I was travelling on the train on the way up to Aberdeen about 7.40 in the morning and passed through Burntisland station. I hadn't really noticed how dank and depressing it is before (was on the slow train that stops at all the stations before changing at Kirkcaldy) maybe it just suffers from being next to Aberdour station with all the flowers and riot of colour and prettiness; it's just paint peeling brick and it looks dark and gloomy. And there were all these commuters waiting on the Edinburgh train huddled in this damp space looking tired and burdened, maybe anticipating another day at work.
The train slowly drew out of the station and beyond the end of the station overhang the brick enclosure stops replaced by a small wall and behind this an open vista that looks up and out across the expanse of the Firth of Forth, across to the skyline of Edinburgh and the Pentland Hills beyond. It was a beautiful morning, the sky was clear, the estuary sparkling, the scene stunning and, of the whole crowd of commuters standing on the platform that morning even beyond the station brickwall, one person was standing with their back to the track and gazing out across the amazing view. It was the kind of scene that lifts the heart and makes us thankful for all that we notice about us.
In all the haste and the pressures of life and consumption, sometimes I feel out of place, as if there is something that I see that others don't or choose not to. I'm odd - the one person in the crowd looking the other way, lifting my eyes to the hills, feeling the grace of God and being grateful.
Saturday, 16 April 2011
Friday, 22 October 2010
Re-phrasing Mother Teresa
It's been a funny couple of months.
I finished making the Spiritual Exercises at the end of August and it's been hard making the transition into 'life as usual'. I honestly think that last year has been the most significant of my Christian journey (not sure what other word to use but becoming more dissatisfied with the 'journey' word/metaphor) so far and my sense of God and myself has been challenged and deepened in a most profound way. So coming out of that has been an adjustment as I've struggled to find a rhythm in my prayer life which isn't an hour a day for 6 days of the week. This coupled with an absolutely manic pace at work over the last few months (which looks likely to continue until at least the middle of December), a busy church schedule and a couple of months break from my Spiritual Director who was on holiday, has left praying contemplatively a challenge to say the least. It's just difficult to get my head to slow down and my thoughts to be less frenetic.
I'm still trying to make space to pray a couple of times a week but sometimes my head is, frankly, 'mince' as we say in Scotland!
I've been on holiday for a week and have still kept the slightly frantic pace - stuff I had to do - and it's taken me till today to sit in my prayer space and actually feel that I had stilled enough to hear; to receive consciously the presence of God.
I've been thinking for a few weeks about a little phrase I read which just says "learn to pause ... or nothing worthwhile will catch up to you" It's not a spiritual (actually it probably is..) phrase, it's from a stamp I use when making some little art pieces. But this morning as I started my prayer I read this quote from Mother Teresa
"We need to find God and God cannot be found in noise and restlessness. See how nature - trees and flowers and grass - grow in silence. See the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence. The more we we receive in silent prayer - the more we can give in our active life."
Now far be it from me to assert my spiritual insight over Mother Teresa (think I'm well out of my depth there), but as I reflected on this I realised that it made sense to me to re-phrase this slightly;
"We need to allow God to find us and we can't be found by God in noise and restlessness"
This sense that God doesn't struggle in noise and restlessness; I do. I'm the one who needs to learn to pause so that I can become more attentive to God's voice. That is what Sabbath is. At some point - and let's face it it's probably not going to be a Sunday - we need to stop. We need to make ourselves available to be refreshed, to be immersed in the presence and peace that is only found when we stop long enough for God to encounter us.
Isaiah 30.15 says;
"In returning and rest you are saved. In keeping quiet and in confidence is your might."
Psalm 131 says;
"..Instead I have quieted and calmed myself ... like a weaned child is my soul within me"
I finished making the Spiritual Exercises at the end of August and it's been hard making the transition into 'life as usual'. I honestly think that last year has been the most significant of my Christian journey (not sure what other word to use but becoming more dissatisfied with the 'journey' word/metaphor) so far and my sense of God and myself has been challenged and deepened in a most profound way. So coming out of that has been an adjustment as I've struggled to find a rhythm in my prayer life which isn't an hour a day for 6 days of the week. This coupled with an absolutely manic pace at work over the last few months (which looks likely to continue until at least the middle of December), a busy church schedule and a couple of months break from my Spiritual Director who was on holiday, has left praying contemplatively a challenge to say the least. It's just difficult to get my head to slow down and my thoughts to be less frenetic.
I'm still trying to make space to pray a couple of times a week but sometimes my head is, frankly, 'mince' as we say in Scotland!
I've been on holiday for a week and have still kept the slightly frantic pace - stuff I had to do - and it's taken me till today to sit in my prayer space and actually feel that I had stilled enough to hear; to receive consciously the presence of God.
I've been thinking for a few weeks about a little phrase I read which just says "learn to pause ... or nothing worthwhile will catch up to you" It's not a spiritual (actually it probably is..) phrase, it's from a stamp I use when making some little art pieces. But this morning as I started my prayer I read this quote from Mother Teresa
"We need to find God and God cannot be found in noise and restlessness. See how nature - trees and flowers and grass - grow in silence. See the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence. The more we we receive in silent prayer - the more we can give in our active life."
Now far be it from me to assert my spiritual insight over Mother Teresa (think I'm well out of my depth there), but as I reflected on this I realised that it made sense to me to re-phrase this slightly;
"We need to allow God to find us and we can't be found by God in noise and restlessness"
This sense that God doesn't struggle in noise and restlessness; I do. I'm the one who needs to learn to pause so that I can become more attentive to God's voice. That is what Sabbath is. At some point - and let's face it it's probably not going to be a Sunday - we need to stop. We need to make ourselves available to be refreshed, to be immersed in the presence and peace that is only found when we stop long enough for God to encounter us.
Isaiah 30.15 says;
"In returning and rest you are saved. In keeping quiet and in confidence is your might."
Psalm 131 says;
"..Instead I have quieted and calmed myself ... like a weaned child is my soul within me"
Saturday, 11 September 2010
Great Quote
This is a quote of a quote but I though it was brilliant. It is written by Scott McKnight about NT Wright's book "Virtue Reborn" or "After you Believe" as it has been titled in the States.
"It deserves to be said: one reason so many people read Tom Wright today is because he can write prose that is flat-out captivating. Like this: in discussing love, Wright says the "English word 'love' is trying to do so many different jobs at the same time that someone really ought to sit down with it and teach it how to delegate." But those early Christians, who found the Greek word agape, "seem to have settled quickly on this word as the best available one, and they then gave it the fresh privilege of carrying a new depth of meaning in which some aspects of its previous career were highlighted and others were set aside." Vintage Wright."
Looks like a good read.
"It deserves to be said: one reason so many people read Tom Wright today is because he can write prose that is flat-out captivating. Like this: in discussing love, Wright says the "English word 'love' is trying to do so many different jobs at the same time that someone really ought to sit down with it and teach it how to delegate." But those early Christians, who found the Greek word agape, "seem to have settled quickly on this word as the best available one, and they then gave it the fresh privilege of carrying a new depth of meaning in which some aspects of its previous career were highlighted and others were set aside." Vintage Wright."
Looks like a good read.
Thursday, 12 August 2010
Resurrection
One year on, I'm almost through making the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises. The final thing will be to reflect on the whole experience; what has moved me? where were the areas of consolation and desolation? what is staying with me? But for the next couple of weeks I am finishing 4th week. Before moving to "4th week" I attempted to blog about some of my "3rd week" reflections. Now almost through 4th week, I've found it interesting and very challenging praying with the resurrection.
I don't know about you but I have found my Christian life, for much of the time, centred on the cross. I'm not saying there is anything particularly bad about that, but over the last few years I have found it really helpful to focus on a more complete picture of Christ, extending out from the cross to encompass the incarnation and over the last year to pray with all aspects of Jesus; his pre-existence as part of the Godhead; as the "Word" through whom all things came into being; his incarnation; his early years; his public ministry; his passion and death. But praying in this resurrection space has been a challenge of a different order.
What does it mean to live beyond the cross, beyond the resurrection, beyond the ascension?
I'll come back to this thought shortly.
I don't know about you but I have found my Christian life, for much of the time, centred on the cross. I'm not saying there is anything particularly bad about that, but over the last few years I have found it really helpful to focus on a more complete picture of Christ, extending out from the cross to encompass the incarnation and over the last year to pray with all aspects of Jesus; his pre-existence as part of the Godhead; as the "Word" through whom all things came into being; his incarnation; his early years; his public ministry; his passion and death. But praying in this resurrection space has been a challenge of a different order.
What does it mean to live beyond the cross, beyond the resurrection, beyond the ascension?
I'll come back to this thought shortly.
Saturday, 19 June 2010
Reflection #8
Jesus is dead
What to feel? Exhaustion, numbness, unreality, unbelief, this is a bad dream I can't wake up from. What did it all mean? What was it all for in the end? Maybe. Maybe if he hadn't been so outspoken, so confrontational. Maybe there was a different way to get his message across? If only. How could he leave us like that. What will we face now? Hope. Did he not say..What did he mean? Hope? Crashing reality. I really saw him die. He really is dead. The soldiers proved it beyond a shadow of doubt.
The women huddled together as the spear pierced him. They know he is dead. They huddle together in their grief. His body is taken down - they can't help it - they go and touch him, his mother touching his cheek as each of them makes themselves unclean. They follow the men who have wrapped the body in cloth. They see the new tomb nearby, never used. They see him laid inside.
They weep and make the journey back to Bethany. Only a short while ago eating a meal together. Reminded that Mary really did anoint him for burial. Waking next day with a sudden realisation. It's all true - it's not a dream. Jesus is dead. Passing the Sabbath together.
Then a great big white screen and peace. Gazing up into the vastness of heaven and a cloth with a body wrapped in it glowing like a transfiguration.
What to feel? Exhaustion, numbness, unreality, unbelief, this is a bad dream I can't wake up from. What did it all mean? What was it all for in the end? Maybe. Maybe if he hadn't been so outspoken, so confrontational. Maybe there was a different way to get his message across? If only. How could he leave us like that. What will we face now? Hope. Did he not say..What did he mean? Hope? Crashing reality. I really saw him die. He really is dead. The soldiers proved it beyond a shadow of doubt.
The women huddled together as the spear pierced him. They know he is dead. They huddle together in their grief. His body is taken down - they can't help it - they go and touch him, his mother touching his cheek as each of them makes themselves unclean. They follow the men who have wrapped the body in cloth. They see the new tomb nearby, never used. They see him laid inside.
They weep and make the journey back to Bethany. Only a short while ago eating a meal together. Reminded that Mary really did anoint him for burial. Waking next day with a sudden realisation. It's all true - it's not a dream. Jesus is dead. Passing the Sabbath together.
Then a great big white screen and peace. Gazing up into the vastness of heaven and a cloth with a body wrapped in it glowing like a transfiguration.
Reflection #7
My God, My God why have you abandoned me?
He is in agony. Pain radiating through his body. Very difficult to focus on anything but this pain. Locked in the moment, hyper-aware. You can't go anywhere. You can't escape the pain. Caught up in it. All encompassing. Jesus holds onto God by his fingertips. Separated by a gulf of pain from his disciples and friends. He is alone and becomes increasingly aware of this. No-one can go through this with him. His whole focus is on the agony, alone in his suffering. He tries to hold onto God. Tries to fight the thoughts closing in on him. Tries to stay focused outwards. Darkness falls. Three hours struggling. His head drooping forward. Turmoil inside.
He loves his enemies. His righteousness exceeds that of the Scribes and Pharisees. He is rich and became poor. He offers his other cheek to be slapped. He forgives those who sin against him. He serves one master. He goes a second mile. He is pure in heart, only willing one thing - to do the will of the Father. He faces down evil with incredible costly love.
He hangs there in the face of indifference. He experiences everything but the one thing which is at the extreme of human experience. To be abandoned by God.
At 3 o' clock Jesus cries out in a loud voice - Why? Why? Why Abandoned?
God "in extremis". God hangs there in the face of evil, hypocrisy, indifference and everything wrong in the whole of creation. He also hangs there in the face of losing God. God abandoned by God.
It's a place beyond our comprehension. The moment when Jesus comes to the end of all he is. He is beyond. Off the map.
I don't know how the Trinity worked while Jesus was human, but in this place, Jesus feels himself utterly alone. A being who has lived in community all of his eternal existence. Abandoned. The community of the Godhead totally disrupted, Father and Spirit.
Did he need to go that extreme? It feels to me like he did. He needed to experience this ultimate place beyond God. And I am struck again by his love even in the face of complete mystery and unknowing.
Jesus shouted out again and released his spirit.
He is in agony. Pain radiating through his body. Very difficult to focus on anything but this pain. Locked in the moment, hyper-aware. You can't go anywhere. You can't escape the pain. Caught up in it. All encompassing. Jesus holds onto God by his fingertips. Separated by a gulf of pain from his disciples and friends. He is alone and becomes increasingly aware of this. No-one can go through this with him. His whole focus is on the agony, alone in his suffering. He tries to hold onto God. Tries to fight the thoughts closing in on him. Tries to stay focused outwards. Darkness falls. Three hours struggling. His head drooping forward. Turmoil inside.
He loves his enemies. His righteousness exceeds that of the Scribes and Pharisees. He is rich and became poor. He offers his other cheek to be slapped. He forgives those who sin against him. He serves one master. He goes a second mile. He is pure in heart, only willing one thing - to do the will of the Father. He faces down evil with incredible costly love.
He hangs there in the face of indifference. He experiences everything but the one thing which is at the extreme of human experience. To be abandoned by God.
At 3 o' clock Jesus cries out in a loud voice - Why? Why? Why Abandoned?
God "in extremis". God hangs there in the face of evil, hypocrisy, indifference and everything wrong in the whole of creation. He also hangs there in the face of losing God. God abandoned by God.
It's a place beyond our comprehension. The moment when Jesus comes to the end of all he is. He is beyond. Off the map.
I don't know how the Trinity worked while Jesus was human, but in this place, Jesus feels himself utterly alone. A being who has lived in community all of his eternal existence. Abandoned. The community of the Godhead totally disrupted, Father and Spirit.
Did he need to go that extreme? It feels to me like he did. He needed to experience this ultimate place beyond God. And I am struck again by his love even in the face of complete mystery and unknowing.
Jesus shouted out again and released his spirit.
Reflection #6
They sat around
That's the verse that really got me.
"They gambled for his clothes by throwing dice, then they sat around and kept guard as he hung there."
It's hard to know what to say to that apart from to weep.
"They sat around...as he hung there"
While God died painfully and horribly. While God was stretching and reaching. While God is suffering and dying, slowly.
What does God do in the face of such indifference? Unconcern? They are not looking up; they are focused on themselves; attending to their everyday stuff. Business as usual. What does God do in the face of such indifference? He hangs there.
It's not the out and out hostility that gets me. Atheists don't bother me. They are at least talking about God even if they are not thinking. But those who sit around...
That's the verse that really got me.
"They gambled for his clothes by throwing dice, then they sat around and kept guard as he hung there."
It's hard to know what to say to that apart from to weep.
"They sat around...as he hung there"
While God died painfully and horribly. While God was stretching and reaching. While God is suffering and dying, slowly.
What does God do in the face of such indifference? Unconcern? They are not looking up; they are focused on themselves; attending to their everyday stuff. Business as usual. What does God do in the face of such indifference? He hangs there.
It's not the out and out hostility that gets me. Atheists don't bother me. They are at least talking about God even if they are not thinking. But those who sit around...
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