My study project for the last couple of years has been participating in an online course in pastoral ministry led by the University of Loyola in Chicago. One of our tasks each week was to respond with a short reflection on the material we were studying that week – topics ranged from the Old Testament to Catholic Social Teaching, via the spirituality of John Duns Scotus and the radical reshuffle of Vatican II. It was a wide ranging course!
Some of the notes which were made by our cohort struck me as well worth sharing (with their permissions) and might provoke a response in you too.

Glory, glory, glory!: We were re-introduced to the saints of the Reformation. This is on the work and writings of Mary Ward – an educator of the C17 and the founder of the Loreto nuns (IBVM).

Glory, glory, glory – Another new mentor for me.  I spent a brief year educated by IBVM sisters at Loreto Manchester, before a family move took us to another city. I was in Teresa Ball House (who continued the work of Mary Ward), but never really explored their story in any depth, so this was like getting to know distant cousins all over again.  I am glad to have met them!
I am not sure that Mary Ward qualifies as an English martyr, but I will run with “remaining faithful to her spiritual legacy”.  Lots of resonance, but this really stood out:  “singular freedom … renders us apt for all good works, so that we do not limit encounter with GOD to some special and holy sphere, but experience GOD precisely in the ordinariness of our human existence”.  Surely also the legacy of those who lived their faith with such intuitive profundity that they were prepared to die for it.
I mentioned in a previous response that I was participating in a parish synodal retreat.  It was not earth-shattering, nobody was martyred, and yet each person is marginally dislocated from their previous path; twitches and tweaks which will enable them to grow in new ways – enable our parish community to grow in new ways –  “experiencing GOD in the ordinariness of our human existence”.  We can work with the mustard seeds of our daily faith; GOD can move the mountains. (Matt 17:20-21).
I cannot finish without joining in Mary Ward’s ever-loudening rallying call  “we were [considered] in all things inferior to some other creature which I suppose to be man, which I dare be bold to say is a lie.”   The nonsense by which the Church continues to choose to differentiate between male and female roles is unrelenting, but the nudging of the Spirit goes on.  We will get there.

This was one of my contributions – I am often looking for ways to “uncover” hermitage, so I couldn’t resist this reference to ecclesiology by Hahnenburg which resonates so closely with hermitage spirituality.

I am going to go off-piste a little here by considering very specifically, the ecclesiological model* of hermitage, by sharing some of the teachings of St Peter Damien alongside the sources cited by Hahnenberg.
Peter was an 11^th century Benedictine hermit/bishop.  (ref image attached).  One of the great debates occupying the minds of the day, was the question of praying on your own.  When a hermit was praying in solitude, could they legitimately pray the call/response “The Lord be with you” “And also with you”?  Peter wrote a whole book about it, and his answer was a resounding “YES!”.  (ref excerpt below)
His teaching was that each hermit is created in the image of Christ – confirmed by baptism – so each holds within them the fullness of Christ – the fullness of Church.  Peter went so far as to say that each hermit is Church unto themself.  The motif of hermitage-as-tabernacle which I referred to in a previous post, is in part derived from this teaching.  As Hahnenberg cited, a reality imbued with the hidden presence of God (Pope Paul VI)*.   in Christ, a sacrament … of communion with God and of the unity of the human race (Dogmatic constitution on the Church)*.
Even after I had arrived in my hermitage, it took me a long while to get a sense of what it was for.  I knew it was “home”, the place I was meant to be, but what was I supposed to be doing here?  The answer perhaps lies in this theology of ecclesiology.  As the video described, the hermit is “in the mess” with the whole Church – the hermit IS the Church.  And so as the hermit (and her mess), are redeemed in Christ,  the whole Church is redeemed in Christ.  In Christ, we redeem each other.
To paraphrase the quotation we were given: The hermit acts in God what in God’s eye they are, Christ.  And the hermit abides in this mystery, not as an individual, but as Church.
Ps.  As per previous posts, this doesn’t just apply to hermits; it applies to everyone!
Pps.  Also! lo cotidiano is exactly the word for hermitage.  It is the “ordinary” I keep on talking about.  Thank you Aleja! 

In our module on the History of the English Church, we were given this (long!) poem by Kevin Nichols (also wrote the popular hymn: In bread we bring you Lord), and asked to contribute a final verse

A poem to mark the 150^th Anniversary of the Restoration of the Hierarchy in England and Wales
(You will need to click the link – I put it on a separate page because it is so long … but worth reading, especially if you love the Northern climes!). And here is a verse written in response:

Ah!  The men of the North!
But the women are muted into quietude
Whispering, murmuring obedience,
wising their menfolk into deaf ears.
There is blood-ruby here in the womb-vaults of the steepled Church,
The veins are deep, pressured, life-full,
Sacrament to the wastelands of our ecclesial industry.
The harrowing will glisten our brows,
the sloughing of stone and candle-wax, the shriek of mangled iron … 

But, oh!  The treasure!

Faith is all-in-all.
No priest, nor prophet, nor king, between each and each, in GOD.

This was a fun exercise. I wonder what your version of the Gospel might look like?

One of the aspects of our study which I have found enriching is uncovering the predisposition of the writers – the intentional purposes of their writing.  I have always worked flexibly with the scriptures to achieve a coherent framework in my mind, but I had somehow considered the New Testament in general, and the Gospels in particular, to be … well … GOSPEL!  An objective account of what actually happened, with the discrepancies being accounted for as errors, forgetfulness, misunderstandings.  So the possibility that the differences are directed and intentional and purposeful is something of a revelation. I am reassured that my arguments might be with personal interpretations, rather than with the TRUTH.
And it set me to wondering what the Gospel according to Margaret might look like – using the “source material” of the Synoptics, in the same way as Luke and Mathew used Mark and Q and L and M.  I hope it might be at least as pithy as Mark with some of the warmth of Luke.  I think Matthew might find my version a bit casual, with the occasional quirky metaphor thrown in to make the reader smile!  And perhaps borrowing some of the timey-wimey flavour of John (ref link below) – it would begin at the beginning, but be written on a mobius strip so that there would be no beginning and no end.  Apart from the OT scriptures, I would also pepper my work with citations from more contemporary writers/prophets – the Desert Fathers, St John of the Cross, Nouwen, Chittister, Rohr.
My letters would be almost certainly less measured and technical than Paul’s, but possibly a little less obdurate too; with less emphasis on sin, and more on the wonder of being created in the image of GOD’s humanity.
My “directed, intentional and purposeful” flavour?  Being human is in the nature of GOD from the beginning, GOD’s humanity calls our own humanity into being.  Jesus-on-earth “consummates” God’s humanity (“it is accomplished” – there’s the gift!) and redemption -as experienced through the Resurrection stories – was from the beginning, forever, eternal. Amen.
The Gospel writers have the disadvantage of their work being established into an authoritative/canonical form.  Mine hasn’t reached that stage yet.  It is still emerging, and will constantly be written and overwritten in different coloured pens and scattered with post-its of “try-out” ideas that I am not quite ready yet to fully commit to.
It would be lovely if anyone else felt able to share a little of the flavour of their own personal Gospel?

Another discussion on Catholic Social Teaching – exploring the nuances of the “technical” language used and how that might distort our approach to the “other”.

I was reading this week’s resources alongside the brief report of the Synod discussions-to-date, published by the Vatican News.  Very mixed feelings, which 250 words won’t begin to explore, so some brief points to ponder:
Some key words stand out in both Byron and the Synod report: “dignity”, “respect”, “solidarity”.  Both documents express concern in those terms for the poor, women, migrants etc.  
But I worry about how “dignity”, “respect”, “solidarity” are differently interpreted in the two documents – manipulated even?  There is a sense in the Synod summary, of the poor, women, migrants being “other” – a problem or dilemma to be resolved so that we can return to the status quo.  Why is there a particular need to “accompany and understand”?  Are the women, and the migrants, and the poor so alien to Church that they need to be approached with such caution?  Do they not, in themselves alone, embody the sensum fidei which is the heartbeat of the Church?
As I understand CST solidarity described by Byron, it is much stronger, more rooted than that.  The solidarity of CST is about identifying with the “considered-by-the-clerical-community-to-be-edge-people”; not inviting them into pre-defined roles, but recognising that they can define their own roles, can contribute from their own place; that their voice is as influential as anyone else’s.  That their Christ-ness can speak to us of GOD, bring us to GOD,  just as fully as any person’s. 
There is also a danger that “dignity” and “respect” are used as foils to deflect from seriously interrogating differing and contentious perspectives – a new version of paternalism which recognises the validity of people who think differently, but puts them in the back room and asks them to keep the noise down.
The Church has a long way to go. 

This was part of an interesting discussion about the liturgical presentation of the Church – inspired by the coronation of Charles III!

My most informative “experience” of the disputes of Reformation and the role of Cranmer, has to be through the books and TV adaptation of “Wolf Hall” and “Bring up the Bodies” (author Hillary Mantel).  She doesn’t paint a sympathetic picture of Cranmer – he is a prominent figure in the narrative, and his slow and somewhat duplicitous struggle for power entangled with the desires and ambitions of Henry VIII, Anne Boleyn, Thomas Cromwell and Thomas Moore all bear much probing.  The books in particular present a language which “hears differently” to today’s speech.  I understand Mantel is a diligent researcher, so it is possible that there is some accuracy in the idioms and mannerisms of the day.

I was thinking about this during yesterday’s Coronation service – archaic language and symbolism which, by dint of the thoughtfulness and skill and exquisite attention to detail of the designers and choreographers, actually came across as holding meaning – more of an ordination than a coronation I felt.  An elegant and solemn space of respect and commitment to service.

I am a fierce proponent of inclusive language in all liturgical situations – MotherFather, Christ, Abraham & Sarah, Jacob & Rachel, we, people, humankind etc. – and I recognise that the RC Church’s bullish persistence in the use of gendered language for GOD, in particular, and the lexical exclusion of women, is totally alienating and excludes a vast proportion of GOD’s own people.  So the accessibility of yesterday’s ceremonial has blindsided me a bit.  I would not have thought it possible – and indeed without the sensitive and scrupulous preparation (not generally available within your regular parish liturgy) it would not have been possible.  But, somehow, they did it.  Well done them.

We talked about Evangelisation, and how to create welcoming community spaces where people could explore and share safely. I think this is a good summation.

I have known of the Alpha Course for a long time, but never been involved, though I have heard good things about it.  My two take-aways from the introductory video and clips were

1. Safe spaces!  –  lovely to see this old friend again and to see how it is created and effected in the Alpha groups – the “any question” mantra must open up some wonderful discussions.  And I love that they specifically included the doubters – it really does make a safe space for everyone.
2. Secularism as a culture –  I found this a really useful handle, and it gives a new life and energy to our evangelisation – Missionaries to a secular society, taking on board all the priorities and mores and culture of the world outside our parish church (and inside!) and engaging, listening, pondering, responding, inviting them to change us; to let us change them.
   
   As we have discussed before, perhaps the practices underlying both of these take-aways are those of engaging and listening – respectfully and compassionately and honestly and energetically, in a spirit of mutuality.  Bringing our whole selves with us into *their* safe space.  Discovering what questions do their cultural experiences leave them with – what questions do their cultural experiences leave us with?.  What is the question they are looking for the answer to? 
   
   As Pope Francis says in his letter to bishops in preparation for the Synod:  Go out and meet them,let them question you, let their questions become your questions. Journey together.

Shiny glittery things: This one was a rare treat, from when we were considering forming relationships in the module on Catchesis, Even if you don’t answer the questions, I hope you enjoy the video!

I am afraid this link might set Sr Carino’s alarm bells ringing, as there is no mention of Jesus!   This is from our parish retreat leading us into new ways of relationship with God, with each other, through Synodality.  Although each session does include pieces drawn from the Gospels, the writings of Pope Francis and other prayers, personally I think this video suffices for a standalone session of its own.  I love the intimacy, the tenderness, the delight of each in the other.  And of course, it is very, very beautiful! 

Perhaps the invitation in the questions after the video, is to the catechumen to find and name the Word of God for themselves.

Questions:
Why do you think this video has been included in your programme of catechesis?  How does it witness, accompany, teach?
What might this video reveal to you about the relationship between God and humankind?
What might this video reveal to you about the relationship of the Trinity?
What might this video reveal to you about relationships within your parish community.
Where do you place yourself in this dance?  Who else is there?  Who is dancing?  Who is leading?  Who is delighting?
Is this the Word of God to you?  If so, what is God saying to you?

Another bit of my own story. And the story of the English Church. This experience was the beginning of my delight in St Cuthbert and his spirituality – And to discover more recently that Bd John Duns Scotus is also a kindred spirit.

So then, Bd John Duns Scotus was a bit of a revelation.  I have been muddling my way towards my own wonderously-true-but-not-entirely-orthodox “God-story” for the last 60 years or so, and occasionally presented versions of it to friends and/or “learned men and women” – generally meeting with a gentle, kindly smile of wouldn’t-it-be-lovely scepticism!  So the discovery that the same ideas (Plan A!) were presented with far more clarity than I have ever been able to muster, by a C13 man of “slow-learning”. Hoorah for Bd John Duns Scotus!
My first visit to Holy Island/Lindesfarne was in the eighties with the Newcastle University Catholic Chaplaincy – our pre-exam season annual retreat.  This was before the gentrification of the island which has taken place in more recent years.  No information centres, prayer gardens, artistic installations or tourist shops.  It really had a bedraggled, windswept, ancient ruggedness – the only daytime shelter was the Lindesfarne Mead showroom which offered free – and very welcome to cold impoverished students – samples, and an occasionally-open tea room with chintz tablecloths, serving scones and jam to the more financially endowed.
I fell in love with the place. 
We held a prayer service in the Anglican church near the old Abbey ruins and were invited to search the island for something of “significance” to share with the group.  I chose a small pebble from the beach – I called it my serenity stone and kept it for years.  It has since been replaced with others – any pebble will do.  The point was/is that it was perfectly “content” being itself.  At the time, as a student under pressure of finance, deadlines, ambition, that seemed an enviable capacity. 
My experience of Celtic spirituality resonates with my concept of the serenity stone.  A space, a focus, to be still.  To abide in “Plan A”.  I like to think that John Duns Scotus might smile at my idea – and hopefully with less scepticism than my earlier advisors. 

To finish this post from Loyola on a high and profound note … we were asked “What makes a great parish liturgy” This was one person’s contribution. Thank you Deidre.

What makes a Great liturgy?  Some thoughts about the Mass 

·       The fact that I / we went to it. We showed up. Again.

·       The fact that we arrived in time to sit down and become present – Not so easy with traffic and young children etc. Or difficulties getting up for a teenager. Or someone elderly. Or the changes in public transport. Or the sports calendars / commitments of family members. Or yet more roadworks / temporary traffic lights that were not there yesterday!

·       That I was welcomed with a smile and a comment.

·       And others nodded to me, and I to them across the aisle.

·       The choir’s not great, let’s be honest. But I know and like this hymn and it is meaningful for the season. (This is not guaranteed.)

·       There is light through stained glass.

·       There are flowers and the microphones are working well.

·       There are two young altar servers on the altar with the priest

·       There is a children’s liturgy and after the welcome, they skip up the aisle to the sacristy. Followed by some of their parents.

·       I reflect on my recent shortcomings and am forgiven.

·       There is a reader who reads clearly and slowly enough. And does not distract from the words. They are young. They are old. They are Keralan. They are French.

·       That some words of the readings elicit a response in me.

·       That I harness my distracted mind to listen to a part of the homily. Or reflect on the readings.

·       That I believe. And I prayed with everyone for the needs spoken. And silently for those I promised to pray for. And other needs.

·       That I have offered something of myself to this. Plus, donated.

·       That I am present to the Liturgy of the Eucharist. And pray for those I need to. Do this in memory of me. That there is silence afterwards. That I rest a moment in Him however brief. I am outside time and my everyday life.

·       That I am sent and I assent.

·       The choir again. And that the hymn is familiar to many and uplifts them on their way. (This is not guaranteed.)

·       At the end we greet each other, listen and share, in communion. Comfort and rejoice for all the everyday sorrows and joys. And sometimes, the overwhelming bereavement or loss. Or the worry for a child who is not in a good place, a safe space.

·       And I speak to someone I haven’t spoken to before. And make a connection that may be strengthened

·       And we head over to share coffee and biscuits and catch up and volunteer. And accept support. And I check in with the priest.

·       And it is ordinary. And it is extraordinary.  

​​​​​​​​​​​​​​A great liturgy. A mystery.

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words. And God, who searches the heart, knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. Romans 8:26-27 NRSV