Travelogue

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Entertaining Angels without

knowing it

“Peter started knocking at the front entrance of the house and a servant girl named Rhoda came to answer the door. But as soon as she recognized Peter’s voice she was so overjoyed she ran back without opening it and exclaimed to everyone there, “Peter is at the door!” “No, he can’t be” they told her. When she kept insisting that it was him, they said, “It must be his angel.”

Acts 12: 13-15

It was early on Monday morning when Teresa bumped into Jaime on her way to the market. He looked out of sorts and in hurry.

“How are Inez and the girls?” Teresa asked.

“They’re fine”, he replied without conviction in his voice. His unusual aloofness made Teresa feel uneasy and she sensed that something wasn’t quite right.

“I’ll pop in this evening.”

“Ok”, he replied, and left without making eye contact or giving her the usual goodbye kiss.

That evening Teresa went to see her neighbours, as she promised. She rang the bell and the door was opened immediately by the girls. Their red, puffy eyes revealing they had been crying.

“Girl’s what’s happened?” Teresa asked, making her way into the flat.

“Dad had a car accident yesterday night”, they answered together.

“But that must be impossible I saw him … ”

“Teresa, dad died this morning in the hospital”, one of the girls managed to say before crying again

The three sisters were members of the Church Youth Group where I was one of the leaders; their parents were not churchgoers. On the day of the funeral they told me the story about their dad and Teresa, and then they asked me one of the most difficult questions anybody had asked me in my life:

Who was the person Teresa saw? Was it our dad? Was it his spirit?

I didn’t have an answer that day, and I still don’t today. I only remember that while I was talking with them that the passage I quoted above, from Acts, came to mind and I remember thinking perhaps Teresa did see an angel.

I have met many people with the most amazing stories about angels; some, a real challenge to our pragmatic way of thinking, some deeply moving and inspirational, some quite funny and others quite bizarre. Long ago I made a decision to never pass judgement on these stories, but to accept them as they are: a gift that challenges our limited understanding about spiritual realities that can enrich our lives or at least bring a smile to our faces.

I like the fact that the scripture never went into great details trying to explain what angels are but I like that in quite a provocative way it insinuates their presence and exhorts us to be aware.“Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have entertained angels without knowing it.” Hebrews 13:2

Whether they are strangers or celestial beings, or both; it doesn’t matter. Let’s welcome them as they come – with wings or without, in the appearance of the homeless or a refugee, the elderly or a child. Whatever their appearance, lets offer them the best of our hospitality

I hope we will be more sensitive and aware of the presence of ‘Angels’ in our secular and materialistic society, especially as people seek to address their spiritual needs. If we dismiss them, we may be missing a great opportunity for conversation with those spiritual seekers.

PRAYER

I grew up being taught that prayer was a conversation with God.

It was a tradition that emphasised the spontaneous free speaking to God. Language with all its beautiful possibilities and obvious limitations was the way to pray. But, if I’m honest I should concede that quite often this conversation became a monologue of fancy words to praise God or, at its worst, a “shopping list” of requests. I knew this wasn’t right, but I didn’t know better.

To be honest, at some point, I stopped praying and eventually gave up prayer altogether. After a while, after a series of experiences, I re-discovered prayer again. I was learning not just from my own Anglican spirituality, but also from other enriching Christian traditions. I have found this to be an inspiring and challenging experience that has opened my eyes to new possibilities.

The way I pray and my understanding of prayer has changed as my faith journey has lead me to different places and experiences: from verbal Rococo to minimalistic silence; from contemplating an Icon or lighting a candle to absorbing the beauty of creation or engaging in the creative endeavour; from doing prayers to being a prayer. At the point in my journey where I am now I am more convinced as never before of the importance of prayer in our lives. Prayer is a way to connect with God, to connect with ourselves, and to connect with others. That is what prayer is at its core.

Certainties and doubts

“The God who has been at the centre of the Church’s life for centuries is a God who is disconcertingly inscrutable, and utterly resistant to cheap certainty”.

Revd Dr Giles Fraser

Whilst thinking on the above quote:

There was a time when my faith was subscribed to a catalogue of certainties. There were explanations for everything in life and a riposte to all inquiries. It was an optimistic, confident, sometimes even arrogant discourse. Eventually, one day, reality – the realm where God operates – hit me, dissembling this whole feeble structure of certainties to bear nothingness.

At that moment, I realised that ironically my certainties had become an idol replacing the true God who had always refused to declare Her/Himself in the terms of our limited imagination. It was the beginning of a ‘long night of the spirit’, but it was also the moment when my real journey of faith began.

I began to understand that faith lies in the question. To dare to ask the question is an endeavour of faith. New certainties were born out of question and doubts. The formulaic explanations I used to indulge were replaced by meek silence. The literal boxed notions of the Divine were replaced by awe and wonder of the eternal mystery.

Faith became a journey into the unknown, a struggle to trust the God whose ‘amazing grace’ is assisting us to hold doubts and certainties in creative tension. This is a different kind of journey, a liberating one, a journey that embraces our collective human wound and has the courage to address with honesty and integrity the sometimes distressing and inexplicable events of life. This experience transformed the way how I read the scriptures, too. As never before I become aware of my own narrow, tinted, biased, ethnocentric, dysfunctional, self-absorbed, denominational, interpretation of the scriptures. Moreover, I came to know that the voice of God has many different sounds and resonances, colours and textures, and quite often speaks from the most unexpected places and peoples, always surprising us. I believe this is God’s way to prevent us assuming that one group, tradition or denomination has the monopoly of God’s revelation. I believe this is a crucial point in our complex and joyful conversation with society at large.

The Birth of Jesus

Last week, on Christmas Day, December 25^th, Christians celebrated the birth of Jesus into the world. Christmas is a very special date in our calendar, especially for children, who traditionally receive gifts on Christmas morning. We all enter into the spirit of giving and receiving and children are alight with excitement and anticipation.

It is also a tradition in this country to give gifts to someone when they celebrate their birthday. As Christmas is the birthday of Jesus, we may well ask where His gifts are.

With this in mind on Christmas Day, I invited all the children in the congregation to come forward and sit at the altar of the church, some of them came with their Christmas gifts. Looking around and seeing our children sitting there I realised how privileged we are in having such a diversity of people from all over the world in our church; it was a beautiful rainbow representing all races.

‘How many of you have received a Christmas present?’ I asked the congregation.

Almost everybody put up their hands.

‘How many of you have already opened your presents?’

Half the congregation showed their hands again.

‘Today we are celebrating Jesus’ birthday’, I said.

‘How many of you have a birthday present for Him? It is his birthday, after all’, I added

No hands.

Slowly everybody realised that Christ is the most important of part of Christmas, and that on Jesus’ birthday we should all have a present for him.

I asked Ethan, a shy little boy from the group, sitting next to me to stand up. I put on his head a paper crown and I said to the congregation:

‘Just imagine that Jesus is amongst us in a form of a child, sitting alongside our children… just imagine Him with us, what are you going to give him for his birthday?’

The question touched a nerve in the congregation and for a moment, they wrestled with their thoughts in silence. I joined them in the silence. After a long pause they started to speak out. Somebody said, ‘more of my time’, another said, ‘a good example’. And so the ‘gifts’ kept coming: ’better care’… ‘more attention’… ‘more patience’… ‘our whole lives’… ‘love’

Nobody said they would give a toy.

This sacred moment of us encountering Christ in this little boy showed us our priorities and what is important in life. And as each of us gave consideration to how and what we were going to gift to God this Christmas we were filled with a sense of God’s holy presence.

At the end of my meditation, the children chose to stay at the alter for the peace and

I invited to the entire congregation to come to front to share peace with our ‘little Jesus’ and the rest of the children.

It was magic to see the children reach out their little hands to greet the adults and share in the peace; it was a moment of blessing for everyone.

If Jesus is in every person we meet, every person we love, then Christmas is a good time to remind us that Christmas is about Christ, a birthday boy, quietly, patiently awaiting His present. My gift would be my peace and good will to all people. What would you give Him?

2009-1 Sustaining the Sacred Centre

Struggle-Solidarity

“He [Ernesto] has developed a knack for leading others into biblical stories, especially from the Old Testament, to explore them and enjoy them, then open themselves to creative possibilities in them. We took two stories — Jacob’s Ladder and Jacob wrestling an angel. Interacting individually and together with the text, themes of Solidarity and Struggle began to emerge, and really got us humming as we began to recognise resonances in our own stories from which we identified songs from the backing track of our lives.”

Bishop Alan Wilson

Remembrance Sunday

Harry Patch (In memory of) by Radiohead

Click the link to RADIO 4 to listen the song

http://news.bbc.co.uk/today/hi/today/newsid_8184000/8184802.stm

Image&Word

“Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the desert

to be tempted by the devil.”

Matthew 4:1

TheEyesofGod

A young man called Eknath woke up one day with a deep yearning to know God. He went to the temple and asked the priests tell him about God. They tried their best to explain God to him but their explanations did not satisfy his heart, and he went back home disheartened. The following morning he gathered his few belongings in a little bag and left his home town in search for God. He travelled extensively meeting along the way many wise people, holy men, prophets, mystics, priest, hermits, bishops, but sadly not one gave him an explanation that satisfied his heart.

Eknath did not relinquish his quest; he continued his travelling and searching for God. He travelled to the end of the world, visiting forgotten places, busy cities, and exotic towns. He saw wealth and riches, misery and depravation. Time passed by and Eknath grew older and more tired. There were moments when he thought it was time to go back home, but strength come from within and he keep walking, searching for God.

One day Eknath arrived at a very small village, it was a hot sunny day. He went to the river nearby to refresh himself. A group of local women were there, too, washing their clothes. One of them asked him:

“Stranger, what kind of business has brought you to our poor village?” “I am a traveller looking for God,” he replied. “You have come to the right place. Up there, on the top of hill, there is a cave where an old, wise man called Kavi lives. He knows about God.”

Bursting with excitement he collected his things and went in search of Kavi. He climbed the hill and found an old man sitting outside a cave contemplating the sunset in a state of utter peace. Eknath did not want to disturb the scared moment so he sat down quietly, without saying a word and joined in when he thought it was right to do so. It seemed that time had been suspended, that heaven and earth had become one, that Eknath and Kavi were in the centre of the universe being one. Eventually the energy faded away and the old man came back from where his soul was wondering, made eye contact with Eknath and smiled.

“Please tell me about God,” Eknath pleaded. Kavi smiled again. Taking his time he savoured the question and began to tell the story of his life. Eknath did not understand, he thought for a moment that maybe the old man had not understood his question, as he had asked to know God, not about the man himself. But, for some mysterious reason Eknath did not say anything and listened with respect and attention.

The story of this old man was the story of all humankind; in it the great mystery of life was unfolding. It was sad, it was exuberant, it was painful, it was wonderful, it was rich, it was meagre, it was ordinary, it was miraculous; love found, love lost; it was long, but it was short. They laughed, they wept, they rejoiced, and in Kavi’s story Eknath found what he was searching for all those years. He fell on his knees in a flow of tears saying, “You are indeed wise. I have seen God!1have seen God!”

The wise man smiled and reaching out his hand to Eknath’s shoulder, he said, “My friend, you have only seen God’s smile, but the day you find God in your own story that day you will see God’s eyes.” He paused and added, “You have been wondering around looking for answers, but you forgot to look within, to walk within, to see within, that the sacred temple and all the wisdom of God is within your own heart, in your life, in your journey, in your own story…”

StarWalkers

The Nazca Lines are one of the most amazing man-made marvels of the world. They are a series of huge pre-Columbian figures drawn into the dusty desert floor of Peru. One of the mysteries of these lines is that they can only be seen from the air. I have flown over the lines a couple of times; the last time was with Marie who, despite the dizziness, sickness, and worry because of the care-free, Top Gun style of the pilot [one hand on map the other pointing to the lines!] managed to really enjoy the experience with me.

Many have attempted to explain the raison d’être of these mysterious lines with all sorts of theories and sometimes eccentric explanations. But, there is something that is certain: these figures [geometrical lines, humming bird, spider, dog, monkey, alien, etc.] were all made by people of faith and imagination, seeking to engage the gods in desperate times of environmental disorder. It is also certain that the lines were guided by the stars as they were in alignment with the heavens. Local archaeologists have come with a most likely theory about the lines. They have suggested that the Nazca Lines where used for religious rituals, in the same way ancient Christians used the labyrinth, Nazca people used the lines to walk as they prayed and chanted to the gods, led by their priest. Because the Lines were in alignment with the stars of the sky these people were not just walking a dusty labyrinth in the desert; in their mind they were, in fact, walking in the celestial heavens in the stars… they were cosmic pilgrims!

That thought touches me deeply, in a very emotional way. It reminds me of our own relationship with the cosmic order… The words Jesus spoke to Peter come to mind, too:

“And that’s not all. You will have complete and free access to God’s kingdom, keys to open any and every door: no more barriers between heaven and earth, earth and heaven. A yes on earth is yes in heaven. A no on earth is no in heaven.” Matthew 16:19 (The Message)

If only we could have the same awareness the Nazca people had, our journey in this life would be travelled in deep cosmic awareness where there are “no more barriers between heaven and earth, earth and heaven”, and we would all be walking those very same stars in heaven too.

TheCross

The cross, I said to my congregation, is a paradox symbol of human despair and hope. The cross of Christ holds together in creative tension the distress and aspirations of the human soul, the dreams and failures, heaven and hell, life and death. To understand the real meaning of the cross we need to engage with this paradox of the cross.

Distress and hope are part of our human experience, shared by other fellow travellers in all times and places. Both are part of our life, journey, story and conversation with God. The experience of despair and hope is real in our life, as it is bestowed in the cross. Jesus invited us to carry our cross, “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.” Jesus’ invitation is to embrace the cross that will bind us together with the distress and hope of humanity: the solidarity of the cross.

The Salvadorian cross that depicts scenes of everyday community life is a creative and clever way to raise awareness that our whole life, distress and hopes, are part of God’s economy in the cross. In the cross we hear our own cry, “Father why have you forsaken me?”

We hear the cry of the poor of the earth, “Father why have you forsaken us?”

In the cross we come together, we are bound together. In the cross we also hear whispers of new beginnings, the promises of a new tomorrow…possibilities.

After this brief introduction I gave to each person in the congregation a sheet of paper printed with the shape of a cross, an empty cross. Then I invited them to write inside the cross a word or to draw a picture of places, people or situations where they felt there is despair and distress. This could be their own, from others or both.

In reverent silence they did just that. Then I invited them do the same again but this time they would have to write or draw a picture of all the things they hope to see changing in themselves and the world.

In reverent silence they did just that. Then I told them that these things they have drawn or written in the cross are the things that matters to them, the things they feel passionate about, these are the things that make up the people they are.

“This is your cross”, I said. Then I invited them to write their names on the cross.

We spent some time in silence and stillness, meditating on our cross and in what we had done.

At the end some folded the cross and took it with them, others took my invitation: “During the music,” I said, “you are invited if, you wish, to place your cross at the altar in our basket of prayers.” And, in reverent silence, and solidarity, some laid their own cross for blessing, for humankind, for hope.

UPrayer

Thanksgiving for the Creative Endeavour

In carving the wood; in sculpting the stone;

in forming the clay