I believe...

Over the centuries the Church has made confessions of faith, some of which most members of the Church sign up to and others where they have meaning only to a certain group. The churches of the Reformed tradition are very good at writing and re-writing such statements. As we find ourselves in a new time and place, some of us write a new statement of faith. But what do these statements mean? What are their purpose? These are questions that I'm beginning to ponder as I start work on my essay for my Reformed tradition paper, however, they are based in a small piece of work I had to do at the end of term: the writing of my own confession of faith.

Originally, I had no intention of publishing this on my blog. But if a confession of faith in the reformed-sense is a statement of where one is today with God or with one's understanding of God, then actually it is something that should be publishing. Especially as this blog is about my journey to ordination. So after two and half years at theological college, this is where I currently stand. Not to say this is where I will be at the point of ordination, or 10 or 20 years into ministry, for I am reformed and faith is evolutionary! But for today this my confession: 

I believe in the one, true and living God, who is creator and sustainer of all. The one in whom, through whom and for whom all has come in to being. It is, therefore, in God my faith has found its home.

I believe in the trinity of God, through which the mercy and grace of God is given to all:

The one who is the source and Jesus called Father. The parental figure of creation, even when the concept of parenthood is difficult to comprehend;

The one who is the Word made flesh—Jesus Christ. The demonstrator of what it means to truly live a holy life, and to live in unity with and in God. Who conquered death so that moments of unholy living are not deemed irredeemable;

The one who is the inspirer—the Holy Spirit. Who has the power to break open even that which is most tightly closed. Who sustains faith from its strongest to its weakest points.

I believe in the holy catholic Church that continues to live out the life of discipleship, first asked of those who Jesus physically called to follow. As the body of Christ, I recognised we are a body of many and varied members, all of whom which have an equal part to play in the glorification of God; not only today, but yesterday, and tomorrow.

God calls the world to be holy as the Godself is holy. It is through and in the trinity of God, that holiness is brought to fruition and to whom I offer praise and supplication as I strive to lead the life to which I am called. 

Glory be to God, creator and sustainer; the one who was, and is, and is to come.

Liturgy: theologically or historically-based? Discuss

I really should learn to think before I speak some days, especially when it comes to theology. I seem to have this ability to make one line statements that although there is grounding for them within my head, that grounding isn't expressed in the any shape or form in my statement, or in any supporting argument I try to cobble together afterwards. In the past few weeks, I have done this twice when in conversations regarding liturgy.

So let's take yesterday's one-liner: "None of our liturgy is theologically-based!"
Really!!! What was I thinking? Not what came out of my mouth, that's for sure! Of course there is theological basis to liturgy, if there wasn't why are we still arguing over the words that are said in the Eucharist and the meaning they express. In my dissertation I have written that within my own tradition the way we teach doctrine to the masses is primarily through our liturgy. Liturgists and hymn-writers over the centuries have wrestled with theology in an attempt to lead the people of God in worship that gives glory to God and will edify them. So why did I come out with such a throw away statement?

Someone raised the question of the 'Lord's Prayer' and why we think it is an important element to be included in our liturgy. None of us present really had an answer other than saying that it was the prayer that Jesus taught us so it must be important. But it hasn't always been there religiously in our liturgical structure and for the person who raised the question, in the church tradition they had grown up in it had never been or perceived to be an essential part of their liturgy.

My only answer is history. Now, I could be making this response because my dissertation, which just happens to focus on liturgy, is heavily weighted on the side of Church History. But as I have looked at and mapped the change in the liturgy of my own tradition since the Reformation, there have been moments during our history where we have thrown most of what we would call liturgy out of the window as we have rebelled against the establishment. It has been events that have happened in the church local, national, and universal that have driven liturgical change. I'm not discounting theology's role in this, because engagement with Scripture and theology has happen which have caused liturgical movement. But how often to we actually theologically question what is in the basic liturgical structure that many of our churches follow? How often is our response to the question "why do we say one type of prayer here and another type there", "just because-that's how we've always done it".

I am finding myself riling these days when I hear people using the response 'it's because I'm a non-conformist' to why they do or do not do something. Yes, maybe the non-conformist movement does has the feel at times like 'throwing the baby out with the bath water' because we can, but there were theological reasons behind it initially. People took time to theologically reflect on the situation before they made their response.

So I guess that is where my one-liner came from. To me there is a sense that we don't always theological think through our liturgy anymore, we just do it this way because that is how it has been done for generations. Our liturgy has become more historically-based, although it has its roots in theology, just theology that is forgotten.

So that was 2013...

As we near the dawn of 2014, I've been inspired by a friend to take a look back on the past year. It does seem like only yesterday that my niece, a very close friend and myself found ourselves in the common room of Westminster College playing 'Fleeced', but that was a whole year ago now! So what has happened between then and now?

Well lots, there have been 365 days after all! But I guess if I'm really going to reflect on the past year, maybe I should be a little more specific.

I've finished my second year of my theology degree and started my third and final year.
I've rejoiced over some of my marks and cried over others.
I continue to stare at piles of books and scratched my head wondering how I turn what I've read into an essay that answers the question posed.
I'm beginning to accept that I now think more like a theologian than an engineer; although I still like a good diagram and look for a logical and systematic approach!
I've got on a plane and travelled to foreign parts on my own! (Huge moment and was very pleased to see a friendly face when I got off the plane at my destination.)

As in many years, there have been ups and downs:
Moments when I've wondered what I'm doing there and others when I've know exactly why I'm there.
There have been days when I've wished I could have had a second attempt at them.
There has been a new addition to the family, my third nephew, who is a joy and at nine months loves to give you a wave.
I have been to new places, seen new things, as well as continued to enjoy calling Cambridge "home".
I have managed another year of not managing to visit a number of good friends, but I do think of them often and miss them a great deal.
I've made new friends, whilst other friendships appear to have sadly come to an end.

So 2013 draws to an end and a new year dawn; a year in which I will finish my degree, start my year in pastorate with another minister and start the process that will hopefully lead to a call to a pastorate and ordination! So nothing to big happening!

Words...

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me."

I wonder if the person who came up with that rhyme was trying a bit of reverse psychology on themselves in the vain attempt to deal with one of those conversations where if the words were not meant to hurt then the other person involved really made a bad choice of words. We all know that words can hurt! They are our primary means of communication and even if we don't set out to hurt someone with what we say, sometimes the words we choose convey the wrong meaning. Sure we can all interpret words differently too, and we can turn innocent sentences in to something that they are not. But words do have power, which we all have the tendency to forget at times.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hzgzim5m7oU

Of course, words don't just have the power to knock a person down and hurt them, they also have the power to build someone up, give encouragement, and even change their life. The You Tube video I've shared here struck me as an amazing example of how some very simple, but well composed words can make a huge difference.

Well chosen words...change conversations that can be misunderstood to conversations that are thought provoking;

Well chosen words... give an incentive to change rather than desire to dig one's heels in.

Well chosen words... are the difference between hurt and love.

The Church has a lot of words, some used well and others used not so well. However, in the season of Advent, the Church's thoughts are very much drawn to words, particularly 'the Word'. For it was 'the Word' coming into the world that made things happened; changed it. And it is the returning of the Word in the world that there is a longing and looking forwards to. But 'the Word' isn't just something of the past and the future, it is also in the present. For as there are words in the world, so the Word is still in the world, for it is made know through our words.

"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being." (John 1.1-3)

So remember your words and chose them with care, for today they may come to mean something more than just being a few words.

Music - something I listen to or something that accompanies me?

Those that have readily viewed my blog will possibly have spent a moment or two looking at Fred and George, who form part of my pastoral portfolio paper that I have to complete for my theology degree. They are part of my theological reflection on a placement at the local hospice, but only form a small percentage of my final submission. For alongside them I must also write a piece that is a theological reflection on an aspect of my church placement, which I undertook during the last academic year. So after a year at St Columba's what else could I reflect but music!

Now if you don't know St Columba's Church, Cambridge, then this might seem an odd conclusion, why chose music over some pastoral encounter had at the church door or over coffee? Well, music features heavily in the life of the church, which is at times a blessing whilst at other times a cause of many a headache, especially when trying to craft an act of worship. However, as I have started to read and think about how I might unpack the tensions I came across, I have started to think about my own relationship with music.

I guess I could kinda class myself as a musician, although not a proficient one, and music is a significant part of my life; the CD towers in my room are witness to this. But as I've read about composers such as Bach, Olivier Messiaen and James MacMillan today, along with the views of Schleiermacher, Barth and Bonhoeffer, I've begun to wonder what place music does have in my life. When do I actually sit and listen to music?

As I am writing this, there is music playing, but am I really listening to it or is just accompanying what I am doing? Am I really hearing what the composer and the performers are trying to say through the notation they are causing to resonant out of my speakers? If I'm honest, most of the time the music that resounds around me is a companion. For me to sit and listen without any distraction is rare, especially when it comes to purely instrumental music. And maybe that is why, when my full attention is given to some piece of music, I sometimes find myself slightly disturbed by what I hear, particularly when we get to the eclectic tones of 20th century music. When there are only musical notes and no words, I have to look within the music for something that I wouldn't have to look for if it were a song. I don't have this problem when I'm actually playing the music, maybe because I'm too busy trying to remember the key signature or count so that the rhythm is kinda right; but in playing music I find it easier for the music to become a part of me, because the music is as much about me as the notes on the page. Where when I'm listening, I have to let the music in, I have to let the music take hold of me, as I do when I playing a piece I know well. But just maybe that's what needs to happen; the eclectic tones may then not be so eclectic, and the mystery that they are trying to protray no longer such a mystery. Maybe if I do spend some time actually listening, I'll hear something life changing!

Although it will never stop be a companion!

Praying?

When I started at Westminster I was struck by how often we prayed. We prayed in the morning, we prayed at a lunchtime, we prayed at the start of every class and occasionally we prayed as the day drew to an end. But in the last couple of days I've had two questions asked of me:

1. Have you got anyone praying for you?
2. When do you talk about/get taught about spirituality in college?

And then I looked around me... now we sort of pray in the morning, we still occasionally pray as the day draws to a close, but we are not currently praying at a lunchtime and none of my classes have started with pray so far this term.

Now, prayer and spirituality are not things I find easy or am at times particularly comfortable with. Part of that is my tradition, part of it is where I have been on my journey with God.  However, I see what people are saying: where is the prayer and through what do we come to understanding of our spirituality? Maybe what some would call spirituality, I don't recognise as spirituality. Maybe in what I do on a daily basis is where I learn about spirituality. Maybe spirituality is another one of those fuzzy theological terms that is so hard to define that it is even harder to sit and talk about it specifically. And prayer... well that can be in everything we do, so it doesn't especially mean we have to get down on our knees. But sometimes maybe we do need to get down on our knees!

Now as I have discovered, I fall into the Generation Y group, where spirituality is not a term I may ever truly get my head around. But on the other hand, prayer is something I do get. And if the events of the past week have taught me anything, they've taught me that it is time to get back to the praying.

So my challenge is to pray more, however hard or easy I find it on a daily basis. It is also time to ask others to pray: to pray for the joys and struggles that I face as an ordinand on a daily basis and to pray for a theological college and community, which many hold dearly in their hearts, which faces changing and challenging times.

Another 'new' home

I am once again packing my life into boxes, to then unpack them in a new room. Luckily, this time I'm only moving from one wing of Westminster College to another wing, but it is still a task which is far from fun. However, as I sit in my new room I am struck how 'at home' I already feel.

The importance of feeling ‘at home’ has been an issue that has again raised its head for me over the last few weeks. In conversations I have had with new students, I have been reminded of the struggles I had during my first term at Westminster. The struggles of where was home and how do I, if I have to, make this place home. The importance of ‘home’ is one of the reason why I chose to remain in the college grounds with the builders, rather than move out to rented accommodation else where in Cambridge. Westminster has become ‘home’, and ‘home’ is a stability that I find I need when the rest of my world is in chaos. If I know where home is and know I can get back there easily, then I know I can get through everything else. Maybe this seems a bit strange coming from a person who has led a fairly nomadic life and who will continue to live such a life. In my 32½ years, I have lived in six cities on a permanent basis and have had prolonged stays in at least two others. I have already moved house more times than the national average for the lifetime of a Briton! Therefore, home you would not think is something I would find important. But it is, and maybe even more so than for a person has lived in the same place their whole lives. I don’t really have a hometown—I have a town I was born in, because for the time I live somewhere, however long that might be, that place becomes my hometown. It becomes the place where when I get of the train I say, "I’m home". And when I move on, the transition is never an easy one—but what makes it slightly easier is God. In faith I have moved, particularly in most recently years when I have controlled where I live, and through faith I have a spiritual home—a home that goes with me wherever I am and gives me sanctuary from the tumultuous storms of life.

So from my ‘new’ home to you in your home
may God continue to bless the places we call home.