Who is a Saint?

Last November whilst on a course I had an interesting discussion with a Congregational minister regarding Saints. He was particularly interested in what I saw in Francis. During the conversation he commented that, for him, Cromwell was his hero and that if he was to believe in Saints then Cromwell would be on the list. I thought of this conversation today as some in the Anglican Communion remember Charles, King and Martyr.

Now I cannot think of any other person in the Anglican Calendar who causes so much controversy. According to The Society of Charles King and Martyr (SCKM) he is honoured as a martyr "because he died for the Church. He was offered his life if he would abandon episcopacy but he refused for this would have taken the Church of England away from being part of 'the one Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church’ and made Her into a sect."

True, Charles was offered his life if he was prepared to accepts certain terms and conditions one of which was to allow the Church of England to become Congregational, but the truth is more complicated than that. Anyway, to continue holding to that theory seems to me to say that Congregationalist, and all who do not follow the Episcopal pattern, are sects and not part of the true Church.

My feeling about Charles was that at best he was guilty of naivety and at worst, stupidity. As a King he failed to grasp the changing times in which he lived. He held on to a medieval view of kingship, forgetting that even medieval kings had been deposed.

And there we have it, it seems you have to be deposed in order to become famous: Charles, of Course; Henry VI, with moves still being made to bring him to sainthood and Richard III, who even today has a loyal band of followers on both sides of the Atlantic.

But back to Charles, should he be a saint? The Church of England seems ambivalent. Charles was included in the Book of Common Prayer 1662 but removed in 1859, now he is back. Personally, I'm not so ambivalent as the man lead us into a Civil War in which thousands died. I believe his 'martyrdom' was less to do about the church and more to do with his ego.

Just as I do not wish to uphold Charles, neither do I wish to hold up Cromwell, many of the traits I find in Charles I also find in his opponent. There is no doubt that both men wished to serve God as they saw fit and for that reason I trust they will have their reward, which should make for interesting conversations in heaven!

So who should we commemorate? Well, if I do not like the inclusion of Charles in the Anglican Calender I do like the inclusion of what I call 'the little people'. Those we don't necessarily call Saints, but those who got on with whatever God called them to do quietly and without fuss; and those who made life better for ordinary people without any thought of reward. To me these are the real Saints.



Dave

Learning From The Green Man

On a recent walk in the park Dave stumbled upon this excellently crafted sculpture. There was no plaque to say what it was an who carved it but he immediately thought of the Green Man.

The image of the Green Man is a bit of a mystery, for it is found all over the world. The usual form the image takes is a face surrounded by leaves. Some people believe that the Green Man represents new birth in the spring. Recently, Wicans have taken him on board as the Horned God, but that is likely to be a modern construct. Because of this interpretation a few eyebrows are raised amongst our Christian friends when they see a face surrounded by ivy peering out from the side of one of our apple trees. We would not be surprised if some did not think of us as being closet pagans. Our answer is that to us the Green Man is a type of Christ. He is the one though whom God made the world (Collosians 1:16). He is the one who sustains it by his power (Hebrews 1:3) Looking on the Green Man reminds us that whatever humans do to nature and the environmet, ultimately Christ is in control. When we see the Green Man we see the Christ of nature.

Of course, Green Man images adorn our medieval churches. On our pilgrimage around old churches Dave is usually off on a Green Man hunt. Some are high up in stone, some low down on misericordes, some inside and some outside. Vary rarely is he disappointed.

The theory is that early on the Church in the British Isles realised that rather than attacking pagan practice it should seek ways of integrating it into its own teaching and worship whilst at the same time being true to its own teaching. This integration came in the form of appropriating sacred places and imagery giving the early evangelist a starting point for their mission.

It may be argued that the Church today finds itself in a similar position. The need, therefore, is to identify things in modern society that can prove useful in getting the message of Gospel across to all those who seldom see the inside of a church. That will require a lot of soul searching and a lot of openness on the part of Christians, just as it did with our Christian forebears. There has to be a willingness to change. Can we do it? Well it has been done before. We need to learn the lesson of the Green Man.


See: Mike Harding, The Mystery of the Green Man

Celtic Deserts

That was the title of a course which I attended last week at St. Deiniol's Library, Hawarden, North Wales. The course was lead by David Keller, a former Steward of the Episcopal House of Prayer at St. John's Abbey Minnesota and Emily Winter, a Julian Scholar. The course was designed to reflect on the shared wisdom of the Desert Fathers and Mothers and the Celtic Saints, examining the implications for our personal living, for society in general and the Church in the 21st Century. It was, on the surface, a strange mix of academic study, contemplative prayer, and pilgrimage to Celtic sites around North Wales.

St. Deiniol's Library was constructed as a memorial to William Gladstone and is of late Victorian Splendour, far removed from the lives of both the Desert Fathers and the Celtic Saints. It seemed to me that many attending the course were clergy who possessed 'Oxford' English accents. I confess that I soon began to wonder how God could ever work in this environment.

Well, God proved me wrong. I have been on many courses with many groups but I have yet to find one which seemed to gel as this one as we shared together not only the teaching, but the mystical experience we each felt as we visited the 'thin' places on our days out. I rarely cry, but I cried a lot towards the end when I heard others describing the exact same experiences that I had witnessed. Most importantly I began to see Christ in others for whom in the natural way of things I would not have an affinity.

I have deliberately left off writing this blog for a few days because I wanted to make sure that the 'emotion' of the week away had time to subside. However, I am still left with the feeling of a great seed change in my thinking. The people I meet everyday no longer seem to be just another person, but someone in whom God is revealed and is speaking. What I fully feel is hard to put into words at this stage but I am sure God has his plans!

St Seiriol's Well
One of the sites we visited which was of particular blessing

Back to Roman Times

The New Mersey Gateway Bridge is to go ahead. However, when it opens there will be a hefty toll. Not only that, but the old bridge (which is now free) will be made toll.

All this means that there is no free crossing of the Mersey till one gets to Warrington.

Two thousand years ago, when Rome ruled, the only free crossing was also at Warrington!

Thank you Mr. Brown and New Labour for giving us a glimpse of the past!

I am sure we have all had the experience of visiting somewhere, only to find that there seems to be something special, something sacred about the place. It has happened to me on a number of occasions. I have visited grand cathedrals which despite their beauty have left me cold. Yet I have also entered small, insignificant, churches where I have felt that I have been standing in the presence of God.

A few years ago, Chris Peck, who was director of Lay Training in the Diocese of Liverpool (UK), set out on a journey around Britain to seek out sacred places. In his mind was a series of questions, for example: did some places have a natural sacredness of their own which was recognised by our forbears, or were places made sacred, by acts of worship over the centuries? Chris came to the conclusion that both seem to be true. Some places, like the island of Iona, seem to have a holiness of their own.

I visited Iona some nine years ago, staying at the Abbey. It was a difficult time for me, made more difficult by the fact that I did not get on at all well with the rest of the guest. The services in Iona Abbey where not to my liking and the whole thing could have been a disaster. However, releasing myself from the guests and the abbey I spent quite some time sitting outside on a rock, said to be the place where St. Columba had his cell. Here I communed with God, and it was as if heaven and earth were the same place. It was a sacred place.

As a family we have just returned from the Isle of Mann. Towards the end of the holiday we visited Peel Castle. One the two occasions I had visited the island before I had wanted to visit the site but had been thwarted; finally I got my wish.

The castle is built on St. Patrick’s Isle, an ancient site that has been used for many things throughout the years. At one time it was a Celtic Monastery and one of the original chapels still stands. Despite there being the ruins of far grander churches on the site, it was in this small space that I felt the veil between heaven and earth lifting. It was if I was at one with all my brothers and sisters who had worshipped there in the past. – Truly, for me it was a sacred space.

Creating our own Sacred Space

Sacred space is good; it is a place where we meet with God. Visiting such places is also good but it is also possible to create our own. We must remember God is omnipresent and can meet us anywhere Why not think about setting aside some place where you can meet with God on a regular basis. It need not be large; it can be the corner of a room. Place in it something like a picture or a candle on which you can focus your attention as a window into heaven. As you use your space so it becomes sanctified. It becomes the place where you and God can meet. A place that draws you into God, a place where your strength is renewed.

Dave

Happy Birthday Liverpool

With all the hype over Capital of Culture, it would be easy to forget that this year Liverpool celebrates its 800^th birthday. Actually, it is older than that, but in 1207 King John granted the town a charter giving its citizens certain rights. John, of course, wanted something in return. The old pool and castle ensured that this would be a safe harbour for his ships whilst preparing for an invasion of Ireland. Whatever the history, this year will be a year of celebration with lots going on. The council even want street parties to rival those of the Coronation in 1953. (This is where I feel old as I remember both the Coronation and the celebrations for Liverpool’s 750^th birthday in 1957!)

Of course, we want this to be a success and we wish Liverpool well, just as we wish everyone a Happy New Year. However, I am aware for some people the New Year may not prove happy. Perhaps they are going through a worrying time, or are fearful of something that is due to happen in the weeks and months ahead. Maybe this is the first New Year without the company of a loved one and they are wondering how they are going to cope during the year ahead.

None of us can know for certain what the year ahead holds. This time last year Gill and I had no idea that during 2006 we would be attending the funerals of Gill’s Aunt, Uncle and both her parents. At New Year we hope for a good twelve months ahead, and it may well be, but it may turn out an ‘annus horibilis’, to quote Her Majesty.

So then, if life can be so variable is their anything or anyone that can be relied on to be constant? For the believer the answer to that question has to be the love of God as found in Jesus. The Bible says of him: ‘Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, today and for ever.’ (Hebrews 13:8). This means the Christ who loved us so much that he humbled himself to be born in a stable in Bethlehem that first Christmas: the Christ who loved us so much that he gave himself up to be crucified for our sins at Easter, still loves us and cares for us 2000 years later.

For me, 2007 is another Birthday. Forty years ago this summer, I made a decision to follow that same Jesus. Since then, life has thrown at me many things, some good, some bad, some that have made me very happy, and some that have brought me to the gates of despair, but in all of these things Jesus and his love has been constant. I know many people at St. David’s who could say the same; lots of whom have followed Jesus for much longer than me.

Some of you will be making New Year resolutions. Usually we choose resolutions that we hope will make our life just that bit better. Why not make the decision to get to know Jesus? From experience I know it will be the best decision you can make – better than all the other resolutions put together. Then, whatever the year ahead brings, you will have the joy of knowing the constancy of Christ’s love.

Wishing you every blessing for the year ahead

Dave

Walsingham

On Saturday, we finally made it to Walsingham after promising ourselves a visit for more years than we care to remember. In many ways it proved interesting but at the same time disappointing. It was interesting because of what we saw and learned, but disappointing because neither of us felt anything particularly special about the place Some would say that such places are not about feeling, but for me it is important. Iona, Lindisfarne and a whole host less well known sites around the UK and abroad have proved to be places where I have felt particularly near to the Divine but I could not say that about Walsingham, even though I know it is special to the thousands of pilgrims that visit each year.

A few years ago, Chris Peck, who was director of Lay Training here in Liverpool, set out on a journey around Britain to seek out sacred places. In his mind was a series of questions, for example: did some places have a natural sacredness of their own, which was recognized by our forbears, or where places made sacred, by acts of worship over the centuries? Chris came to the conclusion that both seem to be true. Some places, like the island of Iona, seem to have a holiness of their own whilst I think places like Walsingham have more to do with the centuries of prayer and devotion by the pilgrims.

At the start I mentioned Iona. Gill and I visited the island some eight years ago, staying at the Abbey. It was a difficult time for us both, made more difficult by the fact that I did not get on at all well with the rest of the guests. The services in Iona Abbey where not to my liking and the whole thing could have been a disaster. However, releasing myself from the guests and the abbey I spent quite some time sitting outside on a rock, said to be the place where St. Columba had his cell. Here I communed with God, and it was as if heaven and earth were the same place. It was a sacred place. I would gladly return to Iona simply for that quality.

Although St. Francis set up many hermitages, he was always drawn to St. Mary of the Angels, down in the valley from Assisi. It was to this place he came when he knew death was near. Again, I have had the privilege of visiting the church and, despite the crowds of pilgrims and tourists, I could sense something of the sacredness of the place.

So what it is about sacred places, do we have to 'feel' something, or do they posses properties that can be sensed by some people and not by others? Would some people who find Walsingham special not find anything for them at Iona?

That's what we like about God - the way he meets different people, with different needs, in different places and in different ways. Humans like to standardize while God likes to diversify. We constantly need to take care that we don't try to force people into seeing God through our eyes and our own experience. Perhaps one of the hardest lessons for Gill and I to learn is that we don't have all the truth and that other people's experiences are just as valid as our own.