St Stephen’s Church - South Dulwich

 

 

21 December 2008

On the fourth Sunday of Advent we traditionally remember the role of Mary in the incarnation. In honour of this, some Churches light a rose coloured advent candle and wear rose coloured vestments.

For well trained protestants such practices can be a step too far.  Formed as we are by inherited memories of the Reformation, the English have an in-built suspicion of any focus on Mary.

Well sorry - but without Mary, Christmas would be cancelled.  Indeed this is a good day to reflect on the fact that God chose to be born in this way and that Mary chose to say yes to the angel.  This biblical witness was studied by the early Councils of the Church which saw the role of Mary as ‘Theotokos’ the one who gave birth to God.  And that is a role in our salvation that it is worth pondering.  

But if this still sounds all too continental for you, let me leave you with some words from a very English poet and priest (and personal hero of mine) John Donne.  In his second Holy Sonnet he addresses Mary and reflects on the paradox of such a birth for the creator of the heavens;

“Ere by the spheres time was created, thou

Wast in his mind, who is thy son, and brother,

Whom thou conceiv’st, conceived; yea thou art now

Thy maker’s maker, and thy Father’s mother,

Thou hast light in dark; and shutt’st in little room,

Immensity cloistered in thy dear womb.”

Nick Davies - Curate

14 December 2008

Celebrating Advent means learning how to wait. Waiting is an art which our impatient age has forgotten. We want to pluck the fruit before it has had time to ripen. Greedy eyes are soon disappointed when what they saw as luscious fruit is sour to the taste. In disappointment and disgust they throw it away. The fruit, full of promise, rots on the ground. It is rejected without thanks by disappointed hands.

The blessedness of waiting is lost on those who cannot wait, and the fulfilment of the promise is never theirs…

Who has not felt the anxieties of waiting for the declaration of friendship or love? The greatest, the deepest, the most tender experiences in all the world demand patient waiting…

Not all can wait—certainly not those who are satisfied, contented, and feel that they live in the best of all possible worlds! Those who learn to wait are uneasy about their way of life, but yet have seen a vision of greatness in the world of the future and are patiently expecting its fulfilment. The celebration of Advent is only possible to those who are troubled in soul, who know themselves to be poor and imperfect, and who look forward to something greater to come.”

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, murdered at Flossenburg concentration camp 9 April 1945

7 December 2008

What are we waiting for?

Advent is a time of waiting, but waiting for what?  Sometimes one feels that one’s whole life is spent waiting in one way or another: waiting to grow up, waiting to leave home, waiting to find a job, waiting to fall in love, waiting to have children, waiting to have enough money to go on a decent holiday, waiting to get over a long illness or a bereavement, waiting just to feel a bit better, and finally waiting to die.  Is waiting for Christ’s ‘appearance’ in Advent like that?

Yes and no.  Yes, because somewhere deep in us is a wellspring of desire that seems to motivate all the other, nagging, wants we have and that only Christ can fill; so that all the restlessness we feel in the other longings is underneath a terrible yearning for the One ‘in whom all our desires are satisfied’ - the human face of God.  But no, too, because this waiting isn’t like the endlessly disappointed gratification of the other longings:  He is always on offer, always pressing on us from unexpected quarters, but - as Jesus puts it intriguingly - always too ‘coming at an unexpected hour’.  Advent then isn’t just waiting (in the ordinary sense) for Christmas; it’s a preparation of a different order - an invitation to look at all our ‘waitings’ and wonder at what desire finally propels them all.  If it is truly Christ that we long for, then He is already standing at the door.  Our task, and prayer, is to welcome Him, to invite Him in.

Revd Sarah Coakley, Professor of Theology, Cambridge

30 November 2008 

If you were left in a room with a plate of marshmallows and asked not to touch them, what would you do?  I know my answer.  

Apparently this was a serious experiment conducted with children in the 1960s.  Tracking them in later life, scientists concluded that those who could wait turned out to be more successful.  Well now we have a similar experiment, right here in Church.

Sorry, there are no marshmallows- but I can offer you the season of advent which starts today.  Advent invites us to wait, before we enjoy the celebration of Christmas.  Looking down the high street or flicking through our own diaries may make this seem a forlorn hope. 

Despite this background noise, however, Advent demands patience;  patience to wait for the coming of Christ at Christmas and patience to wait for his return at the end of time and the ultimate fulfilment of the Kingdom of Heaven.

I have never been very good at waiting but according to one new book, it is an important Christian virtue.  ‘The meaning is in the waiting’, says Paula Gooder in her book of the same name, containing daily reflections for advent.  Through such active waiting, she suggests that we can learn to savour the present moment, to recollect God’s promises from the past and to yearn for their ultimate fulfilment in the future.

As a gentle chant from the Taizé community puts it:  “Wait for the Lord, whose day is near, wait for the Lord, keep watch, take heart!

Nick Davies - Curate

23 November 2008

This Sunday, the last Sunday of the Christian year, we meet Jesus as Christ our king, ruler over all things earthly and heavenly. 

In western Christianity we have not really known what to do with this image of Christ as king, but in the orthodox churches of the east, the icon of Christ the Pantocrator (ruler over all things) is one of the key images through which Christ is known.  In this depiction Christ holds the book of the Gospels in his left hand and blesses with his right hand. 

The icon (Pantocrator of Sinai) portrays Christ as the Righteous Judge and the Lover of Mankind, both at the same time. The Gospel is the book by which we are judged, and the blessing proclaims God’s loving kindness toward us, showing us that he is giving us his forgiveness.

Although ruler of all, Christ is not pictured with a crown or sceptre as other kings of this world. The large open eyes look directly into the soul of the viewer. The high curved forehead shows wisdom. The long slender nose is a look of nobility, the small closed mouth, the silence of contemplation. 

The oldest known Pantocrator icon is preserved from the sixth century. It is used and kept in the monastery of St. Catherine in the Sinai desert.   Icons from this location are currently on show in the Royal Academy of Arts Byzantine exhibition.

- Bernhard Schunemann

16 November 2008

Once upon a time there was an Abbot of a monastery.  This Abbot was becoming a bit disheartened about the state of his monastery.  Major repairs were needed, the place could do with being painted, the gardens were not tended very beautifully, and, what was the worst of it, some of the monks were beginning to drift away.

The Abbot decided to go into the nearest town to consult with some of the other religious leaders in the town. He knocked on the Rabbi’s door, and when the Rabbi saw the disconsolate and sorrowful figure on his doorstep he asked him in and gave him a cup of tea.  The Abbot began to tell him all his worries, he painted a gloomy picture of his monastery, and when he had finished he was hoping very much that the Rabbi could give him some advice.  But the Rabbi remained silent.  Finally the Abbot asked him, ‘haven’t you got any ideas of how one could get some new energy into that old monastery of mine?’  And the Rabbi shook his head and confessed to him that he had no idea at all.  Just as he was leaving the Rabbi said, ‘there is just one thing, I have heard that the Messiah has re-appeared in your monastery’.

When the Abbot got back all the monks were waiting whether he was coming back with some new ideas.  But he told them that no one had had any ideas.  Only an old Rabbi had told him that he had heard that the Messiah had come back and was to be found in our monastery.  The monks were mystified, and each one began to reflect about the monk next to them.  They began to take notice of each other.  Was it old brother Abelard? or, was it our Father Abbot, he is not particularly dynamic, but he has served us pretty well all these years.  Slowly and surely the place began to wake up: monks were listening to each other.  Some of the younger monks, who had left, were coming back.  And bit by bit the place started thriving again.

- Bernhard Schünemann (word of mouth story)

 

9 November 2008

In my day, we as children used to chant remember remember the fifth of November of gunpowder treason and plot.  We were chanting something which meant little to us, of a plot to destroy the king and parliament hundreds of years before we were born. 

Today, we remember those who died in two world wars – some 90 and 69 years ago long before some of us were born.  So today we must now think and remember of those who died in the Falklands and of those who have died and indeed are still dying in Afghanistan and Iraq.  We should remember, not only our gallant and courageous troops but also those innocent civilians, men, women and children who have been caught up in the conflicts. 

My outstanding memory is the awful sight as, standing on the top of my tank I clanked my way into Hamburg in 1945.  The sight of wretched ragged figures emerging from holes in the ground and the sight of a city reduced to piles of rubble – a wilderness – a scene of destruction such as I had never before seen. Thus, this year let us remember, not only those soldiers of 1914/1918 and 1935/1945, but the soldiers of more recent and living memory and all the civilians who have died as a result of war.

- George Key – 9 November 2008

 

2 November 2008

Today is Bible Sunday. This year, it has coincidedwith the Bible Society’s translation of the Bible into Caribbean patois.

Whilst some traditionalists may disapprove one local pastor, on hearing the story of the stilling of the storm, said “I can see it! For the first time, I can see it! It was like I was there.” See if you can follow this famous passage…

“Di man se, ‘Lov di Laad Yu Gad wid aal yu aat, yu suol, schrent an main, an lov yu nieba laik ou yu lov yuself.”

Reading the Bible is a central part of our Christian life- or it should be. We all have Bibles, we hear Scripture read on Sunday but how much it informs our lives is another matter. We read so much each week; books, papers, adverts, magazines, documents for work but how often do we sit down to read our Bible?

Well, help is at hand with a new pocket size set of Bible notes written by mainstream Anglicans which is accessible and has reflections for daily prayer. All suitable for reading while commuting or for your post-school run moment of calm. ‘Reflections for Daily Prayer’ is published by Church House Publishing (020 7898 1451) and costs just £3.99. I have put some copies on the bookshelf by the Church door. Do have a look and perhaps buy a copy for the weeks leading up to Christmas.

St. Jerome, who first translated he Bible into Latin put it this way: “I beg you, my dearest brothers, to live among these sacred books, to meditate on them, to know nothing else, to seek nothing else. Does it not seem to you to be a little bit of heaven here on earth?”

- Nick Davies, Curate

 

26 October 2008

Almost anything that can be said about prayer can sound pious or it can fill us with guilt. But ultimately we learn about prayer only through experience and sometimes from the experience of others. As we can see from the words below (quoted anonymously in the Oxford Book of Prayer) even the word “I” can be a good word to use in prayer:

I asked for strength that I might achieve;
I was made weak that I might learn humbly to obey.
I asked for health that I might do greater things;
I was given infirmity that I might do better things;
I asked for riches that I might be happy;
I was given poverty that I might be wise.
I asked for power that I might have the praise of men;
I was given weakness that I might feel my need of God.
I asked for all things that I might enjoy life;
I was given life that might enjoy all things.
I received nothing that I asked for;
But everything that I had hoped for.
Almost despite myself my unspoken prayers were answered;
I am, amongst all men, most richly blessed.

- Bernhard Schünemann

19 October 2008

This week the Church remembers several important ‘martyrs’ amongst them Nicholas Ridley and Hugh Latimer. They were both Bishops, important figures in the English reformation and ultimately victims of it’s tumultuous politics.

Their legacy to the English Church is significant. Ridley was Chaplain to Cranmer when he was Archbishop of Canterbury and had an important influence on the Book of Common Prayer. Meanwhile, Latimer was a great preacher and eventually became Bishop of Worcester.

Eventually, when Mary Tudor came to the throne and restored Roman Catholicism, both Ridley and Latimer were burned at the stake in Oxford. According to tradition the older Latimer cried out to Ridley as the flames grew higher, “Be of good comfort master Ridley, and play the man. We shall this day light such a candle by God’s grace in England, as I trust shall never be put out.” Over four hundred years on, it seems his final wish was granted.

Today, we understand martyrs to be those who have died for their faith or for a cause. Interestingly, the ancient Greek word, ‘martyros’ refers to ‘a witness’. It was only later within the life of the persecuted early Church that it became clear that to be such a witness sometimes called for the ultimate sacrifice.

St. Paul tells us that we must all stand ready to give an account of what he describes as “the hope that lies within”. So whilst none of us are likely to be martyrs, all of us are called to be witnesses.

- Nick Davies
12 October 2008

Today a young child by the name of Daniel is receiving Holy Baptism in our main parish service. For a while now we have had many more children taking part in and enriching our worship. There is no doubt that this has an impact on how we can worship and how we can pray in this church.

As so often we could do worse than listening to the words of Jesus on this matter: ‘“Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.” And he took them up in his arms, laid his hands on them, and blessed them’ (Mark 10,14b-16).

The picture (above) is actually a large and very colourful oil painting entitled with these words of Jesus (1910) by the artist Emil Nolde. The light emanating from the children hugged and blessed by Jesus mysteriously illuminates the darkness of the adults who are described as stern in their ignorance. The children reach up to him, excited and full of expectation.

What is it that sometimes prevents us from receiving this cleansing illumination of God’s kingdom in our lives?

- Bernhard Schünemann

5 October 2008

Harvest Festival

While some of us may have gardens, some even may have an allotment, most of us don’t plough the fields and scatter any more. And yet ‘Harvest Festival’ seems to be one of the most important observances in our annual church calendar. It feels as fixed and as important as Christmas and Easter. In the Church of England it has only been a church event for about 130 years. It goes back to an eccentric Cornish Vicar by the name of Hawker, who took the liturgical year into his own hands and introduced a Harvest Thanksgiving Sunday for his rural congregation in Morwenstow in Cornwall.

And yet religion itself, let alone our Christian Faith, has its roots in people’s desire to give thanks for the apparent miracle of a good harvest. The fruits of fertility, the mysterious way in which nature propagates itself so abundantly, have always been regarded as a sign of God’s goodness. The Old Testament is full of praise and descriptions of such thanksgiving festivals.

We still sing the hymns, we still bring the miraculous produce, we still want to thank God, but most of us are far removed from the processes which are between the ploughed field and the full plate on our tables. And most of us, living - as we do - in the middle of Europe’s biggest city, would be shocked to learn the details of industrial food production which goes into making up what we finally eat.

Harvest thanksgiving is about giving thanks to God for all our productivity, which supports or sustains our lives. But it is also a new commitment on our behalf that we want to live up to the vocation of being good stewards of God’s fertile resources, rather than destroyers of the same.

For Jesus ‘harvest’ was a metaphor for the drawing near of God’s Kingdom, the breaking in of God’s judgement, terrible and merciful, world changing and unimaginably generous.

- Bernhard Schunemann

28 September 2008

As the bell peals at St Stephen’s this Sunday morning fifteen of the congregation will be answering the same call to prayer at the Shrine of Our Lady at Walsingham, a truly beautiful spot on the North Norfolk coast.

Its beauty is not just in the luscious landscape of sea and sky that surrounds the Shrine. It’s also within the rich texture of the Shrine itself. The flint and brickwork of the buildings, the hospitality of the custodians of the holy place together with the purpose of pilgrimage combine to make it all especially memorable and meaningful.

Pilgrimage is an important part of life and living a Christian journey. It opens the opportunity for shared travel experiences – Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales perhaps spring to mind. A group of 14th century pilgrims who shared their stories as they travelled from Southwark to Canterbury.

We too will meet with fellow pilgrims. With them we will share the sacred feast at the Holy table. We will share stories and as fellow travellers on our Christian journeys be enriched by the sharing of prayers and spiritual experiences. But we are all pilgrims whether at home or away. As 21st century pilgrims we all have stories to tell and prayers to share.

When morning gilds the skies, The sacred minster bell

My heart awakening cries It peals o’er hill and dell,

May Jesus Christ be praised: May Jesus Christ be praised:

Alike at work and prayer O hark to what it sings,

To Jesus I repair; As joyously it rings,

May Jesus Christ be praised. May Jesus Christ be praised.

German 19th Century; Tr Edward Caswall

- Trot Lavelle (Reader)

 

21 September 2008

14 September is HOLY CROSS day. The cross on which our saviour died replaced the fish as the universal symbol of allegiance to Christ (though the fish has recently come back into fashion). Helena, mother of the first Christian Roman Emperor, is said to have found the original cross while digging in Jerusalem and she built the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, which was dedicated on this day in the year 335. This is the prayer for the day:

Almighty God, who in the passion of your blessed Son made an instrument of painful death to be for us the means of life and peace: grant to us to glory in the cross of Christ that we may gladly suffer for his sake; who is alive and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. - Amen.

On Wednesday (17 September) we are commemorating the day of Hildegard of Bingen. She was mystic, composer, foundress of monasteries and Christian leader. All her life she suffered from serious illness and she died in 1179. Her music is some of the earliest music ever performed at a recent Prom concert. The prayer for her day is:

Most glorious and holy God, whose servant Hildegard, strong in the faith, was caught up in a vision of your heavenly courts: by the breath of your spirit open our eyes to glimpse your glory and our lips to sing your praises with all the angels; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who is alive and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. – Amen.

- Bernhard Schünemann

14 September 2008

This week (11 September) will see the seventh anniversary of the unprecedented attacks on the World Trade Centre and Washington through the great inhumanity of terrorism. At the time we were told that the world will never be the same again. And yet during the last seven years strenuous efforts have been made to resume life in much the same vein as it had been lived before these events.

But all seem to agree that forgetting and resuming normal service is not an option. There is something Christians can and must do on occasions of remembering like this. First of all we can pray. We can pray for the souls of all those who have died, most of them completely unprepared, and many of them leaving behind them grieving wives, husbands, children, parents and friends. As religious people we must also acknowledge that these terrible, terrible deeds were committed in the name of religion.

Our world has become a very confusing place. Many people turn to religious fundamentalism to give content and meaning to their lives and young men especially find the idea of dying as heroes or martyrs for their religion attractive. We need to examine our own faith: does it give content to our lives, does it answer the deep spiritual longings of those around us?

And finally we may remind ourselves of the words of our Lord Jesus as he spoke them in his famous Sermon on the Mount (especially Matthew chapter 5!): “blessed are the peacemakers” and “turn the other cheek”. This is not just ‘doing nothing’, but neither is it answering violence with violence. Christians want to break the cycle of violence, they want to introduce a new language, they want to speak of love, of trust and of justice.

We don’t necessarily need to speak this language with words, but we need to spread it by living. All our lives offer opportunities for this kind of quiet, daily heroism!

7 September 2008

This week we have our bell back. It is not yet in the belfry where it belongs and where it will be re-located after this Sunday’s services, it is in fact standing on two logs in the middle of the church where wedding couples normally stand to make their promises. It cannot ring today, but at least we can see it from the comfort of our pews, once it hangs in the tower it may not come down again for another 150 years, which is how long it lasted before it needed this its first refurbishment now completed. During the 10am service today we will re-dedicate and bless this bell, hoping and longing that it will become again a central instrument of our mission, the words of these blessing prayers were composed by our curate Nick Davies and the special verse of the hymn was written by Dr Teresa Morgan:

We all reach out our hands towards the bell and say together…

Creator God,
Bless this bell we pray.
Let it sing your praise and witness to your power and glory.
May it ring with joy in times of gladness,
And toll our sorrow in times of sadness.
And may it stir the hearts and call to worship
The people of this parish.

The bell will then be anointed and the bell and congregation are blessed for mission of the church

August 31 2008

What do a Church and a helicopter have in common?

It doesn’t matter how far back you stand, eventually you get sucked in by the rotas.

Apparently, the dreaded rotas and being asked to volunteer are one of the biggest fears of those visiting a new Church. But rotas may well be a necessary evil for getting things done. I have to say since arriving at St Stephens, I’ve been struck by how many people give generously of their time and talents.

In my experience rotas need three things to be successful. Firstly, people need to volunteer. Secondly, they need to turn-up. Thirdly, volunteers need to be allowed to step down when circumstances change.

This morning’s reading from Romans puts all of this into a Gospel context. For Paul, everyone in the Church has gifts and when we offer them to God it is part of our worship, as much as our singing and our prayers. For this is our spiritual sacrifice, a natural outworking of our thankfulness to God and a sign of our fellowship with one another.

At theological college, we spent a lot of time studying worship often reading great tomes on ancient aspects of ‘liturgy’. One of the more interesting facts that I discovered during these sessions was that one meaning of the Greek word ‘liturgeo’ is the ‘work or service of the whole people of God’. So next time you mark your diary for your turn to read, serve, intercede, arrange flowers or brew the coffee, remember- it’s not just a rota, it’s part of our worship.

August 2008

During the month of August the Sunday Gospel readings are extracts from chapters 14 to16 of St Matthew’s Gospel.  Many people see these chapters as Jesus laying down the foundation of the church.  As we would expect Jesus is not doing this by giving his disciples a ready made constitution a blue print mainly to satisfy bureaucrats of the Charity Commission or the managers of the Lambeth Conference.  No – instead – Jesus takes his friends on a hectic journey through Northern Palestine.  They are in and out of boats, up and down mountains, listening to sermons and witnessing miracles.  He teaches them about who he really is.  He warns them about hypocrisy.  He performs numerous healings especially on people whom the disciples would rather have him ignore.  He miraculously feeds thousands of followers.  He walks on water (and encourages Peter also to do so!).  And finally he reveals that all this will lead to his own suffering and glorification. Yes, let us not forget his glorification (chapter 17, especially celebrated in August as the festival of the Transfiguration on Wednesday 6 August).  What emerges from these pages is not a picture of the church as an institution but the church as a band of people.  People restlessly seeking a deeper understanding of Jesus as healer, teacher and saviour.  A group of people being on the one hand coaxed and encouraged and on the other hand set on fire with enthusiasm.  The church as a group of people that ultimately is to glow with the unspeakable glory of the cross.