Author Archives: Simon Marsh

About Simon Marsh

Anglican parish priest in Bramhall, Stockport, UK

ARE YOU GOING TO SAN FRANCISCO?

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TO SAN FRANCISCO? I wish. But no. No immediate plans. Bramhall’s my patch for the present. But some day. Some way. Because somehow St Gregory of Nyssa’s Church in San Francisco lives and listens and speaks with and about the kind of words I’m constantly wanting to say. And do. And Grace Cathedral too. Church Times’ front page photo of a celebration of the Eucharist at St Gregory’s represents for me the glorious hotch-potch of loved and redeemed humanity that is my own life’s prayer and perpetual dream. And there’s a big chunk of an extract of Sara Miles, author of Jesus Freak: Feeding, healing, raising the dead. 

Worship and service were part of a whole; the Friday food pantry and the Sunday eucharist were just different expressions of the same thing. Well meaning Christian visitors liked to describe the pantry as a “feeding ministry”, but that just seemed like a nervous euphemism to me. What I saw was church: hundreds of people gathering each week around an altar to share food and to thank God. And then, on Sundays, in the very same space, communion. The priest and whoever else was serving that day – a woman with cancer, a fussy older guy, a serene, angelic seven year old boy in shorts – would lift the plates of fresh bread and cups of wine, and turn, showing the food to the people standing pressed close around the big, round table in the middle of the sanctuary …

These words, and this photo, and these films speak to me of the God of Life whose own freedom has granted humankind its own. Freedom to explore. Freedom to become whole and holy in and amongst the hotch-potch of communities filled with people of every shade and hue and opinion and creed under the sun and stars. Freedom in which hospitality and generosity are extended to all. Am I going to San Francisco? Well, whether on earth, or the San Francisco in heaven, some day, I pray. And in the morning here in Bramhall? There will be alimentos gratis – the free food of Divine Love – in Eucharist at 8, 9 and 10.45am – and during the course of these celebrations, by the Grace of God, six children will be baptised …

BECOMING THE BELOVED

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Henri, I want a blessing …

YOU ARE MY BELOVED. On you my favour rests. – I’ve just come across this extraordinary little series of films and have found myself transported into the company of angels and archangels. Blessed be God for his eternal grace at work in Henri Nouwen (1932-1996) - dear Wounded Healer. Truly beloved.

JEAN

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in St Paul's Parish Centre, Macclesfield, 9 July 2003

in St Paul’s Parish Centre, Macclesfield, 9 July 2003

BACK TO BOLLINGTON today, by kind invitation of the Vicar, for the funeral thanksgiving for Jean Lawson (front far right) who I’ve known and loved for years – Jean’s having been a member of both St Paul Macclesfield and St Oswald Bollington. Some pictured here were present at St Oswald’s today. Others took part from a higher perspective. The Reverend Veronica Hydon led a wonderfully reflective service of thanksgiving, the most moving part of which, for me, was the sprinkling of the coffin by Jean’s sons, other family members, some devoted friends, and two of her priests, “In remembrance of her baptism”. Jean Lawson led others into Christian faith and practice by her sheer goodness. Goodness and mercy lead her now into the paths of peace, and old acquaintance …

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time

TS Eliot

ON FEAR & FUNDAMENTALISM

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LATE AFTERNOON conversation today with a small group whose lives have been marred, in different ways, by religious fundamentalism and the fear that has ensued, in one person especially, for many years. Did I know of any books or other resource material that touched upon these issues – fundamentalism and fear? And this interview with Brother David and Rabbi Jonathan Ober-Man was the first thing that sprang readily to mind.

Almost all I’ve ever read or heard of Brother David speaks of a need for growth in the spiritual life, a “growing up”, a gently guided passing through phases of religious experience. And this guidance comes for some, I would suggest, in the monastic or parish-based contexts, but can be every bit as useful when its provision arises out of ordinary everyday living, in family-life and in friendship. Certainly my family life, friendships and parish life have constantly nudged me towards growth, towards not resting too heavily upon what I have believed is “known” or “certain”.

The “doctrine of provisionality” – I know something now but I look to the possibility that I will somehow, someday know better – lends itself to keeping doors open, to maintaining openness and friendship. I’m growing up. I’ve learned that former certainties needed to be challenged, and that time has changed my perspective on all sorts of things. And everyone who’s growing up still has some learning to do. And fear is never a good environment for quality learning experiences. May we be guided gently. And may we take seriously the responsibility laid upon every human(e) person gently to guide others, even as we ourselves are guided.

ST PAUL’S ENGLAND

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ST PAUL’S MACCLESFIELD - where I was Vicar from 1990-1996 – has been an enormous influence in my life since January 1971 when much loved parish priest Kenneth Burghall left my home church in Claughton to become Vicar there, and I became a frequent visitor until my own Collation as Vicar of the parish nineteen years later.

I always thought of St Paul’s (set upon a hill) as “my cathedral church” and as I’ve prayed through the years, and always on the Feast of the Conversion of St Paul, I smile as I recall the delightful story of Macclesfield St Paul’s Church choir visiting Interlaken in Switzerland where they’d been invited to sing Evensong. A large and bright poster advertised their advent. Evensong was to be sung by the Choir of St Paul’s England. Someone else thought of Macc St Paul’s as a cathedral too! May the household of faith at St Paul’s Macclesfield (and at St Paul’s England) continue to bless and to be blessed.

GLORY IN GREY

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SUNLIGHT COMES AND GOES. Glory in a grey day. And I remember a long treasured gift (Martin Wharton, York, 1986), track it down and find the words that George MacLeod used to pray:

Almighty God, Sustainer:
Sun behind all suns,
soul behind all souls,
everlasting reconciler of our whole beings:
Show to us in everything we touch and in everyone we meet
the continued assurance of Thy presence round us:
lest ever we should think Thee absent.
In all created things Thou art there.
In every friend we have
the sunshine of Thy presence is shown forth.
In every enemy that seems to cross our path,
Thou art there within the cloud
to challenge us to love.
Show to us the glory in the grey.
Awake for us Thy presence in the very storm
till all our joys are seen as Thee
and all our trivial tasks emerge as priestly sacraments
in the universal temple of Thy love.

Of ourselves we cannot see this. Sure physician give us sight.
Of ourselves we cannot act. Patient lover give us love:
till every shower of rain speaks of Thy forgiveness:
till every storm assures us that we company with Thee:
and every move of light and shadow speaks of grave and
resurrection:
to assure us that we cannot die:
Thou creating, redeeming and sustaining God.

The Whole Earth Shall Cry Glory
Wild Goose Publications, 1985

COMMITMENT

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LONGISH CHURCH COUNCIL meeting tonight (8-10pm), but productive, and with plenty of causes for celebration scattered amongst Agenda items. It’s no secret that I’m a one-to-one-or-two-or-three sort of a man, not a great lover of formal meetings, still less of evening meetings after already very full days. Perhaps it’s worth recording, though, that I’m always impressed by the thought that in countless similar meetings, attended by volunteers all over the world, there’s a vast representation of human commitment to community building and a greater good, and that such endeavours teach us all, across lifetimes, how to listen to other people.

Some listen better than others. Some, like me, manage to listen attentively to some of the people at some of the meetings, and not to, or at others. It’s a human predicament. And extroverts and introverts, not to mention all the other different personality types, add further need for continuing improvement. But I think that Archbishop Sentamu was right when, addressing our diocesan clergy the other night, he stressed the great – even primary – need for listening in the Church and in the world. And in the life of a large and busy church like ours there’s certainly a lot of listening to be done. Tonight’s meeting showed me that, in our church council, there’s a high degree of commitment to the process. And I’m grateful for that.

THRESHOLDS

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THRESHOLDS: Paul Deakin is heading back to Mirfield tonight. I’ll be meeting with Tracy Ward tomorrow. Rachael Elizabeth (above) preached a fine sermon at St Michael’s this morning – and what each of these people have in common is their membership of the parish family here in Bramhall, and a sense – each at their different stages – of calling to test vocations to the priesthood. And this is really what Gospel good news is all about – not just call to priesthood, of course, but call at all, to all.

Divine call is still heard today, even in the midst of our all-too-busy – and what my late mentor Bishop Victor Whitsey used to call “naughty” – world. The spark of the Divine is to be found alive and well in the heart of all life. And teachers are taught by those they’re called to teach! Paul, Tracy and Rachael are amongst the contemporary apostles of Jesus who teach and inspire me.

Many, many people have spoken to me of their newfound confidence – whilst the echoes of Rachael’s address were still in the air – that under Grace the Church will yet thrive and grow in the things of God, in all that she is called and directed to be. God plants the seeds.

I’m reminded of the Lebanese mystic Kahlil Gibran:

Then said a teacher: Speak to us of teaching. And he said: No man can reveal to you aught but that which already lies half asleep in the dawning of your knowledge. The teacher who walks in the shadow of the temple, among his followers, gives not of his wisdom but rather of his faith and his lovingness. If he is indeed wise he does not bid you enter the house of his wisdom, but rather leads you to the threshold of your own mind. The astronomer may speak to you of his understanding of space, but he cannot give you his understanding. The musician may sing to you of the rhythm which is in all space, but he cannot give you the ear which arrests the rhythm, nor the voice that echoes it. And he who is versed in the science of numbers can tell of the regions of weight and measure, but he cannot conduct you thither. For the vision of one man lends not its wings to another man. And even as one of you stands alone in God’s knowledge, so must each one of you be alone in his knowledge of God and in his understanding of the earth …

Again: God plants the seeds in the heart of all created things. Divine call will lead Paul and Tracy and Rachael to the thresholds of their own minds, as  I am continually led to mine. And I watch, and I wait, in awe, and in gratitude, and in wonder.

STARSKY & HUTCH …

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I’M JUST ABOUT to show my age! – I was a fan of tv detective partnership Starsky & Hutch. Time on my hands and a Saturday afternoon sleep in the chair (!) have set me thinking about some of the many conversations I’ve had in the past week. And about partners – pals, trusted colleagues, the people who watch you, and wait with you, and work with you across the years. The people you rely on. The people who know the truth of you. The people whose truth you’ve had more than a few glimpses of. Like Starsky & Hutch. Life circumstances brought me into conversation this week with three of my oldest friends, all priests, all pals in the sense already alluded to, each of us different, each of us aware of our need of each other, and of mutual appreciation. I’ve been blessed by friends and I’m grateful for them – and for that they each know who they are.

MELODIES WOVEN …

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KELLY JOHNSON writes in God does not hurry (see ++ below)

In a beautiful reflection on time, Tolkien * wrote of creation as a work of music, a theme declared by the creator, Ilúvatar, and sung by the angels in their many voices. They

began to fashion the theme of Ilúvatar to a great music; and a sound arose of endless interchanging melodies woven in harmony that passed beyond hearing into the depths and into the heights, and the places of the dwelling of Ilúvatar were filled to overflowing, and the music and the echo of the music went out into the Void, and it was not void …

The gift of time is musical, moving at a pace that is fluid but ordered, growing to fullness without racing to get finished. The beat may be fast or slow, but the good musician knows not to hurry. Time is not the enemy, something to be gotten through; it is tempo, carrying mobile harmonies. Although sin enters in through one angel who wants to win glory by introducing his own themes, Ilúvatar continues to weave the music through to its end, not silencing the discordant elements, but introducing a new theme,

… and it was unlike the others. For it seemed at first soft and sweet, a mere rippling of gentle sounds in delicate melodies; but it could not be quenched, and it took to itself power and profundity.

Jesus does actually tell a story about God hurrying … rewarded with the sight of the prodigal on the road home, then God hurries, casting all caution to the wind, racing out to meet this lost child. The love that waits, scandalous in its patience, will finally be unreserved in its haste to welcome us into the feast of reconciliation. In the meantime, we wait in joyful hope.

* JRR Tolkien, The Silmarillion (London, 1977)

++ God does not … (chapter 3: God does not hurry) D Brent Latham, Editor, Brazos, 2009