Wisdom and Night driving

From Benedictus to Magnificat — Today’s the Day everything changes gear. O Sapientia, 17 December, is named after the first of the great sequence of antiphons before the Magnificat, marking our final approach run to Christmas.
In the old money —

O Sapientia, quæ ex ore altissimi prodiisti,
attingens a fine usque ad finem fortiter,
suaviterque disponens omnia:
veni ad docendum nos viam prudentiæ.

I love what this says — its depth and insight into how things really happen:

O wisdom that proceeds from the mouth of the most high, reaching powerfully from end to end, sweetly (elegantly, smoothly, gently) ordering everything: Come teach us the way of good judgment.

Much of today was a diocesan staff meeting. We’ve always been reasonably well-mannered and efficient, but I notice we’re working together more freely and joyfully. I put it down to a greater commitment to working at our relationships, and more time going beyond the shopping list of business items. In any enterprise there are things that need doing, and one strategy is to fixate on them until entirely functional and task driven. Do that and people try their best, but there’s always an x factor missing — harmony and understanding that comes from real working friendship, sincere ownership with open eyes.

You can only achieve corporate goals fully at a pace that matches your knowledge of each other. Like night driving, it’s only safe within your headlights. You may well get away with going faster, but output will be less than the group’s best, and everyone will have niggling doubts about it that they don’t want to own up to for fear of seeming to slow things down. It’s one mechanism that leads people to pretend things are better then they actually are. The same old niggling doubts surface and resurface ages after you thought the group decision had been taken. Better to trust God’s sweet ordering of everything, and invest more time in the people and their relationships — drive within the group’s headlights, not faster, and you actually arrive at a better place, possibly even sooner.

Barack Obama inauguration Ahoy!

Barack Obama’s inauguration preparations are well in hand, as the free world awaits some fresh thinking. Meanwhile Despair.com celebrates its 500,000th order. Even Budweiser guys are gagging for a bit of hope:

Advent: Alignment, Preaching, Praxis

“This is a Jesus Society, and you repent not by feeling bad, but by thinking different.” Rudy Wiebe. Advent hope? NOT cheap comfort, massaging consciences to feel better about things to which they ought to feel more sensitized. It’s about coming fully alive, aware of the dynamics around our lives and activities. Here to support our struggle for alignment, for all of us who preach, is a wee something by way of Wes Roberts from a liturgy of the Abbotsford Community (h/t Graham Peacock)

Preaching What Your Practice

If I preached what I practiced
the church would be full,
with eager listeners to the latest means
of getting away with as easy a lifestyle as possible
and still call it Christian

If I preached what I practiced
the faith would have followers
clambering at its door, eager to sign up
to wishy-washy justice and part-time belief
if I preached what I practiced.

They would be keen for sermons about
a penny for the poor, and a pound for the pension
keen to listen to homilies that spoke
of living in the reflected glory
of someone else working for peace
They would happily believe
in a faith that changes a light bulb for the sake of creation
rather than sacrifice to shape a whole new way of living
If I preached what I practiced

If I preached what I practiced
church would be popular again
with a doctrine of excuses
and a creed of compromise
a half-way house on almost anything
and a God who is washed out
watered down
and used to support anything you want

we would never need to sign up
to a faith where we find ourselves feeding the poor
by feeding ourselves less
we would just have to proclaim it without doing anything about it
if I preached what I practiced.

we would never have to make a sacrifice for justice
for we would always find an excuse
that would allow us to buy things for the taste
paying lip-service to buying things for justice

or we would never have to go green
we could get away with lime
for we could live according to our personal means and desires
speaking passionately for the planet
living passionately for ourselves
without a thought for the legacy and footprint it leaves
if I preached what I practiced

So hear my confession
that my living is not as full of God
as the words that I utter
May it be that the words
take form
and leave footprints
of someone who finally
practices what they preach

It all puts me in mind of some words of Abu Bekr, father in law of the Prophet, and first caliph of Islam:

“I thank you Lord, for knowing me better than I know myself, and for letting me know myself better than others know me. Make me, I pray, better than they suppose, and forgive me for what they do not know.”

One Thing leads to another

What makes everything happen? Us? Chance? God? Advent is a time to speculate and play with the linkages between thngs. In the great scheme of things, all the dominos fall towards eventual glory, says the faith, but in roundabout and counter-intuitive ways.

Corporate reading of Scripture, in season and out of season, unlocks awareness of hidden process. By not ditching it, even when it doesn’t seem relevant, we hold open the possibility of meaning breaking through from it.

I had been thinking how irrelevant the strange psychedelic poetry of Revelation was, and glad we only really encounter it seriously at this time of year, when I was handed a Bible to read from at a lunchtime Eucharist this week, the day after Woolworth’s bankruptcy, only to find it was Revelation 18:

Alas, alas, thou great Babylon, that mighty city, for in one hour is thy judgment come! The merchants of the earth shall weep and mourn over their city; for in an instant no man buyeth their corrupt merchandise any more. Thy merchandise was gold and silver, precious stones, pearls, fine linen, purple silk, and scarlet and fine wood, all manner of vessels of ivory, and of the most precious wood, and thy buildings of brass, and iron and marble, and thy slaves which were the souls of men. Yet now the fruits which thy soul hast lusted after and for which thou hast laboured so long are wholly departed from thee, and all things that were dainty and goodly are departed, and thou shalt know them no more... In one hour is so great riches come to nought...

I wonder what the evaporation of all the mighty city’s wealth in an hour meant in the first century — certainly a phenomenon you would have to be a wacky psychedelic apocalyptic poet to imagine. The sober fact is that today, like global destruction, we have the technology. When apocalyptic suddenly leaps off the page in this way, it’s a powerful reminder that the framework in which we take such pride, and from which we derive such security, is, in fact paper thin. Everything is connected, fragile, vulnerable and dependent on God — to use a slightly eggheaded word, contingent:

Advent Hope: Could it happen to you?

Advent 1: Though-provoking Obama Ad — “It Could happen to you” by Alexandra Barreto, Rider Strong ad Shiloh Strong of Los Angeles Ca, won the Funniest Ad category of MoveOn.org’s Obama in 30 seconds Contest. Could it happen to you? think about it...

and for anyone still in search of fresh online Advent stimulation, try the (US) Advent Conspiracy:

Advent: doors in the Mind

Startling story of someone crushed to death on sale day at a Wal-Mart on Long Island. This is not the first time something like this has happened at such a place. With Christmas coming on, are there any alternatives out there to mindless consumerism?

In the US buynothingchristmas attemps to introduce some sense of sanity and proportion. Over here the Church of England has its own highly recommended website, whywearewaiting helps put the waiting back into wanting, with a brilliant, thoughtful and practical reflection from Rowan:

One or two people this week from the broader community have come across the site, and said how much they thnk it could help them think through an alternative run-up to Christmas to the usual clapped out desperate frantic activity.

As for me, I’m greatly loking forward to Advent with Sephen Cottrell’s Advent book, Do Nothing Christmas is coming. It’s a simple, good humoured practical countdown resource.
That doesn’t mean short on ideas. At one point he quotes Bertrand Russell:

One of the symptoms of an approaching nervous breakdown is the belief that one’s work is terribly important.

What is provided is a daily opportunity to stand back from all that, and think. The text isn’t not preachy or specific in any way to particularly religious people. Each day starts with a daily snatch of ordinary conversation that captures one aspect of the season, with ideas and comment from Stephen, then some questions to help reflection. I don’t suppose doing it will take more than a five minutes a day.

This book is not, however, a comprehensive Bible Study resource, so I’ve loaded the iPhone with an application that supplemets the usual daily office with Bible themes.

(h/t Ottawa Raging Grans for the pic)

iSpy Advent coming up...

The publishing trade seems to have spotted a new market developing in Advent resources. Maggi Dawn got in first last year with Beginnings and Endings, a thoughtful daily Bible based resource that takes you right up to Twelfth Night. This year I want to try m’colleague and friend Bishop Stephen Cottrell’s down-to-earth Do Nothing: Christmas is Coming. Watch this space.

If that’s not enough to get you there, perhaps you need an Advent iPhone application. I’m trying Advent08 from iHabitus.com. This is a Scripturally based image enhanced supplementary office you run on your iPhone, that may well do nicely in the evening, complete with Celtic artwork that counts down from Advent Sunday, tying everything together. It can be used with personal or group meditation around an Advent wreath. For Liturgical anoraks, the scheme follows colour coded classic Advent themes up to and including the O Antiphons, and lands you up on Christmas Eve all dressed up and ready to go. All this for only 59p from the iTunes store!
...

On the twelfth day of Christmas

A wonderful confirmation service on a glorious sunny morning at Hambleden for Epiphany — and the end of Maggi Dawn’s Beginnings and Endings (and what happens in between) which I've reading almost daily since 1 December. It’s been a very engaging way to stay focussed at a time of year I usually rather lose the script. This book gives a short scripturally based reflection for every day from the beginning of Advent to twelfth night. I have missed two or three days, but it’s easy to catch-up, and I've very much valued the overview, and some of the particular ideas. There’s a very strong biblical base, including the big picture alongside some analysis of particular parts of the story and context. This book puts you back in the place people were in before they did Christmas in an over-familiar way. Tracking through the tale from the very beginning stage by stage has been very enriching.

As Matthew tells the story it’s not a neatly wrapped-up ending, but a scene of urgent and slightly panicky journey making. Both the magi and the holy family are warned not to go back the way they came, and they depart from Bethlehem in different directions.... the end of the nativity story, then, marks the beginning of two new journeys into the unknown — two journeys in which the plans are changed at the last minute and departure is suddenly made more urgent.
The idea that we cannot go back the way we have come is an important spiritual metaphor: having encountered the Christ-child, we can never just go back. Even if we return to the same life we find that it has somehow changed...
For those who like the idea that the gospel gives us certainty — clear and applicable truths that we can solidly depend upon — this ending of the birth narratives is an uncomfortable disruption. The only certainty here is the promise of uncertainty. But it is an uncertainty that is full of hope, for it is also the promise of new beginnings.

My only qualification to this enthusiastic endorsement is to point out that you can’t exactly read it in the way it’s designed to be used for another 11 months — but Advent and Christmas will, almost certainly, be back next year...

Advent thoughts from abroad

Great joy on Sunday, to confirm 40 new disciples of all ages in Wycombe and Stewkley. No full script, sorry, but this is what I was trying to say:
In India I met people who are really poor in world terms, and there's no arguing with the figures, but they treated us, freely, with lavish generosity and love. In the poorest homes I met bubbly smiling children, and parents strong in self-respect and family loyalty. Back home I meet people who have everything, but are so damn miserable, cynical, broken in their relationships, and lacking in confidence. So what's world development really about — economics, or relationships, or both? What benefit to grow material wealth in the majority world, if in the process people lose their roots, and community, and capacity to love? What point is there for anyone to have all the things we have, without the human and relational capacity to enjoy them?

They are driving a great four lane highway over 550km from the hi-tech hub of Bangalore to the hi-tech hub of Hyderabad. We drove for hours up an old road, broken and full of potholes, amidst all the paraphernalia of one of the greatest engineering enterprises on earth. Advent is a good time of year to do this! We could see the levels being raised, and whole hills being moved to make a straight highway up through the Deccan plain. Right now cities of a million people, like Kurnool, are barely dots on the map. That is going to change dramatically.
The hallmark of authentic Christianity isn't fine worship, feeling good, big buildings or sound doctrine. It's love that turns the world upside down. That's what they said of the Early Church. Our mission as disciples isn't to get bogged down in peripherals, but to build some kind of highway through every wasteland, economic or human. Somehow we have to find ways to connect material, personal and spiritual, so that people can flourish, and increasingly enjoy what Jesus came to bring, life to the full. We can change the world, like the anti slavers 200 years ago did. It’s what we’re for, and the only way we can find real happiness and a life worth living.

We didn't sing it on Sunday, but rattling for 16 hours up and down the H7 construction project, I did sometimes think of the great Advent hymn we used to sing at school — Visionary stuff in 1870, and closer now than when we first believed.

...he comes to reign with boundless sway,
and makes your wastes his great highway.

Lands of the East, awake,
soon shall your sons be free;
the sleep of ages break,
and rise to liberty.
On your far hills, long cold and gray,
has dawned the everlasting day.

Shout, while ye journey home;
songs be in every mouth;
lo, from the North we come,
from East, and West, and South.
city of God, the bond are free,
we come to live and reign in thee!

as long as a piece of string

Looking ahead to Advent, which I’m going through this year with Maggi Dawn’s reflections Beginnings and Endings, the cover and blurb drew me into thinking about time; time (chronos — how long), and time (kairos — opportunity). And what about the context of both: beyond time what? — eternity? Infinity? world without end?

We can use a bit of Maths here. How long is the coastline of Britain? There’s an AA Road Atlas answer, which is good enough for most purposes, but there’s also a completely different Mathematical answer, which you could express by breaking down every line and mapping it as a set of points in a complex plane to form a fractal. Here’s a Mandelbrot set (not the coast of Britain). If the final frame were the width of your screen, the whole fractal would be larger than the known universe — it’s an interesting image to pray with... world without end?

Ever-rolling Stream...

Just Time, today, to tear the wrappings off an interesting looking new book, Endings and Beginnings, by Maggi Dawn, priest, poet, musician and theologian. That kind of Time is “Kairos.” But it isn't the only kind of time.

There's another word also for ‘Time’ in NT Greek. It’s Chronos — the stuff by which you set your watch. The second word in my first sentence, Kairos is “time in its human context,” opportunity. Chronos runs smooth and regular, like a vibrating quartz crystal. Kairos is far more subtle and complex. Can you say how long, strictly speaking, was your first Kiss? Labour? Driving Test? wait for a scan result? You can give a figure, without beginning to explain what it really meant or why.

Advent is the time when everything comes full circle — The old year dies, and the whole story begins again. As we follow it through, we are put back in the position of people who had never heard of Christ, so that we can live the whole story from scratch, and capture something of its freshness and vitality, as well as opening up new possibilities we didn't see last time round. Thus we journey onward towards the city of infinite day, one step, one cycle at a time, refreshed and renewed on our way.

Maggi's book takes us through some Bible passages that may help unlock this process. She tracks the story through Christmas itself and right up to twelfth Night; giving a focus for eleven days that often disappear from my life into a kind of Blue Haze. Not this year. I don't want to give this book a flat review as though it were an academic treatise, because that's not the way it was designed to be used. What I will try and do is use it myself through Advent, reporting back occasionally how I'm getting on. I'm looking forward to a good poke around the roots of our faith, and a chance to turn some attention to some of the last things I usually want to think about, all anchored into some classical texts of exile, restoration and hope.

The biblical accounts of beginnings and endings tell us that the Christian faith is a journey that starts somewhere and goes somewhere. It's a journey that develops through time, rather than simply going round and round in an endlessly repeating cycle. the season of Advent, too, reminds us that we come from somewhere and we are going somewhere, and thinking about beginnings and endings helps us to rediscover meaning and purpose as we live in these times that are ‘in between’.