Category Archives: mersea

Short thoughts 3 – "New Atheism"

Posted on by

UPDATE: this is starting on Saturday; if any Mersea people want to join in there are a few places left – just let me know.

This is just a plug – I’ve agreed to do a course, spread across two Saturdays next May, exploring the “New Atheism” – what it is, where it’s from, what’s wrong with it, how Christians should respond to it, etc etc.

It will run 10-4 on Saturdays 14th and 21st May, at West Mersea Church Hall.

Details:

PURPOSE / AIM of module:
To familiarise students with the main arguments and methods of the “New Atheists”, to understand where they stand in intellectual history, and to have renewed understanding of – and confidence in – the classical Christian intellectual tradition.

General – including COURSE CONTENT
Six main teaching sessions spread over the two Saturdays, plus time for small groups and plenary discussions. The six teaching sessions are expected to cover:
Introduction/Overview, with especial attention to Richard Dawkins’ ‘The God Delusion’
Philosophical roots 1: Hume and Logical Positivism
Philosophical roots 2: Locke and the ethics of religious belief
Theological roots: the Christian origins of atheism
Different types of theism: classical and personal
How should a Christian respond to an atheist?

TARGET GROUP – including prior experience needed etc.
No prior philosophical expertise will be assumed for this course, just an interest in the subject matter to be covered – all technical terms will be fully explained. It would be helpful if participants had read Dawkins’ ‘God Delusion’ or a similar book before coming on the course.

For a flavour of my approach to these questions, have a look at my ‘Reasonable Atheism’ series of posts, which are listed here.

Chauffeur or Mechanic?

Posted on by

I’ve been thinking about ministry, and what sorts of ministry are possible in different circumstances, and came up with this analogy:

Some parishes are like well-conditioned cars. The fundamentals are in place and working, and what is needed from an incumbent is to keep the parish moving in an established direction, making sure that the passengers are comfortable and looked after (‘feed my sheep’). Call this the ‘chauffeur’.

Other parishes are like cars that have broken down. They need someone to come in and examine the engine – possibly taking it apart and putting it back together again – in order that the parish can then get back to forward motion – which is, after all, what the car is for. Call this the ‘mechanic’.

If a chauffeur is appointed to a parish needing a mechanic, then the incumbent will be criticised for drift and inertia, for letting things slide.

If a mechanic is appointed to a parish needing a chauffeur, then the incumbent will be criticised for reckless meddling and needless controversy.

A bad chauffeur will keep the show on the road at the expense of necessary maintenance, storing up problems for the long run.

A bad mechanic will perpetually tear up the plant by its roots and prevent long-term growth in both numbers and knowledge of God.

Of course, both parishes and incumbents are mixtures, but I think the contrast can do helpful work.

For myself, I think I am temperamentally more of a mechanic than a chauffeur, although I can do both (and the church which seems to be most healthy at the moment is the one where I have hardly had to do any mechanical work at all). I think I’ve done some good mechanical work here – despite the occasional engine blow-up – and whilst there are definitely some mechanical issues remaining, my sense is that the chauffeur skills are going to be needed more in the future.

(Question – what is the engine in a church? and what are the other essential bits, like the transmission and the exhaust…)

Of course, the Church of England as a whole is – in my ever so humble opinion – a broken down car at the moment, however effective it seemed to be at that wedding the other day…

Do CofE parishes want – can they cope – with introvert incumbents?

Posted on by

Thinking out loud…

Interesting moment in my therapy this morning, when we got to talking about introversion (lest there be any doubt, “My name is Sam and I am an introvert” [grin]). Did a quick Google search when I got back and was reminded of this interesting article from The Atlantic.

Do you know someone who needs hours alone every day? Who loves quiet conversations about feelings or ideas, and can give a dynamite presentation to a big audience, but seems awkward in groups and maladroit at small talk? Who has to be dragged to parties and then needs the rest of the day to recuperate? […] Leave an extrovert alone for two minutes and he will reach for his cell phone. In contrast, after an hour or two of being socially “on,” we introverts need to turn off and recharge. My own formula is roughly two hours alone for every hour of socializing.

I was recently reminded of my first thinking about Killing George Herbert, and what parishes actually want. For one way of describing what is wanted – at least, what people tell me that they want, ie ‘this is what we would like you to do'(!) – is to say ‘the parish wants an extrovert’. Someone who is comfortable – no, someone who is enthused and inspired by the social whirl, who will happily be active in seeking conversations, in ‘being visible’ – and, therefore, someone who gains energy from such things. Which is, of course, a possible description of hell for the introvert.

My therapist commented that this was a particularly CofE difficulty. In the Roman Catholic and Orthodox churches it is much more straightforward to serve as an introvert, not least because the expectation is that a person will seek the priest, not that the priest will seek the people. Introverts can be brilliant when a person knocks at the door and seeks specific and particular help (presumably that’s why so many introverts are called to the ministry) but when the dynamic is the other way around (eg “visiting”) then it runs quite strongly against the grain. It’s also why – at least for me – I find liturgy so essential. It’s probably an exaggeration to say evangelical = extrovert, anglo-catholic = introvert, but there’s _something_ there!

I had thought that my deafness was a large part of why I find socialising so draining – which is probably one factor – but I have now come across half-deaf people who don’t worry about group gatherings half so much, so personality does have a lot to do with it.

One final thought – in chatting to some old friends from my curacy at the weekend (I was in London for a big do) – the comment was made that all a parish needs is to know that they are loved. I think that’s true – and certainly something to aspire to – but it does run both ways. There is something here about parishes becoming big enough (in every sense) to be able to accommodate the diversity of priests that pass through, cultivating a flexibility of expectation and valuing the good things about a priest, putting up with the bad. Truth be told, Mersea is pretty good at that… but I know of many colleagues where that hasn’t been true.

More anon.

Who or what is worship for?

Posted on by

This is by way of a quick commentary on a video that Banksy has posted (tying in with some conversations that we’ve been having). Here’s the vid:

I would very much want to endorse the second half of the vid, especially the link between pastoral care and the leading of worship (that’s why you can’t have lay presidency – doh!) and the fact that, if you pitch worship towards people who aren’t members, then the worship doesn’t have integrity.

However…

I think the first part of the vid is one-sided (not untrue, just not the whole picture). Who is worship for? That is, what is the centre of gravity? The centre of gravity must be God, otherwise it is not worship, it is entertainment, some form of self-stimulation. Worship must have (MUST) have an irredeemably other, prophetic and even judgemental quality about it. It is a fearful thing to come into the presence of the living God.

It is therefore perfectly legitimate for worship to be found strange, off-putting, weird or bizarre to begin with. If the worship is real, if the Spirit is present, then the worship won’t just be strange, it will be strangely attractive, and people will be enabled to enter into and share in the mystery. This may require that worship does not change with contemporary fads, it means resisting a collapse into worldliness, it means giving a full respect and weight to worship that has been found valid through time, what CS Lewis called ‘Deep Church’.

However… that being said, the speaker on the video does have a point. It is perfectly possible for worship to lose touch with the Spirit through being embedded too far in its own fundament(als). The word that I have found useful for striking the right balance between a worldly trendiness that lacks God-centred integrity, and a broken down ruin that has only memories of the divine glory, is this: enable. Right worship enables the congregation to come into the presence of God. There is no set way of achieving this – all sorts of ways can ‘work’ – it depends entirely on the gathered believers, which is why the second half of the video is spot on.

The question is: what will enable THIS community of believers, gathered together, to worship God in Spirit and in Truth? What will enable them to enter into the great mystery of faith, in a way which feeds their soul and enables them to access spiritual medicine? The answers change according to time and context…

See also:
Tearing Down the Curtain
The Role of Music in Worship

The original plan was…

Posted on by

Had to dig out the original ‘parish profile’ for the Mersea benefice – all sorts of fascinating stuff in it – but included was my original application to the clergy appointments adviser when I was looking for a job somewhere.

Question on form: “What is the meaning of your ministry and where do you think God is calling you in the future? In other words, ‘What are you realistically looking for?'”

My answer:
“I would say that the centre of my vocation is ‘the ministry of word and sacrament’ – hackneyed, but true nonetheless. I believe that I have particular gifts in the sphere of teaching and writing, structured by a strong academic training but rooted deeply in orthodox Anglican Christianity, seeking to express itself through following the teaching and example of the Christian mystics. My orientation is towards the church and cloister, not the academy.

“I seek for these gifts to bear fruit in a Eucharistic community: where I can talk the talk, walk the walk, and, by God’s grace, kneel the kneel also. My most fundamental motivations are pastoral, and I view Eucharistic ministry as the opposite side of that pastoral coin – they are one thing, viewed from different sides. I am competent at public liturgy and practical administration, and I would wish to develop my potential in these spheres. I am less good at ‘Youth Ministry’ – partly from my deafness, partly from temperament, partly from doubt as to its validity. I am also not the best at polishing practical details or at tying up loose ends and finishing jobs.

“I conclude that I need the following: a Eucharistic community, in which I can exercise my priestly ministry. A balance of life between different elements of public engagement, pastoral ministry and private prayer. The ability to develop as a contemplative and teacher of the faith. A chance to put down roots and cultivate ‘stabilitas’. The possibility of training as a spiritual director in due course. Such a combination might be found in various different guises and I have no determined sense about what shape it will take. My ideal would be a small parish of my own on the East coast. I am sure that God will make his intentions clear to me at the appropriate moment.”

Not sure I’d say much different today.

This ancient holy island

Posted on by

I’ve been thinking about an article I read in the local paper recently, which discussed the creation of ‘The Strood’ – which is the causeway that links Mersea Island with the island of Great Britain. I now discover that the article can be found on the Mersea Museum website here, and it references an academic article that can be found here (pdf).

Key points:

– the Strood was not built by the Romans, but by the Anglo-Saxons;
– it can be fairly firmly dated, to between 684 and 702 AD;
– the creation of the Strood would have been a major engineering project which “suggests the presence on the island of a sufficiently important feature to merit such a structure and also a substantial financial expenditure on the part of somebody or some organisation able to afford it”;
– Essex at this time was an independent Kingdom (and so it should be again!);
– the King of Essex at the relevant time was Saint Sebbi;
– we know that the Anglo-Saxons founded a Minster church, of Benedictine character (linked with Rouen if memory serves) on the Island, probably in the ‘early 8th century’;

all leading to the slightly speculative conclusion “What can be more likely than that the saintly King Sebbi took a personal interest in the construction of the minster church at Mersea?”

A Minster church, of Benedictine character, founded by one who was “much addicted to religious actions, almsgiving, and frequent prayer”.

I find it remarkable how a place can have a particular spirit – and, unknowing of all this, it’s uncanny how it ties in to what I’ve been pursuing in the benefice over the last couple of years, especially my sense that the Rule of St Benedict provides all that the parish needs.

So. Society of Saint Sebbi anyone? (Feast day is August 29 – clashes with Greenbelt!!)

Embracing St Benedict (as opposed to Killing George Herbert)

Posted on by

This is from his Rule, on ‘The Character of the Abbot’:

“It is seemly for the abbot to be ever doing some good for his brethren rather than to be presiding over them. He must, therefore, be learned in the law of God, that he may know whence to bring forth things new and old; he must be chaste, sober, and merciful, ever preferring mercy to justice, that he himself may obtain mercy. Let him hate sin and love the brethren. And even in his corrections, let him act with prudence, and not go too far, lest while he seek too eagerly to scrape off the rust, the vessel be broken. Let him keep his own frailty ever before his eyes, and remember that the bruised reed must not be broken. And by this we do not mean that he should suffer vices to grow up; but that prudently and with charity he should cut them off, in the way he shall see best for each, as we have already said; and let him study rather to be loved than feared. Let him not be violent nor over anxious, not exacting nor obstinate, not jealous nor prone to suspicion, or else he will never be at rest. In all his commands, whether spiritual or temporal, let him be prudent and considerate. In the works which he imposes let him be discreet and moderate, bearing in mind the discretion of holy Jacob, when he said: ‘If I cause my flocks to be overdriven, they will all perish in one day’. Taking, then, such testimonies as are borne by these and the like words to discretion, the mother of virtues, let him so temper all things, that the strong may have something to strive after, and the weak nothing at which to take alarm.”

That’s an ideal I could aim at.