Category: Thought for the Week

This week has seen elections in the USA. What happens in the USA matters for us and indeed for the rest of the world. In those elections, the people of the United States effectively sacked their current government and brought in a new one. It was not a presidential election so it was not full regime change, but it went a long way to that. And it was entirely peaceful. Meanwhile, in countries in Europe their are riots and violence but regime change can only come in elections, hopefully peaceful. On Thursday, Guy Fawkes Day, the presenter of Thought for the Day, Rhidian Brook spoke about the way the 5^th of November started as thanksgiving that a plot to overthrow the legal government by violence was foiled. Of course, there were also elements of outrage against persecution of Roman Catholics in the plot, but it remained an act of attempted murder. The Bible does not endorse any one form of government and the Old Testament is full of stories of violent regime change. But in the Christian era that has followed, a consensus has formed that democracy, with peaceful elections (and peaceful protests) is the way Godly government should work. And sometimes, as the coming week will remind us, it may even be appropriate to fight to maintain that, with a war being the lesser of two evils.

Rev David Poyner

A few days ago, a friend of mine died. We had known each other for thirty years but it would be wrong to say that we were close friends. However, I enjoyed his company whenever we met. He had an impish sense of humour, he did not take himself seriously and he knew how to tell a brilliant story; I always felt better for meeting him. I knew he was ill with a life-limiting condition; at the end, events moved quicker than I imagined they would but I am sure this was for the best. I am of course a vicar; whilst I cannot truthfully say that I bury people for a living, I do see a lot of death, so perhaps it might be expected I would be used to it. But I found myself grieving for my friend more deeply than I expected; neither experience nor faith can grief-proof you. I am actually glad of this; in the Old Testament, the prophet Ezekiel talks about the importance of having a heart of flesh, not of stone. Without that, we lose a precious part of our humanity. Grief, in proportion, is good.

Rev David Poyner

The Book of Genesis gives a mythical account of the origin of different languages. According to this, humanity originally spoke only a single language. The people decided to settle in just one place and built a city with a great tower, the Tower of Babel pointing heavenwards. However God was not pleased; he thought humanity was becoming too powerful. So he scattered the people on the earth and gave different languages so they would not understand each other. I thought of this story during a recent trip to Wales; on a boat with twelve other people, ten were native Welsh-speakers and so were chatting to each other in Welsh. Indeed, why not? I had chosen to visit a Welsh-speaking area and so this was no different from being in Italy and finding the people around me were speaking Italian. And yet, if I am honest, I did feel excluded; I wanted to share in their banter. I felt the curse of the Babel myth. But, I enjoy visiting Wales because of its culture; the handful of words I know allow me (sometimes) to translate the place names; on a good day to appreciate the rhythm of Welsh poetry even if I need an English translation to understand it. It is possible to read the Babel myth in a different light; that it was not good for humanity to settle in just one place and to speak in just one way as that would constrain our imaginations and, ultimately our potential. Languages evolve out of places and landscapes and enrich us. Perhaps the Babel myth ultimately is about a blessing, not a curse.

Rev David Poyner

Regular readers may recall that last week, a year after retiring, I returned to my former place of work for the retirement of a colleague. I enjoyed the event because it allowed me to meet up with my former colleagues. So often, the way we feel about work is determined not so much by the job itself but by the people who work alongside us. I have been fortunate that, for the most part, I have always got on well with the people I work with. It is that shared comradeship that keeps us all going when things become difficult; we support those around us just as they support us. One of Jesus’s most difficult parables is that of a dishonest steward. The senior steward, what today we might call the farm manager, learns he is about to be dismissed by his employer. He promptly goes round all the people who owe his employer money, reducing the amount they need to pay, so they in turn might help him when he loses his job. The employer finds out, but praises the man for his shrewdness. It has been suggested that at least in part, Jesus told this parable to show the importance of cultivating friends; human capital always wins over money in the bank.

Rev David Poyner

Today I am off to Aston University for a retirement party for a colleague I have known for over 30 years. I feel I am particularly well-placed to advise her, as I retired from the university almost exactly a year ago. At least, I retired from paid employment. I still continue to do my research; earlier this week I sent off a paper for publication about our latest findings. Once a year I lead a session for undergraduate pharmacists and nurses on the spiritual care of their patients. Then there is the work I do as a volunteer vicar for the church; I have not taken on any new responsibilities but I have more time to do this job to my satisfaction. I am also the conservation officer for the Shropshire Caving and Mining Club. In short, I work just as much as I did when I was a salaried employee of Aston University, it just that it is unpaid and more diverse. I do this because I enjoy it, I find it fulfilling and the alternative seems unthinkable. The Judaeo-Christian tradition has always recognised the value of work; in the creation poems in Genesis, the authors make it clear that humanity should work to tend the earth. In the New Testament, St Paul encouraged all Christians to find employment so that they did not become burdens on others. Thus there are both spiritual and economic reasons for us to work. Unfortunately not all work is fulfilling, either spiritually/mentally or financially and it is right to be concerned about this. But the aspiration must be that of the poet and hymn writer, George Herbert, who famously wrote “Teach me my God and King, in all things thee to see; that what I do in anything, I do it as for thee”.

Rev David Poyner

A few weeks ago, I had a couple of uneasy encounters with people who were disillusioned with church. The incidents were nothing to do with the local church and nothing I had any influence over. I simply had to listen as they vented their frustration. I tried to explain where I could, but mainly I was just silent as they spoke; there didn’t seem to be very much I could say. Quite possibly I did not do a very good job but I have had similar experiences before. There are times in life when all you can do is listen and take the flak from people who may well have legitimate concerns about things that are not directly your fault. Christianity has a lot to say about love and being a good neighbour. Sometimes that means listening and absorbing what may be legitimate anger and trying, as best we, returning it not with self-defence or justification but, as best as we are able, empathy.

Rev David Poyner

Earlier this week, I had a couple of days in North Wales, just outside Aberdaron on the Lleyn Peninsula. There I achieved a long-standing ambition; I took a boat to spend a day on Bardsey Island, off the tip of the peninsula. Bardsey has long been known as a Holy Island; tradition has it that a monastery was established there in the 6^th century by St Cadfan, a refugee from Brittainy. In turn, the monastery provided asylum for Welsh monks fleeing the Saxon Northumbrians after a battle at Bangor-on-Dee, near Chester. Later it was the site of an abbey and was a famous place of pilgrimage; three trips to Bardsey was considered the equivalent to one trip to Rome. I followed in their footsteps.  Today it is a lot easier to get to Rome than Bardsey; the current between the island and the mainland is strong and dangerous in winds. Colin, the expert boatman, cannot sail if the forecast is bad, so there is an element of luck in finding a day when it is safe for him  to take passengers. So what did I experience on Bardsey? I loved it; it was warm and sunny, the views were superb. I spent some time at a makeshift altar in the ruins of the abbey, but I cannot truthfully say I had an overwhelming spiritual experience. I was too busy trying to see all I wanted on the island to linger in any one place. This was as I expected; I often find that so-called “thin places” are pretty thick at the time I visit. I have memories which will return to feed me in the future. But I did have one special experience; the walk down the track to the boat, following the footsteps of pilgrims from the 6^th century, the wait for the boat, looking at the same view they saw. Pilgrimage is more about the journey than the destination and I experienced that on my trip to Bardsey.

Rev David Poyner

I recently went on a walk with some friends. She pointed out to me an oak tree in the middle of the field. This had clearly seen a lot of life. Half the tree was dead; white branches sticking up into the sky or on the ground. However, the rest of the tree was in leaf and seemed healthy to my non-expert eye. She explained a few years ago it had been struck by llightening. However, rather than cut it down, the landowner had waited to see what might happen. The tree now seemed to be recovering. We pondered the virtues of patience and waiting. Waiting is not easy and there can be times when it is simply an excuse for avoiding a problem. But rushing in with undue haste can be the greater evil, particularly when it is motivated by a desire to be seen to be acting. Then it is just an exercise in self-justification. Particularly in the church, it is as well to remember that God plays a long game.

Rev David Poyner

I am writing this on the 25^th anniversary of the attack on the World Trade Centre in New York, when terrorists hijacked two planes and flew them into the twin towers of the building, causing them to collapse and kill over 3000 people. That afternoon I had to meet a solicitor; he compared it to the killing of President Kennedy, when a past generation could always remember where they were when they heard the news. He was correct; I was working at Aston University and had just walked into the lab to do an experiment.  My colleague always had Radio 1 on; but this time rather than music it sounded like news; then he told me what had happened. We forgot our usual banter and just listened. It is easy to say an event changed the world, but I really think this did; it destroyed the optimism that we were moving to a new era built on liberal democracy and, implicitly, human reason. As it so happens, the attack coincided with the start of the Jewish New Year, a time of inward-looking and self-examination. It is the same idea behind the Christian seasons of Advent and, especially Lent. Sadly, after 9/11, there was very little of this; perhaps as a world we yet again discovered that human reason has it limits in determining human behaviour. Instead, we are left with the insight from the Judaeo-Christian tradition that we are sinners who need to seek a new mind. Today, when we look at the conflicts in the world, we can see what happens when we ignore that.

Rev David Poyner

A couple of years ago, I heard Rowan Williams, the last-but-one Archbishop of Canterbury, give a talk. He is a deep thinker and someone who I greatly respect. After the talk, he was asked about the current state of the Church of England. He was tactful but said that he had never known the church be as anxious as it currently is. To be fair, there are issues facing senior clergy that would disturb me if I were in their position; churchgoing has been declining for generations, congregations are elderly and there is now a shortage of vicars. Some grasp at straws; the Bible Society convinced itself there was a “quiet revival” going on in church attendance amongst young people. This was news to me and indeed to the statisticians in the church who collect data on attendance. Eventually they had to retract their claims. Ironically, this is taking place against a background of real growth locally. Congregations at Billingsley and Glazeley are now as good as they were in the 1970s; Highley and Chelmarsh are seeing growth and I think this is also being observed in the neighbouring benefices. The growth is mainly in the elderly, some might question if it is sustainable in the long-run, but equally society will always have plenty of people over 50. And, despite the “quiet revival” debacle, there is some evidence that young people are more curious about religion than their parents and grandparents. Some in the church seek quick fixes, be that optimistic targets for new congregations or a hankering after old-fashioned revival. I am doubtful about the value of these approaches. It took 300 yearsy to convert the Roman empire to Christianity and it seems to me that a better approach is the quiet work of relation-building with individuals, the “cure of souls”within a community, to use the language of the Book of Common Prayer. This is not quick work, I rarely see results and do not expect to in my life time. But the who God deals with eternity plays the long game.

Rev David Poyner