I'm well and truly into the list-making stage of preparations for my little jaunt to Sheffield on Tuesday. I've to-do lists for today, tomorrow and Monday, a reading list which is essentailly just reminders to finish the many half-read books on my bedside table, a list of what I will need to buy like a crossword book and acetates to print the picture or my presentation onto, and a list of what to pack including what I will be wearing on the train.
There's the train tickets to pick up, probably ought to do that before Monday unless I've accidentally booked an advance return to Shipley or Shrewsbury or Shimla instead of Sheffield, there's the biographies of the assessors to memorise, responses to questions I know I will be asked (like "why do you want to be a vicar?") to practice, and a trip to Morrisons to stock the fridge with healthy dinners my dearly-beloved can throw together in a jiffy.
I am an organised person. I like to be content that I have remembered everything and nothing is going to hit me unexpectedly. I like to prepare myself by thinking things through, what it will be like walking into the conference centre, how I will introduce myself to the other candidates, what I will say to the assessors as I walk into the interview rooms. So, of course, I have already formed images of all these things in my mind which will be nothing like the reality. I suppose there's nothing in life we can prepare for fully. It's just a case of going for it and giving it our best shot, which is what I intend to do.
I watched the Royal Wedding yesterday with a tear in my eye. The Bride looked beautiful, the Groom handsome, the music was perfect, and the roar from the crowd as they stepped out on the balcony gave me chills down my spine. On Thursday night I was amazed how many of the guests at Soup Evening were looking forward to watching the wedding on TVs in their hostels. Whatever you think of the Royal family, an event like that unites people, it reminds people from all walks of life of our common ground, that we are all citizens of this nation. I have friends and colleagues who have told me they would not be watching the wedding, and I think that's fine, but for me it was a very special occasion.
Saturday 30 April 2011
Friday 22 April 2011
Good Friday
Last night I went to Maundy Thursday at St David's. I was keen to go for three reasons;
First, because Maria, our Curate, does Maundy Thursday exceptionally well. For the last two years she has encorporated elements of the Jewish Passover ceremony into the service, this year using proper Israeli unleavened bread, kindly donated by a Jewish friend, maintaining a focus on the Exodus story and using a passage in the Hebrew language at the start of the Eucharist. I think it is essential to acknowledge the culture from which our faith emerged, and this is a powerful way of doing so. She also brings other symbolic elements into the service - at the beginning of the service members of the congregation raise one another up by their hands showing how Christ raises us to life. This kind of symbology isn't everyone's cup of tea, but I'm all for experimental worship - keeping things fresh, not routine.
Second, sitting in the Lady Chapel after the Maundy Thursday service last year was the moment I decided to explore the priestly vocation further. It's something that has been niggling away at me for much of my adult life, but I had a renewed sense on Palm Sunday that God was trying to lead me in this direction, and it was the Thursday I prayed for God's help taking this further. And now I'm 11 days from a selection conference - funny that.
Thirdly, and most importantly, Maundy Thursday is undeniably one of the most special nights of the year for Christians. It is the night Jesus washed his disciples' feet, that he broke bread, the night he told them to "love one another", and the night he was arrested, tried and sentanced to crucifixion. I'm trying not to get too preachy, and just be honest to my own feelings - there is a lot about theology I wrestle with, but the image of God incarnate going to the cross to die for love of His creation is so powerful that, despite my theological wranglings, I cannot but affirm it.
Good Friday, everyone.
First, because Maria, our Curate, does Maundy Thursday exceptionally well. For the last two years she has encorporated elements of the Jewish Passover ceremony into the service, this year using proper Israeli unleavened bread, kindly donated by a Jewish friend, maintaining a focus on the Exodus story and using a passage in the Hebrew language at the start of the Eucharist. I think it is essential to acknowledge the culture from which our faith emerged, and this is a powerful way of doing so. She also brings other symbolic elements into the service - at the beginning of the service members of the congregation raise one another up by their hands showing how Christ raises us to life. This kind of symbology isn't everyone's cup of tea, but I'm all for experimental worship - keeping things fresh, not routine.
Second, sitting in the Lady Chapel after the Maundy Thursday service last year was the moment I decided to explore the priestly vocation further. It's something that has been niggling away at me for much of my adult life, but I had a renewed sense on Palm Sunday that God was trying to lead me in this direction, and it was the Thursday I prayed for God's help taking this further. And now I'm 11 days from a selection conference - funny that.
Thirdly, and most importantly, Maundy Thursday is undeniably one of the most special nights of the year for Christians. It is the night Jesus washed his disciples' feet, that he broke bread, the night he told them to "love one another", and the night he was arrested, tried and sentanced to crucifixion. I'm trying not to get too preachy, and just be honest to my own feelings - there is a lot about theology I wrestle with, but the image of God incarnate going to the cross to die for love of His creation is so powerful that, despite my theological wranglings, I cannot but affirm it.
Good Friday, everyone.
Tuesday 19 April 2011
The Incredulity of St Thomas
Hello friends!
Presentation written, I would appreciate your comments!
I am a lover of art. Now, I can’t actually paint myself, and if I’m honest I’m not much of an art historian either, so don’t ask me for my views on 19th century post impressionism please, because I’ll just panic and run away. I just like going to art galleries, and in the words of that noted academic Mr Bean, “I sit in the corner and I look at the pictures.”
While I have liked looking at pictures for a long time, it was only three or four years ago that I really started to think about the use of paintings in Christian worship.
I was attending my church, St David’s, for the first time. It must have been the equivalent to last Sunday’s service, because the then Curate was preaching on doubting Thomas. He wheeled out the OHP - an item I have never seen used in my church since - and projected this painting onto the wall.
It is Caravaggio’s masterpiece ‘the Incredulity of Saint Thomas.’ I had seen it in books a couple of times before, but the presence of the image in church challenged me to reflect on how it struck me spiritually. I can’t actually remember the Curate’s conclusions on the painting, but let me tell you briefly how I see it now.
When I look at this picture, my eye is drawn immediately to that wound in Jesus’ side, indeed the focal point to which all eyes in the picture, apart from Thomas’, are drawn. The flesh is depicted horrifically realistically. I almost flinch as Jesus guides Thomas’ extended finger into it, stretching back the skin. I wonder why the eyes of the stooping Thomas are not also drawn to Jesus’ side, but he stares at a point somewhere else. Perhaps in his touching Jesus’ flesh he has seen a truth beyond the picture frame.
In some ways it’s a simple painting - four figures, no real background, not particularly colourful or decorative. It’s the kind of painting we might pass by in a gallery. But look at it for a few minutes, and some universal themes emerge - doubt, exploration, realisation, the glimpsing of something beyond the flesh. Themes that are just as important to the church today as they were in the age of Caravaggio.
In some ways I’m inclined to think that paintings have lost the place they once had in the church. When worship was only in Latin, and the majority of people did not understand Latin, one of the only ways people could learn about God was through looking around them at the iconography of the church. Although the words of the sermon my Curate preached haven’t stayed with me the image has stuck in my mind for a long time and this has made me wonder if we ought to make more use of the visual both in teaching and in worship.
And I’d like to discuss this with you.
Firstly, I’d like to have a think about those static features of the buildings in which we do our public worship - paintings, statues, stained glass windows, the architectural features even. Do they inspire our worship, or do they pass us by Sunday by Sunday? And for those of you who are perhaps not in highly-decorated churches, does this matter? Does anyone have any immediate thoughts?
There is a phrase that Christians are “people of the word.” Whichever strand of the church we belong to, we cannot get away from the fact that the Bible is absolutely central to our self-understanding as Christians - and the Bible is passed down in words. Given this, are any truths we can gleen from this painting missing the point? Let’s face it, the Biblical account does not actually say that Thomas put his fingers into Jesus’ side, it only says he invited him, this is Caravaggio’s interpretation. Is it not better to preach from the Bible alone?
Presentation written, I would appreciate your comments!
While I have liked looking at pictures for a long time, it was only three or four years ago that I really started to think about the use of paintings in Christian worship.
I was attending my church, St David’s, for the first time. It must have been the equivalent to last Sunday’s service, because the then Curate was preaching on doubting Thomas. He wheeled out the OHP - an item I have never seen used in my church since - and projected this painting onto the wall.
It is Caravaggio’s masterpiece ‘the Incredulity of Saint Thomas.’ I had seen it in books a couple of times before, but the presence of the image in church challenged me to reflect on how it struck me spiritually. I can’t actually remember the Curate’s conclusions on the painting, but let me tell you briefly how I see it now.
When I look at this picture, my eye is drawn immediately to that wound in Jesus’ side, indeed the focal point to which all eyes in the picture, apart from Thomas’, are drawn. The flesh is depicted horrifically realistically. I almost flinch as Jesus guides Thomas’ extended finger into it, stretching back the skin. I wonder why the eyes of the stooping Thomas are not also drawn to Jesus’ side, but he stares at a point somewhere else. Perhaps in his touching Jesus’ flesh he has seen a truth beyond the picture frame.
In some ways it’s a simple painting - four figures, no real background, not particularly colourful or decorative. It’s the kind of painting we might pass by in a gallery. But look at it for a few minutes, and some universal themes emerge - doubt, exploration, realisation, the glimpsing of something beyond the flesh. Themes that are just as important to the church today as they were in the age of Caravaggio.
In some ways I’m inclined to think that paintings have lost the place they once had in the church. When worship was only in Latin, and the majority of people did not understand Latin, one of the only ways people could learn about God was through looking around them at the iconography of the church. Although the words of the sermon my Curate preached haven’t stayed with me the image has stuck in my mind for a long time and this has made me wonder if we ought to make more use of the visual both in teaching and in worship.
And I’d like to discuss this with you.
Firstly, I’d like to have a think about those static features of the buildings in which we do our public worship - paintings, statues, stained glass windows, the architectural features even. Do they inspire our worship, or do they pass us by Sunday by Sunday? And for those of you who are perhaps not in highly-decorated churches, does this matter? Does anyone have any immediate thoughts?
There is a phrase that Christians are “people of the word.” Whichever strand of the church we belong to, we cannot get away from the fact that the Bible is absolutely central to our self-understanding as Christians - and the Bible is passed down in words. Given this, are any truths we can gleen from this painting missing the point? Let’s face it, the Biblical account does not actually say that Thomas put his fingers into Jesus’ side, it only says he invited him, this is Caravaggio’s interpretation. Is it not better to preach from the Bible alone?
Monday 18 April 2011
An Old Friend
Another week has begun.
Today I have been feeling melancholy. In brief, I have been thinking a lot recently about an old schoolfriend. She was one of my closest friends in my younger teenage years, yet no-one else knew what I saw in her (old school friends will now know who I mean!) I continue to maintain she had a very good heart. By year 10 and 11 her life was spiralling into places I did not want to follow, and I last saw her 6 years ago, in a dingy flat behind Asda. She said she was getting her life back on track. Perhaps, because of the phase I am in right now, I am naturally reflecting on my life so far, and I was overcome with a desire to Google her. She now uses a different surname to the one she used at school. What I found I did not like. It feels intrusive to tell you what, suffice to say it consisted of local newspaper reports - and it could hardly have got any worse. I went and sat by the river today and tried to come to terms with what I had learnt. I see people living painful lives at soup kitchen every week, but now that someone I once called my best friend appears to be in a similar place it suddenly seems more real. It doesn't make me doubt my faith, but it puts into perspective the amount of pain and suffering in the world. Those of us who are fortunate enough to live comfortable middle class lives don't glimpse it truly, or very often.
In other news, my presentation is still evolving, the main change being I've switched the painting from 'The Resurrection of Christ' to Caravaggio's 'the Incredulity of St. Thomas' mainly because, with its themes of doubt, exploring and realisation I think it's a more appropriate painting for a BAP.
Today I have been feeling melancholy. In brief, I have been thinking a lot recently about an old schoolfriend. She was one of my closest friends in my younger teenage years, yet no-one else knew what I saw in her (old school friends will now know who I mean!) I continue to maintain she had a very good heart. By year 10 and 11 her life was spiralling into places I did not want to follow, and I last saw her 6 years ago, in a dingy flat behind Asda. She said she was getting her life back on track. Perhaps, because of the phase I am in right now, I am naturally reflecting on my life so far, and I was overcome with a desire to Google her. She now uses a different surname to the one she used at school. What I found I did not like. It feels intrusive to tell you what, suffice to say it consisted of local newspaper reports - and it could hardly have got any worse. I went and sat by the river today and tried to come to terms with what I had learnt. I see people living painful lives at soup kitchen every week, but now that someone I once called my best friend appears to be in a similar place it suddenly seems more real. It doesn't make me doubt my faith, but it puts into perspective the amount of pain and suffering in the world. Those of us who are fortunate enough to live comfortable middle class lives don't glimpse it truly, or very often.
In other news, my presentation is still evolving, the main change being I've switched the painting from 'The Resurrection of Christ' to Caravaggio's 'the Incredulity of St. Thomas' mainly because, with its themes of doubt, exploring and realisation I think it's a more appropriate painting for a BAP.
Saturday 16 April 2011
Practice makes Perfect
This morning a letter dropped on my doorstep. It was stamped 'the Archbishop's Council.' On further investigation it turned out to be a letter giving me further information and directions to my Bishops Advisory Panel. It also contained a short paragraph on each of the 6 advisors who will be in attendance, 3 of whom will interview me. I intend to memorise them thoroughly to give me plenty of conversation openers at meal times!
2-and-a-half weeks away, and I have begun thinking about my presentation. The brief is a 5 minute presentation (leading into a 10 minute or so discussion with the rest of the group) on a topic which interests you which relates to one of the nine criterea (vocation, ministry in the Church of England, spirituality, personality & character, faith, mission & evangelism, relationships, leadership & collaboration and quality of mind.)
The problem is, that's a pretty broad brief! One of the people I met during my interview at Cuddesdon said that, in his opinion, the presentations that work best are the ones where people write about one of their hobbies or interests and relate that to one of the criterea. So I began by writing an entertaining account of my experience as a jogger, and related it to the things that sustain us in our faith - the best bit being when I related my inhaler to the Holy Spirit... (tenuous? Moi?!) It was a bit weak to tell the truth, so I turned my attention to writing a presentation about reading the Bible, and finding characters we identify with. It was ok, but I agree with my husband's response, "it sounds like a sermon."
So idea no. 3 is underway and I'm talking about art. My favourite module at University was 'Theology, Art and Politics,' taught by the great Rev Professor Tim Gorringe, which was pretty much a whistle stop tour through the history of art (in one 4 hour lecture per week) through the eyes of Theology. There's something about paintings that grab me - maybe its the way they reveal themselves to you slowly. I think this would be an interesting thing to share with the BAP. I'm thinking of talking about Pierro Della Francesca's 'the Resurrection of Christ' and discussing the value of visual stimulus in private prayer/public worship with the group. I've started to draft the presentation and, so far, it feels balanced - theological but not too theological, broad but not too broad - so I'm hoping this will be third time lucky as far as ideas go!
In other news, work is ticking along as work does, and we have not yet sold our house (although one offer is on the table, it is a low one!) I'll keep you posted!
2-and-a-half weeks away, and I have begun thinking about my presentation. The brief is a 5 minute presentation (leading into a 10 minute or so discussion with the rest of the group) on a topic which interests you which relates to one of the nine criterea (vocation, ministry in the Church of England, spirituality, personality & character, faith, mission & evangelism, relationships, leadership & collaboration and quality of mind.)
The problem is, that's a pretty broad brief! One of the people I met during my interview at Cuddesdon said that, in his opinion, the presentations that work best are the ones where people write about one of their hobbies or interests and relate that to one of the criterea. So I began by writing an entertaining account of my experience as a jogger, and related it to the things that sustain us in our faith - the best bit being when I related my inhaler to the Holy Spirit... (tenuous? Moi?!) It was a bit weak to tell the truth, so I turned my attention to writing a presentation about reading the Bible, and finding characters we identify with. It was ok, but I agree with my husband's response, "it sounds like a sermon."
So idea no. 3 is underway and I'm talking about art. My favourite module at University was 'Theology, Art and Politics,' taught by the great Rev Professor Tim Gorringe, which was pretty much a whistle stop tour through the history of art (in one 4 hour lecture per week) through the eyes of Theology. There's something about paintings that grab me - maybe its the way they reveal themselves to you slowly. I think this would be an interesting thing to share with the BAP. I'm thinking of talking about Pierro Della Francesca's 'the Resurrection of Christ' and discussing the value of visual stimulus in private prayer/public worship with the group. I've started to draft the presentation and, so far, it feels balanced - theological but not too theological, broad but not too broad - so I'm hoping this will be third time lucky as far as ideas go!
In other news, work is ticking along as work does, and we have not yet sold our house (although one offer is on the table, it is a low one!) I'll keep you posted!
Saturday 2 April 2011
Let's get Blogging...
Hello Friends,
I last blogged 2-and-a-half years ago when I wrote an exciting (or not) account of the 162 days leading up to my wedding. It was a riproaring rollercoaster adventure which took for its main plot the issue of buying appropriate bridesmaids' shoes. It's here if you want to see it, but I wouldn't get distracted by it if I were you... http://highburyhan.livejournal.com/
'So why,' I hear you cry, 'are you returning to Blogging now, when your life's masterpiece has clearly already been penned?' Well, I find there's something satisfying about writing down thoughts and feelings during transitional stages of life and this is one of them.
In four-and-a-half weeks time I am to go to Whirlow Grange conference centre in Sheffield to what is known as a Bishops' Advisory Panel. After almost a year in the process of discerning my vocation with the Diocese of Exeter, it is this final 3-day set of interviews, exercises and presentations which will determine whether or not I am to be a Priest in the Church of England. If I am successful, myself and Mr A will move to Cuddesdon near Oxford for 2 years of training followed by a return to Devon for a Curacy. If I am unsuccessful... well... I guess I'll carry on working at the Council. Either way, I intend to carry on this Blog.
It's big stuff.
So what's been going down with me recently? Well, most at the forefront of my mind is selling the house. It's a slightly rough-round-the-edges ex-Council House which myself and Mr A bought 1-and-a-half-years-ago, thinking we would live here forever. We have slowly been doing it up, every room repainted and refloored by our own fair hands. Now, doing up an entire house might sound fun in theory, but in practice it's flipping hard work. But it's lovely to look back on what we've done and remember how much it's changed. And now it's on the market, has been so for two weeks, no viewings as yet but we have two couples coming round on Monday. I'm not sure how I feel about it. There's something odd about the idea of strangers coming into the house which you've poured your blood, sweat and tears (yep, literally, all 3) into, and deciding whether they wish to pay their life's savings for it or not. And it's a huge risk - say one of the couples on Monday put in a decent offer and we accept it, then I get turned down at the panel? Still, it's exciting.
Another thing on my mind is work. I'm just coming to the end of a week of annual leave. On my last day of work before leaving I told my boss all about my intentions. With the house being on the market keeping it a secret was getting too much. She was lovely and very supportive, even said she could really see me being a vicar. I feel a bit guilty that I've kept it from her for so long, and hope it won't affect things going forward, especially if I don't get in, because really I like my job and my colleagues. Hummmm we'll see.
Well, I won't keep you too long on this Blog post. Byeee.
I last blogged 2-and-a-half years ago when I wrote an exciting (or not) account of the 162 days leading up to my wedding. It was a riproaring rollercoaster adventure which took for its main plot the issue of buying appropriate bridesmaids' shoes. It's here if you want to see it, but I wouldn't get distracted by it if I were you... http://highburyhan.livejournal.com/
'So why,' I hear you cry, 'are you returning to Blogging now, when your life's masterpiece has clearly already been penned?' Well, I find there's something satisfying about writing down thoughts and feelings during transitional stages of life and this is one of them.
In four-and-a-half weeks time I am to go to Whirlow Grange conference centre in Sheffield to what is known as a Bishops' Advisory Panel. After almost a year in the process of discerning my vocation with the Diocese of Exeter, it is this final 3-day set of interviews, exercises and presentations which will determine whether or not I am to be a Priest in the Church of England. If I am successful, myself and Mr A will move to Cuddesdon near Oxford for 2 years of training followed by a return to Devon for a Curacy. If I am unsuccessful... well... I guess I'll carry on working at the Council. Either way, I intend to carry on this Blog.
It's big stuff.
So what's been going down with me recently? Well, most at the forefront of my mind is selling the house. It's a slightly rough-round-the-edges ex-Council House which myself and Mr A bought 1-and-a-half-years-ago, thinking we would live here forever. We have slowly been doing it up, every room repainted and refloored by our own fair hands. Now, doing up an entire house might sound fun in theory, but in practice it's flipping hard work. But it's lovely to look back on what we've done and remember how much it's changed. And now it's on the market, has been so for two weeks, no viewings as yet but we have two couples coming round on Monday. I'm not sure how I feel about it. There's something odd about the idea of strangers coming into the house which you've poured your blood, sweat and tears (yep, literally, all 3) into, and deciding whether they wish to pay their life's savings for it or not. And it's a huge risk - say one of the couples on Monday put in a decent offer and we accept it, then I get turned down at the panel? Still, it's exciting.
Another thing on my mind is work. I'm just coming to the end of a week of annual leave. On my last day of work before leaving I told my boss all about my intentions. With the house being on the market keeping it a secret was getting too much. She was lovely and very supportive, even said she could really see me being a vicar. I feel a bit guilty that I've kept it from her for so long, and hope it won't affect things going forward, especially if I don't get in, because really I like my job and my colleagues. Hummmm we'll see.
Well, I won't keep you too long on this Blog post. Byeee.
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