Life & reflections from the Parishes of St. Cuthbert, Benfieldside and St. John, Castleside - in the Diocese of Durham
Monday, 31 March 2014
Parish Magazine - April issue now online
There's lots to read in our new Parish Magazine: all the details of Holy Week and Easter; preparations for our Annual Parochial Church Meeting; news of what has been happening and what is being planned - including "Messy Church," to be launched on Tuesday in Holy Week, 15th April; and a preview of our next three Book Club choices. Just click through to find all this and more!
Wednesday, 26 February 2014
To be a Pilgrim…
A pilgrimage is a special sort of
journey. Pilgrimages to the Holy Land and Santiago de Compostela seem to be
growing ever more popular - I’ve done one and would love to do the other, if I
can find a spare six weeks or so to do it properly (and more time off to
recover!). A new Pope has generated interest in pilgrimages to Rome, “the Holy
City,” and not only amongst Roman Catholics. But you don’t need to go that far.
Nearer to home we can make a pilgrimage to the tombs of Cuthbert and Bede in
our own Durham Cathedral - and if you go up to the Holy Island of Lindisfarne
you can walk across the sands at low tide to bring home the sense of a journey
that might require a bit of effort.
A pilgrimage requires the intention of going
somewhere - but it doesn’t necessarily require an understanding at the outset
of what we shall find. The purpose of making the journey is to find something
out along the way - the discovery of something about ourselves, about God and
about God’s purpose for us. If it’s a physical journey it needs to be more than
sight-seeing, always asking what is God showing me?
But to undertake a pilgrimage doesn’t
necessarily require that you go that far - or even travel anywhere else at all.
It can be to stay where we are, yet nevertheless explore where Christ is
calling us. Lent is a special season which is a sort of pilgrimage in itself.
We start on Ash Wednesday with the opportunity to recognise our need and
frailty. God is calling us to repentance - and immediately promising us
forgiveness and the grace to do better. That’s why ash is used at the Eucharist
that day - to show us what we are reduced to the mere chemical elements of
which we are composed: “to dust we shall return.” And yet God has given us a
glorious calling also - of life which is made new by the love of Christ for us.
The journey from Ash Wednesday through Lent and Holy Week via the Cross to
Easter Day is to help us recognise that calling.
Pilgrimages are at their best when you travel
with others. That’s what we should be doing whenever we gather for prayer and
worship - and throughout there’s a social aspect of encouragement for one
another. Let’s make the most of it this Lent, by personal dedication, in
recognition of a common calling, by sharing and mutual support, by the use of
resources which are there, if only we’ll look.
I’m glad that a good number of people have
already signed up for a special course of study, discussion and prayer this
Lent. Appropriately it’s got the title, “Pilgrim.” It’s an official publication
of the Church of England. Following the course we won’t be out on our own -
thousands of others will be working at it too. It’s part of a much larger
series provided to encourage people on their journey of faith. This one in
particular looks at the Lord’s Prayer. Intentionally it is very basic. And we
need to examine the basics of our faith, to review the path of our calling if
we are to grow properly. As a parish we’ve identified the need to grow in
understanding of the basics of our faith and to put prayer at the heart of our
life. So this course aims to fulfil both intentions.
Whether or not you’re taking part in this
specific course, please make the most of Lent. As a season of just six and a
half weeks it gives us all a measured course. We may not know where it will
lead us as we start - but let’s pray that we’ll be better for it at its end.
Martin Jackson
Tuesday, 25 February 2014
God's Creation and our Response of Gratitude
(From the Sung Eucharist - 23rd February 2014)
God’s Creation is good. That’s what today’s First Reading tells us. God creates the heavens and the earth; separates light and darkness; brings into being great constellations; provides us with a world of rich resources and vast oceans too; he fills the world with plants and vegetation of every kind; he makes living creatures from the smallest bacteria through a whole array of sea creatures, birds and animals in a variety and richness to cause us to wonder; and he creates human beings - men and women. He looks on all this work of Creation - and he sees that it is very good.
God’s Creation is good. That’s what today’s First Reading tells us. God creates the heavens and the earth; separates light and darkness; brings into being great constellations; provides us with a world of rich resources and vast oceans too; he fills the world with plants and vegetation of every kind; he makes living creatures from the smallest bacteria through a whole array of sea creatures, birds and animals in a variety and richness to cause us to wonder; and he creates human beings - men and women. He looks on all this work of Creation - and he sees that it is very good.
There’s the
well-worn story of the Vicar out for a walk one day - and he meets the grumpiest
man in the village hard at work in his garden. Mr. Grumpy never shows up in
church - he’s always in his garden - and he gets results: it’s the most
beautiful garden for miles around. The Vicar is a pious soul: “You should
praise God for the beauty of Creation,” he tells Mr. Grumpy. “Just look at this
wonderful garden he has given you.” “Oh, aye,” says Mr. Grumpy. “And you should
have seen the state of it when God had it all to himself.”
I look at
my garden and wonder… Actually someone pointed out that it was getting a bit
hard to look at my garden because the windows of my house were so dirty and it
was rather difficult to see through them. When I told a friend he offered to
come round and hold the ladder while I cleaned them. So we did that during the
part of my day off that I managed to salvage on Friday. What a difference!
It’ll be even better if I get round to cleaning the insides too! One of the
reasons for doing this is that our new Bishop of Durham is going to come round
and visit each of his clergy at home. The last one was going to do this, though
it never quite happened… With this one I’ve already got a date and a time:
Bishop Paul is coming to the Vicarage on Ash Wednesday afternoon! Just 10 days
time! What impression will he take from what he sees?
Actually
I’ve just received a Quinquennial Inspection report on the Vicarage from our
Diocesan Surveyor. The good news is that it looks like the diocese might repair
the wine cellar door. The embarrassing bit is that they comment on the garden
and its “overgrown borders” - a bit unfair I thought when I just haven’t had
time and a dry day to clear them out. A previous Surveyor used instead to say
simply that they were “well-stocked,” which I thought was a far kinder
approach. Anyway, I’ve been galvanised into action. I’ve raked out nearly all
the old stuff both front and back - and to make sure I can no longer be accused
of having vegetation that is overgrown, I’ve taken the lawn mower over the
borders of the front garden. It’s the radical approach - though not quite as
radical as a youth group I had in a previous parish which was given the
challenge of clearing up my garden. They found a carpet in my garage, spread it
out over the beds of weeds and set fire to it. I only found out later that we
were storing the carpet for a friend of the family.
The good
news following my latest efforts in the garden is that I can see the first
signs of spring. Snowdrops had been sheltering behind the dead remains of last
year’s flowers. The daffodils are pushing their way up through piles of leaves
and whatever else it was that I’ve now raked away. I’m hoping that I may find
crocuses growing where I’ve cut down some other unidentified green stuff that
had spread itself too luxuriantly over half the front garden.
And when I
sat outside the church the other afternoon to say Evening Prayer on Albert and
Joan Bartrope’s bench the birds were singing away, heralding the spring.
Creation is good. My heart lifts when I look out of my bedroom window in the
morning to see two deer in the garden below. The pheasant is back. Even those
irritating grey squirrels and the pigeons are part of God’s carefree creation.
And you see its beauty in the smallest things. Coal tits, I think they are,
flitting around in the trees below the Vicarage, and the blackbird is back in
my juvenile cherry tree.
Jesus tells
the disciples: “Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor
gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.” Thankfulness needs
to be our first response to God. If people would show more gratitude and do
less complaining and grumbling, I’m sure the world would be a better place. “God
clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown
into the oven,” says Jesus. Remember that, if you’re worried about new clothes
for the sake of keeping up with fashion. Get a sense of perspective if you
think you need a new car and the last one isn’t even out of its warranty - or a
new phone or laptop or tablet or whichever model of PlayStation or Xbox they’re
up to now (I’m talking to myself as well as anyone else I might be offending!).
But of
course Jesus is speaking to people who have
the luxury of worrying about these things. There are also those who have real cause for worry. St. Paul in our
reading from his Letter to the Romans speaks of Creation being “subjected to
futility” - and of Creation “groaning in labour pains.” There are many people
who have experienced that this winter - with flooded fields and homes, cut-off
communities and the heartache of loss. Creation seems to be going wrong - or
perhaps we just felt we could control it and now we’re discovering the
difference between the stewardship of creation and its misuse for our own ends.
Whatever the case, the pain of so many people who have seen well-loved homes
damaged and cherished possessions ruined cannot be denied.
But when
money is said to be no object by the Government as it announces its intention
of bringing relief to these communities, I think we need a new perspective.
When it hurts to see what the people of these communities have lost, we need to
remember those who live with the daily
reality of surviving on the breadline. Along with the person whose home has
been temporarily lost to the floods, there needs to be concern for the family
which might be forced from their home because it’s judged that they have one
bedroom too many so they have their housing benefit cut - and where will they
go when there aren’t enough small houses to move into. Most of us do well to
hear Jesus say, “Don’t worry about what you will eat, what you will drink or
what you will wear,” because we probably eat and drink too much anyway. But for
the unemployed person who finds that their benefit has been delayed or denied -
or who has been penalised because it’s said they haven’t written enough
applications for jobs which they’re not going to get anyway, this is a matter
for real worry.
At his
enthronement yesterday Bishop Paul encouraged us to believe in growth in a real
way. Just look at how the Food Bank movement has grown from something so small,
he said. But while it’s good that there has been that growth, the sadness is
that it should have been necessary. As Bishop Paul went on, God’s people are to
provide a place of welcome for all. And “God’s kingdom is open to all, poor and
rich, old and young, from whatever nation on earth. It is to be a place of
shelter and security for the broken, the hurting, the lost, the refugee, the
abused and indeed a place of transformative renewal for the abusers and sufferers
too.”
Do not
worry, says Jesus. But look and see the goodness of God. Be thankful. Look at
what God enables to grow. Be thankful, not complaining. And then - seeing what
God has given us - be generous as God has been generous to us.
Tuesday, 21 January 2014
Here is the Lamb of God - recognising Christ
“Look! Here is the Lamb of God,” says
John the Baptist in today’s Gospel reading (John 1.35-42). Actually he says it twice.
First he sees Jesus coming towards him and says, “Here is the Lamb of God
who takes away the sin of the world.” And from that he goes on to speak about
the Baptism of Jesus - how the Holy Spirit coming upon Jesus at his Baptism
shows him to be the Son of God. John has seen it for himself - and he wants to
tell people about it.
And then John says it again the next day. “Look! Here is the Lamb of
God!” This time Jesus is walking past while John is standing there with two of
his disciples. John points out Jesus and the two people with him decide to find
out more. They leave John and follow after Jesus.
What does it mean to you to hear those
words, “Here is the Lamb of God!”? We use them Sunday by Sunday, even day by
day at the Eucharist. It’s the invitation which we normally use in this church
to come to the altar to receive Christ’s Body and Blood - and we are reminded
“Blessed are those who are called to his Supper.” Blessing is to be found by
recognising Jesus and knowing him for who he is.
Perhaps though, we hear those words so
often that we just take them for granted. Or we’ve never really thought through
what they mean. On altars and in stained glass windows you’ll sometimes see a
depiction of a lamb holding a cross. It can look cutely fluffy and pretty
innocuous. But look more closely and you might see blood flowing from the
lamb’s neck and into a chalice. This is about the lamb as a sacrificial victim,
its blood shed and offered for a purpose.
There’s something new about the “Lamb of
God” pointed out by John. Lambs and sheep
were not the obvious offering for sacrifice in the Jewish Temple. Bulls and goats were offered to take away the sins of the people on the Day
of Atonement. Offerings of grain and
other fruits of the earth could be made especially at Harvest-time. Incense was burned as a sacrifice
declaring that earth is joined with heaven in the praises of the Temple. The sacrifice of a lamb was something else -
and for Jews sacrificing a lamb was not about taking away sin. It was about people and their place before God. Abel,
the son of Adam and Eve, makes a sacrifice of the first-born of his flocks of
sheep - and his offering is approved by God, whose lack of favour shown to
Abel’s brother, Cain, leads to the first recorded murder. Abraham is turned by an angel from sacrificing his son Isaac instead
to offer a ram in his place. And the Book
of Leviticus made it a law that every first born son should be redeemed by
the offering of a ram - though in the case of poor families like that of Jesus
it could be replaced by sacrificing two doves.
Each of these sacrifices is about a
personal offering - and one where the lamb stands in for an individual. The whole person needs to be redeemed before
God. Except there is one particular
time when the sacrifice of lambs meant something more. It's at the time of
the Feast of the Passover. Lambs were offered and their blood smeared above the
door of Jewish households as a sign of God’s love for his people, his care and
rescue of the Israelites as he freed them from slavery in Egypt before leading
them to their own Promised Land.
Now John the Baptist points out Jesus and
says, “Here is the Lamb of God!” God is doing something new for his people -
and in the course of things we will discover it’s not merely another Exodus,
God’s care for people of one particular race and nation. It’s a new Passover
which shows God’s redeeming love for the
world - for all its people. “Here
is the Lamb of God!” Are we going to recognise how God is at work in Jesus?
You can miss it through a sense of
familiarity… “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” We
sing about that every Sunday before we come to Communion in the words of the Agnus Dei.
Lamb of God, you take away the sin of the world, have mercy on us.
Lamb of God, you take away the sin of the world, have mercy on us.
Lamb of God, you take away the sin of the world, grant us peace.
Do we take in what we are saying and
singing?
For some people, talk about “sin” is a
bit of a turn-off. Its reality escapes us. It’s something we might see in other people rather than ourselves - or
it gets associated with sexual wrongdoing, and these days pretty well anything
between consenting adults is reckoned to be OK. Problems that many people have
in recognising what is entailed by talk about sin have led to proposals for some
changes in the Baptism service.
Predictably some parts of the media (notably the Daily Mail and Bishop Michael Nazir Ali) have started shouting
about the Church getting weak about its own convictions through the proposal to
drop the word “sin” itself in the Decision made before Baptism. Talk of “dying
to sin” and the question, “Do you repent of your sins?” get removed from the
text.
But that doesn’t mean the Church is getting wishy-washy. The attempt is to
produce something more meaningful than those bits of the service which provoke
a response of blank, bored looks. Something more
than words is necessary. Baptism is God’s
way of addressing us as whole people and asking for a response which will
change the whole of our lives.
The first followers of Jesus discover
this when John the Baptist points out Jesus as “the Lamb of God.” First time
round he declares “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world”
- but we just hear John talking; no one does anything about it.
But the next day when he again points
Jesus out - “Look! Here is the Lamb of God!” - there’s something that moves two
of his disciples to do something that will lead to their being changed for
ever. They follow Jesus. Jesus asks them, “What are you looking for?” - and
they don’t know. But they ask “where are you staying?” And then they take up
the invitation, “Come and see.”
“Come and see” is Jesus’ invitation to us
as well. His first followers spend the day with him. Then they go and tell
other people about Jesus - and they come to find out for themselves.
That’s what we need to do.
The new proposals for the Baptism service
don’t drop sin and its consequences.
They require the rejection of evil as “all that destroys” - not just “evil” as
a short word you can easily say, but “all its many forms” and “all its empty
promises.” The challenge is to make the response, “I turn to Christ” - and to keep on doing so: “And to put my trust in him… And to promise to follow him for ever.”
That’s a challenge to anyone who is thinking
about being baptised or having their child baptised. It’s a challenge to all of
us here. “Look! Here is the Lamb of God!” Are we ready to learn more about this
man, Jesus? Are we prepared to take the trouble to spend time with him? How
will we respond to his invitation? - “Come and see.”
Labels:
discipleship,
Epiphany,
Jesus,
John the Baptist,
Lamb of God
Wednesday, 25 December 2013
Christmas at St. Cuthbert's
We wish you a very happy and blessed Christmas!
Monday, 23 December 2013
Getting ready for Christmas
Sorry there hasn't recently been time for posting on this blog. Another way you can keep up-to-date is through our new Facebook page.
We're making final preparations in both churches for the celebration of Christmas. I've just left Rainbows, Brownies and Guides who are making massive numbers of Christingles for use at St. Cuthbert's Christmas Eve Carol Service - 6p.m. 24th December. It's followed by 11.30p.m. Midnight Mass - and a 9.30a.m. Eucharist for Christmas Morning.
St. John's, Castleside had a well-attended Carol Service (again with Christingles) yesterday evening. Celebrate Christmas there with a Vigil Mass at 8p.m. on Christmas Eve. and a 10a.m. Eucharist for Christmas morning.
Thursday, 5 December 2013
He became poor that we may be rich…
These
are words of a gentle meditation from the Iona Community which we’ve used to
begin our Christmas Midnight Mass. And once they’re sung - and we’ve followed
them with “Once in royal David’s city” - we begin the liturgy itself:
And Christmas shows us how that can be. The love of God, reaching down to us. God’s Son taking human flesh to touch and heal us. We need the opportunities to acknowledge what we are before God: what we lack; what we might be with his help. And he doesn’t leave us simply to struggle with that knowledge. In Jesus he meets us in our need.
This is the "View from the Vicarage" in our current Parish Magazine - click to read it online. You can also find our Parish Christmas Card in print-it-yourself format - with details of Christmas services.
Welcome all wonders in one sight!
Eternity shut in a span.
Summer in winter, day in night,
heaven in earth and God in man.
Great little one whose all-embracing
birth
brings earth to heaven, stoops heaven
to earth.
They’re
words of beauty which express the deepest truth. So much else about the
traditional celebration of Christmas resonates in our hearts from lullabies
like the “Rocking Carol” and “Away in a Manger” to the raucous cheerfulness of
“God rest ye merry, gentlemen.”
But
there is the celebration of Advent beforehand - and it can introduce a note
which jars or trips us up. I’m always challenged by the appearance of John the
Baptist in his way of proclaiming Christ’s coming. The hymn “On Jordan’s bank
the Baptist’s cry” is not at all Christmassy - this year I’ve been pulled up
short by this verse:
Stretch forth thine hand, to heal our
sore,
And make us rise to fall no more;
Once more upon thy people shine,
And fill the world with love divine.
The
“sore” is the frailty of our human condition. It obviously troubles some hymn
book compilers who give a different rendering of this verse. It’s the wound
which saps our energy and leaves us failing in our endeavours. It’s something
more than “sin” - itself a misunderstood concept. “Our sore” needs to be
acknowledged if it is to be healed: ”Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy
on me, a sinner,” asks the Jesus Prayer. It’s knowing what we are that we can
find the grace to become what we might be.
And Christmas shows us how that can be. The love of God, reaching down to us. God’s Son taking human flesh to touch and heal us. We need the opportunities to acknowledge what we are before God: what we lack; what we might be with his help. And he doesn’t leave us simply to struggle with that knowledge. In Jesus he meets us in our need.
This is the "View from the Vicarage" in our current Parish Magazine - click to read it online. You can also find our Parish Christmas Card in print-it-yourself format - with details of Christmas services.
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