Damned if he does, and damned if he doesn't

Being a short response on the latest travails of an archbishop.

It's the recurring problem of a leader, a hugely-intelligent and thoughtful leader, finding that actually all people want are soundbites and stereotypes.

Most of the population, and much of the press, it would seem, don't actually want to use their brains! Never mind the fact that the interview which precipitated all this comes on the back of a densely-worded and highly thoughtful 8000 word public lecture. Never mind the distinction between the principles of Sharia law and some of the rather heavy-handed punishments handed down by Islamic courts in some parts of the world.

Archbishop Rowan, and many Christians can't win: we try to engage with real issues with depth and sensitivity - and find that we're told we should stay out of them. Then in the next breath we're told to be more active in wider society and help find solutions, not problems.

As long as our answers are acceptable to the everyone else, that is. In which case they are not answers, simply mere affirmations.

There was someone else who found that as well: he was called Jesus.

A good start?

"...whenever you begin any good work, beg most earnestly of Him to perfect it..."

I'm very good at starting things, and pretty appalling at finishing them. I tend to sit fairly closely to the principle that most people are content with 75%, or even less, and therefore never claim perfection.

The passage which struck me this morning from the Rule of St Benedict is elementary. It is both simple and profound, and for someone like me, with a tendency to rush into things and forget the basics, is profoundly challenging.

To speak of beginning a good work also implies, to me, that we have an awareness of the nature of that work at the very outset. It is certainly true that we can have a very strong awareness of when something we are about to do is not good, selfish or even evil. Whether we can assess all the potentials of our works is, I think, less certain, as is a genuine grappling with starting a course of action which may be good, but about which we are unsure.

All the better then to engage in the second phrase, to beg of Him (God), "most earnestly to perfect it".

To commend good intentions to God seems pretty obvious, yet is still something I can easily fail to do. In the need to fulfil the regular commitments, the sermon or the meeting, the temptation remains to simply get on with it, and to trust that the God we serve in Jesus will bless it and bring it to fruition. And yet, that is a misapplication of faith, a presumption - and I do it all the time.

And neither is it enough to simply pray. There are times, true enough, when an "arrow prayer," a quick, immediate prayer, is the only possible or practical response. This is not really the case, however, in beginning a good work, if that is, we take work to be something of an extended nature.

I was preaching last night in the Ash Wednesday service, based upon Isaiah 58 and Matthew 16, that real prayer, like real fasting, is a time-consuming and costly business. And it's true. What better way than to seek to begin, and to hallow, to consecrate, a work of good intention. How much does the very action of the prayer transform the practice, I wonder?

And finally, notice what we are encouraged to seek of God's involvement in the task. Completion? The drawing of a line according to our standards of a job well done? No. The target is the conclusion of the work according to the divine standard, not of ending, nor adequacy, but of perfection.

Perfection is most definitely a state that can only truly be achieved by God, the action of the divine, not simply our own. Perfection, in his eyes, may not be the same as ours either - which is a slight digression and a topic for another time, perhaps.

The good work, rooted in prayer, seeking the divinely-willed conclusion, is to be our goal. Earnest prayer is in itself a sacrifice of time and effort, not too dissimilar to the foundations of a building, I would guess. It leaves time and space for dialogue with God, time for an awareness of our strengths and limitations.

And it's something that I know I don't do even half as often as I should. Maybe in the founding prayer too all the worries about the many tasks which need to be done will reveal those most important to God rather than to us. Or to me.

Word and Play

It's one thing to know that you've not blogged awhile, but another to do so.

However my lack of words has been more than matched by a torrent of poetry from my friend David. And so without further ado, another one of his.

Word and Play

If there is
the slightest chance
of getting some play
out of a word,
I will.

For play is exhilarating.
I’m ex-hill.
Over the top.
At any rate,
I love the freedom of the plain.

Plainly,
puns happen
when I’m creative,
coasting,
with the wind behind me.

It can be a bit of a blow to others
when I wind them up.
They’ve been known to say
how peaceful it used to be.

Whether or not the wind changes,
they must brace themselves
for a pair of puns
at a moment’s notice.

My word,
it is inherently clear
that I got this bug from my parents.
To keep generating like this,
and producing a battery of puns
takes training.

So, prepare for the worst.
A nice flow will continue.
You have my word for it.

(C) David Grieve 2008

And with that I must turn to an act of Lenten penance, in folding and stapling the service orders for Ash Wednesday - as if failing to create my own ash and being forced to ask for help (a thing I intensely dislike) were not enough!