Advent Sunday by Christina Rossetti

I pay particular attention when I come across a poem by Christina Rossetti. This is because our Diocesan Higher Education Chaplaincy office is located in the house in Bloomsbury where she lived for the last ten years of her life. Our office is in the two basement rooms – not the whole house!

Below the image is Rossetti’s poem Advent Sunday from Malcolm Guite’s wonderful anthology for Advent ‘Waiting on the Word.’

Advent Sunday by Christina Rossetti

 

BEHOLD, the Bridegroom cometh: go ye out

With lighted lamps and garlands round about

To meet Him in a rapture with a shout.

 

It may be at the midnight, black as pitch,

Earth shall cast up her poor, cast up her rich.

 

It may be at the crowing of the cock

Earth shall upheave her depth, uproot her rock.

 

For lo, the Bridegroom fetcheth home the Bride:

His Hands are Hands she knows, she knows His Side.

 

Like pure Rebekah at the appointed place,

Veiled, she unveils her face to meet His Face.

 

Like great Queen Esther in her triumphing,

She triumphs in the Presence of her King.

 

His Eyes are as a Dove’s, and she’s Dove-eyed;

He knows His lovely mirror, sister, Bride.

 

He speaks with Dove-voice of exceeding love,

And she with love-voice of an answering Dove.

 

Behold, the Bridegroom cometh: go we out

With lamps ablaze and garlands round about

To meet Him in a rapture with a shout.

Advent Calendar by Rowan Williams

He will come like last leaf’s fall.
One night when the November wind
has flayed the trees to the bone, and earth
wakes choking on the mould,
the soft shroud’s folding.

He will come like frost.
One morning when the shrinking earth
opens on mist, to find itself
arrested in the net
of alien, sword-set beauty.

He will come like dark.
One evening when the bursting red
December sun draws up the sheet
and penny-masks its eye to yield
the star-snowed fields of sky.

He will come, will come,
will come like crying in the night,
like blood, like breaking,
as the earth writhes to toss him free.
He will come like child.

Solitude, Silence, and Stillness

‘Contemplative practices are held postures of solitude, silence, and stillness. In solitude, we develop the capacity to be present. In silence, we cultivate the ability to listen. And in stillness, we acquire the skill of restraint or self-control.’

I found this quote from Phileena Heuertz useful. It draws attention to the different roles of silence, solitude, and stillness in meditative prayer. I remember  Sarah Maitland in ‘A Book of Silence’ saying that silence and solitude are for her almost indistinguishable. Meditation practice is something that most days we will be doing on our own. I can see how solitude goes hand in hand with silence.

I sense that these three elements are so interrelated that it is hard to separate them. But as we are ‘in the workshop’ we can take a look at the parts – as long as we reconnect them at the end.

In solitude, we develop the capacity to be present.

In silence, we cultivate the ability to listen.

In stillness, we acquire the skill of restraint or self-control.

I have been thinking about what these look like in both prayer times and the working day. In our weekly group, we started looking at how these three might be working for each of us.

Later in her book, Phileena develops these themes. Contemplative prayer she writes is

‘an invitation to rest, to be, and to let God be God in our life. Over time as we open ourselves to this secret* work of the Spirit, our overcrowded life relents to solitude, noise gives way to silence, and restlessness transforms to stillness – both interiorly in our soul and exteriorly in our life and vocation.’

Phileena also reminds us that in spirituality these neat schemes need to be seen as labyrinths, not straight paths. In the labyrinth, we wind our way forwards and backward as we walk towards the still center point. Arrival is also an invitation to return to where we started – hopefully with a slightly changed disposition.  We will be moving into and out of silence, solitude, and stillness.

 

*I would read ‘secret’ as ‘hidden’.

Quotes from Phileena Heuertz,  ‘Mindful Silence: The heart of Christian Contemplation.’ 2018 IVP

You can read more about Phileena’s work on her website.

Sermon on pilgrimage for the start of the new academic year

This is the text of a short reflection I gave for the first College Evensong of the new academic year. The service is sung by the students of the Imperial College Chamber Choir and took place in Holy Trinity Church, Prince Consort Road, next to the Imperial campus.

You can hear music by the Chamber Choir, including some past Evensongs on You Tube.

This new academic year has begun! Maybe for you, this is the first term of three, four, or six years of degree education– or maybe it’s the next annual cycle of this epic journey of education.

Throughout this year at College Evensong, we will be exploring the theme of pilgrimage – an intentional journey to a sacred or special place.

I know that the metaphor of ‘the journey of life’ can be overused, so I will try not to force the connections.  Pilgrimage is popular. Maybe you have done a pilgrimage journey already. Or know someone who has walked the Camino to Santiago de Compostela in Spain. I remember a conversation with a student who set off from her grandmother’s house in central France and walked for several months alone to Compostela. Later in this reflection, I will share my own Camino journey.

It might be that you have friends who have been on Haj to Mecca or visited the sacred Hindu site at Varanasi in India. Or similar journeys.

I know people that have done pilgrimage-like visits to the Camp Nou Stadium, the home of Barcelona FC as well as to Gaudi’s Sagrada Familia cathedral.

And there are musical pilgrimages to places associated with composers – to hear Sibelius among the lakes and forests of Finland or to sing in Santa Croce in Florence for example. (The Imperial Chamber Choir did this on their recent summer tour). Or to visit Jim Morrison’s grave in Paris or get a selfie with friends on a certain zebra crossing on Abbey Road.

And there are pilgrimage journeys to family homes of long ago or to the communities from where migration began generations before.

The journey in search of our meanings, our special or sacred meanings is ever present and has a long tradition.

In medieval times at the height of the pilgrimage business, there was a way of accommodating those who could not do the long journey to Jerusalem, Rome, Canterbury, or Compostela. Those who could not do the long journey could walk a labyrinth laid out in the floor tiles of the local Cathedral – Chartres, in France is a famous example. Here you could do a slow winding pilgrimage walk. Journeying slowly into a center point. Perhaps arriving there at stillness, peace, or a kind of prayerful communion. And then retracing steps and returning to everyday life. (It’s a physical version of all moves into and out of prayer).

When walking a labyrinth, the landscape around us does not change in the way that it might crossing the Pyrenees and the Spanish plain on the way to Compostela. But the inner landscape changes – the ever-present inner landscape of thoughts memories, emotions, desires, and hopes. And that inner landscape is honoured walking a labyrinth just as in an epic pilgrimage journey.

Right now, we are here in South Kensington – not on the trail walking across country in an outer journey of adventurous proportions. But the journey of this time and place is epic and formative. Like the labyrinth walker, we are invited to pay attention to what arises in our inner space – to honour it and treat it as special and sacred. This includes the long uphill slogs, the days of rain and fog as well as the great vistas and clear blue skies.

I was once walking in Normandy looking for a route to the beach. I came down a footpath onto a sunken lane with high hedges. And there on a gate post was the scallop shell sign marking one of the many Camino routes across Europe heading to Compostela. So, with delight and newfound energy, I walked the Camino to Compostela in the company of thousands of others across time! After a kilometer, I turned off towards the beach, as that was our destination that day. But a little awareness of our outer and inner journeys can have a great impact.

Travel well on your own path. Find good companions for your inner and outer journeys. As the Irish blessing says ‘May the road rise up to meet you and the wind be always at your back.’

Read, Reflect, Respond, Rest.

Here is a short pattern for doing Lectio Divina meditation or slow reading meditation. Choose a short passage from the Bible to meditate on. There is also a guided audio version you can follow on the Resource page of the Imperial Chaplaincy website.

At the start of the meditation take a moment to pray silently for the illumination of the Holy Spirit, who inspired the Scriptures.

Read
Read the passage silently to yourself. Notice where your attention is drawn while you read. Was there a particular word, phrase, or sentence that stood out for you?

Read the passage silently again. Notice where your attention is drawn this time.

Read the passage silently a third time, again noticing anything that has your interest.

Choose the word or phrase that most has your attention.

Reflect

Silently say the word or phrase that most has your attention. Watch what arises – thoughts, memories, emotions. Notice them and let them go.

Say the word again and notice what arises this time. Keep repeating.

When you find that your mind has been distracted by your thoughts, memories, or emotions, simply say say the word or phrase again, and watch what arises.

There is no need to analyse what the word means, but you might have a sense of why it got your interest today. Where does this word or phrase lead you? What memories, emotions, or ideas arise?

Respond
After a while, make silent personal prayers in response to the things arising for you when reflecting on the passage. This could include prayers for others, asking for a grace, lamenting, arguing with God, naming and owning our emotions – all of this trusting that we are loved and accepted by God just as we are.

Rest
To finish simply let go of the phrase or word and simply sit still before God. Do nothing, rest in God. If your mind wanders, notice that and gently bring your attention back to your next breath.

End the session with a short prayer of thanksgiving or say a prayer that you know by heart.

There is more background information about Lectio on Wikipedia.

The process can be used for poetry, works of art, and other types of texts.

Practices for Trinity

Trinity is the theme of the week in the Church’s annual cycle of readings.

A Trinitarian view pictures  God as community:  love in relationship flowing from the Father to the Son and the Holy Spirit.

God creates, God Redeems, God Inspires. All one process.

I offer the three practical options for a Trinity-inspired spirituality this week. Choose one that most speaks to you.

Look out for the process of love. When someone is kind to you, ponder when did that kindness begin? Who showed them how to be kind? What does that kindness do inside you? What effect will that kindness have on others through you? Will that kindness ever come to an end? 

Or you could look out for the ‘making and creating’ you are part of – objects, meals, situations, plans, or arrangements. What will these ‘makings’ change or make possible? 

Or look out for people and situations that inspire you, comfort, or guide you. How will you let these things influence what you make and how you respond?

Twelve Ways to Practice Resurrection Now

Reflections for the weekly Meditation and Silent Prayer group at Imperial College, London and the Wednesday Communion congregation at Holy Trinity Church on Prince Consort Road, SW7 2BA.

I came across this list of ‘ways to practice resurrection’ in the appendix of Richard Rohr’s ‘Immortal Diamond’. Given the title of this blog, you can guess the attraction.

Rohr offers a grounded and embodied Christian spirituality. He argues that Christianity, which claims to be an embodied incarnational faith, focuses too much on spirit and right-thinking (as opposed to right practice).

Rohr uses the ideas of ‘False Self’ and ‘True Self’ from the contemplative Thomas Merton. Merton is bringing together insights from the psychology of his time and from Christian spiritual writers.

Rohr argues that we all have ‘False Selves’ created by society and our own ideas about ourselves. Much of this comes from our roles and social identity. It is ‘False’ only in that it is not the complete or fullest picture of who we are.  Rohr argues that the journey of life is about finding our ‘True Self’ – the self that abides in the love of God. Jesus’ practice of living and dying unsettles and disturbs the ‘False Self’, showing how to live and abide in the love of God. The encounters with the Risen-Wounded-and-Forgiving Jesus transform the energy and spirit of the disciples.

Here is Richard Rohr’s Twelve Ways to Practice Resurrection Now. They are ways to live faithfully from where we are now rather than waiting for faith or God to come to us.

1.            Refuse to identify with negative, blaming, antagonistic, or fearful thoughts (you cannot stop ‘having’ them).

2.            Apologise when you hurt another person or situation.

3.            Undo your mistakes by some positive action toward the offended person or situation.

4.            Do not indulge or believe your False Self – that which is concocted by your mind and society’s expectations.

5.            Choose your True Self – your radical union with God – as often as possible throughout the day.

6.            Always seek to change yourself before trying to change others.

7.            Choose as much as possible to serve rather than to be served.

8.            Whenever possible, seek the common good over your mere private good.

9.            Give preference to those in pain, excluded, or disabled in any way.

10.          Seek justice systems and policies over mere charity.

11.          Make sure your medium is the same as your message.

12.          Never doubt that it is all about love in the end.

Celtic Prayer

In our last Christian meditation session in the Chaplaincy we explored some forms of Celtic prayer.

There are three features of prayers in this tradition that we looked at together;

  • use of imagery from the natural world and daily activities
  • the repetition of phrases and patterns in words that echo the interweaving patterns of Celtic art.
  • the way the repetition has a three-fold Trinitarian pattern.

You can see some of these features in this prayer by David Adam (see below).

If you are interested you can explore the prayers that were collected by Alexander Carmichael from people he met in Western Scotland in the late 19th century and published in 1900 as the “Carmina gadelica : hymns and incantations with illustrative notes on words, rites, and customs, dying and obsolete.” These prayers are easily accessible in this online version.

I weave a silence on to my lips

I weave a silence into my mind

I weave a silence within my heart

I close my eyes to distractions

I close my eyes to attractions

I close my heart to temptations.

Calm me, O Lord, as You stilled the storm

Still me, O Lord, keep me from harm

Let all the tumult within me cease

Enfold me, Lord, in Your peace.

From The Rhythm of Life by David Adam

How to use imagination in meditating on Scripture

This is a short guide to using imagination in a prayerful, meditative reading of Scripture. This is a method from St Ignatius, so is often described as ‘Ignatian’. Ignatius also developed the original Review meditation that you can find here. These are notes for leading this meditation that I wrote after a Seven Day Ignatian Retreat with the Chemin-Neuf Community back in 2012.

This is a way to enter more fully into the Gospels and to get to know Jesus in the depth of our being through the gift of the imagination. You can do this by taking a scene from the life of Christ and reliving it, taking part in it as if it were actually occurring and you were a participant in the event.

Before you pray, read through the passage so you are familiar with it.

Having decided on a suitable place and posture, stand or sit,  and spend a while letting God look at you or be with you.

Take time to be still.

Enter into the prayer by asking for what you feel you need: peace, understanding, to know God better, to meet Jesus. . .

Set the Gospel scene in your own imagination. Take your time, see all that is around you in the scene, hear, feel, taste and smell.

Take up a role in the scene – a character that somehow seems to fit. Who are you? Or you could be yourself there – and become part of the action.

Let the scene unfold. (Don’t worry if things don’t happen the way they are recounted in the Bible, but let the scene develop naturally.)

At the end, be with Jesus and talk to him. What does he want to say to you? What does he want to do?

When you have finished the prayer, look back over the time and ask: How did I feel? What struck me? What was Jesus like? Did anything happen that surprised me?

Review of the Day Meditation (shorter version)

Photo: Courtesy of Hogets Baerndal.

Here is a shorter version of The Review from the Spiritual Exercises of St Ignatius. It is a short and affirming way to look back on the whole range of experiences that happen each day. There is a longer version here.

Take a moment to let God look at you. Breathe in God’s love.

With your hand on your heart, ask Jesus to bring your heart the moment today for which you feel most grateful.

Recall what was said and done in the moment. Enjoy the gratitude you feel again now. Breathe in its life.

Ask Jesus to bring to your heart the moment today for which you feel least grateful.

What was said and done in that moment? Let it be. Breathe in God’s love just as you are.

Speak to God about what you have noticed.

Give thanks to God for your day.

Ask for help for tomorrow.

             

From ‘Sleeping with Bread’ by Dennis Linn, Sheila Fabricant Linn and Matthew Linn.

With thanks to Stephen Hoyland from the Jesuit Spirituality Team for sharing this form of the Review at a workshop.