There is no doubt that what the evidence urges upon us is a reform of the ministerial structure and of the pastoral machinery of the Church… Though the difficulties stare us in the face, the alternatives are chilling— to do nothing, which means to abandon the nation to its religious decline and the clergy to their isolation, or to attempt a few piecemeal reforms which may save face but leave the central missionary problem to the conurbations unresolved. The crux of the whole problem… seem to me this— though short of manpower the Church cannot use the clergy it has effectively as it ought to: it is a bad steward. It needs more clergy, but it has no moral right to ask for them unless it can deploy them effectively. … At the same time it does not want a harassed, servile, or timid clergy as the price of reorganisation: as a profession the clergy needs to be raised in standards and stature, not lowered.

Any guess as to author and date?

• Leslie Paul (a professional sociologist)
• January 1964.¹

So the question occurs to me, will someone wake me up when we get there?

1. Leslie A. Paul, The Deployment and Payment of the Clergy (Westminster: Church Information Office for the Central Advisory Council for the Ministry, 1964), p. 171. [↩]

The new issue of Private Eye is out, with the usual incisive examination of the publishing world, published under “Literary Review” (pp. 26-27). There we find a curious bottom-of-the-column filler, “How bestsellers are made”:

Take one chunky Victorian thriller. Add a mysterious gent in long coat and top hat with his back turned to the reader. Add a generous drizzle of sepia. And voilà — three of this summer’s top-selling beach reads. Are their designers by any chance related?

A good point, well made, and with  interesting cultural and social implications. Almost as interesting and well-made when 3 Minute Theologian considered the same phenomenon in January 2009 under the title “Literature and Lone Wolf“.

As Private Eye usually asks: “I have just noticed the resemblance between … and wonder if by any chance they are related?”

This Sunday, 19 September, I have been invited to be preacher at the world-famous (!) Horseman’s Sunday service held at St John’s, Hyde Park. The service celebrates horse-riding in London, when horses of all shapes and sizes “gather on the forecourt of the church for a blessing, followed by a ride-past and a presentation of rosettes”. This year there will be a non-horse-riding clergyman, of all shapes and sizes, giving the address.

Who is the patron saint of horsemen, and how can I get him to pray for me with this late notice?

I have been invited to be the keynote speaker for the biennial clergy conference for the Episcopal Diocese of North Carolina, by their diocesan, Bishop Michael B. Curry. I will be speaking to the clergy of the diocese, in Winston-Salem, from 12 – 14 October.

The invitation was extended to me on the basis of my book, If You Meet George Herbert on the Road, Kill Him: Radically Re-thinking Priestly Ministry (published by Continuum last year and recently reprinted). I will be giving three addresses and preaching the sermon for the conference eucharist.

You can see a discussion between the bishop and myself about what we hope to achieve in the conference with the YouTube video below:

The diocese’s notice about the conference is here.

Today is the feast of Holy Cross, commemorating the “Invention” of the Cross by the Empress Helena in Jerusalem in AD 335 (the feast marks the anniversary of the dedication of the basilica built to house the true relic of the cross).

Usually preachers will, and I’ve done it myself, will concentrate on the meaning of the lections set for the day: the poisonous serpent of Numbers 21.4-9; the humbling and exalting of Christ in Philippians 2.6-11; the Stainer’s Crucifixion of John 3.13-17. All good and necessary things to set in front of the people of God on this day and every day of our pilgrimage.

But today I’m thinking of something slightly different. Perhaps because today is also the Opening Service for the branch of the Mothers’ Union which meets in St Stephen’s Church, the MU being “an international Christian charity that seeks to support families worldwide”, I wondered about the other event which took place on the cross:

Meanwhile, standing near the cross of Jesus were his mother, and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing beside her, he said to his mother, ‘Woman, here is your son.’ Then he said to the disciple, ‘Here is your mother.’ And from that hour the disciple took her into his own home. [John 19:25-27]

Christ’s agony in Calvary, his exaltation on a cross, also marked the beginning of a new kind of family, a non-nuclear family, a family which cut across both the ancient near east’s ideas of kinship and tribe, and the modern world’s ideas of blood relations and romantic love. John and Mary were to become a new family, and a new model of what family could be. This new family was born in both grief and endurance: grief at the pain seen in Jesus’s death agonies, and endurance in being strong enough to remain standing at the foot of the cross.

There is an example for those of us who adhere to the ecclesial community, the “family of the church”. Perhaps we should date the foundation of the Church not to Peter’s sermon on the day of Pentecost, when the tribes of the world heard the promise of the resurrection, and the ministry was a great success, but rather to Good Friday afternoon, when the ministry and promise of Christ failed under the weight of military, political and religious oppression? Perhaps the Church came into being in grief and endurance? Perhaps we should think of ourselves as a new kind of family, one which overturns the expectations of the world, and one which can only be understood when looking at the world from the point of view of the crucified Messiah?

Last week I spent some time in that little piece of heaven on earth gifted to us by William Gladstone, St Deiniol’s Library in Hawarden, North Wales. I was there to read, mooch, drink beer and tell jokes with friends, but also to teach a four day course on the perils of Herbertism and the solutions of the KGH approach to parish ministry.

There were fifteen on the course, all but one clergy (and the lay person was a churchwarden, who sportingly described himself as the “twelfth man”). The length of licensed ministry varied from thirty-four to three years. It was, of course, a self-selecting group: you don’t attend a course called If You Meet George Herbert on the Road, Kill Him: Radically Re-thinking Priestly Ministry unless you think that your priestly ministry needs radical rethinking. Even so, it was striking how many of the experiences, frustrations, rewards and assumptions that emerged during the writing of my book were reflected in the ministries of these varied priests (C of E, Church in Wales, and Episcopal Church of the US).

On the first evening I asked everyone to think of the one thing that was missing from their lives that would make all the difference to them. Up came:

Space & Time

It was clear as our discussions developed that “space and time” were being treated as the carrot of ministry: when you get all your work done, if you managed to complete the paperwork, when you have fulfilled the work-quota, if you have contented the internal and external drivers of your life, then you will be rewarded with some “space and time”. You will have a little bit of time to yourself.

As the discussions developed it became clear to me, in my own mind as well as in the minds of those on the course, how powerfully this “lollipop for the vicar” model was embedded in our lives. And how wrong it is.

Space and Time are NOT the reward for getting your priestly ministry done: they are the necessities for getting your priestly ministry done. Without space and time priestly ministry is impossible to undertake, in any kind of healthy, sustainable, joyful and fulfilling way¹. Space and time is the fuel for ministry, or rather, and more accurately, it is the way in which the individual minister co-operates with God in allowing the Holy Spirit to become part, the controlling part, of his/her ministry. Space and time denies the persistent heresy that ministry is down to us: as Hans Küng put it:

The opus operatum [the work done] is not an opus operatum ministri [work done through the ministry], but an opus operatum of Jesus Christ.²

Allowing ourselves space and time forces us to accept the fact that it isn’t down to us to build God’s Church, to fulfil His quotas, to save God’s people. It is the work of the Holy Spirit unleashed by the saving ministry of Christ.

“Space and Time” is what an earlier (healthier?) ecclesiology called contemplation. The minister of the Gospel needs to be in the presence of God, and to prevent pride, to remind him/herself that they are in the presence of God³.

This is what the Angelic Doctor, Thomas Aquinas, was getting at when he described the purpose of the Christian vocation:

Contemplari et contemplata aliis tradere.
“contemplate and give to others the fruits of your contemplation”⁴

Contemplation is not something that can be done in 6 minute bursts. There is no such thing as “power-contemplation”, or “multi-tasking meditation”. It requires time and space to achieve (or, rather, and more accurately again, it requires time and space to allow ourselves to get out of the way in order for the fruits of the Holy Spirit at work within us to grow).

Mark Yaconelli, who comes from a tradition very different from the Dominican scholar, also puts it this way:

In the Christian community there is a [deep] block: we no longer know how to be with God. In the church we love to debate God, defend God, protect or promote God. We talk to God, praise God, and even serve God. The one thing for we have little time or patience is actually spending time with God. If you’re a pastor in a church, one sure way to get fired is to set aside ten minutes of silence during a worship service for people just to ‘be’ with God. Try this a few times and soon the church leadership will be inviting you to ‘be’ somewhere else.⁵

Which is understandable, because from the outside ‘being’ with God looks like the most unproductive thing in the world. Nothing is happening. No one is being spoken to, cared for, built up. No projects are being actioned, moved on. Nothing is developing. It’s just a person in a room being quiet.

As I said in Kill George :

But sometimes what is seen as ‘waste of time’ is actually fallow ground becoming fruitful.

I’ll say it again. Space and Time are not the reward for the effective parish priest. Space and Time are the means for a parish priest to be a faithful parish priest. Space and Time are the means by which that ministry is built up. To attempt to do otherwise is to submit oneself to the employment practices of Pharaoh, where bricks are to be made without straw, as a punishment for being lazy.

If you feel that this is regime under which you labour, whether the Pharaoh is internal or external, remember that bricks need straw, and ministry needs contemplation, and fruits are made to be grown and shared in the richness of space and time ‘wasted’ in the presence of God.

1. And I’m not talking about the rewards of personal fulfilment here. I speaking of the fulfilment that comes through experiencing the fruits of the Spirit in your life and ministry. If being “poured out” and “completing the race” was OK for Paul, then it’s OK for his successors. [↩]
2. Hans Küng, Structures of the Church, (London: Burns & Oates, 1965), p. 165-166 [↩]
3. to prevent the mistake that any “successes” you may experience are down to you and your efforts: this is what Article XI of the 39 Articles is warning us against! [↩]
4. Often said to derive from Summa Theologica II.II q.188 a.6. [↩]
5. Mark Yaconelli, Contemplative Youth Ministry: Practicing the Presence of Jesus with Young People, (London, SPCK; 2006), p. 3. [↩]

It’s amazing how many different and varied ways Christians have found to monetize their faith, flogging bits and pieces necessary to be a happy, fulfilled and righteous Christian to other unhappy, unfulfilled and slightly wealthier Christians. I am not talking about indulgences or saints’ relics here. I mean the bookshops, tatshops, “resource areas” that accompany any gathering of Christians larger than a single congregation. Conference invites speaker, speaker gives talk, conference points audience to bookshop, speaker flogs wares.

WHAT A GREAT IDEA!

This is where 3 Minute Theologian has been missing out.

So I am pleased to announce, with the co-operation of CafePress.com (that fine purveyor of design-your-own drinkware and wear-wares), the world’s first OFFICIAL Kill George Herbert merchandising opportunity solution.

Gasp! at the generously proportioned beverage mug!

Be amazed! at the sophisticate design and elegantly proportioned T-Shirt!

Er! That’s it! (for the moment)

Both T-Shirt and Mug are emblazoned with a WWGHD? graphic to display your allegiance to all things post-Herbertian.

• Imagine the insightful and advantageous conversations that will strike up with the Senior Staff at your next Clergy Conference when they see you declaring your thoughtful and frankly gorgeous allegiance to the Blessed George.
• Imagine the opportunities to tell the postman that no, he wasn’t just a hymn writer, as you come to the door in your pyjama bottoms and Tee!
• Think of the 200 clergy in your diocese and 300 clergy in your hotmail contacts list, each of whom deserve to be introduced to the wonders of WWGHD? Buy a mug and T-shirt for each!

Coming soon!

• WWGHD maniples!
• WWGHD embossed covers for Common Worship!
• WWGHD USB sticks!
• WWGHD rubber bracelets!
• More! More! More! Buy! Buy! Buy!

I will be at that little piece of heaven on earth, St Deiniol’s Library, Hawarden, this coming week, leading a course on Kill George. Details at the St Deiniol’s website.

If you are in the UK and haven’t already discovered St Deiniol’s, then why not? The national memorial for William Gladstone, it is the UK’s only residential library, with an amazingly comprehensive collection of history, theology, political economics and Victorian studies: “the most important research library and collection in Wales after the National Library of Wales in Aberystwyth.” The food is great, the accommodation is first rate, and the ambience is sublime. Plus, this week only, you get added Kill George for free (once you’ve paid the conference fee!)

It would seem appropriate to offer an attention deficit reflection on the biggest attention deficit Christian festival in the country. So, what did I make of GB10?

Remember to set aside the momentary panic that comes with arriving at GB. The search for a pitch for the tent; receiving the programme, and panicking about “what to see, what to do, when to do, what will I miss, is it all going to overwhelm me?” This too will pass. Brother Lawrence should be the patron saint of GB, or at least, the patron saint of arriving- the sacrament of the present moment is the only thing that will get you through Friday afternoon.

Friends: old, new and unexpected. This is the most important part of the GB experience. Eventually I fall into a rhythm: event, one hour off with friends, event, and so on. That’s how it should be.

Specific events and impressions:

Stanley Hauerwas is a lot ruder (and funnier!) in person than you can possibly imagine from even his most polemical writing. However, the format of reading from his memoirs didn’t really work; there was too much I wanted to digress from (what are the implications of that throwaway remark?), or needed more context (who is Fred?).

However, the evening session on “America’s God” was a remarkable presentation, critiquing the fascination (unquestioned) by most Americans that “civil religion” is the apotheosis of Christianity and civilization (especially on a weekend in which Glenn Beck was committing all kinds of heresy). Some apercus: “the American middle class is the best bought off peasantry in history”; there is a difference between saying curse words and using curse words; the English are the most uncivil people in the world (but in a good) way; the bishops of the Church of England are more interested in protecting their privileges than condemning the evils of nuclear weapons (one suffragan bishop squirmed in his seat at that one).

Cole Moreton (“award winning journalist” for The Guardian) was especially disappointing. His jaunty, inaccurate, broad-brush and incoherent history of the spiritual and religious life of Britain over the last twenty years was, and this is a technical word, rubbish. He wanted to hand major spiritual shifts on the passing of “minor” pieces of legislation (never making it clear whether the legislation was cause or symptom of said shift). So, for example, when the government changed Sunday trading laws, the Church of England surrendered its moral authority by investing in retail parks, including the Metro Centre. Why should we take any notice of what they say in future? At the same time, in the next paragraph, when the government loosed the country from the Church’s dead-hand monopoly on weddings (silly me! I thought that had happened in 1753 and 1948!), the Church of England refused to capitulate to the consumerist mood which was unleashed, by insisting that people attended church to hear their banns being called, and refusing to allow confetti in the churchyard, whereas the hotel down the road allows you everything you want, and gives you a glass of champagne to boot.

Which is it Cole? The Church follows the mood of the age (shopping centres) or the Church refuses to follow the mood of the age (weddings)? Or would you prefer to criticise for both approaches? I am always grateful when journalists write about religion: it makes me aware of how many half-truths are being peddled in the economics, sport, politics and international sections of the paper as well. (There was also a number of snidey “Unlike the Church of England, I belong to a church which actually believes something…” questions.)

Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove: if you attended his talk on “does God want you to be rich?” expecting the answer “yes”, you would be disappointed. But not with the content and delivery of his talk, which, beginning with teaching an Anglo audience how to sing spirituals unaccompanied (“clap on 2 & 4 not 1 & 3), and going through the most touching and provoking stories, won the prize for “talk most likely to challenge my complacency” at GB10.

Giles Fraser on the Church of England and the English Civil War. There are some films which are made with such brio and panache that you are willing to overlook the plot holes. There are some films which, although tightly plotted, are made in such a lumbering, repetitive and unbelievable manner. Fraser’s talk combined the worst of both worlds: it was repetitious in its delivery, with digressions and cul-de-sacs where he obviously had just thought of something and wanted to shoehorn in it (John Locke sat next to Christopher Wren at school? Who knew?); it was fatally flawed in its analysis of the Restoration Church of England as the “peace treaty” for the long wars of religion from Henry VIII onwards— if the Restoration Church and the Book of Common Prayer was a peace treaty, it acted as the Versailles Treaty of peace treaties. It was victor’s justice, imposed with an iron hand, and crushing social and legal conformity. If it was a peace treaty, then why was it accompanied by Test Acts, Five Mile Acts, and Conformity Acts, and why do the non-conformist churches in England all date their founding from the reign of Charles II? (and it is no excuse to complain about the closed shop of the Guild of Historians, as Fraser did, either. History is interpretation, but it is based upon a number of agreed facts. Interpretation doesn’t trump reality). I have to say that the the audience loved what he had to say. I, on the other hand, think the talk might be worth listening to when Fraser finishes it.

All in all, GB10 was another excellent festival. The combination of intellectual stimulation and musical happenstance (which I haven’t even mentioned, but Megson and the Fancy Toys both deserve to be much more widely known), and the continual running into friends makes Greenbelt the oasis of the year, and water for a thirsty soul.

… will the same happen in the parish church?