Dialogue

I went to three church services today, each with something for me to take away.

The first was the usual at Nearest Church, where I am settling in as organist. It's interesting getting to know the choir members individually and as a group, it feels rather different than it did when I was singing with them. I can't quite tell if I'm doing things "properly" but there is much that feels right. Gentle Vicar was on good form and the sermon was, if a little meandering, compassionate and affirming and challenging.

In the afternoon I went to a sung meditative service at Long Walk Church. I hadn't been to one of these before and wanted to hear their choir (which is small) and find out how they do things. It was interesting. It was good to be in a service where I didn't bear responsibility for the liturgy. It was good to see what was going on there. I realised that one of the very important things for me as a choir director is going to be to make sure I keep singing in other situations and especially in choirs where I am not leading. This is harder than it sounds, but having realised how important it is I think I might be able to fit it in.

The third service was at Leafy Suburb Church, which has been so important on my spiritual journey and which has one of my favouritestest people in the entire wide world, previously referred to here as Ambassador for Compassion, as Curate. Her sermon was good but I did struggle with one possible interpretation of what she said. She was preaching the potter in Jeremiah and the images of wrath and destruction which follow; she said that God does continually re-form us and that sometimes this is uncomfortable or frightening, especially if we are willfully resistant. She spoke of change and fear of change, about how we respond as individuals and institutions, about actions having consequences, about judgement being part of growth. She spoke of clay pots before and after firing, about flexibility and brittleness and the uselessness of shattered vessels.

The problem I have with this model is that it is too easy to extend it into something ugly, evil even. It is too easy to fall into the sort of theology that is found in some of the psalms: the idea that those who are prosperous are so because they are righteous, and conversely that those who suffer have somehow managed to piss God off. That kind of tit-for-tat petty logic is rife in our society and it is so very easy, and so very unhelpful, for people who are successful to think they needn't engage with those less fortunate, and also for people who are in real distress to blame themselves and get stuck in the mire of guilt.

I don't deny that change can be uncomfortable. I am sure that sometimes God speaks to us with discomfort if other methods don't work. I know that cause and effect is a simple fact of life in this world. But I don't think that's the whole picture. I know we suffer hugely at the hands of one another, and to say that is God's doing is to deny free will.

I believe God's love is transformative. I can't square that with punitive aspects of judgement. There is this whisper of hope that says nothing is wasted, not even our most selfish sins; that broken clay pots can still be made into mosaics. There is some persistent whiff of something I can only call redemption. The God who created the heavens and earth may well be a jealous God, but this is Christianity we're talking about here, and the God that loves us so much that God gave God's Son for us is not going to withhold that love because we've messed up (and isn't the Greek "hamartia" or "sin" more about missing the mark, the way an arrow misses a target, than about willfully doing wrong? No idea what the Hebrew is like).

That, too, can be oversimplified into something ugly. Our sins will be forgiven, transformed into something good? Then why bother trying to be good? Why bother striving for right action? Isn't trying to please God just a sort of Pelagian heresy?

That oversimplification also falls apart when viewed from the foot of the cross. I can't speak for others, but when I love someone, I wince when they are in pain. How much more so for God who loves us infinitely and unconditionally, and has much better than my measly human awareness of others' suffering? When we turn away from good, when we harm one another, that infinite love results in infinite pain which God bears on our behalf. That is quite terrifying. We are commanded to love God; by extension that means caring enough to want to reduce any pain God might bear. That means that even though by God's grace we are forgiven we should still strive to do God's will -- not for fear of what God will do to us should we fail, but because we love God's delight and abhor God's pain.

The other thing Ambassador for Compassion spoke of was the need for a two-way relationship with God. We are not golems, fashioned of clay with no will of our own. We live and breathe and laugh and cry; we respond. When we respond to God with open hearts, we participate in our own fashioning, our own formation if you like to call it that, and God responds back.

I think that dialogue-rather-than-monologue relationship with God is a key to avoiding both of the oversimplifications I've outlined in this post.

Oh...

Had a chat with Gentle Vicar this week.

I knew about this but hadn't said much here, just yet. Networking Organist is leaving Nearest Church in the autumn and has recommended me to be his replacement. Gentle Vicar is happy to employ me on the strength of that recommendation. That's a little daunting; I think Networking Organist carries a higher opinion of my skills than I do.

The money is not brilliant, but it is regular. Professionally, there's a reasonable amount of flexibility, a reasonable freedom to experiment... the music at Nearest Church is in a bit of a sorry state, but building something out of that will be a valuable and rewarding experience, if trying at times.

I have concerns about some of the relationships within the community, concerns about my own leadership ability, but Gentle Vicar does seem to be, for the most part, my kind of heretic; he's someone I do think I can talk to about these concerns, as well as some of my hopes and tentative plans for what could be done. I think, I hope, that we can also be quite reasonable about the hat-swapping -- sometimes I will be the organist, sometimes I will be the parishioner. Sometimes Gentle Vicar will be my boss and sometimes my parish priest. I think we can deal with that.

The organ is in a rather sorry state, too. But you play the instrument you have. It won't get repaired if it doesn't get used.

While my physical problems are painful at times, they're unlikely to stop me playing in the near future. When they do -- if they do -- loss of function should be gradual enough that I can give appropriate notice. Gentle Vicar is supportive about that, too.

I said yes. I think I'm going to make a huge number of mistakes, but I said that, and I said yes anyway. We'll sort out the details nearer the time.

I don't know how much I'm going to blog about it. I want to protect some of my anonymity. I guess I'm just another organist in a suburban parish church with an ageing congregation, though.

Church

It seems such a long time ago I was writing posts about searching for a local church to attend.

I settled on Nearest Church, partly because of the warm welcome given me by the congregation there. I haven't been disappointed.

I've had some quality mentorship and guidance from the organist there; I am involved in choir directing, choosing hymns, and pretty much anything to do with music. I've been practising the organ and playing for services occasionally when Networking Organist can't be there. The choir, like the congregation, is small but caring.

Gentle Vicar has been on sabbatical for the last few months, so I haven't gotten to know him any better. Having visiting clergy has been interesting, but I'm looking forward to his return.

Delightful Reader I was shy of at first, but we are slowly getting to know one another. She is also very supportive, but in a different way than Networking Organist is.

It isn't all kittens and cookies...there are issues. There are parishioners who would really rather have a Resolution C parish, and stayed away when we had a female priest the other week. There are parishioners who don't get on with other parishioners, new arguments and ones that have been running for years. I think I've managed to stay clear of them so far but it's only a matter of time...But we rub along, somehow. We all need grace. One bread, you know?

I find myself struggling not to jump in and provide admin support. I can do the work; I worked in a synagogue for a few years, I grew up in a house with clergy in it, some of my best friends are church folks, and I'm reasonably competent with computers as long as someone will proofread for me.

But me taking over the secretarial work would not be best, in the long run. I know from past experience that office work is, ultimately, something that makes me very unhappy. I know I have difficulty with long-term follow-up on paperwork tasks, and I struggle with that enough in the secretarial side of my own work. Longer-term, I would be a poor secretary, but having me do the work for free would block progress toward a sustainable solution for them and block my own progress in work that is meaningful and fulfilling.

Yet, it needs to be done. It isn't any more fulfilling for the people who are doing it now. Most of the world is run by people doing what needs to be done, rather than what brings meaning to their lives, and why should I be any different? The perfectionist in me hates to see it being done badly, too -- not that I'd do it perfectly, but I see errors that are avoidable. So I find myself wondering whether there is some way that I could help without taking over, some way I could help streamline some processes and document others in such a way that people can do them without as much stress and fuss as now.

I am biding my time on this. I am waiting until Gentle Vicar is back, and has been back for a while. Much has changed in this community and it will take time for it to settle. If there's no sign of improved admin after 6 months I'll say something.

The musical situation is similar, in some ways. Networking Organist is not paid for the choir rehearsals or the admin work he does in connection with the choir (the sort of thing that might reasonably be passed to a secretary, if such a thing existed). He is paid below what is usual for the service on Sunday mornings. The choir is small and lacks confidence, though they are enthusiastic when given reason to be.

But with this, I can build something. I don't mind doing most of the work for free, because I'm learning a huge amount. Because of my training, because of the guidance Networking Organist gives me, because of my experience, I'm in a position to meet people where they are and show them a bit of what they can do. Networking Organist is really great -- when he puts me in a leadership position he is absolutely supportive, with any suggestions being made entirely behind-the-scenes and any questions from choir members referred to me. People seem to be responding. I have ideas for a children's choir and various other projects, and I'm being given the freedom to take my time figuring out what I want to do, even as I'm having one or two small things dropped on me when I'm ready.

At the same time, I go to Long Walk Church for Morning Prayer a couple of times a week if my dodgy hip (which has been very good recently) will let me, and although I've not been there for some time, I haven't lost sight of Church-by-the-Station. I'm not spreading my bets, exactly, or looking for another community -- for the time being I am committed to attending Nearest Church and getting involved there -- but these other connections are not to be abandoned. I've not worked out what I have to offer in these other contexts, but they seem important. I keep visiting Leafy Suburb Church when I can, though I'm never quite sure whether I want to go to see Ambassador for Compassion or because of some other gentle yearning for the warmth and caring of the community there. That connection seems important too.

I can't write about most of this stuff in any detail without destroying what anonymity I retain here, and I want to keep that anonymity so that when I do need to write about the difficult stuff, I can do so without fear of professional repercussions.

Communi(cati)on

I had a rather lovely chat with Gentle Vicar today.

I explained some of my background -- the difficult, semi-nomadic childhood, the spiritual barrenness of my first experiences with Christianity, the venture into Judaism, some of the factors that made me re-examine Christianity.

We spoke of the changes at Nearest Church over the last little while. Six years ago it was a Forward in Faith parish, complete with flying bishops and no females allowed in the sanctuary. Now it is far more inclusive.

We spoke of many things -- of serving the community, of Creeds, of scriptural authority. It's clear that Gentle Vicar is my kind of heretic! I especially respect that he was willing to come out and say "I don't always know what I believe about X" instead of skirting around the issue with a more general "many people struggle with X". It takes a certain courage to be honest and vulnerable when faced with someone who will in all likelihood pick apart any discrepancies in what you say.

And he said, "What about the Eucharist?" and so I explained pretty much all of my last post on the subject. And I said I was willing to change my mind, but from my current perspective I don't want to take Communion until a) I am allowed according to what the Church says and b) I am in a situation where it is offered unconditionally. We spoke of what "member in good standing of a Trinitarian church" actually means (answer: nearly anything if you want to be technical) and why I'm not willing to fudge on that. We spoke of what is printed in the service sheet compared to what actually happens. We spoke of the messages it sends to others if I take communion or if I don't.

Gentle Vicar doesn't turn anyone away, whether they are baptised or not, confirmed or not, or have three heads, and doesn't give a fig what canon law says about it.

He noted that I had just said, earlier in our conversation, that within the C of E confirmation is not required. Baptised children are allowed communion; I would not be fudging, by my own standards of what the church thinks it allows. I'd be an edge case in many congregants' minds, but not in canon law.

So I'm at a point where my only quibble is that the offer of welcome is not made more explicit. Given the history at Nearest Church (and I've had some hints about this from others I've spoken to, as well) I think I trust Gentle Vicar to know when to take a softly, softly approach and when to do something rash like changing the wording of the notice in the service booklet.

Being an edge case in the mind of most congregants, but not in canon law, means if I don't take Communion I appear to support the status quo, and if I do take it I appear to push the boundaries... I am in a position that is the opposite of where I thought I was. Of course, this isn't actually about what anyone else thinks, and 99% of them absolutely will not be paying attention to whether I receive a blessing or something to eat. But I value integrity and consistency of thought and deed; the messages I send and concern for what others think of me are not quite the same thing.

If I want to send the message that Communion is available to anyone who wants it, I should partake if I feel drawn to do so. Anything else is holding myself hostage from God until the Church does what I want, in much the same way as some parts of the Church attempt to hold God hostage. I can sit on my thumbs thinking up a thousand reasons why I'm not worthy, or throw myself on the Divine mercy and grace without which life would be hopeless.

...but only say the word and I shall be healed.

Placemarking

Had a hard time earlier this week. Everything's going well -- teaching continues to challenge and stretch me, and my students are a delight. I have some performance deadlines which are enough to motivate me to practise but not enough to terrify me, and things are going well at Nearest Church (which I need to find a better name for, but never mind): I'm getting involved, getting challenged, and also still feeling very welcome. Friendships old and new continue to grow and develop. My life is pretty good.

But I've been having a bit of brainhacking, or counselling as many people would call it. I'm dealing with the same issues that sidelined me in 2005, stuff about parents and trust and growing up. Yes, I had three years of therapy before, three years of going once a week to an appointment I mostly dreaded, spending the first half hour getting to the point where I could talk about things in any meaningful way at all and then the next fifteen minutes sobbing and the next five trying to regain enough composure to get up and walk out of the room. Those three years, and a lot of other help besides, got me to the point where I could venture out from under the duvet and actually do things. They got me to a point of functioning in the world again when I had retreated.

They didn't really deal with the reasons for the retreat. And if I want to remain functional -- if I want to keep doing things in the world without being ambushed at some point by uncontrollable anxiety -- I've got to do some work toward looking at some of those issues, painful as they are, at integrating those experiences into who I am now.

It's easier this time in some senses, because I am mostly functional. I get out of bed every morning. I practise most days. I don't cancel work, calling in sick because I don't have it in me to leave the house. But it's also harder, because doing these things means I have commitments I want to keep and there isn't always space for me to hide under the duvet if I'm frightened.

On Monday I had my appointment and oh, it hurt but oh, there was progress I think. And then I neatly folded my issues away into one corner of my brain and went off to do my teaching. It wasn't an easy evening of teaching, and on my way home while I was sitting on the Tube praying silently to myself those bastard issues unfolded themselves and I went from mostly calm and collected to being in tears. There is nothing quite as classy as crying on public transport, so of course that made me feel worse, and for a few moments I wondered if I was really losing it all again.

Thankfully, Sweetie was home from work a bit early and when I got in Intrepid Anthropologist had nearly made dinner, and between the two of them I had lots of hugs. And people on the lovely lovely internet sent their own hugs, and some choice words which genuinely helped. I was terribly clingy and insecure but Sweetie was very patient (he really is SO kind). And shortly before I dropped off to sleep I had a very strong feeling of being carried, being prayed for. I don't know if it was these words from a friend that did it,
"Behold, he that keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep...
The Lord will preserve your going out and your coming in
From this time forth, for evermore"
or if there was some other trigger. But I am profoundly grateful, and I have kept coming back to echoes of that feeling over the past few days. It is intensely reassuring.

I'm also wondering how I can ever get things sorted out. I'm aware, you see, that I have a lot of reflection to do. This stuff I'm dealing with in brainhacking overlaps with some of my blogging here in fairly serious ways. There are issues around trust and abandonment and Eucharist and allowing myself to be fed, even if the church appears to be trying to limit access to God's table, and I find myself re-thinking my position on this in some ways which are rather scary to me. There are issues around abuse and intervention and how to respond now to people who once hurt me but no longer have that power, how to honour my parents, how to act in such a way that I have respect for myself without expecting that my actions can mend relationships that are deeply wounded.

Even though I am (moderately) anonymous, I don't know how much of this I can discuss here without maligning people who do not deserve it (and nobody deserves to be maligned). I don't want that to become an excuse for not doing the reflection, but neither do I want to speak ill of anyone. I need to be able to write about my own experiences but I also need to make it clear that these are just my experiences, that I do not have the whole picture and that I know I do not have the whole picture.

That doesn't go into the metrical psalmody from last night, or the stuff that's developing at Nearest Church, or the irony of the first person I went to church with in this country looking for a more inclusive church to attend, or my thoughts about same-gender partnerships and monogamy and my deep frustration that some parts of the church sanction these relationships if and only if they are life-long monogamy of a much higher standard than is expected of heterosexual partnerships. It doesn't touch on the big brown butterfly that flew around all our heads at the Eucharist this past Sunday morning, or the young man now deployed to Afghanistan.

I don't have time to blog it all.

Further updates as events warrant, I guess.

It's never quite simple, is it?

Went to Nearest Church again today.

The vicar was away and there were no smells but still bells. I'd never seen Communion by Extension before so it was interesting from that point of view. The sermon was given by the reader again -- I still haven't heard the vicar preach. But it was, while academic and erudite, a message of inclusion and hope.

I had a long chat with Networking Organist. Again. He does rather like to talk.

I can't go into a whole lot of detail here without destroying anonymity. But the situation at Nearest Church is not straightforward, and neither is the situation at Church-by-the-Station. Both are going through changes and transitions right now and nothing is stable.

Networking Organist has been generous and supportive, and has made clear on a number of occasions that I am welcome to make use of the resources at Nearest Church for my own education regardless of whether I end up in regular worship there. He also understands that I will get involved in the music wherever I end up and that it is important to me that I do not simply end up doing that as another part of my professional portfolio. He said, and I quote, "Any church you attend will find a way to use your musical skills, but I think you need to find your voice and develop your own role." I'm floored.

We spoke of the ways that might happen, and some of the obstacles to it at Nearest Church and elsewhere, and he reminded me again that I don't have to make any hasty decisions.

The path that seemed open last week, that of being involved musically at both churches, is looking clearer now. There is work for me to do at both. It remains to be seen whether Church-by-the-Station will be supportive.