From Moomin Valley to Lourdes

“But one needs a change sometimes. We take everything too much for granted, including each other.”

 – Moominmamma (Moominpappa At Sea)

A very dear friend sent me a pin of Moominmamma to wear over the last few weeks, a reminder of our friendship and that I was never alone. Moominmamma is the matriarch of the Moomin family and at the moment this little pin holds so much symbolism for me.

First of all there is the quote above. It has always been one of my favorites but given the recent course of events, I have realised just how much I had taken everything for granted including my family and friends. It has only been with the imminent challenges and struggles that I have become aware of just how precious they all are. It has been a revelation as to how valuable the life and memories that we have together are. Moominmamma, always values each and every part of her life. She pays attention to each and every detail making sure everyone has just what they need.  The necessity for this has been all to blatantly spelled out for me over the last few weeks,both in the way I have come to treat others but in the way they have been there for us.

So Moominmamma sits on my collar everyday. She watches over me like my friend has, reminding me of how I should be as a wife, a mother and a friend.But this gentle loving creature sitting there reminds me of something more.

When my friend gave me the pin she said she had had a reticence about not giving me something Christian to watch over me. The parallels are there though. This quiet Mother figure sitting there watching over me, is not that dissimilar to another Mother who also carries out this duty.  

Over the last few days I have sought the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary. I have prayed fervently to her and sprinkled Holy Water from her Shrine in Lourdes. Other visitors too, have sought her intercession and asked her to wrap her motherly cloak of love around us all.  Her presence surrounds us, her motherly love has held us close and her intercessions have held us strong. She is our heavenly mother, she knows our pain, worry and loss, as we watch those close to us suffer. She can hold those feelings and offer them up to her Son. Through many of my darkest and my happiest hours I have sought the intercession of Our Lady. Her Motherly love has calmed my storms, eased my fears, guided me towards her son when I thought I was lost. Much like Moominmamma watches over her family and guests. Moominmamma is my friendly earthly guardian and she sits there reminding me of the overwhelming love that my family and friends have given and continue to give. But each time I glance at my pin I am also reminded of that great Motherly love of Our Lady and then on past that to the Divine love of her Son. We may feel alone, lost at sea when we are faced with our world turning upside down. We may feel that life may never be the same again, and maybe it won't, but at least we will have learned to value those around us a little more. Also, we 

will have revealed the immense power of Our Lady's love and intercession. Maybe you would like to join me in praying the Hail Mary below the picture, so that you to may begin to discover her maternal presence too.

Hail Mary, full of grace,
the Lord is with you.
Blessed are you among women,
and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus.
Holy Mary, Mother of God,
pray for us sinners,
now and at the hour of our death.
Amen.

On the washing of Feet (literally and metaphorically)

"When he had washed their feet and put on his clothes again he went back to the table.'Do you understand' he said 'what I have done to you?You call me Master and Lord, and rightly, so I,am. If I, then, the Lord and Master , have washed your feet, you should wash each other's feet. I have given you an example so that you may copy what I have done to you'"

 Maundy Thursday seems a whole eternity away, so the days since have been consumed by waking, school run and hospital and then the same in reverse. It is genuinely beginning to feel like there was never a life before this.  However last Maundy Thursday my husband preached a very personal sermon on how he was going to have to let others wash his feet for a while. While it was meant somewhat metaphorically at the time, it has proven to be more literally true than either us had really anticipated.  I had sat in my seat feeling quite smug, thinking it will do him so good to let others help him. To let people do things for a while. I was maybe a tad too smug, it should have been a warning sign to me.

 Over these last few days Christ has been very much been in our presence both in the Sacraments and in the ministry of our friends. It is easy to let Christ in to our hearts, to minister to others. It is incredibly hard to accept that your shoulders do not have to bear the cross entirely alone. It is harder still, to have the humility to let others in and share the load. I had thought that I had long ago learned to let go, to give my heart, my soul, my everything to Christ. It has turned out, I may have been a little presumptuous in this area. A little resistant to allowing Christ to carry and share the burden. Someone said on Twitter this morning that, when we offer prayers, we offer them to God because they are too painful for us to carry. It has taken me the time to offer those prayers for myself so completely and honestly, to give that pain to God, to allow him to wash my feet. 

Christ's sacrifice, was one of unwavering unconditional love. It would appear that learning to accept that means you are constantly having to learn to accept yourself and allow Christ to love the very person you are. He can see my suffering and he offers his love but I have to accept it. I have to chose him, I have the freewill to walk away, to become complacent, to refuse the help. My shoulders it appears are broad, but they can not carry the world. My heart may carry a world of pain, but it will break. My mind can hold a lot, but it has to give way. Today once more I accept Christ into my life, with a bit more humility and with the acceptance that I need the help and the love and the presence of Christ.

In the presence of the Lord

"Suffering is nothing by itself. But suffering shared with the Passion of Christ is a wonderful gift, the most beautiful gift, a token of love"

Mother Theresa

Anyone who has ever doubted the trans formative powers of  the sacraments, ought to go to hospital with a Priest. Though I have always had a deeply held conviction about the Real Presence and the trans formative powers of the Sacraments, the experience of receiving them amidst your own suffering and trials is something else. For those of you who do not know, my husband has recently undergone surgery for a spinal tumour. The series of events has been a roller coaster of emotions, yet always at just the right moment just when it is needed and without request up pops a Priest with the Sacrament. The previous moments of stress and agitations are for a second becalmed and the Lord is almost tangible in the air. I have had moments in Mass when I have experienced God's amazing grace and presence but never so much as I have this last week. The difference in not only myself but my husband is stark and overwhelming. It is such an amazing grace and force of peace in a time when you feel your heart might just break. The vulnerability that has come from watching my loved one suffer, has been almost unbearable. The ability to accept help, is not something I come to easily. I am not the one who falls apart, I am the one who copes. This week any vestige of such pride filled behaviour has gone. Without the Sacraments and the prayers of others I am quite sure I would be a complete wreck by now. The Lord's presence changes us, and through us changes the world, of that I am more certain than I have ever  been before.

It has been a long time since I wrote a poem, however today I felt moved to do so. The poem tells much more than I could here of my journey these last few days.

Presence

Lord I have walked my life with you.

Sometimes glad and sometimes sad.

Many times I turned away, but I returned.

Every step I took seems easy now.

Cause now I walk through mud.

Dragging, sticking and holding fast.

Still, I feel you here.

Lord I walk this path with you.

Tortured, pained and helpless.

Above I see your cross, your suffering,

The hope in your return.

Each day the nails drive in,

Digging deeper, my strength has waned

Still, I see you here.

Lord I am stumbling with you.

My heart it, cannot bear,

The times I must climb up again,

Only that I should fall once more.

Heavy and burdensome, I struggle.

Still, you carry me there.

Lord I am hanging here,

Fatigued, beaten and broken.

Many times, I fear your absence,

But I trust that you are here.

For as your mortal life expired,

So your divine presence returned.

Still, I turn to you.

Lord I am in your empty tomb.

Searching, frantic and lost.

Your absence here, is not real,

As your presence radiates all around.

Holding, carrying and lifting me.

Every time I lose you,

Your love touches my heart.

Still, you are here.

Your body lifted high before me here.

Offered, received and consumed.

It’s reception sustains me,

Though my body, heart and mind breaks.

Your presence here, hope comfort and strength.

Your peace guides me.

Still, you take my hand.

Not in my lifetime

" Arise, arise good Christian men,

Your glorious standard rise again,

The Cross where with he signed you;

The King himself shall led you on,

Shall watch you till the strife be done.

Then near his throne shall find you."

In the last few years there has been so much of seemingly impossible historic importance that has happened. Events that have only ever happened once in a lifetime or as in the case the photo above the simply inconceivable happened. My generation has witnessed 9/11, Brexit, Grenfell, ISIS, historic Solar and Lunar eclipses, historically late and early Easters, the extinction of many species of animals and anomalous weather. It is easy to convince yourself the world is on a path to destruction. For me far more personally I feel very much like the altar above, I feel my world is crumbling, burning and falling around me. The start of this year has been barrage after barrage of things I am so ill equipped to deal with, not ready to contemplate and certainly not willing to deal with. I am standing in the middle of a fire, that I had convinced myself would never happen in my life. Serious illness was something that just happened to others and not to us.

Every generation convinces itself it will be uneventful. Of course by default history is happening, being written whether we acknowledge it or not. So too, the Church is evolving with each new generation. Therefore, we must also live our lives, they can not be put on pause until the chaos ceases. In reality we all experience the unexpected, we all bear witness to historic and national events that we never thought possible and the earth has stood at the brink of destruction more than once. Yet here we still are in the burning smoldering ashes of society, turning towards that cross, that salvation that hangs over us all. Our hope.

If someone had said I would sit transfixed as I watched Notre Dame de Paris burn, I would have laughed. If someone had told me my husband would have a tumour and require serious surgery, I would have said no chance. If someone said I would have watched a plane fly into towers, people burn to death in a modern apartment block, I would not have believed them. The list goes on and on. So much evil, so much death, so much illness. Where does it stop? The answer is it doesn't, it has always happened. People have been slaughtered both by nature and humanity throughout history. It was not until I reached adulthood and the blinkers of idyllic childhood fell off, that I realised this.Nor was it until after this revelation that I came to terms with the idea that if we did not suffer we would not know joy. If we did not see destruction we would not want to fight for salvation. If there was no death there would be no Resurrection.

Standing in that abyss looking at the world fall apart, watching people, buildings, societies and indeed our own Church dwindle, is no easy mission. Observing the falling number of Christians, watching buildings burn it is so easy to feel lost, helpless and hopeless. It is enough to make anyone doubt, anyone question was is the point. It takes a huge leap of faith to get past the "My God, my God why have you foresaken me" part. You are left to trust the seemingly impossible, to believe that the temple can be rebuilt in three days. I draw you back to the photo above. This Holy Week more than ever with this image being broadcast around the world, there is a physical portrait of hope in destruction. The building is collapsing around the Altar and Cross. They are poking out from burning embers, yet the light from the fire above connects the two, places of sacrifice required for Resurrection. His presence could not be more clear, symbolism for rebirth, rebuilding and regrowth stark. Resurgam! 

Now I draw you to the verse above, now is the time to arise and our Christian standard bear. The message could not be clearer. The Cross with which he signed each and every one of us, shall lead us on and watch with us until this new strife is done. He will lead us through each and every event until we near his throne. Though the world may seem broken we are marked as the ones to lead it forward, we can be that beacon of hope healing the fractures. All it takes is humility, hope, prayer and a big dollop of Faith. So easy to say, harder to do. But faith, leads to hope and hope to Salvation. To bring us hope Christ had to die had to live through the abyss and trust in his Father. So too, must we. 

Experiencing the bare necessities

The altar is stripped bare, there is emptiness where there was once beauty. In our last Church we had a lovely triptych behind the Altar this was shut during Lent. (One of the most memorable parts of  Easter at our curacy was my children's very literal jaw dropping reaction each Easter Vigil as it was opened) . Some have questioned the need for such beauty in Anglo-Catholic worship in the first place. I am aware at first glance, it may seem overstated, pointless and irrelevant. However, the beauty has a purpose, it leads you somewhere, points you somewhere in the sacrifice the Mass enacts.

If you go back in history, the sheer beauty and majesty of Churches were for those who had nothing an example of heaven on earth. Making the transition through the Church doors was to step into the touching point of heaven and earth, a glimpse of the awesomeness of the Kingdom.

Now when we see glory and excess everywhere we look, maybe this touch of the fantastic seems irrelevant. It is not. It is important that our worship should still bring to us the beauty of the miraculous, the hint of the mysterious and a chance to glimpse the divine.

Traditional worship is multi sensory and if children are shown it from an early age it captivates and holds their attention. You have the music, beautiful choral music. Harmony can bring the choirs of heaven into our lives.You have the candles bringing Christ's light into our hearts (used to great effect at Christmas, Candle mass and Easter). You have the incense to ward off evil and show our prayers rising heavenward. You have the vestments, that are beautiful but provide anonymity. The Priest is stripped of himself and his tastes and dressed in something that points us towards God. If you celebrate Eastwards this culminates the picture as during the consecration the host is held up and all of us Priest included are drawn to look towards Christ present and Christ coming. 

When the majesty is stripped, it focuses your mind for the period of Lent on the emptiness of the desert. Reminds you of the temptation to prove the existence of the Father, so easily obtainable in the cupboards. However the only way to show his existence is to hold fast from temptation like Christ, in time all will be revealed. It's beauty all the greater for the denial and the wait.

Following Christ's footsteps is a discipline. It is not an exercise in doing what makes us comfortable or gives us pleasure. It is a duty to focus ourselves on Christ's example, not to give into the many temptations that knock on our door. That our time with God should be focused on him and not what seems most affable or accessible. It is not to dilute or make palatable that which we should obey. Children and young people today do not want wish washy half truths, they want knowledge and certainty. They want to see that Christianity has relevance that can be experienced in their lives, not the flashy and emptiness that a smoothie bar entails. With all our examples of fresh expression Church attendance is still falling. Is it not time to contemplate bringing the old back, in some ways this is now a new fresh expression. We introduced serving to our children and it has been popular, as has the training and pizza days that come with it! Is it maybe time we considered not patronizing our children and young people and allowing them to live and see the beauty of worship. Show that they can be welcomed into the family from the beginning. Held as part of our community and shown through the liturgy and worship the awesome kingdom of God at the point where divine touches earth at every altar. That they can chose to turn towards Christ and carry him out in their hearts and minds to live each and every day.

From Moorland to Gangland

The other day someone started a discussion on Twitter about things you don't learn at Theological College that you have to deal with in ministry. One of the partners sessions at college that I have been eternally grateful for was a morning when married clergy came and talked about their experiences. Little tricks like how to protect time for family, to always have spare food in the fridge, lines to give when the Vicar is in but can not be disturbed. These little practical nuggets have served me well as a Vicar's wife. However there are things that you never expect and you are never prepared for. The mundane normal things like cleaning up after services, the walk down the road to return coats, the phone calls in the middle of the night and the sheep in the porch at Church.  However when you leave the comfort of the Yorkshire Moorland to Inner City Gangland, the mundane and practical are thrown out the window. Sure the extra food in the fridge and pantry is still beneficial, in fact more necessary than before. In reality the Vicar is and has to be prepared to provide food at anytime, pay electricity bills and buy random toiletries, nappies etc. Even with the Foodbank next to Church the level of desperation and poverty is that many people need things there and then.  These tasks are still in the realms of practicality and you could foresee their occurrence.

What I could not have predicted (or at least I had not really thought about)  was "Mummy is it safe to go to school this morning?", "Mummy you can't go and talk to that person you would be putting us both in danger". These I could not have predicted anymore than I could have predicted my son having to phone to check his Father was ok, because there had been a shooting near Church and his Father was taking too long to come home. I admit I phoned too. I could not have predicted the sheer number of times the Church property would be broken into. The nights sat up waiting as worried for your husbands safety, as much as you are for the parishioner he is with. Engaging with these events are all right and proper. It is incarnational, it is missional and it is what Catholic mission is best at. However you are not prepared for it, no one even mentions it. The process of training is all very safe. You go from the comfortable bubble world of college, where your placements are all in Churches with good practice, to a curacy in a safe Church with healthy growth or numbers. The real Church of England on the streets is so far from this experience it is almost laughable.

Not only are colleges increasingly being encouraged to decrease the theological education we give our clergy, leaving them ill equipped to educate and lead the laity, but we do not give them the practical skills for practical ministry. The skills required to change perception where people are reluctant to reform, afraid of the reality of belief and afraid to commit to genuine doctrine. I think because the Church is afraid of itself. If we trained clergy to have confidence in who we were, what we believed, then maybe the laity would be a bit more confident. If clergy can not be confident, the Church can not even begin to engage with a community so broken and so desperate for strength, help, certainty and leadership. I know our inner city parish is an in extremis  example, we are the polar opposite of that safe training environment. But society as a whole is floundering, so lost in cacophony of self definition and mindfulness that it is tying itself in knots. My generation and younger are the start of a new wave craving certainty, order, definition and guidance. We can see the world freedom has created, it is confused and lost. As a teenager it was the quiet order of sacramental worship that lured me in. The knowledge and development gained from going every week, the time getting to know God. It was having clergy that could answer my questions, debate points from a safe a certain point of view. This provided me with the grounding I have, it has held fast and my faith has only grown. When a society is owned by chaos, the quiet certain presence of the clergy who walk through it make a difference. Their presence at the site of a shooting, their presence in schools, their presence on the streets. Ever present and ever willing to engage, answer and educate. We may not change a community over night, the answers to the many problems here will never be that simple. But they need more than just more police, more money and better policy. They need a whole approach, they need love, they need value and they need guidance. Maybe college's could spend a little more time preparing their clergy for the Incarnational side of their ministry. Being Christ among the people is  vital and is to be combined with the theological education. Neither should be over looked, corners should not be cut, training time should not be shortened. If we are genuinely serious about bringing more people to Christ, if we are genuinely wanting to grow the faithful, then we have to be faithful disciples not just one day but seven days. To do this we need to equip our clergy to do this rather than run smoothie bars, which are nothing but shallow imitations of the truth that can be gained through the sacraments. Clergy should be trained to be Sacramental and Incarnational examples in all they do or say. They should at least be made aware of some of the more practical encounters that come with the Incarnational side. I would not swap where we are for the world,we make a difference. However sometimes I question whether our children were or could have ever been prepared for what they see on a daily basis. However I rest easy knowing that they see their Father and their Vicar encountering, embracing and loving the people around them. I hope against hope that the sacrificial life example will rub off on them and that they too will see the value of sharing Christ's love not just one day a week but seven days a week.

As the darkness comes

The clocks have gone back, the weather has turned, All Soul's is just around the corner and we are turning our eyes towards a time of reflection and waiting. Part of me loves the build up at this time of year,. The multitude of smells from the making of new soaps, baking and chutney making. The endless prints of Christmas cards littered round the house. The gradual introduction of requeim music and then advent music. Then as the time comes eventually the joyous celebration of the Nativity. It is full of hustle, bustle and business. Yet I always find myself pausing now and then. Occasionally the tears will come as a memory comes tearing in. It is meant to be a cosy family time but it is also a time that is often tinged by remembering what is lost. A reflection on the blessings we have, the blessings we had and the blessings we did not notice in time.

I want to be happy and hopeful all the time. I want to make the autumn and winter evenings, as joyful as it was at times for me. I want to protect my children from the pain, the damage and hurt that the world can bring. I desire this more than anything as the dark sets it. I fill the house with candles, light, warm smells, snuggly blankets and hot drinks. I want to comfort them, from what haunts me. But still I pause and the tears come. I can not make life all happy because it is not.

It is true that as we move past the pain often held in All Soul's, we examine how we can prepare for the joyous gift that is coming. However even that gift is tinged with the pain of what is to come to pass. We can not know the awesome brilliance of joy, unless we can acknowledge it's counterpart. As I pause and let the swells of past pain pass, I feel closest to God. I know he is there, he has always been there. No matter what I have been through, he has always been there. He has held me up, my faith is everything. It is not something I do, not something I am watching, it is without a shadow of a doubt the shaping presence of who I am. It is what gets me up, it is what makes me smile, it is what makes me want to share my joy and my hope. Therefore in those moments of deepest pain and regret, are the moments that I can see his next guiding step. They are the only tines when I stop and listen. These are the times when I am vulnerable and open to that unbending and unyielding grace. It reminds me that without the joy and subsequently the sacrifice we would have nothing.  We have to have both. So, I have learnt not to hide my tears. Subsequently, my children have learnt that not everyone has the peace and security that they have. In this experience the have learnt to value the life and family they have. I miss more than ever the people I have lost along the way, but I have also learnt to value the people I have now so much more. I never miss a moment, never let them go without a goodbye, for I never know when it might be the last. Then as I hug them tight, I give thanks to God for the people I have in my life and the reassuring presence he has in each one of our lives.