At the October Evening Service in Billingsley, the talk was given by Jane Peeler, a Reader from the Bridgnorth group of parishes and also an Anna Chaplain. Anna Chaplains minister to the spiritual needs of the elderly; a lot of their work is with individuals with various memory problems. Sometimes dementia leaves the sufferer in a very dark place but this is not always the case. Jane told of one of the people she visits who has severe memory loss, but when asked when he was most happy, after a long pause, he replied “right now”.  

We often hear the phrase “living in the moment”. It can be trite; an attempt to distract from deep seated worries which may be very real and which will not go away. These do have to be faced. But in other contexts it takes on a different meaning. For Jane, the lesson was to give her friend her undivided attention at that instant, to share in his happiness as much as she could. Jesus also addressed this when he spoke about how we cannot add anything to our lives by worrying about the future. His point was that ultimately we can only trust to God; however difficult it is in the moment, however unreal it may seem at the time, the love of God is the only certainty that we have. Anna Chaplains are sustained by their trust in the unbreakable love of God and through this, they reach out to those they visit to help them find contentment and live fully in the moment. 

We have recently marked Michaelmas, the festival (or “feast” in church jargon) of St Michael and all the other angels. I think it still has significance in some calendars; when I was at university, the term between September and December was “Michaelmas”. Traditionally, St Michael is thought of as the leader of the Heavenly army; a warrior with a flaming sword.  

Today, I suspect some people are far happier believing in Angels than in God, or at least anything recognisable as orthodox Christianity. Films, songs and TV programmes celebrate guardian angels; someone supernatural who looks out for us but without the need for us to get involved in the messy, costly business of a death on a cross. In the Bible, angels first appear as messengers of God; the Hebrew for angel is the same as the word for messenger. God was considered so holy that nobody could look on him and live; angels provided a way for people to have a vision from God without the inconvenience of immediate death. They seem to have become more popular as Judaism interacted with neighbouring cultures and Christianity took this on, so we have the Angel host who performed before the shepherds to announce the birth of Jesus. 

For those of us of a liberal disposition in our faith, talk of angels can be sometimes a bit embarrassing; I was never sure what to make of a lady who said she saw an angel at Tuck Hill  Church in her youth. But alongside the lady recalling an event from 70 years previously are the poets and mystics who speak of seeing angels. I suspect that they are reminding the rationalists amongst us that there really is a spiritual realm that underlies the physical universe and it bursts out to reveal itself to us. I’m not too bothered about what actually happens when people talk of seeing an angel; all I know is that God is spirit and people encounter him in many ways, sometimes unaware. 

So last Saturday, on a day out at the Stoke Prior Traction Engine Rally, tiring a little of watching the duck herding in the main arena (seen it before), I wandered round the site and came across the Native American Camp. This is a display put on by Native Americans who have settled in this country and they use it to teach about their culture. For people of my generation, who only knew this from Cowboy and Indian films, not the most objective source, it was fascinating to get a more realistic perspective on everything from “war paint” (nothing to do with war) to the different dances. The leader of the group was a natural story-teller and at one point he launched into an anecdote about when he got a job to teach at a church school, with a priest in charge. I suspected this story would not reflect well on the priest and he did not come across as the most culturally sensitive of people. But I was not particularly bothered; I was much more interested in the story-teller’s own beliefs. He had a discussion with the priest about his faith; he believed in reincarnation of sorts, but he believed he would be reborn as the wind. Wherever the wind blew, there he would be, to bring comfort to those he loved. 

In the Old Testament, the word used to describe the spirit of God is ruach; but it also means breath or wind. In the New Testament, the Holy Spirit, the comforter, is described as like a mighty wind. There seems to be a fascinating convergence here, with two completely different belief systems finding something very spiritual in the movement of air, be it a breeze or a gale. Perhaps the story teller and the priest had more in common in their spirituality than either realised.

Thought for the Week, 17th September; Her Legacy and ours

Not surprisingly, the news this week has been dominated by the late Queen; this will continue until at least Monday with her funeral. As I write, people are queuing for 11 hours to file past her body; last night I was in Highley Church and was amazed at the number of notes attached to the prayer tree, remembering her. Yesterday I was talking to a number of people at my workplace; the Queen was held in deep respect by all of them, even those who would not call themselves royalists.   I do not know what will be said in the eulogy at her funeral, but it could easily focus on her qualities of duty and service. As a vicar, I of course have some experience of writing eulogies for funerals. This morning, “Thought for the Day” was about this subject. It had a line that I think explains, at least in part, why the Queen was held in such respect; “our legacy comes from the lives of all we have touched, for good or bad”. As a public figure, the Queen was very aware of the power of her words and actions and used them for the good, guided by her faith. For the rest of us, this acts as a challenge, to be forces for good to those whose lives we touch, either knowingly or unknowingly

There are times when the only response is prayer.

God of love,  

We thank you for the life of The Queen, 

for her service to our nation, 

and for her faith in you. 

Be close to all of us who mourn, 

that we may we find comfort and hope in your love, 

through Jesus Christ our Lord. 

Amen. 

Everlasting God, we pray for our new King. 

Bless his reign and the life of our nation. 

Help us to work together 

so that truth and justice, harmony and fairness 

flourish among us; 

through Jesus Christ our Lord. 

Amen. 

I am writing this reflection on 31^st August, the anniversary of the death of John Bunyan, the author of The Pilgrim’s Progress. I have a Victorian copy of this book, which somehow came from Mum’s side of the family on the Brown Clee. Needless to say, I’ve never read the book in its entirety, although when at school I used it for an essay on John Bunyan and I have dipped into it. The pilgrim is a man called Christian, who weighed down by his own sense of sin, embarks on a journey to the Celestial City which he believes will be the key to his salvation. In the journey he meets both friends and enemies, places of danger and encouragement. He barely makes it alive through the Slough of Despair; at Vanity Fair he rejects sensual pleasures. 

Bunyan was a Puritan, a Christian who took very seriously the issue of sin and personal salvation. It is a living tradition, although not one I personally find often speaks to me. However, I can recognise many of the emotions and experiences that Bunyan turned into his fictional places; I have been in the Slough of Despond, I have visited Vanity Fair and most fundamentally, I have struggled with faith and the apparent absence of God, which Bunyan equates to the result of sin. You do not have to buy into Bunyan’s theology to recognise what he is talking about; the personal spiritual desert where you cast around for any support. Bunyan’s message is fundamentally that this is part of life; our pilgrimage is to pass through it, in the knowledge that God is both our path and our destination.