as it should be

Today saw the first of our ‘training days’ for those involved with leading worship in Rothesay (those who read, lead prayers, and officiate at Mattins). I take it for granted that it is always worthwhile to reflect on what we are doing, talk about what works and what doesn’t, and see if we can learn to do things better. But I realise that for some, any talk of ‘training’ is problematic — they either interpret it as a vote of no confidence in what is already happening, or it reminds them of school.

But today there was a wonderful reminder of why it is so important. The readers gathered — or rather, a few of the readers gathered — only for me to discover that one member of the congregation had skills in voice training and public speaking far beyond anything I had imagined.

It is such a joy to gather a congregation for training and reflection only to find that I learned far more than I taught.

choose life

I’ve just returned from Prize Giving for S4 at Dunoon Grammar School. There was a mix of awards for academic achievement, improvement and (most wonderful of all, I thought) for those who most significantly surpassed what had been expected of them. We had contributions from an excellent piper, a couple of rappers, a dance group, a vocalist and some cheerleaders. Oh, and some noble words from the head and the guest speakers…

Being in a school for any length of time always leaves me marvelling at the wealth of talent young people seem to possess. And it makes me wonder: where does it go? Why are there so few adults who maintain the diversity of skills, the passionate enthusiasm that most young people seem to have naturally?

If I think back to my years as a teacher, the only kids who didn’t manifest joy and enthusiasm were those who had already been worn down by circumstances. They were often just as bright as their classmates and did perfectly well at school, but the energy that should have gone into creativity and laughter went into the mechanics of survival.

Is that what happens to so many adults? Are we so busy surviving that we forget how to live?

The first time I took part in an Ignatian retreat, my spiritual director sent me off to pray with Deuteronomy 30:

Surely, this commandment that I am commanding you today is not too hard for you, nor is it too far away. It is not in heaven, that you should say, “Who will go up to heaven for us, and get it for us so that we may hear it and observe it?” Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, “Who will cross to the other side of the sea for us, and get it for us so that we may hear it and observe it?” No, the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe. See, I have set before you today life and prosperity, death and adversity. … Choose life so that you and your descendants may live.

At the time, I found the passage frustrating. All well and good telling us to choose life, but how do we actually do it?

But I now think that the how doesn’t matter so much. Choose life, choose laughter, choose creativity, choose love… choose whatever you need to to let go of the need simply to survive.

Learning Curve

Today has been a day of teaching and learning: learning my way around wordpress, figuring out how to register a domain name and set up email forwarding, and trying to teach the basics of biblical criticism in two hours or less.

Learning is so basic to our growth as people and our growth in Christ. And sometimes I think it doesn’t matter what we learn, so long as we are learning something: stretching our understanding and reaching just beyond our grasp.

For me, the excitement of a concept that dances just on the edge of consciousness reminds me of the early stages of coming to faith. God was a bewildering concept — an idea that belonged to other people, rather like the knot theory I learned as a friend spoke of her dissertation over late night cups of cocoa. Then all of a sudden, God was there: a glimmer of hope on the edge of consciousness. A vague awareness that would not go away.

The business of growing in faith is the business of getting used to the feeling of not-quite understanding. It is a matter of questioning and learning and deepening our awareness, only to find that God is as elusive as ever — still so far beyond our grasp. And that is why God is exciting. God is always calling us beyond ourselves, always opening us to something new.

And if the mechanics of wordpress and html can serve as a reminder of that, so much the better.