situation ethics

A journey into town for a mid-year diary yielded one bit of fish, one pint of milk, one rescued dog, and an interesting conversation about God (but no diary).

As I went into the Co-op for something green, a young woman jumped out of her van and called to me urgently. She tugged at a bracelet till it showed the familiar: W.W.J.D. ‘Sorry, could you help me… could you tell me: what’s the D for?’

So I told her and asked if a friend had given it to her (yes), then began to explain the idea. Seeing the bracelet reminds us to slow down a bit, to think before we do something: ‘what would Jesus do?’

And she said, ‘Oh, I know how it works. I use it all the time. I just forgot the words. It’s really important to stop and think about Jesus — to think about what Jesus wants, what Jesus would do.’ And then we laughed about those times when asking the question led to the equally familiar question: ‘well, what would he do?’ It’s not always clear

And off she went, laughing and smiling.

She clearly doesn’t go to church — I had the feeling she’d been looking for someone to ask for a long time. But God matters to her. She wants Jesus to be involved with her life

It’s people like her we need to catch, if only we could find the right bait.

God’s good timing

Splendid service this morning with the bishop commissioning the lay team for the various roles.  Or at least, I am assured that it was.  I was too busy trying not to cough to notice much.

The treasurer did later ask if trainee priests were taught how to drink Lem Sip surrepticiously throughout the service.  He seems not to have noticed the liturgical use of hand-sanitizer before the peace and again before shaking hands at the end of the service.

And then, I left them all still laughing and talking with the bishop, so that I could get to Tighnabruaich in time for the next service.  But thankfully, I noticed my anwering machine flashing:  one of this afternoon’s congregation, saying that everyone else was away or ill, and that she more than willing to go to the Church of Scotland service tonight, and that I should stay home.  Usually, when it’s just one or two there, I say ‘no, no, that’s all right.  I’ll be there.’  But today (cough, cough) I simply said ‘thank you’ and counted my blessings.

That tiny congregation shows me a far greater level of pastoral care than I show them.

And — added benefit — this gives me a few hours clear to think about the Christmas carol service.  I’m already running eight weeks behind with it.

Or I could clean the house…

Hmm.  Which shall it be?

(ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha)
Dashing through the snow (tra-la-la)…

here comes the sun

4th of July BBQ

Those of you who have had the misfortune of seeing me lately will know that I have been having what my parents used to call a ‘grumpy day’. All week. I have been frustrated by what seems to be happening in the Anglican Communion; bewildered by the ease with which Gafcon seems to be claiming ‘plain readings’ of scripture, the 39 articles, and the 1662 prayer book as the clear standards of faith; and repeatedly tempted to despair over the future of the church.

But not today.

Today, the church was out in all its glorious eccentricity. Five year olds building sand castles, 89 year olds playing cricket, normally sensible adults wearing silly hats and flower lays and even a Hawaiian shirt. We played boules and Frisbee. We gathered in passing tourist from Australia and Germany, and a few locals (yes, I am counting the dogs) and ended the evening by passing our fire and marshmallows on to a family group from Dunoon who were just setting up camp.

At last a reminder of why we hold onto church (and not just God) despite all the nonsense.

holy, holy, holy

If you have not yet read Bishop Brian’s recent lecture on the Anglican Communion, it is well worth doing so. Plan time for it. It’s not one for multi-tasking.

It is one of the most sensible and interesting perspectives I’ve come across recently, and I want to recommend it rather than take issue with it. So think of what follows as a digressive thought, rather than a challenge per se. Oh, and although this may look like an essay, please think of it as ‘early draft’.

Early on in the lecture +Brian offers a summary of the clusters of values which can be seen to be operative in the current debates of the church. The first approach he describes as a ‘debate for the extension of the claims of natural justice’: an approach which he says characterizes many liberals in the West. The second approach he describes as being ‘concerned with the development of holiness, in relation to which a bibilically grounded sexual ethic is of vital importance.’ He says this approach prevails among many evangelicals in the West.

I’d like to extend that category.

For me — who might in many ways be classed with the first group, the ‘question’ of a Christian understanding of homosexuality is very much a question of how the church can help people move towards holiness. And to that end, a bibilically grounded sexual ethic is indeed vitally important, though perhaps not as clear cut as some of the ‘evangelical West’ +Brian referred to may claim.

Holiness is a word that drives to the heart of the sacred. It can only be defined or described in relation to the being of God. We encounter holiness as we encounter God: Moses stands on ground made holy by the presence of God; God’s people come to know him as the Holy One of Israel; and as they learn what it means to live in relation to this God, they learn to hear God say ‘You shall be holy for I the LORD your God am holy’ (Lev 19, etc). In that understanding of the law, the holiness tradition begins: be holy for I am holy. It is an early intuition that in time leads Israel to understand that they are made in the image of God, and an early experience of the meeting point of human and divine life that finds its fulfillment of Christ.

So, we cannot let Holiness be claimed as the preserve of any one part of the church. It is part of our foundation.

If holiness begins and ends with God, then it is only ever ours provisionally. It is ours in reflection, maybe. Ours insofar as we are allowed to share in the Divine Life. But holiness itself is defined by God’s being. It is what God is in Godself. It is therefore inherently elusive; both beyond our grasp, and eternally ‘other’.

Beyond our grasp, but not necessarily beyond our reach. Holiness is something God allows us to share and partake in. But we need to be wary of thinking we can hold it tight.

If Holiness begins with who and what God is, then our human, responsive holiness must surely also be grounded in who and what we are. To whatever extent we share in holiness, we must relate to holiness from the truth of our being. Which is easier said than done.

Our self-knowledge is never perfect. It is often elusive. And it should never be static. But we believe that in Christ, we can come to know ourselves better, more truly, as the beloved of God. So holiness begins with the ‘most true’ things we can say about ourselves, and the ‘most true’ things that can be said about us. Holiness is a learning to live out of that place, as we respond to God. It is therefore more a process and an approach to being than it is a ‘state of being’ which we have achieved. It is a way of directing our longing always towards God, always towards the good, always towards our best understanding of what we are called to be.

Living in holiness is about finding a meeting point between the truth of who we are and the truth of God. It is about letting ourselves be made in the likeness of Christ.

OK, so what has that to do with current debates on sexuality? Continue reading “holy, holy, holy”