Jacob was associated with trickery and deception. His most notorious acts of trickery were committed against his twin brother Esau. Jacob offered his “famished” brother a bowl of soup in exchange for his birthright as the firstborn son, which was a double portion of his father Isaac’s inheritance. Moreover, Jacob robbed Esau of their father’s blessing, which had been Esau’s right to receive. Nevertheless, Jacob ends up receiving a vision of angels and heaven. That’s nothing if not very messy.

Those who follow God in the pages of scripture are not perfect, far from it, and yet they strive for the perfection of God the Father. We need to be the same, humbly recognising our own fallibilities and therefore bearing with the failings of others yet seeking to change ourselves and supporting others in the changes that they are also able to make. 

So, let us do what Rowan Williams has suggested and pray for the energy to change as God wants us to change, individually and as a church, even as the Anglican Communion: 

Pour down upon us, O God, the gifts of your Holy Spirit, that we may be filled with wisdom and understanding. May we know at work within us that creative energy and vision which belong to our humanity, made in your image and redeemed by your love, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

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M Ward - Epistemology.

Friday, 8 July 2022

Church Times - Glyn Philpot: Flesh and Spirit

My latest piece for Church Times is about 'Glyn Philpot: Flesh and Spirit' at Pallant House Gallery, Chichester:

'... what we see in Balthasar, where Philpot eschews the other Magi to “focus entirely on the African king who brings myrrh to the child Jesus”. “With his head held aloft, he is depicted as empowered, noble and dignified.” He looks not at us, but to the Holy Family, placing us in a privileged position, as if witnessing Balthasar’s arrival among the Holy Family. Philpot paints in this way and with this sensibility because, [Simon] Martin says, “As a queer man, Philpot was a social outsider himself, and so it is tempting to believe that he identified with an outsider of a different sort.”'

My Artlyst piece comparing and contrasting the differences and similarities between Glyn Philpot and Walter Sickert in the light of the overlap in the careers of both artists and the Pallant House Gallery exhibition plus the first major retrospective of Walter Sickert at Tate in over 60 years, is here.

Other of my pieces for Church Times can be found here. My writing for ArtWay can be found here. My pieces for Artlyst are here and those for Art+Christianity are here. See also Modern religious art: airbrushed from art history?

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Friday, 4 August 2017

Church Times: Where Love & Sorrow Meet, A fractious and yet fruitful embrace & From the Polish spirit

This week's edition of Church Times has much that is of interest beginning with its report on the commemorations of the 50th anniversary of the 1967 Sexual Offences Act, which reduced the grounds on which homosexual men could be sent to prison. This includes 'Where Love & Sorrow Meet', a service in St Martin-in-the-Fields, which looked forward as well as back. Click here to read the addresses from that service, including a powerful sermon from Mark Oakley.

Ayla Lepine, an art historian and ordinand, reflects on the idea of the artist-in-residence, and looks at some examples of how it works for churches. Ayla, with Alastair McKay, will also be facilitating taster sessions at Greenbelt from the new online interactive discipleship resource from St Martin-in-the-Fields and the National Gallery, ‘Art and the Bible Story: Inspired to Follow’, which looks at the Biblical story through fine art paintings.

I enter into the world of Polish émigré art, and its link to the hospice pioneer Dame Cicely Saunders, through a review of Art Out of the Bloodlands at Ben Uri Gallery. I have written a wide range of pieces of émigré artists, particularly Polish artists in Britain, and these supplementary articles and posts can be found at: In this review I note that the current exhibition of Polish art at the Ben Uri Gallery, a recent exhibition by Jamaican artists at St Stephen Walbrook, and the current exhibition “I Am” of work by Middle Eastern women artists at St Martin-in-the-Fields (until 20 August) — all opened within days of each other. London is nothing if not cosmopolitan, and the churches continue to contribute to that diversity and our reflection upon it.

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London Gay Men's Chorus - Bridge Over Troubled Water.

Thursday, 29 June 2017

One Commandment: Love one another

Here's my sermon from today's Eucharist at St Stephen Walbrook:

I imagine that some of you have been watching Broken, the gritty drama on the BBC about a Roman Catholic priest and his parishioners. The series feels very real as this priest grapples with his own demons, while seeking to be with and minister to the issues and needs in his parish.

In last Tuesday’s episode, Father Michael had to mediate when one of his parishioner’s Helen Oyenusi, the mother of a son with mental health issues who has been killed by the Police, was visited by her devout brother, Daniel Martin, who then clashed violently with her gay neighbour, Carl McKenna, as all were trying to come to terms with her son, Vernon's, death.

The conflict between Carl and Daniel unfolded with horrid inevitability. Hurt feelings fed by a lifetime of bullying clashed with bigotry fed by scripture, and the result promised to be devastating. Pride—a constant theme of this series—threatened to cause yet more pain. Instead, urged by Helen and Father Michael, Carl’s magnanimity gave us a happy ending. Carl repaid Helen’s kindness and demonstrated his own by dropping the charges against Daniel, a man puffed up with faith-backed intolerance. In a moving statement Helen spoke about the way in which Carl’s mother had loved her son and simply accepted the reality of his sexuality. She said that, ‘Her love was unconditional and that’s exactly how it should be.’

That is what the writer of the Letter of John (1 John 3. 13 - 24) also says: ‘Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action.’ He also said that ‘We know love by this, that he [Jesus] laid down his life for us.’ That is unconditional love, and, as a result, ‘we ought to lay down our lives for one another’ because this is Christ’s commend to us – God’s commandment is ‘that we should believe in the name of his Son Jesus Christ and love one another.’

Jesus and his first disciples lived in a culture where there were 613 commandments in the Torah, the Law of Moses, divided up into 248 positive commandments (Thou shalt's) and 365 negative commandments (Thou shalt not's). The Pharisees had then taken these 613 commandments which were to do with the detail of life - shaving, tattoos, clothing, work, food and drink, farming, money and so on – and multiplied these commandments by creating detailed instructions about the ways in which each of these commandments was to be kept. Keeping all of these additional rules was a heavy burden for all who tried to do so and a point of tension and conflict for Jesus and the Pharisees.

Jesus, by contrast, taught that love was the fulfilling of the Law. Instead of keeping the endless detail of the regulations created by the Pharisees, Jesus said that we should simply love God, ourselves and our neighbours and that all the Law of Moses is actually designed to that end. This was liberating teaching which brought rest for those weighed down by the burden of trying to keep hundreds of commandments and thousands of additional regulations.

When asked to name the greatest commandment, Jesus endorsed the summary of the Law which speaks about love for God, love for ourselves and love for others. St Paul took this teaching to heart and wrote in his letter to the Church in Rome (Romans 13. 8 - 10) saying: ‘The commandments, “You shall not commit adultery; You shall not murder; You shall not steal; You shall not covet”; and any other commandment, are summed up in this word, “Love your neighbour as yourself.” Love does no wrong to a neighbour; therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law.’

He repeats this in his letter to the church in Galatia (Galatians 5. 14) says: ‘the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, “You shall love your neighbour as yourself.”’ He concludes that, ‘in Christ Jesus … the only thing that counts is faith working through love.’

As Christians we are not called to keep 613 specific individual Commandments and are certainly not called to practice the additional detailed instructions relating to them devised by the Pharisees. Instead, there is one simple command which fulfils all the Law, when genuinely practised, and that is the love of which Helen Oyenusi spoke, unconditional love.

The commandment of God is that we should ‘believe in the name of his Son Jesus Christ and love one another, just as he has commanded us.’ All who obey this commandment abide in God, and he abides in them. We know what this love is like because Jesus laid down his life for us and, therefore, this one commandment requires everything of us; that we, too, ought to lay down our lives for others.

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Bruce Cockburn - Strong Hand Of Love.

Friday, 1 January 2016

Beyond tribalism, patriarchy and scapegoating

The sermon that I recently preached at St Martin-in-the-Fields, entitled ‘The Revolutionary Magnificat’, suggested that the subversion of the patriarchal system achieved through the Virgin Birth and the removal of the necessity for procreation through the resurrection opens up space in which to re-imagine marriage, including the possibility of a greater diversity of relational and family structures in society characterised by faithfulness, permanence and fruitfulness.

Having been asked to say more about this suggestion and having read the recent interview with Jeremy Davies in which he said, ”I began to look again at the marriage service. And I thought the theology of marriage is not about a man and a woman,” I thought I would set out here some of the ideas that, in my view, support this suggestion.

The marriage vows, Davies says, are about mutual society, human relationships. “And why shouldn’t two men or two women, who love each other and want to commit their lives to each other for ever, say these things? When the bishops said that clergy who enter into same-sex marriages are not modelling the teaching of the church – yes we are. It is embodied in that vow.”’

The result for the church of our refusal to accept Davies’ perspective, as Jeffrey John has said in an interview with The Times, is that: “In the Church of England we readily bless the second, and even third marriages of couples who never darken our doors, yet we reject hundreds of our own faithful clergy and lay people who long to bring their love and commitment before God and ask his blessing ... Many ... people of goodwill who instinctively expect the Church to uphold justice and truth are scandalised when it so obviously does not."

In a memorable phrase Desmond Tutu spoke of post-apartheid South Africa as being “the rainbow people of God.” That phrase can and should be applied also to the Christian Church in the diversity of those who come together within it to form the Body of Christ.

For the Church to be seen as a rainbow people of God, the full range of its diversity of views and voices need to be heard. Specifically, in the current debate over the definition of marriage, it is essential that the Church, as well as hearing the views and voices of those opposed to same-sex marriage, also hear the views and voices of Christians in favour.

I am thinking of those who see a strong Biblical case for arguing that definitions of marriage are socially determined and not divinely ordained. Those who see Jesus as being the ultimate scapegoat signalling, by his death, the folly and fallacy of all scapegoating of those different from ourselves. Those who see a key aspect of Jesus’ ministry as being to include in the kingdom of God those excluded from the religious structures of his day, with inclusion and equality then being a central facet of Christianity. The voices and views of those who see the institution of marriage being broadened and strengthened by its expansion to include people who value the institution and wish to marry but are currently excluded from doing so.

The Biblical picture of God’s people is of difference and diversity united by our common commitment to Christ. We are not and will not be united by our particular theologies, traditions, or views on particular topics. In this current debate, as in all such debates, we need to hear and respect different perspectives while recognising that our particular views will only divide if they are prioritised. It is only when, acknowledging our differences, we recognise that, despite our differences, we are united by Christ that the Christian Church holds together as the rainbow people of God who, therefore, become the Body of Christ in the world today.

Steve Chalke is among those who have made a significant call for "a new Christian understanding of homosexual relationships" which, in his context, means a revision to Evangelical thinking on the issue. A recent Independent article highlighted Evangelicals who have moved from what has been the traditional position on the issue and Chalke is the most high profile member of this group.

He writes that he felt both compelled and afraid to write his recent article in Christianity: "Compelled because, in my understanding, the principles of justice, reconciliation and inclusion sit at the very heart of Jesus’ message. Afraid because I recognise the Bible is understood by many to teach that the practice of homosexuality, in any circumstance, is ‘a grotesque and sinful subversion’, an ‘objective disorder’ or, perhaps slightly more liberally, ‘less than God’s best’."

Chalke describes the Bible, as I would too, as "the account of an ancient and ongoing conversation where various, sometimes harmonious and sometimes discordant, voices contribute to the gradually growing picture of the character of Yahweh; fully revealed only in Jesus."

For more insight on this, he recommends reading Having Words with God: The Bible as Conversation by Karl Allan Kuhn, endorsed by Walter Brueggemann. Chalke describes Kuhn’s work as introducing "an approach that regards Scripture as a sacred dialogue between God and humanity. Together, he explains, the task of the Church is then to discern and express the character of God, God's will, and what it means to be God's people."

Having Words with God wasn't a book that I had come across previously at the time of Chalke’s article but having read it, it is a book that has significant synergy with my own thinking on the topic of the Bible as conversation as set out in a number of posts on this blog including:


Chalke, in my view, rightly concludes on the issue of Biblical interpretation that:

"The Bible does not always speak with one voice. It is a very diverse collection of books, written in many different times and cultures, containing an array of perspectives, not a few tensions, and even some apparent contradictions. Instead of pretending that this diversity does not exist, our task is to do justice to all these components as well as holding them together with a coherent theological approach ...

The process of understanding the character and will of Yahweh – as revealed through Jesus – is the continuing task for every generation. Therefore, biblical interpretation is not finished, but is the endless, open-ended project of all those who take its text seriously and authoritatively."

Kuhn explains, Chalke says, that Scripture is best understood "as a ‘sacred dialogue’ between God and humanity, as well as among humanity about God, his creation and our role as his image partners; an on-going conversation which God initiates, inspires and participates in among humanity, as his people struggle to discern and express the character of God, God’s will and what it means to be God’s people now and in the future."

As a result, he sees that the principles of justice, reconciliation and inclusion sit at the very heart of Jesus’ message and it is on this basis that he asks: "Rather than condemn and exclude, can we dare to create an environment for homosexual people where issues of self-esteem and wellbeing can be talked about; where the virtues of loyalty, respect, interdependence and faithfulness can be nurtured, and where exclusive and permanent same-sex relationships can be supported?"

Renato Lings' Love Lost in Translation: Homosexuality and the Bible also seems to me to be a substantial contribution to this issue, around which substantial debate could occur. Lings has posted a summary of the main findings of the book on his website but the detail and thoroughness of his Biblical analysis mean that this is a book that must be read and not simply read about:

'For decades, a painful controversy about same-sex relationships has rocked Christian churches, and no solution is in sight. Frequently the Bible is quoted. In response to this crisis, this exciting new book systematically examines the biblical stories and passages that are generally assumed to deal with, or comment on, homoerotic relationships: Noah and Ham, Sodom and Gomorrah, Leviticus 18:22 and 20:13, Deuteronomy 23:17–18, Judges 19, Romans 1:26–27, 1 Corinthians 6:9, 1 Timothy 1:10, and the letter of Jude.

Love Lost in Translation documents how mistranslations of these texts into Greek, Latin and other languages occurred early, and how serious errors are committed by translators today. Biased translations make biased theology. The book proposes a fresh approach to translating the Bible by means of linguistic and literary criteria. The method enables readers to discover the amazing literary sophistication, psychological insights and spiritual depth of the Bible. The final chapter of Love Lost in Translation provides a detailed discussion of biblical texts with life-affirming visions of same-sex love.'

The narratives in the Bible seem to me essentially to accept whatever model of marriage was common in society at the time as normative. So, when polygamy was normal and accepted in society, this was not critiqued by those writing what has since been understood as scripture and similarly when monogamy became the dominant model that was also accepted and not critiqued. On this basis, it seems to me, to be an entirely Biblical position to suggest that the definition of marriage is something which is socially determined and something which can and does change.

The history of approaches to marriage within Church history is similar as all marriages were civil contracts until part-way through the medieval period, only becoming predominantly church ceremonies at the Reformation. Affirmation of the nuclear family is much more recent phenomenon within the Church. The Church has, therefore, viewed a spectrum of relationships – some formal, some informal – as marriage across its history, with celibacy often being the primary stance recommended.

Genesis 2. 24, which is often cited as a divine warrant for the traditional definition of marriage in our culture and within the Church, does not define the nature of marriage at all and thereby leaves completely open the nature of the relationship between the man and the woman beyond the man leaving his parents and having sex with the woman. When this verse is cited as giving the divine warrant to marriage being only between a man and a woman (particularly because of procreation) that view is being read into the text by those who are assuming that that is what God thinks and wants. The text, as text, simply does not say that. In fact, the context for the passage, rather than emphasising procreation, is one of the man and woman as suitable helpers for one another. The reason for the relationship is mutuality of help and support.

We also claim, as Christians, to follow someone who poses some very significant challenges to our understanding of the place of family (Luke 9. 51 - 62). "The obligation to bury one’s father was regarded by many Jews of Jesus’ time as the most holy and binding duty of a son; but Jesus says that that is secondary to the call to follow him and announce God’s kingdom." This call cuts across family life and our traditional understandings of family. Here, even saying goodbye to your family before you leave seems to be criticised by Jesus!

In Matthew 12, when Jesus was told that his mother and brothers were nearby, we read that he said: "Who is my mother? Who are my brothers? … Whoever does what my Father in heaven wants is my brother, my sister, and my mother." Then in Matthew 10 we read of Jesus saying: "Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the world. No, I did not come to bring peace, but a sword. I came to set sons against their fathers, daughters against their mothers, daughters-in-law against their mothers-in-law; your worst enemies will be the members of your own family."

Tom Wright notes in his commentary on this passage that Jesus is quoting from the prophet Micah (Micah 7.6) who predicts the terrible divisions that will always occur when God does a new thing. "Jesus came to bring and establish the new way of being God’s people, and not surprisingly those who were quite happy with the old one, thank you very much, didn’t like it being disturbed." "He didn’t want to bring division within households for the sake of it," Wright says, but "he knew that, if people followed his way, division was bound to follow."

So what is this new way of being God’s people which challenges our more traditional understandings of family life? A recent book by Peter Rollins called The Idolatry of God is very helpful on this question:

"There are so many divisions in society, divisions between political parties, religious traditions and social groups. This is perfectly natural, of course. From birth, we experience a pre-existing matrix of beliefs and practices that differentiate us from others.

We discover early on that we have been given a mantle, that we are part of a tribe, one with a rich history, deep hopes and a variety of fears. The world is full of ‘us’ and ‘them’. Some of these divisions have deep histories that span multiple generations, while others are very new. Some are serious and others border on the ridiculous. But, at their most extreme, these divisions can result in local and global conflicts."

Rollins argues that to leave these divisions behind we need to transcend our given identities: "Whether we are Conservative or Labour, rich or poor, male or female, these various bearers of our identification do not fully contain or constrain us and all too often prevent us from truly experiencing our own humanity."

He suggests that that is what St Paul teaches when he writes to the Galatians saying, "there is no difference between Jews and Gentiles, between slaves and free people, between men and women; you are all one in union with Christ Jesus" (Galatians 3. 28). "Here Paul mentions six distinct tribal identities that were ubiquitous in his time; six identities that can be further subdivided into three, namely the religious (Jew and Gentile), the political (slave and free) and the biological (male and female).

It was not that these different groupings were totally isolated from each other, but the way that each of these groups related to the others was clearly defined and carefully regulated.

These distinctions were justified by the authorities either in terms of a natural law or a divine plan; thus the difference in roles and responsibilities were non-negotiable and were required to maintain social stability."

In Jesus’ ministry though "we find a multitude of references to one who challenged the divisions that were seen as sacred, divisions between Jew and Gentile, male and female, and slave and free. Jesus spoke to tax collectors, engaged with Samaritans and treated women as equals in a world where these were outrageous acts." Jesus, for example, refused to perpetuate the divisions between Jews and Samaritans when his own disciples want to see revenge enacted on a Samaritan village for rejecting them.

More than this, though, in the incarnation we are presented with a picture of God coming down to earth as Jesus and being progressively stripped of all his prior identity as God’s Son. In Philippians 2 we read that he "made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death – even death on a cross!" (2.6-8).

Rollins writes that, "This is called kenosis and describes the act of self-emptying. This is most vividly expressed in the crucifixion, where we see Christ occupying the place of the complete outsider, embracing the life of one who is excluded from the political system, the religious community, and the cultural network."

To do this is to cut through the divisions which exist in society because of our different tribal identities. This is what Jesus means when he says he brings a sword into the world. He cuts into "the very heart of all tribal allegiances, bringing unity to what was previously divided":

"There is no change biologically (male or female), religiously (Jew or Greek) or politically (slave or free). Yet nothing remains the same, for these identities are now drained of their operative power and no longer hold us in the way that they once did. These identities no longer need to separate us from each other."

Our "concrete identity continues to exist, but it is now held differently and does not dictate the scope and limitations of one’s being. Paul expresses this powerfully when he writes:

What I mean, brothers and sisters, is that the time is short. From now on those who have wives should live as if they do not; those who mourn, as if they did not; those who are happy, as if they were not; those who buy something, as if it were not theirs to keep; those who use the things of the world, as if not engrossed in them. For this world in its present form is passing away. (1 Corinthians 7.29-31)

What we witness here are concrete references to three different categories: (1) relationships, (2) the things that happen to us, and (3) the things we own. For Paul, these continue to exist, but we are to hold them differently from the way we previously did. We are no longer to act as though we are defined by the things we own, the things that happen to us, or the relationships we have. While these continue to be important, we must hold them in a way that ensures they do not have an inescapable grasp upon us.

Paul understands this radical cut as emanating directly from one’s identity with Christ, for Paul understands participation in the life of Christ as involving the loss of power that our various tribal identities once held for us."

At the Eucharist we commemorate the act in which Jesus let go of every identity by which he was known, becoming nothing, in order that we might come into a new life within the family or kingdom of God where all are one and where there is no Jew or Greek, no slave or free, no male or female.

Our traditional understandings of marriage and the tribalism and identities it brings are also subverted by the Virgin Birth. The primary purpose of patriarchy is to assure the man of the legitimacy of his offspring. “Patriarchy's investment in systems that ensure proof of authorial possession results from the necessity of overcoming male anxiety over the ultimate uncertainty of biological paternity. Although the woman always knows she is the mother - through her physical connection with the developing foetus - the man never knows for sure that he is the father, and thus has a high stake in maintaining a system by which he can claim paternal ‘ownership’.” (Amelia Jones, quoted in Re-Enchantment)

But, as we know, in the Nativity story Joseph is not the father of Jesus and does not know whether Mary has slept with another man or not. A different role is asked of Joseph from that of the Patriarch; that of being the guardian and foster-father of Jesus. So, Jesus' birth occurs outside of or at a tangent to patriarchal systems or structures. Jesus, himself, is a man who doesn’t marry and who has no physical offspring - the furtherance of his 'seed' is of no interest to him. His emphasis is on his followers as his family, rather than his blood and adoptive relatives. His death is for the entire family of God - all people everywhere – and he teaches that after the resurrection people will neither marry or be given in marriage.

As a result, the philosopher Thierry De Duve has suggested that the: “great invention, the great coup of Christianity”, resulting from the Virgin Birth, “is to short-circuit” patriarchal ownership and a “production line that fabricates sons” (Re-Enchantment). Similarly, Robert Song has argued that the advent of Christ changes our understandings of sexuality because there is a “fundamental shift in horizons brought about the resurrection.” In the resurrection life there will be no marrying or giving in marriage, Jesus says, and behind his thinking is the idea that where there is no death, there will be no need for birth or marriage. Subverting the patriarchal system through the Virgin Birth and removing the necessity for procreation through the resurrection opens up space in which to re-imagine marriage, including the possibility of a greater diversity of relational and family structures in society characterised by faithfulness, permanence and fruitfulness. Robert Song calls these “faithful covenanted relationships”; committed relationships which are sexually active but non-procreative.

As Peter Rollins noted God's revelation in Jesus continues a subversion of the human story of violence that actually began in the Old Testament. René Girard suggests that the story of Cain and Abel reveals the way in which we consistently act as human beings. We desire something that is possessed by someone else and become disturbed through our longing for what we don’t have. We resolve our disturbance by creating a scapegoat of the person or people who appear to have or prevent us from having what it is we desire. When the scapegoat is killed we can gain what we desire and also release the sense of disturbance that we feel.

This pattern becomes expressed in religions involving human sacrifices as scapegoats to appease their gods. It is out of such religions that Abraham is called to form a people who do not sacrifice other human beings, but instead use animals as their scapegoats and sacrifices. Jesus is later born into this people who have subverted the existing practice of scapegoating and he further subverts this practice because, as he is crucified, God becomes the scapegoat that is killed.

The crucifixion is, therefore, the logical outcome of the incarnation. Sam Wells explores in Nazareth Manifesto that God is not simply 'for' victims. God is 'with' victims, because God is a victim. God is not simply 'for' the excluded. God is 'with' the excluded, because God is excluded. God is not simply 'for' those who are scapegoated. God is 'with' scapegoats, because God is a scapegoat. When God is scapegoated, there is no longer any god to appease and the necessity for scapegoating is superceded, subverted and eradicated.

This is the reality in which Christianity calls us to live. A world beyond scapegoating, beyond victimisation and beyond exclusion. A world in which the mechanisms for justifying and acting out our violent desires have been dismantled and rendered null and void. A world, as Barbara Brown Taylor has said, in which we ‘keep deciding not to hate the haters, … keep risking the fatal wound of love and teaching others to do the same — because that is how we prepare the ground around us to receive the seeds of heaven when they come.’

Within this new reality a greater diversity of relational and family structures in society characterised by faithfulness, permanence and fruitfulness, including same-sex marriages, is, I think, biblically warranted.  

Some of this is also expressed in more meditative and poetic form in my Alternative Nine Lessons and Carols post.

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U2 - Ordinary Love.

Thursday, 19 March 2015

Airbrushed from Art History: Paul Thek

'Though overlooked by much of the American art establishment, Paul Thek’s ephemeral installations and collaborative strategies continue to inform and influence a generation of younger artists. (Whitney Museum of American Art)

'Unlike that of his contemporaries in the 1960s who were making work regarded as minimalism, Paul Thek’s work was messy, representational and auto-biographical and involved personal insight and spirituality. A sculptor, painter, and one of the first artists to create environments or installations, Thek came to recognition showing his sculptures in New York galleries in the 1960s. The first works exhibited, Technological Reliquaries, which he began making in 1964 are sometimes referred to as ‘meat pieces’ as they were meant to resemble flesh. At the end of the sixties, Thek left for Europe, where he created extraordinary environments, incorporating elements from art, literature, theatre, and religion, often employing fragile and ephemeral substances, including wax and latex.' (The Modern Institute)

'The idea of “Procession” lies deep in the heart of all of Thek’s work and life, which were conjoined in an always-evolving experience that was ephemeral or nomadic, unfixed, collaborative, full of ritual, and anti-concrete. An early work, Pyramid/A Work in Progress (1971–1972), is a room-size encampment of sorts in which multiple sculptures and found objects were connected by elaborate ad hoc walkways and passages. Begun as a monthlong process of environmental creation with the loose cadre of artists known as Artist’s Co-op, the work was called by Thek both a “time temple” and a “life theatre” and exemplified his approach to mythic, personal art as well as camp theatricality, sensual spirituality, and communal creativity.' (Walker Art Center)

'Thek once told Swiss art historian and curator Harald Szeemann, "Art is Liturgy, and if the public responds to their sacred character, then I hope I realized my aim, at least at that instance." To Thek, a Brooklyn-born boy raised Catholic, art had to have a religious aspect, usually one that revolved around martyrdom or decay.' (Out)

Dr. Stefan Kraus of Kolumba, the Museum of the Archdiocese of Cologne, says:

'... in the case of Thek, it is hard to ignore the fact that he engaged throughout his life with the central questions of Christianity. The discovery of a written description of one of his Fishmen as ‘Birth and Death Fishman in Excelsis – Great Flesh Explosion’ thus confirmed our view of this state of uncertainty between life and death ...

[Art is Liturgy] is quoted from a comment made by Thek in conversation with Harald Szeemann, when he named the late-medieval theologian Meister Eckhart and the Holy Scripture among his key sources. The exhibition explores this claim, as well as the possibility of its opposite – the extent to which liturgy itself might be art. Liturgy gives a communicable form to belief, allows it to be experienced via the senses, becoming transformed into a reality of its own. This claim to a distinct reality beyond the factual, the rational or even the illustrative is something shared by art and religion.'

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Communards - Never Can Say Goodbye.

Thursday, 8 January 2015

Jazz Age Catholicism

Martha Hanna has provided a helpful review of Jazz Age Catholicism: Mystic Modernism in Postwar Paris, 1919-1933 by Stephen Schloesser:

'Jazz Age Catholicism offers an original, insightful, and penetrating analysis of an important moment in the cultural history of modern France. It argues that pervasive collective bereavement in the aftermath of World War I prompted a profound cultural shift in elite French society that made Catholicism—dismissed only a few years earlier as retrograde, essentially out of step with the modern world, and archaic—a vibrant and consoling cultural option for many of France's most innovative and creative minds ... prominent French Catholic thinkers and artists embraced modernity not by wholesale rejection of the past but by effecting a synthesis of medieval and modern philosophical principles and artistic forms. At the forefront of this experiment in Catholic renewal and redefinition were Jacques Maritain, Georges Bernanos, Georges Rouault, and Charles Tournemire. Refusing to abandon the philosophic and aesthetic traditions of the Catholic past—whether Scholasticism in philosophy (in the case of Maritain) or Gregorian chant in music (as was Tournemire's striking accomplishment)—each of Schloesser's subjects "formulat[ed] traditional Catholic ideas in modernist guise" ...

Schloesser's ... willingness to think about how sexual modernity (epitomized in the 1920's by homosexuality) often coincided with a deep respect for cultural order—most evident in Jean Cocteau's abiding friendship with, and respect for, Jacques and Raissa Maritain—offers us a new way to understand the modernist initiatives of inter-war Catholicism: "la main tendue,"once understood only as the outstretched hand that hoped to bring Catholics and Communists together, emerges here as another form of cultural rapprochement, equally unexpected by the standards of the pre-war era, by which Catholics and homosexuals could find common ground.

Jazz Age Catholicism contributes in two significant ways to our understanding of twentieth-century French cultural history: first, it prompts a serious reconsideration of the role played by, and the cultural attraction of, Catholicism in the aftermath of World War I; second, it contributes importantly to a scholarly re-assessment of the cultural consequences of the war itself.'

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Charles Tournemire - l'Orgue Mystique - L'Ascension.

Saturday, 1 March 2014

Love lost in translation - a possible source for substantial debate

The Church Times carries reports of Bishops seeking to show regret for how "divisive" the House of Bishops' pastoral statement on same-sex marriage had been.

The article says that the Archbishop of York, Dr Sentamu, has described the statement, which he signed a fortnight ago, as "Anglican fudge". While the Bishop of Oxford, the Rt Revd John Pritchard, issued a very carefully worded and pastorally appropriate letter to clergy in his diocese on Wednesday.

Bishop Pritchard also said that he accepted most people would not change their minds during the facilitated conversations recommended by the Pilling Report. This, it seems to me, is a key aspect of what is at the heart of the current impasse on this issue; the processes of dialogue that have been and are being initiated are not resulting in greater understanding of the issue because most participants enter the dialogue from entrenched positions. At the heart of this is our differing understandings of scripture and the reality that, for all the excellent biblical and theological work that has been done on the issue in recent years, this has not, to date, succeeded in moving the dialogue onto more constructive ground.

This is, in part, because much of that work does not seem to have been given prominence in the formal dialogue processes which the Church of England and the Anglican Communion has been using but also because that work has not perhaps, to date, been widely seen as sufficiently robust biblically to challenge the current and traditional consensus. Renato Lings' Love Lost in Translation: Homosexuality and the Bible seems to me to be a substantial contribution to this issue around which substantial debate could occur.

Lings has posted a summary of the main findings of the book on his website but the detail and thoroughness of his Biblical analysis mean that this is a book that must be read and not simply read about:

"For decades, a painful controversy about same-sex relationships has rocked Christian churches, and no solution is in sight. Frequently the Bible is quoted. In response to this crisis, this exciting new book systematically examines the biblical stories and passages that are generally assumed to deal with, or comment on, homoerotic relationships: Noah and Ham, Sodom and Gomorrah, Leviticus 18:22 and 20:13, Deuteronomy 23:17–18, Judges 19, Romans 1:26–27, 1 Corinthians 6:9, 1 Timothy 1:10, and the letter of Jude.

Love Lost in Translation documents how mistranslations of these texts into Greek, Latin and other languages occurred early, and how serious errors are committed by translators today ... The book proposes a fresh approach to translating the Bible by means of linguistic and literary criteria. The method enables readers to discover the amazing literary sophistication, psychological insights and spiritual depth of the Bible."

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The Danielson Famile - We Don't Say Shut Up.

Wednesday, 19 February 2014

Love lost in translation

My retreat reading has been Love Lost in Translation: Homosexuality and the Bible by the Quaker scholar Renato Lings:

'For decades, a painful controversy about same-sex relationships has rocked Christian churches, and no solution is in sight. Frequently the Bible is quoted. In response to this crisis, this exciting new book systematically examines the biblical stories and passages that are generally assumed to deal with, or comment on, homoerotic relationships: Noah and Ham, Sodom and Gomorrah, Leviticus 18:22 and 20:13, Deuteronomy 23:17–18, Judges 19, Romans 1:26–27, 1 Corinthians 6:9, 1 Timothy 1:10, and the letter of Jude.

Love Lost in Translation documents how mistranslations of these texts into Greek, Latin and other languages occurred early, and how serious errors are committed by translators today. Biased translations make biased theology. The book proposes a fresh approach to translating the Bible by means of linguistic and literary criteria. The method enables readers to discover the amazing literary sophistication, psychological insights and spiritual depth of the Bible. The final chapter of Love Lost in Translation provides a detailed discussion of biblical texts with life-affirming visions of same-sex love.'

This wonderfully well written, fascinating, detailed, apposite and illuminating book was particularly relevant reading, given the House of Bishops Pastoral Guidance on Same Sex Marriage issued at the weekend.

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Jesus and Mary Chain - God Help Me.

Saturday, 13 July 2013

Boundary Breaker I

Part 1 of my latest six-part poem entitled 'Boundary Breaker':

Our enemy, my friend.
Titus, dressed in your lorica plumata,
paludamentum flaring round you in the breeze
and fastened at your shoulder,
the very image of the professional officer;
vine-stick as symbol of your authority
to order this one to "Go" and that one to "Come".
"Go," "Come," "Do this," "Do that,"
and your servant, your slave, simply acts.
Yet this man that you order so and so
is dear to you, very dear, sharing your bed,
your own pais, ailing and sick,
for whom you will intercede.
Our enemy, their friend,
my elders testify to me; you love our people,
your built our synagogue, your love
radical in action crosses boundaries of race,
religion, sexuality and class.
Your love is faith in action.
If faith without deeds is dead,
your faith is alive, more so than any in Israel.

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Paul Simon - Love And Hard Times.

Tuesday, 15 January 2013

Steve Chalke, the Bible, Conversation and Homosexuality

Christianity columnist Steve Chalke has made a significant call for "a new Christian understanding of homosexual relationships" which, in this context, means a revision to Evangelical thinking on the issue. A recent Independent article highlighted Evangelicals who have moved from what has been the traditional position on the issue and Chalke now becomes the most high profile member of this group.

He writes that he felt both compelled and afraid to write his article: "Compelled because, in my understanding, the principles of justice, reconciliation and inclusion sit at the very heart of Jesus’ message. Afraid because I recognise the Bible is understood by many to teach that the practice of homosexuality, in any circumstance, is ‘a grotesque and sinful subversion’, an ‘objective disorder’ or, perhaps slightly more liberally, ‘less than God’s best’."

Chalke describes the Bible, as I would too, as "the account of an ancient and ongoing conversation where various, sometimes harmonious and sometimes discordant, voices contribute to the gradually growing picture of the character of Yahweh; fully revealed only in Jesus." 

For more insight on this, he recommends reading Having Words with God: The Bible as Conversation by Karl Allan Kuhn, endorsed by Walter Brueggemann. Chalke describes Kuhn’s work as introducing "an approach that regards Scripture as a sacred dialogue between God and humanity. Together, he explains, the task of the Church is then to discern and express the character of God, God's will, and what it means to be God's people."

Having Words with God isn't a book that I had come across previously but having looked at its contents online, it seems to be a book that has significant synergy with my own thinking on the topic of the Bible as conversation as set out in a number of posts on this blog including:
Chalke, in my view, rightly concludes on the issue of Biblical interpretation that:

"The Bible does not always speak with one voice. It is a very diverse collection of books, written in many different times and cultures, containing an array of perspectives, not a few tensions, and even some apparent contradictions. Instead of pretending that this diversity does not exist, our task is to do justice to all these components as well as holding them together with a coherent theological approach ...

The process of understanding the character and will of Yahweh – as revealed through Jesus – is the continuing task for every generation. Therefore, biblical interpretation is not finished, but is the endless, open-ended project of all those who take its text seriously and authoritatively."

Kuhn explains, Chalke says, that Scripture is best understood "as a ‘sacred dialogue’ between God and humanity, as well as among humanity about God, his creation and our role as his image partners; an on-going conversation which God initiates, inspires and participates in among humanity, as his people struggle to discern and express the character of God, God’s will and what it means to be God’s people now and in the future."

As a result, he sees that the principles of justice, reconciliation and inclusion sit at the very heart of Jesus’ message and it is on this basis that he asks: "Rather than condemn and exclude, can we dare to create an environment for homosexual people where issues of self-esteem and wellbeing can be talked about; where the virtues of loyalty, respect, interdependence and faithfulness can be nurtured, and where exclusive and permanent same-sex relationships can be supported?"

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Julie Miller - River Where Mercy Flows.

Saturday, 17 March 2012

One week in the Church: steps forward and back

Most of this week has, for me, been taken up with training. Part one of an excellent Training Incumbents course took place over three days at our Diocesan House of Retreat at Pleshey. In addition to the opportunity to share the experience of the other incumbents on the course it was great to find that the Church of England is finally applying good practice in assessment and supervision to the training of curates in a more rigorous and comprehensive way than was the case during my curacy rather less than ten years ago. There is still fine tuning to be done on the systems currently in use and we had some honest and straight debate on those issues but the developments which have been made are significant.

From Pleshey I went to City Temple for a seminar on Social Enterprise Leadership entitled Doing Business, Doing Good organised by Jubilee +. Once again, it was interesting and encouraging to see the Church understanding and applying good practice in ways which complement our mission and ministry.

Aspects of the Bible narrative which have economic implications were summarised by Martin Charlesworth from the Genesis commands for cultivation and development through understandings of land ownership among the people of Israel in the Promised Land to Jesus' disciples sharing a common purse and business support for mission in the Early Church. Two excellent Social Enterprise case studies were provided in Create and The Grow Organisation.

Lord Wei argued that Social Enterprises help build kingdom values by: creating the conditions for systemic change through serving those in need; enabling people of peace to come into the kingdom; and enabling God to call those who come to choose what they can do to change society. Collaborative capitalism involves reducing our obligations and the cost of living in order to generate a greater surplus to invest in the kingdom economy. He spoke about work with churches in Shoreditch, with which he is involved, as a kingdom colony where churches are taking it in turns to launch social enterprises and create incubator spaces for social enterprises.

In my view, these are examples of the Church gradually getting it right, both in the way we develop our own ministers and in the way we minister within our current culture. We are simultaneously surrounded too by examples of the Church continuing to get it wrong in both respects.

The decision of Rowan Williams to resign as Archbishop of Canterbury at the end of 2012 raises in several different respects the issue of how we work and treat each other as ministers within the Church. Several different commentators have noted that the tragedy of his time as Archbishop was that he "allowed himself to be bullied into asking Jeffrey John to withdraw his name as a candidate for the Bishop of Reading after a worldwide storm broke when the appointment of a gay man as a bishop was announced." This was the point from which, as Giles Fraser notes

"whilst his instincts may have been gay friendly, his increasing appreciation that the African church was dead against any accommodation with homosexuality made him side with the conservatives. He wanted a global Anglican community built around core values. And so, in effect, he became a split personality – with Williams the man at odds with Williams the archbishop."

What he has done, as the Church Mouse has written, is to demonstrate a "model of servant leadership, suppressing his own personal opinions to allow a consensus from the wider church to emerge" and has had, as a result, to endure "disgraceful behaviour from individuals and churches who have failed to show a fraction of the grace as members of the Church that Rowan has in leading it." Few Archbishops, Giles Fraser has written, "have had to face such sustained invective and vitriol."

Church Mouse sums it up well:

"Liberals felt let down that he didn't stand up for the views he expressed prior to his appointment. Conservatives felt that he allowed the church to drift in a liberal direction, further from their view of sound Biblical teaching. Both should now simply thank him for his undoubted humble service and total commitment during an utterly bruising ten years, and offering their prayers for the future."

As Rowan said, in the interview he gave following his announcement, the worst aspect of the job "is the sense that there are some conflicts that won't go away, however long you struggle with them." The gay issue which has bedevilled his time as Archbishop is, of course, centre stage once again through the Government's consultation on equal civil marriage and the significant Church campaign to oppose the Government's legislative plans. Jeffery John appears to have made some apposite comments on this campaign in an interview with The Times.

It seems to me, that the Biblical basis claimed for marriage by those opposing the legislation is based primarily on traditional assumptions made about the meaning of passages. The narratives in the Bible seem to me essentially to accept whatever model of marriage was common in society at the time as normative. So, when polygamy was normal and accepted in society, this was not critiqued by those writing what has since been understood as scripture and similarly when monogamy became the dominant model that was also accepted and not critiqued. On this basis, it seems to me, to be an entirely Biblical position to suggest that the definition of marriage is something which is socially determined and something which can and does change.

Genesis 2. 24, which is often cited as a divine warrent for the traditional definition of marriage in our culture and within the Church, makes no mention of marriage at all and thereby leaves completely open the nature of the relationship between the man and the woman beyond the man leaving his parents and having sex with the woman. When this verse is cited as giving the divine warrent to marriage being only between a man and a woman, that view is being read into the text by those who are assuming that that is what God thinks and wants. The text, as text, simply does not say that.

The result, as Jeffery John appears to have said, is that:

“In the Church of England we readily bless the second, and even third marriages of couples who never darken our doors, yet we reject hundreds of our own faithful clergy and lay people who long to bring their love and commitment before God and ask his blessing ... Many ... people of goodwill who instinctively expect the Church to uphold justice and truth are scandalised when it so obviously does not."

Do to others as you would have them do to you
Love your neighbour as you love yourself
Access for All
No ‘No Irish, Blacks or Dogs’
Food for need, not for greed
Marriage for gay, as for straight
Break the glass ceiling for women
Love your neighbour as you love yourself
Do to others as you would have them do to you

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Madness - One Step Beyond.

Thursday, 3 September 2009

Greenbelt diary (4)

Sunday morning I was offsite as we attended the main service at St Giles in Uley, the village where we were staying. Revd. Ian Gardener, from Dursley Parish Church, led the service and preached an excellent sermon on having the courage to ask the difficult questions - very appropriate for a Greenbelt weekend! Ian was also interested to hear something of our experiences of ministry when we talked after the service.

Some of those difficult questions were being asked when I did get back to the Festival later in the day. There was a large crowd to hear Gene Robinson speak on sexuality and spirituality. His was a very considered contribution which highlighted the earthy ever-present nature of sexuality in the Hebrew scriptures and the Jewish tradition generally, most notably in the Song of Songs. He spoke about each of us as sexual beings and emphasised that the incarnation means that Jesus too was a sexual being. Jesus understood the need we have for a soul mate (i.e. 'the disciple that Jesus loved') and was criticised for his radical respect of women. At the heart of both the incarnation and a wholesome, holistic sexuality is the making of ourselves vulnerable with another. Sex, at its best, is a learning laboratory for vulnerability and a means of becoming good steward's of another person's vulnerability.

Robinson needs to be heard, particularly by his opponents, as he, and what he has come to stand for in the Anglican Communion, is grounded in an understanding of scripture and the Christian tradition. His opponents often characterise him as playing fast and loose with scripture and present their interpretation of scripture as being God's word on the issue of homosexuality but the reality is that on both sides of the debate what we are grappling with are our interpretations of scripture which are not definitive. Hearing Robinson unpack his understanding of scripture is to hear a man with a real and live spirituality.

Alistair McIntosh in this photo appears to have a minimal audience but we had all retreated to the stands by this stage because of the cold. McIntosh presented a dystopic vision of the future by arguing that our response to climate change is too little too late and that it is probable that there is now insufficient time as well as insufficient political will to make the changes that are required. He cited Abbé Pierre's understanding of the atonement as explanation of where we are in relation to climate change; seeing ourselves as addicts who have imprisoned ourselves. He spoke movingly about premature death of his baby and linked this to our need as human beings to look death in the face in order to look through death into life. We need the spirit of Jeremiah, he suggested, as we face the consequences of our consumerist addiction and seek, through community with others, our world and with God, to recover what it means to be truly human.
Margaret Barker, although a Biblical scholar as opposed to an activist, is deeply concerned to highlight the environmental implication of understanding the Temple theology which she argues underpins both the teaching of the Old Testament, Jesus and the Early Church. In her session she gave a brief synopsis of Temple theology. In her view, the structure of the tabernacle and Temple are based on the six days of creation revealing the different relationships in creation itself. Barker's ideas suggest that eternity is an ever-present reality, the kingdom, into which Jesus understood himself to be bringing us, through his death on the cross which completes the New Creation. Having come through the veil into the Holy of Holies, we are now angels and saints, in Barker's view.
This is the second time that I have heard Barker speak (click here for a post about the first occasion) and I keep waiting for more radical consequences for the way in which Jesus understood himself and his teaching from this model than actually seems to arrive in what Barker says. Perhaps I need to go beyond her introduction to Temple Theology in order to find this.
I then finally heard Rob Bell, along what must have been the biggest crowd that any speaker drew over the weekend, when he was interviewed at the Jerusalem stage by, I think, Martin Wroe. I described Bell to someone who hadn't heard him as intelligent on the scriptures, post-modern in his presentation, and evangelical in his theology. That seemed a reasonable description of his contribution to this conversation. What stayed most in the memory was his commitment to living a 'normal' life despite the popularity of his book, church, and film ministries and his summary of Christianity in 10 words or less (which was roughly): whatever tiny signs of hope you find are real.

Chris Dingle's argument that music stops time seemed to be borne out with the contrasting concerts which ended Sunday. The Greenbelt Festival Orchestra played a selection of works by Sir John Tavener, by intercutting the seven sections of The Protecting Veil with a selection of his choral works drawn mainly from The Veil Of The Temple. This was blissfully beautiful music in which the sense of time passing was suspended. On a more intellectual level, however, I do question the appropriateness of sectioning up a work like The Protecting Veil which, although moving through seven sections to its completion, features an almost continuous cello line that was broken by the decision not to perform the work as a continuous whole.

Duke Special was the polar opposite of the Tavener; gothic theatrical vaudeville with a compassionate core, a dramatic high energy set that was never less than engaging. His MySpace page describes him as "the fucked up ringmaster of a broken down circus, the lead dancer in a forgotten ballroom of ghosts, the loudest singer in a midnight choir and the first on his knees in an old time revival tent" and all of those facets were on show in this performance. "Everybody wants a little something good," is what he sang and that's exactly what we got.

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Duke Special - No Cover Up.

Sunday, 26 July 2009

The art of conversation

I have on more than one occasion recently (see here and here) argued that inter-faith dialogue provides an opportunity for the development of a broader understanding of interaction with those who are different from my or ourselves; that it can both provide a basis for a new approach to morality and give an insight into the nature of the Trinity.

The necessity for such understandings have been reinforced for me by the reaction to decisions made recently by the deputies and bishops of The Episcopal Church and the posts regarding CMS and Greenbelt. What passes for debate on such issues is often anything but, primarily because there is no real desire to understand, respect or value the other. So, in the CMS/Greenbelt furore, for example, those who understand themselves to be abused by their opponents as "bigoted, blinkered, homophobic, narrow-minded" etc. respond in the exactly the same vein by posting about gay bishop poster boys with a "sadly amaturish biblical hermeneutic" and equating gay christian organisations with the BNP.

Such positions are taken and abuse meted out because people have already made up their minds on these issues before hearing any argument from their opponents and, therefore, they believe that they have nothing to learn from their opponents. This is the reverse of what has to occur when real and meaningful inter-faith dialogue takes place, as can be seen, for example, in the ten ethical guidelines drawn up by the Christian Muslim Forum which set out how Christians and Muslims can talk about their faith to each other in a way that is just, truthful and compassionate:
1) We bear witness to, and proclaim our faith not only through words but through our
attitudes, actions and lifestyles.
2) We cannot convert people, only God can do that. In our language and methods we
should recognise that people’s choice of faith is primarily a matter between themselves and
God.
3) Sharing our faith should never be coercive; this is especially important when working with
children, young people and vulnerable adults. Everyone should have the choice to accept or
reject the message we proclaim and we will accept people’s choices without resentment.
4) Whilst we might care for people in need or who are facing personal crises, we should
never manipulate these situations in order to gain a convert.
5) An invitation to convert should never be linked with financial, material or other
inducements. It should be a decision of the heart and mind alone.
6) We will speak of our faith without demeaning or ridiculing the faiths of others.
7) We will speak clearly and honestly about our faith, even when that is uncomfortable or
controversial.
8) We will be honest about our motivations for activities and we will inform people when
events will include the sharing of faith.
9) Whilst recognising that either community will naturally rejoice with and support those who
have chosen to join them, we will be sensitive to the loss that others may feel.
10) Whilst we may feel hurt when someone we know and love chooses to leave our faith, we
will respect their decision and will not force them to stay or harass them afterwards.

These are guidelines which those on both sides of the current debates in the Anglican Communion would do well to study and apply. If we could begin to debate controversial issues from a similar starting point, our debates could be much more productive.

Jonathan Sacks, the Chief Rabbi, writes in The Dignity of Difference:

“We must learn the art of conversation, from which truth emerges not, as in Socratic dialogues, by the refutation of falsehood but by the quite different process of letting our world be enlarged by the presence of others who think, act, and interpret reality in ways radically different from our own.”

When we do this, when we “recognize God’s image in someone who is not in my image, whose language, faith, ideals, are different from mine” then we are allowing God to remake us in his image instead of making God in our own image. And to do so has moral outworkings, as Sacks notes when he writes:

“I believe that we are being summoned by God to see in the human other a trace of the divine Other. The test – so lamentably failed by the great powers of the twentieth century – is to see the divine presence in the face of a stranger; to heed the cry of those who are disempowered in this age of unprecedented powers; who are hungry and poor and ignorant and uneducated, whose human potential is being denied the chance to be expressed. That is the faith of Abraham and Sarah, from whom the great faiths, Judaism, Christianity and Islam, trace their spiritual or actual ancestry. That is the faith of one who, though he called himself but dust and ashes, asked of God himself, ‘Shall the judge of all the earth not do justice?’ We are not gods, but are summoned by God – to do His work of love and justice and compassion and peace.”

Richard Middleton and Brian Walsh make similar points when they write that:

“in this covenantal worldview, all of creation is subjective, all of creation speaks. The task of human knowing, in all of its forms, is to translate that creational glossolalia into human terms … An epistomology intent on listening to our covenantal partners (God and the rest of creation) will decidely not silence the voice of the other … In response to the gift of creation, we are called as stewards to a knowing that opens up the creation in all of its integrity and enhances its disclosure. Rather than engaging the real world as masters, we are invited to be image-bearing rulers. Our knowing does not create or integrate reality. Rather we respond to a created and integrated reality in a way that either honors and promotes that integration or dishonors it. We are called to reciprocate the Creator’s love in our epistomological stewardship of this gift. Wright describes such an epistomology of love beautifully when he says, “The lover affirms the reality and the otherness of the beloved. Love does not seek to collapse the beloved in terms of itself.” In a relational and stewardly epistemology, “ ‘love’ will mean ‘attention’: the readiness to let the other be the other, the willingness to grow and change in relation to the other.””

Like Middleton and Walsh, I have also written (in Living with other faiths) that there is a biblical, theological and philosophical grounding for such dialogue in the Christian tradition. I believe that this grounding begins with the exchange that is at the heart of the Trinity, takes in both the conversations between human beings and God which repeatedly occur in scripture and the dialogical form of scripture itself, and accepts the philosophical perception that human identity is constructed through conversation.

Drawing on the philosophical thought of Martin Buber and Emmanuel Levinas, Rowan Williams has written that, “all human identity is constructed through conversations, in one way or another.” First, we have to become aware of someone other than ourselves. Jonathan Sacks says, “we must learn to listen and be prepared to be surprised by others … make ourselves open to their stories, which may profoundly conflict with ours … we must learn the art of conversation, from which truth emerges … by the … process of letting our world be enlarged by the presence of others who think, act, and interpret reality in ways radically different from our own.”

Second, by these conversations we become aware of ourselves. As people, we are not autonomous constructions. Instead, our individual identities are gifted to us by the people, events, stories and histories that we encounter as we go through life. If there was no one and nothing outside of ourselves we would have no reference points in life, no way of knowing what is unique and special about ourselves. In conversations we become aware of how we differ from others and therefore what is unique about ourselves.

Finally, in conversations we also become aware of what we have in common with others. Conversation is something that you can only do with someone else. Therefore, Charles Taylor has argued that, opening a conversation is to inaugurate a common action. A conversation is ‘our’ action, something we are both involved in together. In this way, conversation reminds us of those things that “we can only value or enjoy together” and is, as Rowan Williams has said, “an acknowledgement that someone else’s welfare is actually constitutive of my own.”

Recognising the significant changes which have led to religious plurality in our society, the General Synod as long ago as 1981 endorsed the Four Principles of Inter Faith Dialogue agreed ecumenically by the British Council of Churches:

• Dialogue begins when people meet each other
• Dialogue depends upon mutual understanding and mutual trust
• Dialogue makes it possible to share in service to the community
• Dialogue becomes the medium of authentic witness

Though simple and obvious when set out like this, as are the ten ethical guidelines from the Christian Muslim Forum, they nevertheless are easily and frequently ignored when debate and dialogue is supposedly occurring. These are then guidelines and principles for the art of conversation that we urgently need to re-learn in dealing with differences within the Anglican Communion, and inter-faith dialogue can show us the way.

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The Low Anthem - This God Damn House.