Author: svbenefice

November 5th approaches but Bonfire night with the burning of the Guy seems to vanished from popular culture. Some were always uncomfortable with what they imagined lay behind this, the burning alive of individuals, and sadly churches of all denominations once eagerly embraced this practice. There is a fine line between zeal and fanaticism; it has always been easy for some to delude themselves that they are doing the work of God, not committing murder. To some however, the zeal of those who were the victims of the burners also seems uncomfortable. The journalist and vice president of Humanists UK, Polly Toynbee, has described martyrdom as a “repugnant virtue”. There are individuals who seem to relish confrontation over issues that could probably be resolved more easily by talking; I have dealt with a few of those myself. But there are cases where evil needs to be named and confronted and this can be costly. On a recent trip to London, I was able to view the statues at the front of Westminster Abbey; twelve martyrs of the 20^th century who fell opposing dictators in the name of their faith. There is line from those going all the way back to Stephen, the first Christian martyr, who refused to compromise on what he believed to be true and so was sacrificed to a mob. These are not individuals practicing a “repugnant virtue”, they are people who recognised that sometimes truth was worth more than their own lives.

Rev David Poyner

Last Saturday I was at Chetton village hall for a concert by an Irish duo who go by the name of “Hooded Crow”. The hall was full, the music good, the company even better. This wasn’t a church service, I have no idea how many of the people who came would consider themselves to be Christian or even religious, but that does not keep God out. By a coincidence, the priest and poet/performer, Malcolm Guite, wrote a short piece in the Church Times along this theme. It was written after a colleague encouraged him to remember St Francis at one of his performances; the Rev Guite is a Franciscan and the poem is called “St Francis drops in on My Gig”.

I didn’t think I’d find you in this place

I guess you must have slipped in at the back

I’m lifting my guitar out of its case

But seeing you I nearly put it back!

You smile and say that it’s your local too,

You know the ins and outs of inns like this,

The people here have hidden wounds like you,

And you have bidden them to hidden bliss.

‘Francis I’ve only straggled after you,

I’ve never really caught your melody,

The joy you bring when every note rings true…’

But you just laugh and say ‘play one for me!’

This one’s for you then, on the road once more,

The first, the last, the hard-core troubadour.

(St. Francis drops in on my gig! | Malcolm Guite (wordpress.com))

Rev David Poyner

David Tennant, the former Dr Who actor, is putting on a new performance of Macbeth, in which every member of the audience will have earphones so they listen to even the quietest whispers from the actors. He has spoken of how this will help with the famous scene where Macbeth is confronted by witches who tell of his fate. He feels this is very difficult to stage successfully for modern audiences, with little or no belief in the supernatural. I am not entirely convinced that this is the case, but it is certainly true that there is less recognition of anything beyond ourselves in modern society. His solution is for the witches never to appear on stage at all; the audience will simply hear voices and left to work out for themselves the reality of what they are hearing.  At that point, I began to warm to the idea. Many years ago, a hymn writer described the call of God as the “still small voice of calm”, picking up episode describing the experience of the prophet Elijah in the Old Testament. Equally, I wonder what voices those who do evil think they hear? Perhaps the play is onto something important is dramatising the inner voice?

Rev David Poyner

In a few days, we will mark the 1^st anniversary of the 7^th October attack on Israeli civilians, the taking of the hostages and so to our present situation with over 40,000 killed in Gaza and now a war in Lebanon. A few months ago, I brought to this column the words of the Anglican Archdeacon of Jerusalem, when asked if he had any hope. He replied that in the city that witnessed the resurrection, there was always hope; it was harder to be optimistic. Those words came back to me a few days ago, when the lectionary featured Psalm 87. The second half of this psalm is as follows;

“I will mention Egypt and Babylon among those who know Me – along with Philistia, Tyre, and Ethiopia – when I say, ‘This one was born in Zion.’ ”

And it will be said of Zion: “This one and that one were born in her, and the Most High Himself will establish her.”

The LORD will record in the register of the peoples: “This one was born in Zion.”

Singers and pipers will proclaim, “All my springs of joy are in You.”

The Old Testament is sometimes portrayed as the record of vengeful God who revels in smitings. However, as this psalm shows, there is another side, as the writer recognises how the God of Israel is also the God of all peoples. Perhaps this gives some more grounds for hope as this anniversary comes upon us.

Rev David Poyner

This week I will be travelling to Cambridge, to conduct the funeral of Ian, my former head of department; a man who I first met 40 years ago when he taught me as an undergraduate. I am doing the service because Ian has been tremendously influential; he was one of the people who showed me how to behave as a scientist. 

Role models are very important to all of us, in the way they influence us, hopefully for the good. However, it is not just those we have known for a lifetime that can be influential; apparently trivial acts can also be important. This morning, I was delivering leaflets advertising services at Billingsley and Glazeley for the coming month. I stopped at one house, exchange a brief greeting with the owner and then got back into my car to drive on. However, he came running after me and stopped me. In his hand was a £20 note, which I had dropped after my last visit a month ago; I hadn’t noticed until he reminded me. I spent the rest of the day pondering this small act of kindness. Just as Ian has influenced me over 40 years, this also has reminded me of how I should behave in my dealings with others. Small acts can make a difference.

Rev David Poyner

Vicars tend to see a lot of death; it is not too much of an exaggeration to say that we bury people for a living. And if you ply us with enough alcohol, we will usually admit we have only a limited number of funeral sermons; we (hopefully) personalise them, but the theme is usually drawn from the same small pool. However, a couple of weeks ago I read an obituary of the former Bishop of Birmingham, Mark Santer. He requested a quotation from St Augustine on death that I had not previously come across. I will now be adding it to my themes for funeral sermons.

“There we shall rest and we shall see; we shall see and we shall love; we shall love and we shall praise. That is what shall be in the end without end. For what is our end but to arrive at the kingdom which has no end?”

Rev David Poyner

This weekend sees the Ride and Stride, the main fund-raising event for the Shropshire Historic Churches Trust, that provides grants for the repair of the old churches and chapels within the county; we get no money for this from the state or the diocese. Some see our old churches as a barrier to mission; we spend energy preserving stone and mortar that would be better spent proclaiming the Gospel. I disagree; we underestimate the power of God to work through a sacred space to our peril, to our folly. This is an extract from the poem “Little Gidding” by T.S. Elliot, as he reacts to the ancient church and shrine at Little Gidding in Cambridgeshire, a place hallowed by devotion.

If you came this way,
Taking any route, starting from anywhere,
At any time or at any season,
It would always be the same: you would have to put off
Sense and notion. You are not here to verify,
Instruct yourself, or inform curiosity
Or carry report. You are here to kneel
Where prayer has been valid. And prayer is more
Than an order of words, the conscious occupation
Of the praying mind, or the sound of the voice praying.
And what the dead had no speech for, when living,
They can tell you, being dead: the communication
Of the dead is tongued with fire beyond the language of the living.
Here, the intersection of the timeless moment
Is England and nowhere. Never and always.

Rev David Poyner

Some may know of the magazine, “The Big Issue”. It was launched over 25 years ago as a way of helping the homeless. The people who sell the magazine are usually homeless, or at least living in hostels. They buy the magazine for £2 and sell it for £4, so this gives them a small income. They effectively have their own income. I pass through Snow Hill Station on my way to work, where there is often a vendor. If I have time, I will usually buy a magazine and over the years I’ve come to know some of the vendors. Earlier this week, I had a few minutes to chat to the current vendor. He was telling me of his experiences. His best customers were often the ones who seemed to have the lowest paid jobs; the more affluent tended just to walk past him. He said this had also been his experience when living rough; the street-dwellers usually looked after each other and some were very generous with what little money they had.

I have no idea if the vendor has any religious faith, but his story struck a cord with me. Two thousand years ago, Jesus, visiting the temple, observed people donating money for its upkeep. The rich apparently gave large amounts, but in reality it was just small change for them. A poor widow gave a single coin, but that was all she had. Jesus’s words still seem to apply: “I say to you, this poor widow put in more than all the other contributors to the treasury. For they have all contributed from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, has contributed all she had, her whole livelihood”

Rev David Poyner

I do not like having to admit be ignorant about a topic; so much better to have knowledge! However, in a new series on Radio 4, the former politician Rory Stewart extols the virtue of ignorance, or at least the awareness that we are ignorant about a topic (BBC Sounds – Rory Stewart: The Long History of… – Available Episodes). I haven’t actually heard any of this series, apart from a brief trailer, but that itself made me think about the topic. As humans, we are all curious to know more; another way of looking at this is that our search for knowledge and understanding only begins when we first realise our ignorance about a topic. An admission of ignorance does not necessarily mean that we wish to research a topic for ourselves, but at best it can lead to humility and a willingness to listen to others who do know about it.

Recognition of our ignorance is important for shaping many aspects of our lives. A wise politician will know when they need to take advice because they are dealing with an issue they do not understand. As a scientist, my daily work is driven by curiosity; I see something I about which I am ignorant and want to find out more. My spirituality is also shaped by my recognition of my own ignorance about that what I call God. St Anslem in the Middle Ages famously spoke of “faith seeking understanding”, a phrase that speaks to me about who I am. I am ignorant; Lord, direct my ignorance.

Rev David Poyner

Yes, I know that is a misquote; Simon and Garfunkel actually sang that it was silence like a cancer grows. But sometimes misquotes can be inspired and I modestly claim this as an example.

There seems to be a lot of anger around. Sometimes we see it burst into the public arena; I suspect a lot of the rioting of a few weeks ago was down to anger of people who thought they were not being given the attention they deserved. I also see anger in individuals; an emotion that is eating and embittering them. Anger can be a positive emotion, if it is justified by a moral wrong; it can energise individuals and communities to work for a better world. But where it is rooted in self-indulgence and self-centredness it is destructive, ultimately of the person in whom it originates.

There are perhaps two antidotes to destructive anger. Firstly, a greater self-awareness by individuals, a recognition that they are part of a bigger picture and others matter. Also, we all need hope that the present is not the final word and that we can achieve something better, no matter how hard that might be. That might just turn the cancer of destructive anger into something that is constructive.

Rev David Poyner