Journal: Can clergy be too passionate?

Yesterday I walked into a church building to be met by the comment, "Oh, here's Mr Passionate!"

I struggled to think of any time I might have shown the speaker passion, had I somehow entered into a parallel universe perhaps where I'd got drunk and lost control, or stumbled and fallen like the first Adam? Thankfully the 'passionate' label affixed to my lapel was an indicator of me and Jesus and the 'way you're always going on about Him!'.

Now to be honest, I didn't think I was going on about Him enough, so this came as a bit of a shock. To be blunt, what the blazes does a church member expect from a cleric and if they knew me at all they'd realise that this pop of theirs, for it wasn't applause, was the very opposite of what they'd appeared to have intended. It wasn't a barb but a blessing. It turned out that I'd shared Jesus with one of the speaker's friends (yeah, I'm surprised she has any too ;-) ) and they'd reported it back to them with something along the line of, "You never talk to me about Jesus!"

Of course I'm passionate about Jesus, He's the focus for everything I do and is (unless distracted by toys), and even when I am I share them with Him (sometimes)) and making Him known and introducing my big, important friend is a pride and joy. So anyway, that which someone meant for nasty, God turned to joy.

Looked at Justin's book today - it's OK and it's going to be a bestseller (obviously as so many diocesan Lent groups across the country are buying it ) - I ended up with stuff from out of left-field and so sat quietly (think I spoke but the once) and pottered around the web collecting and creating thoughts whilst listening to the thoughts of those around me. To be honest, although I've heard it before, God being the person digging up the pearl and us (I mean ME) being the pearl and Jesus being the everything that God is willing to dispose of to get ME - it's a bit up there with some of the takes on the wedding banquet and Jesus being the bloke tossed out the window, innit? Better than hearing another sermon on the prodigal's Mum and the woman's take on it all - and how I wish she'd remain as silent as the biblical account has her - innit?

It's what we choose to not to see that takes away value. We see the things that matter to us and the things that matter to us are the things that we see - which is why so many, in and out of Church, don't see JEsus and aren't 'passionate' I guess!

One of the struggles with early banknotes came in the fact that people assigned less worth to a piece of paper than to a lump of gold. Gold shines and is attractive and has substance whereas a piece of paper. . . Well it's just a piece of paper innit? Talking to a debt coach who is also a psychologist they said the problem with credit is that it is all virtual - taking a sack of cash to a shop to feed their possession addications would stop many from ever spending (well that's their view).

Substance and substantial things confer something of strength and power - what you don't see, unless it carries some implicit and understood threat, is potentially nothing to be valued or frightened of.

Seeing with Jesus' eyes helps us to see the things the world cannot see - seeing with the world's eyes causes us to value what is obvious and to dispossess and ignore that, and those, we choose to ignore - truly, a man sees what he wants to see and disregards the rest?

Lord, give me Your vision - Your Passion - a sense of the tangible in a world of imagination.

Epiphany - A great revelation

I remember a bloke in the mid-sixties (Colin Chapman) who worked really hard at making English something interesting and appealing to his (North London) pupils reading a poem with the word 'epiphany' in it. This was a word we never heard before and when he asked what we thought - we merely shrugged - and then . . . He made us all jump by turning round and telling it that it was one of those moments when something suddenly becomes clear (not our general experience I would guess).

Today the day the Church celebrates 'The Epiphany' - the revelation of Jesus to the non-believing, scientific, thinking world (as opposed to the smelly Jewish shepherd world) - in the shape of the Magi (AKA 'three kings or wise men') is most certainly 'revelation' but it took its time to come about. The shortest estimate comes in at about three months and the longest, five years, and regardless - it's not sudden is it? What's more interesting is that our tableaux replete with shepherds, angels, MJ&J and the freakings (as one of the children pronounced it during one of the carol services) weren't all there together in the stable - today's visitors arrive late and, considering the Holy Innocents (the slaughter of boys under two years of age) - I would have to assume it was no more than a couple of years after Jesus' birth.

So Christmas is done - and in a nutshell:

Donkey ride on a dusty road to a town South of Jerusalem (no security barriers then)
In a land that was occupied by strangers
In a town that was full - no room at the inn
Giving birth in a stable - laid on the stuff the cattle ate
Visited by shepherds (I ask you, shepherds, smelly outcasts!)
And then?
Time passes
More time passes
And then into town comes the Circus:
Flash geezers with expensive clobber on camels arrive.
Looking for a King - no ordinary King, but the 'King of all kings'
Which doesn't please the bloke who is king at the time
(and he's killed his own kids to keep the job as his)
They've brought Him gifts
Not nappies, baby bottles and stuff
Proper gifts
Gold - that's the stuff of kings
Frankincense - the stuff of priests
Myrrh - the smell of death
In three gifts volumes are spoken: Priest, King and Sacrifice
From Gentiles - people who are distant from God
Not local lads but foreigners (and we know about foreigners don't we ;-)  )
Making clear something that the locals might not have understood
Jesus is the Christ (God's anointed one) for ALL
Jew and gentile
Near and far
All colours and complexions
Suddenly, yet slowly, it all becomes clear.

What colour are yours? Liturgical lessons 1

Hello people.

Are you sitting comfortably?

Long, long ago, when I was only just learning about colours and seasons in the church (having come from a cords, brown shoes, check shirt and horn-rimmed glasses church background) I went away on a weekend course teaching us about liturgy.

Friday came and went and every step was a new piece of information about the seasons, morning prayer, evening prayer and, can you believe it, night prayer too! We were invited to join one of the many groups doing prayer at the end of the first day. This was wall-to-wall revelation time for me and it was here that I learned that complign was actually complin (even though it is spelled 'compline' of course) and how it spoke of 'completeness' and the the of the day.

Saturday came and after morning prayer (the night has passed and the day lies open before us . .) we were treated definitions, descriptions and means of handling Psalms and greater and lesser endings, collects and BCP vs modern variants of them. The Gloria was explained (along with why some looked at their shoes during the first bit of it) and the means by which multiple Psalms could be said without returning to it each and every time. We discussed antiphonal readings (which being paid to sing Gregorian stuff was something, probably the only thing in fact, I actually knew about!) and the purpose of the Psalm in worship (NO, it cannot be used to replace one of the other set readings).

Lunch came and a few of us decided, having seen the scoff, to absent ourselves and visit the local hostelry for pie and a pint. Returning just a tad late there were three of us who, having signed up for the same 'break out' session, crept stealthily into the back of the lecture theatre.

The woman lecturing having finished her introduction then moved on to the session proper and it went a little like this:

"one of the tings that I really like to do is to have my clothes match the colours of the liturgical season we are in. For instance I have discovered that H&M do a really nice range of suspender belts, bras and knickers in gold for Christmas and Easter Sunday . . . ."

The three of us looked at each other and wondered what on earth was going on. I wondered whether our absence had been noted and what we were experiencing was a set-up, but 'No', she continued to explain how certain clothing outlets sold purple items of 'intimate apparel' (what she described beautifully) for Lent and Advent,

Green, for ordinary time was limited to but a few shops whilst most outlets stocked red (for Pentecost and certain saint's days).

White was easy to find anywhere and so was merely passed by with a cursory note about easter, Christmas and others festivals when you didn't want to wear your gold stuff!

I was surprised to hear that whilst many shops stocked black, this was only worn by her on All Saints and Good Friday!

Seems that the biggest problem was getting good coloured tights that were sheer for if one was not careful you'd end up with Norah Batty tights (which of course would never do)!

The lecturer went on to explain that she didn't usually disclose the underwear thing but as this was a ladies only group she felt that it was safe to do so. She then proceeded to tell the group how we were going to do an exercise with the church's calendar and what colours we thought (or perhaps knew) would be right for them and as they started to pass the papers back, the three of us crept out before we were rumbled.

A little later, during afternoon tea, we found a couple of other people who had also been signed up for our break out group and discovered that due to numbers we had been moved into the, much smaller, chapel.

Which is where we went for the remainder of the session.

Mind you, I've never forgotten the colours of the liturgical calendar.

And the women lecturer?

Her identity is safe lest her face matches her intimate apparel come Pentecost :-)

Beggars the question though   .. . . . . . "What colour are yours?

:-)

Happy Friday