Tag: Faith

A voice from the Desert

Lakeland hills appearing like a desert. photo by Gill Henwood.

A Voice from the Desert ~ St. Antony of Egypt. (f.d. 17th January)

There are significant dates in our lives, which can lead to a change of direction and a new way of living.This was very true of St. Antony of Egypt, also known as ‘the great’.
Antony was born in Egypt in 250AD, the son of a prosperous farmer. His family were Christian and he grew up hearing the Gospel read each Sunday in his local church. His parents died and Antony gained a rich inheritance which he shared with his sister.

The significant day in his life was when he was 20. He went to church one Sunday morning and he heard the Gospel including the words: Go, sell all you have, and give to the poor; and come, follow me.
Antony heard God calling to him through those words and he left the church, made provision for his sister and then sold all his goods and gave the money to the poor. He then left home and, after a time of spiritual preparation, he eventually set up a simple hut in the Desert of Egypt where, for the rest of his long life, he lived in solitude and prayer. He became one of the founders of  the monastic life.

We might think that Antony was rather extreme in his interpretation of the Gospel. After all, how many times have we heard those words and not acted upon them in that way. Yet Antony knew that he had heard God’s voice. For him this was a clear sign of his vocation and he had the courage to respond. He lived a life dedicated to prayer, fasting, daily recitation of the psalms and to combating those forces in the world that are against God, including personal temptations and the battle for true holiness.
Others were attracted to his way of life and communities began to be formed of people who sought a pure prayerful life. Antony became a spiritual guide to many, including streams of Christians living in towns and cities and who came to him for guidance. Some of that guidance was collected as ‘words’  which remain available to us today in collections of sayings’ of the Desert Fathers and Mothers.

Antony died in 356, over 100 years old. By the time he died he had learned the most important thing that every Christian must learn—he learned how to love God and to respond through this love to the immense and unconditional love that God had for him, as God has for all of us.

Few of us today are likely to be called to live in a deserted place, though those who have found time to do so, even for a short while, know just how valuable and precious that time is for communing with God without distraction. Some, of course, are called, like Antony, to live as members of Religious Communities as monks and nuns.
But all of us are called to dedicate our lives to God and to serve him in whatever way is right for us. We can’t get away with saying something like, “it’s all right for Antony and the other desert dwellers.. They had a spiritual greatness that few of us can even get near.”
Actually they wouldn’t claim to be specially great. But they did recognize the greatness of God and they wanted to respond to this in some way.
Saints are important for us simply because they are ordinary Christians like us but who knew the Gospel to be extraordinary. It changes lives. If it doesn’t then we wouldn’t be Christians at all. Because it changed Antony’s life, the Church became more Godly and the world more lovely. That can be just as true for us today.
Listen and let God tell you how.

Tau Cross. Symbol of St. Antony of Egypt.

St Antony,
You had everything.
Then one day you heard the voice of God.
“Antony, go sell all you possess
and have nothing.”
So you did,
and then you had everything.

[Mr. G. January 2024]

By star and candlelight

Candles decorated by children at St Mary-at-Latton.(and below) Photos: Mr G

Every so often, astronomers astound us with yet another discovery in space. 
On December 11th we received news that NASA’s James Webb space telescope has captured an image of what our galaxy was like as it was forming. The telescope, the most powerful ever built, is orbiting in space free from hindrance by the Earth’s atmosphere. This makes its images more pure and more accurate.
The particular image that has excited astronomers shows 10 balls of stars of different colours which has led space scientists to liken it to baubles on a Christmas tree.
The real significance of the image is that it’s the first time it has been possible to witness the stars assembling to form a galaxy which holds clues of how our own galaxy, the Milky Way came into being.
It’s rather good that we have news of our Universe which is positive just when various sections of humanity are trying their hardest to destroy our bit!
Much more will be gleaned from this discovery which continues to add to the knowledge we have of our own universe. In many ways the Universe is a mystery but each new discovery adds to our enlightenment.
Perhaps in that respect it is mirroring God who created the Universe and even found time to create us! God is a mystery who constantly reveals himself to us especially, Christians believe, through Jesus Christ but also through our gifts, knowledge, skills and talents.

Sometimes God’s revelation is accompanied by some celestial event like a bright star. 
Writers in the Bible tell us of many constellations. Individual stars are mentioned. In the Book of Job there is a beautiful conversation between God and Job (in chapter 38) where God asks Job where he was when the Lord laid the foundations of the earth. The writer shows the depth of ancient knowledge when he asks whether Job can bind the chains of Pleiades or loose the cords of Orion. 
The star of Bethlehem referred to in Matthew’s Gospel as the one leading the Magi to the Christ child has also led many scientists into the realms of speculation.  As far as the Bible is concerned this is the star which heralds Christ’s birth.
The theme of light which is signified by such stars is central to Advent because it speaks to us of the expectation of God coming to light up the world with his new presence in Jesus Christ.  This is the Love of God beginning the process of transforming the world with light. 

Not surprisingly, when the Church leaders chose December 25th *** for our celebration of Christmas it was the time in the West at least, when the world is at its darkest.  It was also the time of the pagan Winter festival and early Christians preferred to overlay pagan religion with new Christian meaning. Sweeping pagan practices away would merely drive them underground.  Changing their meaning and adding new depth made for a more permanent and ready acceptance of the, then, new faith. Good missioners always start where people are before helping them into new understanding.
It may well be that the pagan solstice was subjected to a pincer movement because December 13th is the feast of St Lucy whose very name means Light (and from which we get the word lucid – to make clear) 
Lucy was a 4th century Christian who fell foul of an attempt by the Roman Emperor to re-establish worship of the old  gods. She was betrothed to a man who expected a decent dowry. Instead of which she gave her possessions to the poor.  The angry suitor denounced her to the authorities and she was put to death for her faith in 304AD.  Because her martyrdom was in December her festival quickly became associated with Christmas. 

Probably, the main reason why Lucy became associated with Light overcoming darkness is because the final act of torture was that her eyes were gouged out, plunging her into complete darkness physically. Yet the physical darkness was itself overcome by the brightness of her faith. She had within her the love and light of Christ and her enemies couldn’t quench that. That encouraged other Christians facing persecution. The light of her faith pointed believers to Jesus, the one true light who was coming into a darkened world with hope and new life.  Christ Jesus, who in the final book of the Bible is called the Bright Morning Star, fills all our lives with light. That is both the hope and the witness we must bear in a deeply darkened world.

Maybe we can look to the people of Scandinavia who understand more than most about darkness at the heart of Winter. St Lucie’s  day is an important feast not only because of her own overcoming of darkness but because of the physical darkness in Scandinavia at the time of the Winter Solstice ~ the darkest day of the year. In the old Calendar, December 13th, her feast day, was at that time. She became a symbolic example of light conquering darkness. This is why, in Scandinavia, the feast incorporates a celebration of light involving processions in which girls chosen in communities to represent the saint in wearing a crown of candles (possibly battery operated these days!) and accompanied by others including boys known as star boys.
This deserves an article of its own but the underlying reason is that St Lucy was light in a dark place and her faithfulness to God was an example from which others could draw strength and inspiration.
Never is this more needed than today!

The night treads heavily
in places unreached by sun,
the shadows brood
in the dark places of our world,
where human deeds are black.
St Lucy comes,
bearing lighted candles,
heralding the light of God,
the Christ-child who comes anew
at Christmas.
Let us be ready to greet Him
with the joyful light of goodness
and of peace.

[adapted by Mr G from a traditional song from Sweden)

*** The Orthodox Church follows a different Calendar and keeps Christmas on January 6th

[Mr G]

Singing the song in our heart

Photo: Lynn Hurry

I post this on St Cecilia’s Day, November 22nd. Since the 15th century she has been known as the Patron Saint of Music. A document known as the Golden Legend’ described her as a “bride of Christ whose love of music elevated her soul to God.  This document also encouraged us to consider the link between earth and heaven. It is a link between the song of heaven, led by the angels and the echo of that song on earth, particularly in religion, poetry and music.

The poet, John Dryden, wrote a Song for St Cecilia’s Day which strengthened that link and serenaded the power of music with the line:

“What Passion cannot music raise and quell?”

For many of us, this is expressed in song and hymns and psalms whilst others use the gifts they have to make music in other ways. (Not a mutually exclusive experience!)
Song and music as an expression of faith has been the subject of a short piece of writing by the Taizé Community which is worth pondering over:

Singing is one of the most essential elements of worship. Short songs, repeated again and again, give it a meditative character. Using just a few words they express a basic reality of faith, quickly grasped by the mind. As the words are sung over many times, this reality gradually penetrates the whole being. Meditative singing thus becomes a way of listening to God. It allows everyone to take part in a time of prayer together and to remain together in attentive waiting on God, without having to fix the length of time too exactly.
To open the gates of trust in God, nothing can replace the beauty of human voices united in song. This beauty can give us a glimpse of “heaven’s joy on earth,” as Eastern Christians put it. And an inner life begins to blossom within us.
These songs also sustain personal prayer. Through them, little by little, our being finds an inner unity in God. They can continue in the silence of our hearts when we are at work, speaking with others or resting. In this way prayer and daily life are united. They allow us to keep on praying even when we are unaware of it, in the silence of our hearts. (Taizé Community)

I love the quotation from Maya Angelou which accompanies the photo above.
In the interplay of the Godly song of heaven and our earthly melody of the heart it is good for Maya to remind us that the main reason we can sing and make music is because there is a song in our heart to be sung. A Song put there by God. It raises spirits and lifts our lives beyond ourselves to God. That’s a good enough reason for me to sing.

[Mr G + Taizé Community]

Remembrance is important

A Reflection from Piers Northam on Remembrance Sunday

The beginning of St Mark’s Gospel tells of Jesus walking along the beach at the Sea of Galilee, calling his disciples, the fishermen Peter and Andrew, James and John.  Calling them to follow him and calling them to a life of service.  Ultimately, for many of his disciples, it would turn out to be service that would cost them their lives.

And on this Remembrance Sunday morning we remember those who have answered another call to service – in this case the service of their country – and who have given their lives in that service.

As I’ve reflected, this week, on what I might say on this Remembrance Sunday morning, I’ve been pondering on the difference between ‘memory’ and ‘remembrance’, and I wonder if we might take ‘remembrance’ to be the shared calling to mind and recounting of events or people that we don’t necessarily directly remember ourselves?  Certainly, if we take the Second World War, there is a sense that it is receding into history and that fewer and fewer people remember it first-hand and with that comes the danger that it will seem less and less ‘real’, less and less affecting.  And, of course, there have been many other conflicts since, that British forces have been involved in – Aden, Korea, the Falklands, Kosovo, Iraq, Afghanistan – all of which will be remembered by those who served and were involved, but which otherwise can also seem increasingly distant and less relevant. 

Yet on Remembrance Sunday each year we gather as a nation to remember; to recount the stories of war and the cost of war; to remember and give thanks for the sacrifice of those who gave their lives – or who had their lives irrevocably altered – hopefully, in the pursuit of peace and stability.  Remembrance and the wearing of poppies is also bound up in our sense of identity – one of the rare times in the year when so many of us, from all walks of life, are drawn together collectively to reflect and to remind ourselves of the horrors of war; of the ways that we can, as humans, descend so quickly into conflict and of the urgent and constant need to work for peace and never to be complacent.

Currently, as we look around the world, it seems as though the vital lessons of war and conflict have been entirely forgotten in some places.  Mr Putin blithely sends thousands of men to their deaths in an attempt to grab land and territory from the Ukrainian people; Mr Netanyahu – despite the historic imperative for remembrance of the horrors of the Jewish experience in the Second World War – rains bombs and missiles on thousands of defenceless civilians in Gaza and now in Lebanon.  It seems that, all too easily, we forget the human cost of war – or we forget what it was like to be on the receiving end of such aggression and begin to entertain the notion of meting it out on others.

All of which underlines the importance of gathering together to remember.  Of looking the cost of war in the eye and striving all the more conscientiously and urgently for peace.

Remembrance is important.

In our Tuesday housegroup, we’re currently doing a series of sessions where we’ve begun looking at and comparing readings from the Old and New Testament to see what they help us to understand about Jesus.  This last week we looked at the first Passover in Egypt when the Israelites, who had been living in slavery under the Egyptians, were given specific instructions about killing and eating an unblemished, year-old lamb and using its blood to mark the doorposts and lintels of their dwellings so that, when the Angel of Death came over the land in the final plague on Pharaoh and the Egyptian people, it would pass over their houses and the Israelites would be spared death – and subsequently would be able to flee the country and the years of slavery they had endured and so set out on their very long journey to the Promised Land.

The book of Exodus sets out the very particular instructions that the Lord gives to Moses and Aaron for the people and the Lord also says:

‘This day shall be a day of remembrance for you.
You shall celebrate it as a festival to the Lord; throughout your generations you shall observe
it as a perpetual ordinance.’

And, of course, that is what the Jewish people have done ever since – they have gathered around the family table each year to keep the Passover and to tell the story: to recount how, through the goodness and faithfulness of God, they were spared death and set free from their years of bondage and slavery.  The Passover story is a huge part of Jewish identity – a story that all Jews brought up in the faith will know.  A story that teaches them about the nature and the goodness of God.

And on Tuesday night we discovered some of the strong parallels between what happened at the Passover in Egypt and the story of Jesus’ Passion in Jerusalem.  Because of course, at the Last Supper, Jesus and his disciples were keeping Passover – they had gathered around the table in the upper room to remember; to recount their story and to share food for the journey and, in a new twist, Jesus gave them just that.  Not the traditional food of the Passover meal, but bread and wine: the body and blood of Jesus, the Lamb of God.  And what does Jesus say as he gives them the broken bread and the cup of wine?

‘Do this in remembrance of me…’[2]

The details of the ancient Passover were fulfilled in Jesus – he was the perfect, unblemished Lamb.  And the next day, as he was crucified, his blood was shed for us, marking not the posts and lintels of the Israelites’ doors but the wooden upright and crossbeam of the cross.  It was his blood that set us free from the slavery of sin and opened us up to everlasting life.  And so, we became a pilgrim people: the people of the Way – Christians from all over the world and down the ages, travelling towards God’s Kingdom.

So, in a sense, for us as Christians, every Sunday is Remembrance Sunday; every Sunday is a family Passover where we gather to remember what Jesus did for us on the cross.  In the eucharistic prayer that we will hear in a moment and in the creed that we say collectively, we recount the story of God’s saving and redeeming love for us in Jesus – of how he set us free from the limitation and slavery of sin and how he spared us from death and opened the gate of glory – the way to everlasting life.  And every Sunday we share the family meal – the food for the journey – the bread and the wine that we take in remembrance of Jesus, to nourish and sustain us.  And then we are sent out into the world – ‘to love and serve the Lord’ and to help the world to make its way into God’s Kingdom; to bring His Kingdom in…

You see, remembrance is important.

Amen.

[1] Exodus 12:14

[2] 1 Corinthians 11:24-25

[Piers Northam, Deacon at St Mary’s-at Latton]