My friend Joyce has sent a new Picture Tweet. This is what she says
Dear Friends,
Amidst all the different noises at this time of year, I often find it difficult to hear God’s voice, but this little robin showed me what it was like to just be still and listen for a few minutes before he flew away.
With my love and prayers, Joyce.
Here’s a short reflection from Simon Tugwell OP
Be Still and know that I am God enter into the chamber of your heart.
There is the Kingdom of God. in the utter stillness within. From that depth comes human joy; human love; human activity. Relax into the assurance of His love, His care.
These often quoted words about Prayer come from a poem by T. S. Eliot in a sequence known as the Four Quartets.The poem is called Little Gidding and it takes its name from a hamlet of that name in Cambridgeshire just north of Huntingdon. It was here in 1625 that Nicholas Ferrar founded a community to live a life of prayer.The Church of England commemorates him this weekend (December 4th)
The community consisted mainly of his family who had lived in London as merchants with mixed success and fortunes. In 1625, an outbreak of the Plague led them to leave the city and move to Little Gidding. But it wasn’t simply to escape the plague nor to escape bankruptcy.One reason they l;eft London was for the sake of Nicholas’s health. The family were particularly drawn to a closer walk with God and along with friends, sought a deeper life with God which was found by devoting themselves to worship and to prayer. In the words of Isaiah they were waiting on God in order to receive salvation.
Waiting on God is at the heart of the Advent Call to all of us. We are called to be still and seek to know Him as we prepare again to welcome the Christ Child into our hearts and minds and lives more fully – the surest sign we have of God’s Love for us.
The Ferrar family together with companions numbering about 40 set about creating, at Little Gidding, a Lay Community devoted to this waiting and watching for God and learning to be held and loved by him.
When they arrived there, they found the church in a sorry state and their first task was to clean and repair the building, to make it fit for the worship of Almighty God. Together, they then consecrated it with prayer.
This prayer was based on the 1552 Book of Common Prayer, known as the Prayer Book of Edward the 6th. This had been compiled by Archbishop Cranmer. From it the community prayed Morning and Evening Prayer together with reciting the Psalms. They also maintained ceaseless intercession. They also set up a school for local children who, having learned the Psalms came on Sundays to recite those they had learned in church. This was not quite a display of deep devotion it seems. For each recitation the children received a penny. Today we often ponder how we might grow our congregations. Well, they always say the old ways are the best ways. Perhaps it’s time to re-introduce the Little Gidding Penny Service!
Nicholas Ferrar was made a Deacon by Bishop Laud but he had no desire or sense of call to be a priest.Those duties were performed by the Vicar of Great Gidding who, once a month came to preach a sermon and celebrate Holy Communion with the community. He regularly led a round of devotions and taught people how to recite the Gospels.The community flourished in love and zeal, in holiness and kindness to all.
Nicholas died on the day after Advent Sunday 1637, at 1am in the morning, the usual time he rose to pray. He was buried at Little Gidding. The Community continued for a time but it was in the midst of the political upheaval of the Civil War and whilst King Charles sought refuge at Little Gidding, it became an unsafe place for the Monarch. The Puritans prevailed in the struggle and amidst sweeping changes in the practice of Anglicanism they eventually broke up a community that they feared was too demonstrative of faith. Yet another example of fear leading people to act irrationally and cruelly.
The Little Gidding community became a memory but what they did achieve was the consecration of lives making God more accessible and, by their prayers they made Little Gidding, Holy Ground. If you visit it today you will sense immediately that this is indeed, as Eliot put it in his poem, a place where prayer has been valid. A place, in fact which touches hearts and raises joyful faith in the lives of the visitors.In simple quietness the little church stands as it has gone on standing as a beacon of prayer. You cannot fail to sense that this is one of those thin places as Celtic Christianity liked to call them, where the divide between heaven and earth is paper thin. It is easy to sense God’s presence and to reach out and be touched by him.
One of my criteria for whether a Church is worth joining is whether God can be found there easily. Is it, in other words, showing signs of being a thin place. It was easy to say yes to that at Little Gidding, There is a stillness and holiness and tranquility which enfolds those who visit. Over centuries it has borne witness to the love of God meeting the halting love of the human heart which reaches towards the Divine and is held. Thin Places are also places with corners to weep in, where filled with whatever need, you can be enfolded in the arms of God.
Thin Places are also places of intersection where, as Mother Mary Clare of the Sisters of the Love of God, put it, you can stand at that intersection where human pain, hurt and conflict meet and are held by the transforming love of God. They are places of Transfiguration as well as spiritual affirmation.
Holy Places are also therefore, places of real struggle because in seeking God we seek a reality which is not always peaceful but frequently demanding. We are called to walk with God in darkness as well as light; in pain as well as quiet joy; in struggle to make good in a world which constantly seeks to drag us down.
Living out our faith means we are to love and to care; to forgive and to seek forgiveness; to make peace and be made peaceful, and all those things we have to go through if we are to understand the costly love God pours upon us; a love which though present since God created the world, comes, in Bethlehem, with a blaze of angelic light and a display of sheer glory – even if only a few saw it.
Advent today is not seen by many in its true meaning, but even in the lights and decorations and heightened expectations there is always a glimmer of the true Joy of Christmas.
None of it is bad. It just isn’t as good as it should or could be if focused in the right place.
Which is why we can draw inspiration from Nicholas Ferrar and those who kept God at the heart of things and for whom God in Jesus taught them the one thing we need to keep remembering. To bring the Holiness of God before people and to light up lives with hope and kindness, love and mercy , there is a cost.
In the poem Little Gidding, T S Eliot coins a phrase,
Costing not less than everything,
This is a reminder that people like Nicholas Ferrar in places like Little Gidding, or us in our holy places understand that cost to be everything. Nothing is held back and Advent is when once again we take the spiritual pilgrimage through Bethlehem to Calvary.
This reminds us that the cost has already been paid – by God in Jesus Christ!
On December 1st, the Church commemorates Charles de Foucauld. He was the inspiration for the religious order of the Little Brothers and Sisters of Jesus. They live in small communities in ordinary houses amongst ordinary people and their witness to Jesus is to share in everyday life and consecrate it by prayer and service.
Charles de Foucauld lived as a hermit in the Sahara desert amongst the Tuareg tribe. He believed that it was his mission to share the life of the poor and bring the love of Jesus to them. He taught the Gospel, translated the scriptures into the Tuareg native tongue and through silence and prayer, built up friendship. He dreamt of a community of like-minded little brothers and sisters of Jesus who would embrace the world with Christ’s love. Sadly, he never saw his dream come true because he was shot dead accidentally by French soldiers on December 1st 1916 during World War I. However, his vision became a reality and the community he longed for now carries out his dream.
Charles was not always religious and his early life, as a French Legionnaire was one of debauchery. Then, one day, sick in his soul, he visited a priest in Paris, Fr Huvelin, and told him that he needed ‘instruction’. ‘What you need’ said the wise priest, ‘is repentance’. He was then 28. Guided by this holy man he came to embrace Christ. He said, “As soon as I believed in God, I understood that I could not do otherwise than to live for Him alone.” From the most unpromising material God fashioned a vessel to pour out the Gospel. This reminds us that no one is beyond God’s redemption and love. From the depth of Charles’ heart comes this prayer.
Father, I abandon myself into Your hands; do with me what You will. Whatever You do, I thank You. I am ready for all, I accept all. Let only Your will be done in me, as in all your creatures, I ask no more than this, my Lord. Into Your hands I commend my soul; I offer it to You, O Lord, with all the love of my heart, for I love you, Lord, and so need to give myself – to surrender myself into Your hands, without reserve and with total confidence, For you are my Father.
Through Jesus Christ, our Lord.
This beautiful prayer of self-giving to God is an excellent prayer for us to pray and meditate on during Advent. It is not, however, an easy prayer.
[Mr.G]
Pope Francis is intending to declare Charles a Saint next May.
If you would like to read more about Brother Charles, a lovely book by Little Sister Kathleen of Jesus, would be a good choice:
“The Universal Brother, Charle de Foucauld speaks to us today”
My friend Joyce’s latest Tweet is of a Great Crested Grebe enjoying the silent stillness at Fishers Green.
The quotation she has chosen is by the Poet, Rumi – Listen to the Silence, it has much to say. As Christians enter the season of Advent once again, this is an appropriate prayer.
Jalaludin RUMI (1207-1273) was born in Balkh, Afghanistan which was then on the edge of the Persian Empire. In what sounds familar, the family was forced to flee from the invasion of the Mongol armies led by Genghis Khan. They settled in Turkey, at Konya, where Rumi lived for the rest of his life.
Here he began to write the poetry which was to influence so many, not least today. It is said that he is the most widely read poet in the English language.
God and Love are major themes in his work and combined with that is the communication we have with the Divine through Silence. Many of his poems end with reference to silence. Coleman Banks, a scholar, poet and author of a number of works about Rumi says: Rumi devotes a lot of attention to silence, especially at the end of poems, where he gives the words back into the silence they came from.
Rumi once wrote:
Close the door of words that the window of your heart may open. To see what cannot be seen turn your eyes inward and listen, in silence.
He maintained that Silence is the language of God. All else is poor imitation.
At the beginning of Advent we are invited to reflect and pray about the coming of God, as Rowan Williams puts it, as child, at Christmas. We do it liturgically through the Advent season by thinking in turn about the expectations of the Patriarchs, the Patriarchs, Prophets, John the Baptist and Mary but our reflections are bound up with our own expectations too. Advent is a time when we are invited to ponder God’s loving meaning for us. This is an invitation into silence. Being still so that we may know more truly and more personally who God is.
The problem is that we have to try and do this in a conflicting world which has differing values.
At the moment we are being assured by our Government and certain parts of the press, that Christmas is being saved. What I think that means is that the myth of a Christmas, driven by capitalism and the manufacture of a feel good factor, is being saved. I have considerable doubt that our Prime Minister and Government are the right people to bring any kind of salvation let alone a Christian one. (I also await the headlines that the Government is also saving Hannukah, Diwali, and Eid !) I prefer to keep Salvation as a prerogative of God, in His Incarnate Son.
Another theme of Advent is that of Waiting. This brings excitement to the expectation. We are looking forward to celebrating the absolute joy of God’s love which pours over us in the Christ-child of Bethlehem.
And our waiting is essential for our understanding of what that means for our world, our christian communities, ourselves. It is the poet R. S. Thomas who gave us the phrase: The meaning is in the waiting.
As the story of the birth of Jesus unfolds once again, we have to wait and watch and be still in case we miss what God is trying to say to us. We have to take Rumi’s words and act on them, Listen to the Silence – it has much to say.
In our busy, madly self-absorbed world, the Holy Family slip in at the silent pinnacle of the night. The stillness contrasts so much with the clamour of all those who speak but don’t listen; of those who write without thinking; of those who hurt and anger others into a position of mistrust. Our country and society are full of empty words and ill thought out solutions which change frequently and which endanger the world’s vulnerable. Too many words! Too little reflection!
So follow Rumi:
Close the door of words that the window of your heart may open. To see what cannot be seen turn your eyes inward and listen, in silence.
Those who listen and are still, even by snatching a few minutes, will hear the loving whisper of God. He has much love to share with us.
The Great Crested Grebe understands this. That is why she is still.
[Mr.G.]
As ever, Thank You, Joyce.
For those who would like to hear more from Rumi, try Rumi, Bridge of the Soul.’ (journeys into the music and silence of the heart poems translated by Coleman Bark with an introduction by him)published by HarperOne
Mr G's Ponderings 