Go simply with your possessions

Judas, the Betrayer.  Not your usual subject for a series of reflections.  But perhaps Judas wasn’t so dissimilar to the rest of us.  Was he just an enthusiastic radical, looking for something new, longing for justice and liberation?

 

Tomorrow starts the second week in Lent.  As we spend this week journeying with Judas,

Let’s commit ourselves to inner and outer simplicity,

letting go our ‘right’ to self-fulfillment

while our façade covers up our poverty of spirit;

setting aside our ‘right’ to affluence

while there are still those who live in abject poverty.

 

Click here to go to this week’s meditations

Ash Wednesday: Go simply in belief and faith

Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday, the start of Lent.

In the first week of our Lent meditations, we journey with the Apostle Thomas.

Doubting Thomas.

Honest Thomas.

The apostle who wasn’t afraid to express his doubts, his uncertainties, the dilemmas of belief.

Over this week we will explore some of our own doubts and questions, and live with these frustrations.

And we will ask Jesus for the grace of peace.

Click here to go to this week’s Lent meditations.

cloud of unknowing

 

Go simply with yourself

Tomorrow begins the third week in Lent.  During this week we will journey with Mary Magdalene: Mary, the one afflicted by seven demons; Mary, the one set free; Mary, the one whose name Jesus spoke – tenderly, lovingly.

 

We are invited to simply be ourselves,

not needing an exciting lifestyle, busy schedules,

comfort foods, or approving relationships

in order to know and live out

our belovedness,

our true identity, our worth, our life tasks.

 

Click here to go to this week’s meditations

 

alabaster1-240-low

 

 

 

 

Child abuse in fact and fiction: Seminar notes from ethics and children’s literature event, Warwick University, 2015

 

Peter Pan

All children, except one, grow up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So said JM Barrie in the opening words of Peter Pan. Only it isn’t true. The reality is that far too many children never get the opportunity to grow up; or have to grow up before their time; or find that childhood isn’t the wonderful experience portrayed by Peter Pan, and all because of abuse or neglect suffered at the hands of their parents.

 

james 1Right from the beginning they started beating him for almost no reason at all. They never called him by his real name, but always referred to him as ‘you disgusting little beast’ or ‘you filthy nuisance’ or ‘you miserable creature’… His room was as bare as a prison cell.

 

Roald Dahl. James and the Giant Peach, p8.

 

 

victoria climbieThe food would be cold and would be given to her on a piece of plastic while she was tied up in the bath. She would eat it like a dog, pushing her face to the plate. Except, of course that a dog is not usually tied up in a plastic bag full of its excrement.

Neil Garnham, QC – Victoria Climbié Inquiry

 

Victoria spent much of her last days, in the winter of 1999–2000, living and sleeping in a bath in an unheated bathroom, bound hand and foot inside a bin bag, lying in her own urine and faeces. It is not surprising then that towards the end of her short life, Victoria was stooped like an old lady and could walk only with great difficulty

He found the cause of death to be hypothermia, which had arisen in the context of malnourishment, a damp environment and restricted movement. He also found 128 separate injuries on Victoria’s body, showing she had been beaten with a range of sharp and blunt instruments. No part of her body had been spared. Marks on her wrists and ankles indicated that her arms and legs had been tied together.

Child abuse is a reality, an unimaginable reality, for many children. A reality that goes way beyond the imagined worlds we see in children’s fiction.

 

These notes are from a seminar I gave recently on child abuse and children’s literature.  I’d be really interested in any views/comments on the issues raised.

Continue reading Child abuse in fact and fiction: Seminar notes from ethics and children’s literature event, Warwick University, 2015

February 10th

‘I am the resurrection and the life.’

David’s words boomed down the church.

David’s words?  Jesus’ words?

‘I am the resurrection and the life.’

His powerful voice seemed to fill every corner of the building, rising to the medieval doom painting above us, echoing round the massive stone pillars, projecting up to the towering spire and forward to the far east window, where a stained glass Jesus hung on a stained glass cross.  The author of those words hanging, lifeless before us.

He only said the words once, and yet they reverberated round and round, floating over the heads of the motionless, shimmering blur of people who filled the pews; drumming through me so that I didn’t hear the other words that followed as we followed David down the aisle.

‘I am the resurrection and the life.’

I had heard those words so many times before.  As a child in Sunday School, hearing the wonderful tale of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead.  Sitting in so many services as the words of the gospel were read.  ‘This is the gospel of Christ.’  ‘Thanks be to God.’  Even at funerals – of friends and family members.  But never like this.  As a teenager I had sung those words, thoughtlessly clapping an inane beat after each line of one of our favourite youth group songs: ‘I am the resurrection’ (clap) ‘I am the life’ (clap-clap, clap-clap) ‘he who believes in me shall never-er die’ (clap, clap-clap).  Oh how we’d loved those Saturday evenings, full of fun, untouched by the reality of this world’s pain.  Joining in, keen to be part of the crowd, inspired with the youthful enthusiasm of a shared faith that would carry us through thick and thin.  Oblivious to the real impact of those seven words.

‘I am the resurrection and the life.’

Words of hope.  Words of immense, grave-shattering power.

Words of utter despair.

~

Continue reading February 10th

Go Simply: Reflections for Lent

Sandals croppedA series of Lenten reflections to attend to our doing and being, the active and contemplative

 

 

 

 

Traditionally, there are 40 days of Lent, from Ash Wednesday to Holy Saturday (not counting the Sundays of Lent), which means February 18 to April 4 in 2015.  Starting from Ash Wednesday, 18th February, we will be posting a series of reflections for the seven weeks of Lent.  Each week explores a different aspect of simplicity, and focuses on someone, or some people who featured in Jesus’ life.

These reflections take the form of a simple liturgy for the week, with five readings to help you be still in God’s presence: to pause; to listen; to be.

 

The seven weeks

Week One: Go simply in your belief – Thomas’ Journey

Week Two: Go simply with your possessions – Judas’ Journey

Week Three: Go simply with yourself – Mary Magdalene’s Journey

Week Four: Go simply in your lifestyle – With the Bethany Family, Mary, Martha and Lazarus

Week Five: Go simply within your culture – Nicodemus’ Journey

Week Six: Go simply in your vocation – With Mary, Jesus’ Mother

Week Seven: Go simply in your spirit – With Joanna and the women who accompanied Jesus

 

 

Living in the Gap (A Poem for Helen)

Helen cropped

 

 

We are living in the gap

between the way things are

and the way they will be.

 

 

 

 

 

We are living in the gap

between starving children

and MTV,

living in the gap

between military budgets

and illiteracy.

 

We are living in the gap

between the world that’s coming,

and this world we see

“No more crying then,

No more dying then

No more sighing then”.

 

But in this mean time,

our arms are stretched

to breaking point

trying to hold onto

something, anything

in this gap between

hope and pain

this gap between

you and me,

this gap in our lives

where you had been.

 

Kristin Jack, June 2012

 

Publications: 2014

Sidebotham, P. (2014) What did you do at work today, Daddy?  Child Abuse Review. 23(5): 307-310

Garstang, J., Griffiths, F., Sidebotham, P. (2014). “What do bereaved parents want from professionals after the sudden death of their child: a systematic review of the literature.” BMC Pediatr 14: 269.

Hunter, L., Sidebotham, P., Appleton R., Dunkley C. (2014). “A review of the quality of care following prolonged seizures in 1-18 year olds with epilepsies.” Seizure. DOI 10.1016/j.seizure.2014.09.001

Blair, P. S., Sidebotham P., Pease A., Fleming PJ. (2014). “Bed-Sharing in the Absence of Hazardous Circumstances: Is There a Risk of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome? An Analysis from Two Case-Control Studies Conducted in the UK.” PLoS One 9(9): e107799. DOI: 10.1371/journal.pone.0107799

Petrou, S., J. Fraser, et al. (2014). “Child death in high-income countries.” Lancet 384(9946): 831-833.

Sidebotham, P., J. Fraser, et al. (2014). “Understanding why children die in high-income countries.” Lancet 384(9946): 915-927.

Sidebotham, P., J. Fraser, et al. (2014). “Patterns of child death in England and Wales.” Lancet 384(9946): 904-914.

Fraser, J., P. Sidebotham, et al. (2014). “Learning from child death review in the USA, England, Australia, and New Zealand.” Lancet 384(9946): 894-903.

Sidebotham P, Giving evidence in court, Paediatrics and Child Health (2014), http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.paed.2014.01.009

Sidebotham P, Appleton J (2014) From 2014 to 2015 and Beyond: Using Evidence to Promote the Protection of Children Worldwide.  Child Abuse Review  23(1): 1-4

Learning to live

Welcome to my new, updated website: Vacare Deo – learning to live in the unforced rhythms of grace.

The past three years have been an incredible journey for me – a journey of upheaval, discovery, challenges and joys.  I have struggled, and continue to struggle, with grief at the loss of my wonderful wife, Helen; with questions and yearnings in the face of all the violence, injustice, abuse and hatred in this world; with the clutter and busyness of 21st century life.  At the same time, I have felt myself to be enormously blessed – through my amazing children; my fulfilling and inspiring work; the many loving friends who have carried me through these years; and the unexpected joy I have found with my new wife Lois.

Perhaps in all of this we are all the same: we all have our own griefs, our struggles, our joys and blessings.

So I have revamped these pages to be a resource and sounding board for those who, like me, long to live life fully, in the unforced rhythms of grace.  If I can share some of the reflections and resources I have found helpful, if they can be even a small blessing to others, and if, in turn, others feel able to add their own thoughts and ideas through comments and posts, then maybe this will achieve something worthwhile.

I will try to add the occasional blog when I feel I have something worth sharing. In the meantime, I invite you to explore the different pages, and to let me know what you think.

cropped-boots.jpg

 

May the road rise up to meet you.

May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face;
the rains fall soft upon your fields and until we meet again,
may God hold you in the palm of His hand.

traditional Gaelic blessing

 

Learning to listen

The Lord calls Samuel

The boy Samuel ministered before the Lord under Eli. In those days the word of the Lord was rare; there were not many visions.

One night Eli, whose eyes were becoming so weak that he could barely see, was lying down in his usual place. The lamp of God had not yet gone out, and Samuel was lying down in the house of the Lord, where the ark of God was.Then the Lord called Samuel.

Samuel answered, ‘Here I am.’ And he ran to Eli and said, ‘Here I am; you called me.’

But Eli said, ‘I did not call; go back and lie down.’ So he went and lay down.

Again the Lord called, ‘Samuel!’ And Samuel got up and went to Eli and said, ‘Here I am; you called me.’

‘My son,’ Eli said, ‘I did not call; go back and lie down.’

Now Samuel did not yet know the Lord: the word of the Lord had not yet been revealed to him.

A third time the Lord called, ‘Samuel!’ And Samuel got up and went to Eli and said, ‘Here I am; you called me.’

Then Eli realised that the Lord was calling the boy. So Eli told Samuel, ‘Go and lie down, and if he calls you, say, “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.”’ So Samuel went and lay down in his place.

10 The Lord came and stood there, calling as at the other times, ‘Samuel! Samuel!’

Then Samuel said, ‘Speak, for your servant is listening.’

1 Samuel 3: 1-10 (NIV)

 

samuel012

 

This passage from 1 Samuel is all about learning to listen.  We find it hard to listen, to be still: too many things clutter our lives and our minds.

One discipline I have found helpful in learning to listen is the practice of Lectio Divina.

The practice of lectio divina, from the Benedictine tradition, is a well-established approach to engaging directly with God’s Word.[1] There are four stages involved:

  1. Start by slowly reading a passage of the Bible (you could try this now using the first four verses of 1 Samuel 3), then rereading it slowly, sometimes three or four times, until a particular word, phrase, or concept seems to draw your attention.
  2. Spend time repeating and dwelling on that word or phrase, exploring it, seeking the meaning in it for you, for us. Observe the thoughts and feelings that arise in response to the word, and allow these to probe your attitudes, beliefs, and emotions.
  3. In response to that word, talk with God, not being afraid to express your deepest thoughts, feelings, hopes, and fears. You can do this silently or out loud, or use different media, such as journaling, art, music, or movement.
  4. Having expressed yourself, you finally become still, resting in the Holy One’s presence, letting go of your thoughts and feelings, and just being with the God who loves you.

 

Hold on to what came out of that.  You may want to return to it over breakfast/coffee; later on your own or with family or friends; over lunch; writing in your journal.

Direct words from God are rare.  But God does speak – it may just be a nudge, something that seems to stick with you, something that grows on you over time.  Don’t lose it.  It is OK if you didn’t experience anything – it is a start, just learning to be still.  God is present; we need to learn to become aware of God’s presence and to hear God’s voice.

We really find it difficult to listen to God.

Perhaps the following experience sounds familiar to you.  You decide to spend some time praying.  Maybe you’ll stop by the church during the day.  Or maybe you have set up a special place in your house with an altar, a picture or a candle.  Perhaps you have a favourite outdoor spot, and you are determined to go to one of these places and spend half an hour with God.

The time arrives, you have made a space in your schedule around school or work, and so you go and sit down.  Then you remember that you have one more quick call to make.  Or maybe you left the stereo on.  So you go and take care of that problem.  Upon returning to your prayer space, you realise that your clothes are not really comfortable enough, and you are sure that if you just put on those comfy jogging bottoms, everything will be fine.  So you go and change.

When you finally return you feel unsettled, and so you think that you should read some scripture before you begin to pray – just to get your mind in the proper place.  After spending a few minutes deciding what scripture to read, you find a passage that seems appropriate and read it.  Then your mobile phone rings.  Even though you have an answering feature, you just can’t quite resist the urge to pick up the phone and see who is there.

After a ten –minute conversation, you feel wound up and distracted.  You realise you need to do a lot that day.  Looking at the clock, you see that 25 of your 30 minutes have passed.  Telling yourself that this was not the right time to pray, you vow to try again later that evening and, turning your attention to the tasks before you, you head off into the rest of your day.

Daniel Wolpert, Creating a life with God, p 24

 

Here are some suggestions on how to improve our listening:

  1. Acknowledge that we are in God’s presence. In the Old Testament, God’s presence was perceived to be in the temple, with the ark of the covenant.  With Jesus, we recognise that God’s presence is with us always.  We (communal) become God’s temple.  2 Cor 6:16 – ‘We are the temple of the living God, you see, just as God said: “I will live among them and walk about with them; I will be their God, and they will be my people.”’
  2. Practice intentionally being in God’s presence. Listening takes practice.  Being still takes practice.  Start small – maybe five minutes a day.  Find a place where you can be still.  Put yourself in a posture to listen.  Be still.  You could try focusing on your breathing, or say a single word – e.g. one of the names of God, or the Jesus prayer.  Gradually build up the time of your silence: 5 minutes; 10 minutes; 20 minutes.
  3. Develop a rhythm of prayer. You could use the Trinity prayer pattern.
  4. Find some resources to help you: read a book on contemplative prayer; do a retreat in daily life; join one of the quiet days at Offa House; commit to a full residential silent retreat
  5. Learn to distinguish God’s voice. You need to be immersed in God’s word; spending time regularly and intentionally with God.  In his book, Soul Survivor, Paul Hawker gives some helpful pointers on how to distinguish thoughts from God; from myself; from non-heavenly spiritual realms.
  6. Celebrate and share what happens.

 

Learning to listen

Growing up to be a child, chapter 11

So we need to learn afresh how to communicate with God. This has to start with learning to listen in new ways. It seems to me that this new way of listening doesn’t come naturally. Over the years, we have laid down patterns of listening that don’t leave space for hearing God. These patterns have become fixed in our brains and perhaps in our hearts and souls. Too many other things get in the way of our seeing or hearing God. So we need to become again like little children, allowing God to teach us new ways of listening and looking. We need to quieten ourselves and remove other distractions to allow God to speak to us in ways that we can hear.

The pattern of communication I described above relies on pauses. The baby may vocalise or make some expression, but then she stills herself, listens, and watches her mother for a reaction. We often seem to miss this in our prayers, in which we do all the talking but forget to pause and listen, to give God space to respond.

God doesn’t shout to gain our attention. It seems to me that the Holy One communicates gently, in whispers. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks expresses this beautifully in a reflection on Elijah’s encounter with God on Mount Horeb [2]:

 

God tells Elijah to stand on the mountain, ‘for the Lord is about to pass by.’ Suddenly there is a great and powerful wind that tears the mountains apart and shatters the rocks. But God is not in the wind. Then there is an earthquake. But God is not in the earthquake. Then there is a fire. But God is not in the fire. After the fire comes a still, small voice. God is in that voice.

There are many ways of translating the Hebrew phrase for ‘a still, small voice.’ Some prefer ‘a gentle whisper.’ Others, more accurate to the original, render it ‘the sound of a fine silence.’ My own interpretation is different. What is a ‘still, small voice’? It is a sound you can only hear if you are listening …

God does not impose Himself on His image, mankind. On the contrary, God – like a true parent – creates space for His children to grow. He is always there, but only if we seek Him. His word is always present, but only if we listen. Otherwise we do not hear it at all.

God is the music of all that lives, but there are times when all we hear is noise. The true religious challenge is to ignore the noise and focus on the music. The great command of the Bible, ‘Shema Yisrael,’ does not mean, ‘Hear, O Israel.’ It means ‘Listen.’ Listening, we hear. Searching, we find.[3]

 

Learning to be still, to be silent and attentive, is a key part of becoming like a child. In a child’s social development, comprehension comes before expression, listening before speaking. So often we tend to rush into God’s presence with a lot of words, babbling away, bombarding the Holy One with our needs and desires, and never giving any space for God to speak to us. If we are to become like little children, we need to turn that round and learn instead to listen. That will take practice and presence.

With that in mind, I want to finish this chapter – a chapter on communication – with a simple prayer from Esther de Waal[4]:

 

Uncrowd my heart, O God,

until silence speaks

in your still, small voice;

turn me from the hearing of words,

and the making of words,

and the confusion of much speaking,

to listening,

waiting,

stillness,

silence.

 

[1] A helpful exploration of the meaning and practice of lectio divina can be found in M. Basil Pennington. ‘A Christian way to transformation’. Spirituality Today. 1983; 35(3): 220–229.

[2] 1 Kings 19.

[3] J. Sacks. Celebrating life.  London: Continuum, 2000.

[4] E. de Waal. Lost in wonder.  Norwich, UK: Canterbury Press, 2003, 42.