At camel's pace

Do I dare disturb the Universe?

gorsefore — Wed, 20 Oct 2010 11:53:56 +0000

Milton Brasher Cunningham – cook, write, teacher….- writes an excellent and thoughtful blog called “Don’t eat alone”.

His posting on October 12th “Can I get a witness” started off from two books launching him again into the poetry of T S Eliot

The line that has stayed with me is “Do I dare disturb the universe?” from Eliot’s “The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock”.

Do I keep my head down or allow my choices to be part of the complex weave of life? Do I look after myself or trust the words we so often say - “Thy kingdom come” – and live accordingly?

The spin of possibility

gorsefore — Fri, 15 Oct 2010 07:10:25 +0000

Inside the cool building a service was concluding and I watched and waited while the congregation dispersed. This time it was Paul, or more properly, Saul whom I had come to see, struck blind, upended and dashed definitively from his horse on his way to Damascus.

A church, from long tradition, offers even strangers to worship a rest from the press of the world and as I didn’t fancy fighting through the mass of Communists again, and had time on my hands, I sat in the vaulted quiet reflecting on the Caravaggios.

What they so strikingly offered was access to those moments which invade time and contain both its annihilation and renewal. That finger of Christ, pointing from one side of the room at Matthew, as he sits chatting with his cronies at a custom-house table, describes, and forces on the surprised tax collector, a shattering choice. His bemused eyes cannot evade the level gaze of his irresistible summoner and with his left hand, the hand of the heart, he points at himself in hopeful disbelief: Is it really me you want? — while, instinctively, the right hand is covering the coins on the table, guarding the money he has spent a lifetime successfully raking in.

And in that split-atom second that the vicious persecutor Saul becomes the victimised apostle Paul, he is propelled upside down, body exposed like a turned hedgehog, arms flung wide against his cruel past and the prevailing inrush of obliterating brightness.

Out of his own torment, Caravaggio apprehended those staggering reckonings, where a life spins on a point of possibility, where irreconcilable worlds, which have lain, indistinguishable and slumbering, one atop the other, rear up and show their ineluctable differences.

From “The Other Side of You” by Sally Vickers pp 281-282

“The Conversion of Paul” can be seen in Santa Maria del Poppolo in Rome and “The Calling of Matthew” in the Contarelli Chapel of the Francesi Church also in Rome

Becoming a community that prays #7

gorsefore — Thu, 16 Sep 2010 08:00:18 +0000

Becoming a community that prays #7

Becoming a community that prays #7 The way forward

To become such a community requires that its members should aspire. Such a community is a gift of God to those who seek to pray together. It is a great deal more than an expression of mutual tolerance. Tolerance expresses no statement of final purpose. Christian community presupposes a greater goal, but it is important that members express at appropriate moments what that greater goal is. On the other hand, it is important that the members of the community do not have impossibly high standards. The health of the body is so that it may carry out the vocation that comes from God: it is not an end in itself. The point is faithfulness, not excellence. If high standards get in the way of members expressing needs, joys, hurts, and thanks to one another, then those standards have gone beyond their usefulness. God’s gift to Christian community is divine: but the divine gift is a gift that makes the community human.

One local congregation had been through a traumatic period in which high hopes had been dashed, relationships of trust had been damaged, and a prominent marriage had ended in bewildered separation. The members of the congregation went away together, and through careful facilitation spent the morning articulating need and regret. At one point the isolation of bereavement overcame one of those present. The facilitator asked the person sitting beside the one who was bathed in tears to offer comfort on behalf of everyone else, ensuring that the grief was kept within the body, not taken elsewhere. Unknown to the facilitator, the person called upon had been dealing with significant problems of mental health, problems that would commonly be seen as alienating a person from local society — so this momentary ministry was especially poignant, and could not be refused. After a cathartic period that acknowledged the darkness of the previous few months, members began to express a sense of thankfulness for one another’s faithfulness and embodied hope. At the end of the morning they began to talk of high points in the last year, and one member referred to the annual Passover meal, traditionally held each Maundy Thursday. “We really enjoy that night — having the Last Supper together,” she said. “But I’ve begun to wonder recently, did Jesus enjoy the Last Supper? Did he enjoy it in the way we do?” An awed silence followed. Her words turned petition and confession into wonder, revealed that a period of grief had been an encounter with the God of Jesus Christ, and transformed what could simply have been a therapy session into an experience of corporate prayer.

From God’s Companions by Samuel Wells pp 87-89

Silence

gorsefore — Tue, 14 Sep 2010 11:14:24 +0000

There is a story of a group of sherpas in the Himalayas who walked and climbed with a group of Western mountaineers for several days and nights. After a long period of almost continuous journeying, they rather abruptly halted, put down the equipment, and rested, not to sleep, but apparently to wait for something or someone. On enquiry from the Westerners, the sherpas explained, simply: “We have traveled a long way; we are waiting for our souls to catch up with our bodies.”

This is the role of the silence that follows the offering of praise. A long way has indeed been traveled. An assembly of people has become a congregation, the Body of Christ. In doing so they have become aware of God, of one another, of authority, and of all in God’s creation that is not sharing in the opportunity to worship. They have been reminded of their true place in God’s story, and have been horrified to realize how they have acted as if living out a rival story; they have acknowledged this bewilderment, and promised to live God’s story again, and been restored to God’s companionship. They have risen from penitence to share in glory, praising the God who creates, saves, and empowers and discovering in song the mercy of providence and the possibilities of faith. From the breadth of gathering to the depth of repentance to the height of glory:in silence the members of the congregation allow their bodies to catch up with their souls. They have been trained in silence by what they have already done together.

from “God’s Companions” by Samuel Wells pp 149-150

Stages 3 and 4

gorsefore — Mon, 13 Sep 2010 09:16:26 +0000

Thames Path Sections 3 and 4 Cricklade to Lechlade

Cricklade was a favoured crossing point for the Romans and the Roman Ermine Street runs nearby.

In Cricklade High Street the Norman church of St Mary has become the local Catholic church after the Anglicans stopped using it.

Almost opposite St Mary’s the Thames Path leaves the High Street moving out into open meadows. The river is already growing in size and the Churn (one of the earliest tributaries) joins it here.

Much of the footpath here was created specially for Thames Path walkers so it crosses footbridges over water channels dividing fields some very large.

Approaching Castle Eaton the path heads East whilst the river makes a loop north and south and often remains a field or two away from the path.

What is perhaps the worst part of the Thames Path comes at Upper Inglesham. The path then leads into the village where you turn and walk beside the (busy) A361. You walk by the road for a couple of miles. The National Trail Guidebook recommends you walk on the east side where “there are verges that are regularly cut for you”. My impression was that also makes it easy for cars to park on!

Eventually you turn down a lane signposted to Inglesham church and once again walk by the river. The stone built farmouse here is called Roundhouse Farm named after the nearby Roundhouse. The roundhouses were the unusual quarters for lock keepers on the (now defunct) Thames and Severn Canal. The Thames end is nearby and the canal journeyed to the Severn at Stroud via the Sapperton Tunnel and the Golden Valley. It was an ambitious project but was never really successful. It leaked constantly and the last boat to travel it did so in 1927.

A little further downstream is an important landmark in the form of a modest block of stone. Here the towpath to London starts (or finishes) and the path follows it to Putney.

Lechlade’s 18^th Century town bridge (usually called Ha’penny Bridge from the toll once charged) was where I set off on July 2^nd. Today it marks not only the end of a days walking but also the completion of the 184 mile trail I started to walk on May 12^th.

Time to hang up my boots for a while!

Becoming a community that prays #6

gorsefore — Sun, 12 Sep 2010 11:00:12 +0000

Becoming a community that prays #6 Silence

Finally, becoming a person who can pray means learning to be still and silent before God. Likewise becoming a community that can pray means making spaces where the members are silent and still together, where the corporate practice of the community affirms the priority of the action of God, where all come together and share the intimacy and vulnerability of resting for both their urgent present as well as their eternal future in nothing other than in the grace of God.

From God’s Companions by Samuel Wells pp 87-89

stages 1 and 2

gorsefore — Sat, 11 Sep 2010 16:11:41 +0000

Thames Path Sections 1 and 2 The Source to Cricklade

Pretty much everyone who walks to the source of the Thames parks at Kemble Railway station. There are a number of remote points on the Thames but the source is not one of them!

The source itself is marked by a stone erected by the Thames Conservators. Up until 1974 there was also an image of Old Father Thames but that is now installed at St John’s lock (Lechlade) further down stream.

There was no running water in sight the day we visited though after a wet season there can be a lake of Thames water. The source of the Thames moves according to the level of the water table appearing where the water table and ground level are near.

So from the source it’s downhill for 184 miles!

The path crosses a field you then have to cross the A433 based on the Roman Fosse Way. The path follows a ditch or hollow that has the feel of a dried up stream.

It then edges it’s way round Kemble and you move towards Ewen. At first you see a series of “ponds”

until at last The mighty Thames takes form as a modest stream.

An army of volunteer wardens keep watch on the Thames Path – usually looikng after a few miles each. They sometimes give away their presnce by tell tale t-shirts.

You continue in the tranquil rural setting until you come to Neigh Bridge Country Park. The lakes of water have been developed in former quarries and overall go under the title of the Cotswold Water Park.

The Path (and the stream of the Thames) threads its way between the quarries until it comes to the village of Ashton Keynes which is almost surrounded by quarries.

A pretty little canal like feature is surrounded by quaint houses. On the further side of the village you resume finding your way between former gravel workings – this section is described as the Cleveland lakes – much of it devoted to fishing.

Eventually you turn your back on the “lakes” and enter North Meadow a nature reserve established in 1973 to protect ancient meadowland still opened to common grazing on the old Lammas Land principle. North Meadow leads to North Wall (a road following the course of the old wall) and the High Street of the first township on the Thames

Vet at Camel House

gorsefore — Tue, 31 Aug 2010 13:35:44 +0000

Sorry for the interruption to service.

On holiday I picked up a nasty bug that, when I got home, turned into a chest infection.

Thanks to the vet I am now feeling much better but am still catching up with things.

I have lots to report about the Thames Path, labyrinths, Greenbelt and the delights of getting back to work .

Camel abroad #7

gorsefore — Wed, 18 Aug 2010 10:53:24 +0000

In the village of Fluelli Ranft , the birthplace of Br Klaus, is a convent called the House of St Dorothy (named after Klaus’ wife). The house is on the route through Switzerland to Santiago di Compostela.

In the grounds is a labyrinth built by a peace village that was on the site in the 1980’s. There is snow here in the autumn and winter so instead of making a turf labyrinth the boundary is printed with flowers that grow high enough to make a “wall” and yet are fragrant when you brush against them.

At the centre of the labyrinth is a water feature version of Br Klaus’ mediation circle – see Camel abroad #6

Sharing the Peace

gorsefore — Tue, 17 Aug 2010 10:56:13 +0000

Vincent Donovan (in his book Christianity rediscovered: an epistle from the Masai) clarifies why the sharing of the peace is so important. Donovan describes in vivid detail his experience of evangelizing the Masai in Tanzania in the 1960s and 1970s, and of how they rediscovered the significance of the Mass as it shaped their common life. The Mass would begin when the priest drove his Land Rover into the village, as children swarmed for a blessing, elders looked up from their cattle-herding and mothers stirred from their milking. But long before, the consciousness of the coming Mass had begun to permeate the village. It was not confined to a specific building: it started from a spot where some elders had lit a small fire before the priest arrived. Before he entered the village, Donovan would stoop to scoop up a handful of grass, ready to present it to the first elders who came to greet him. Grass was sacred to the Masai because their cattle depended on it, and they in turn depended on their cattle. So grass indicated peace and happiness and well-being. If an argument erupted the offer and reception of a tuft of grass would guarantee that no violence would ensue. So Donovan would begin by offering a tuft of grass to the first elder who met him, and this elder would pass it to his family, and they would pass it to neighboring elders and families, and thence all through the village. This was the peace of Christ.

from God’s Companions by Samuel Wells p187