October 2020 – Notes from Bambi

Saints Alive!

Dear Benedict

We’re approaching All Saints and All Souls, an extended autumnal feast to remember those who have gone before us in the faith. I’m not clear how this would have worked in your day, as there were many fewer official saints. However, you consider saints important to Benedictine spirituality and mention them in chapter 14, so that’s why I’m writing to you about that now.

Saints are just one of the things that still divide Christians today. We have our different views about who are worthy to be called Saints, who can appoint them, how we should remember them and much more. One person’s Saint is not necessarily another’s.

However, it’s clear that there are many people who through the generations have kept the faith alive in many ways and who we remember for diverse different reasons. Some are associated with a place or cause, some are more like common ancestors in the faith or beloved family members. Even you get to be a Saint, Benedict! I’ve no idea how you’d receive that, except of course I’m sure it would be humbly.

One of the biggest problems with the faith is the urge in us to cart our history about with us, and when it becomes too much to carry, to set it down somewhere and continually revisit it. Sometimes this is helpful. It can inspire and enliven us, but it can also bog us down, distract us and take up too much of the energy we need for living the faith today.

Our churches and religious places are not museums. They are supposed to be beacons: a means of lighting out way. So too the Saints: people to propel us forwards.

Speaking personally, there are a vast number of people who do that faith propulsion thing for me. Some are those the Church recognises as official saints, but most are just ordinary people that I might read about or meet. I chose Scholastica as my running mate for many different reasons. As your twin she was connected to you, but like me she was female. However, in our day, very little is known about her directly and few, if any, of her actual words survive. That much of her story is familiar to the lot of many women in the early era of the Church.

What has been passed on about her was that she was feisty and ready to question you. It’s good to know that. I’d add to her name a whole list of others beginning with Julian of Norwich, Florence Nightingale and Madge Saunders. You can read a piece I wrote about Madge in the Dangerous Women Project.

So I wish you a happy feast, with which ever Saints keep you alive in the faith.

From the remembered bible: Let us run the race that is before us!

Keep me alive in my faith!

From a Friend of Scholastica and a Member of the Lay Community of St Benedict.

Sleep!

Dear Benedict,

In chapter 21 you give your attention to sleep. I do so now in my letter to you. Sleep is important, vital.

In your day, ordinary people would have expected little private space, if any, in which to sleep. Families bedded down together and if you worked as a servant for a richer family, then servants would have shared sleeping space. But you say ‘each sleeps in their own bed’. An early attempt at safe-guarding? Hard to say. The concept is still a relatively new one to us even. But it’s a timely piece of advice.

Of course even today not everyone has the space to sleep alone. Homeless and on the streets, it’s warmer in a doorway with a dog and a companion or two. Under a leaking tarpaulin trying to cross Europe as a refugee, people take shelter where they can. Even in Britain today not everyone gets to sleep in their own bed.

For those who can choose, private space for sleeping has become the norm. Shared dormitories of the type you describe are much less welcome. But a small room with a closed door could be more dangerous than an open room with many beds. Our understandings of consent are challenged all of the time. We must wake up to that, at least!

But sleep is important if you are going to get up early to sing and pray the offices. Proper sleeping arrangements are therefore vital. Yet too often we, who have these basics, seek to deny them to others, pushing out those who seek asylum, for example, to sleep in places we have long since abandoned or consider inappropriate now, like disused barracks. When hotels or B and B’s are used for people claiming benefits we decry the luxury, even when the places themselves are far from luxurious. When the un-imprisoned learn prisoners have televisions in their cells they are incensed. All this seems to be the response of the fearful who live wondering if their flimsy security could be stripped away.

Patchwork bed quilt I have made with fabric reused from garments

You knew that a bed would help a person feel valued, give them a place. Well slept monastics could better serve the community to which they belonged. We could learn this too. Giving people beds is not a luxury; it just helps them sleep and wake up better able to contribute.

From the remembered bible: I lay down and sleep in safety.

Let me sleep!

From a Friend of Scholastica and a Member of the Lay community of St Benedict.

Pray, but keep it short!

Dear Benedict,

This isn’t a long letter. This is to commend you for your advice in Chapter 20 to keep our prayers ‘short and pure’.

I’m in favour of that. I’ve sat through far too many long and tedious prayers in my time, designed, it would appear to make the pray-er look good rather than anything else.

Of course, sometimes, in anguish or anxiety, our prayers may become stretched out. God sits with us.

We may wonder what short prayers could accomplish but remember we are not trying to ‘change God’s mind’ as much as join God’s team. Joining for a short time whenever we may gives God joy: the Holy One is happy to see us show up.

As for pure; just pray. Try not to get it mixed up with other stuff; and make it wholehearted.

From the remembered gospel: Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God!

Here I am, wholeheartedly!

From A Friend of Scholastica and a Member of the Lay Community of St Benedict.

Sing!

Dear Benedict,

In chapter 17 of your Rule you are quite specific about which psalms the community should sing and when. The Psalter was the hymn book of your community and in all of the Benedictine communities I have visited it is obviously well known and much loved.

When I walked my End to End last year I was surprised how many bits of psalms, what I call psalm snippets, there were in my remembered bible and when I walk I often come back to them and reflect on them. Although I do use the psalms I also sing a lot of other things, quite a bit of which I make up ‘as I go along’ with the pattern of the psalms and the seasons to inspire me.

Today I was walking in our valley enjoying the falling leaves. Forest Church, an expression of outdoor worship, attracts me and there are places round here I often revisit . Today I made tracks to a group of beech trees that I call the Beech Cathedral and they were glorious. I wrote this hymn whilst I sat there.

The beech trees in this season
Each wear a golden gown,
And in the strips of woodland,
Deciduous leaves fall down.
All sorts of berries ripen
And turn a vibrant red
So in the coldest season,
The wayside birds are fed.

Chorus:
With all these things around us
May we learn to share
The good things of Creation
And for our planet, care.

The canopy above us,
The leaves beneath our feet,
The world continues turning,
The patterns still repeat,
But with our climate changing
We haven’t got much time
To change our wasteful ways
And repent of climate crime.

Chorus:
With all these things around us
May we learn to share
The good things of Creation
And for our planet, care.

The swallow have flown southwards,
The geese have come to rest,
By patterns of migration
We all are truly blessed.
But temperatures are rising,
The poorest bear the cost
We must change how we’re living
Or all we know is lost.

Chorus:
With all these things around us
May we learn to share
The good things of Creation
And for our planet, care.

Tune is Wir Pflugen (We plough the fields)

From the remembered bible: And the trees of the field shall clap their hands

I sing to you!

From a Friend of Scholastica and a Member of the Lay Community of St Benedict.

In touch!

Dear Benedict

I’m writing to you again, this time about chapter 16 of the Rule, where you urge monastic communities to follow a pattern of prayer each day. It reminded me of George Herbert’s words: Seven whole days, not one in seven, I will praise thee.

The tradition I grew up in met once a week, the one day in seven. At first hearing about it worshipping seven days in seven seemed a lot. Then multiply that by the seven times a day that you advocate, it added up to the ‘Pray at all times’ which was the bible verse I chose for my own confession of faith.

In my early forays into Benedictine life the small hours during the day were delightful and I still love them as a template. The community is involved in a complex dance: together, apart, together, apart, together again. Worship, work, worship, work and worship again: the signs and sounds that we encounter in work are bought with us into worship.

Working as a school chaplain for some time, I found the rhythm of school life was similar. In between the formal chapel services I would often walk around corridors or sports fields with my prayers. So praying comes at many different times; in the queue at the shops, in the car, on the bus. The community around me will not be made up of the same people but common concerns arise.

Take hunger for example. Which of us enjoys beings hungry? It’s a big topic in our COVID19: who is hungry and who is not? Who has the power to feed the hungry and who actually does it? I’m not hungry and have been fortunate never to have been hungry. This does not mean I don’t believe others may be hungry or that somehow being hungry must be their fault. A hungry person needs food: simple really.

Jesus did not say: When I was hungry you had a debate in Parliament about me.

Of course, I could go as far as Helder Camara and ask why the hungry poor are poor in the first place, but that it seems would make me political and once again religious people in 21st century Britain are not supposed to be political. I wonder if those who say this really think this through. I am human, I am political. Being part of any community is a political act, it signifies with whom I am in solidarity, with whom I am in touch.

Seven whole days, not one in seven, feed the hungry. Seven times a day, pray as a community. Seven just means a lot, all of the time, continually. I know why the poor are poor. It is because the rich are rich. If your way of keeping away from hunger yourself is to hoard wealth then the poor will likely continue poor and hungry.

From the remembered gospel: Jesus said ‘When I was hungry you gave me something to eat’.

A prayer before meals: For what we are about to waste may we be truly regretful.

From and Friend of Scholastica and a Member of the Lay Community of St Benedict.

Alleluia!

Dear Benedict

‘Alleluia’ is one of those words for particular times and seasons, you write in chapter 15 of the Rule. In my own tradition it is not used that much, only for particularly lengthy Easter hymns from what I recall. But it’s a short word and it can be a fun one.

My daughter’s preferred response to me on social media is ‘Woot!’ I think ‘Woot!’ is a sort of ‘Alleluia!’ so maybe I’ll try replacing ‘Woot!’ with ‘Alleluia!’ and vice versa.

As you include ‘Alleluia!’ in responses at certain times of the year, so you exclude it from others, all of which gets a bit difficult to remember. As a community it might be easier to do that: a shared remembering.

COVID19 has given us much to remember and not much to ‘Woot!’ about. Last night, Greater Manchester (the boundary of which is 1100 yards away from where we live, according to my husband) entered Tier 3 of the current COVID19 restrictions. I didn’t hear many alleluias, except perhaps a few faint and ironic ones.

From Easter to Pentecost the community observing the Rule would have had much to celebrate and so Alleluia might have come more readily into worship. But now in gloomy October with grey days and bleak news there are fewer alleluias. So what if we started saying Alleluia now, and I don’t mean ironically?

Let’s hear a few more Alleluias. It might remind us who’s we are and who we follow. It might lift us from the mundane and the murky days. It might serve as a word of recommitment to the risen life and the kindom of peace and justice to which we are called. To some it might be liturgical anarchy but to others it might be a prayer, a sigh, a song.

A worshipful response: Christ is Risen, Alleluia!

Alleluia!

From a Friend of Scholastica and a Member of the Lay Community of St Benedict.

Forgive!

Dear Benedict,

Forgive me for not writing for a few days. I do a thing called retirement though I’m not sure it was a concept in the 6th century, or in monastic communities much at all. In 21st century Britain it’s a somewhat contested concept due to inequalities: some people get more retirement than others. Having been doing it in what I think is a modest way from nearly two years it often includes long distance walking. We have been walking a new route in Derbyshire along the Derwent Valley and that has taken me away from letter writing for a few days.

I’m writing to you about the Prayer of Jesus in morning and evening worship (and at other times too I’m sure) that you mention in chapter 13. You advocate saying it aloud as every word is a pledge or promise by community members to each other. You mention how ‘thorny issues’ may grow up between people and recommend the words ‘Forgive us as we forgive’.

Forgiveness itself is one of the thorny issues of our day. People ask, how do I forgive? Is it enough to say ‘I forgive you’ or is more required? What if you can’t say such words, can’t forgive? For some people it seems a straight forward matter: I forgive you and that’s it? For others it has qualification: I forgive you but I can’t forget. How does that seem? Others say they can neither forgive or forget.

At the beginning of the Rule you said this school for God’s service wouldn’t be harsh or a burden (end of Prologue) but you urged us not to run away from the opportunity for a way of life that might seem narrow to begin with but would be found accommodating enough with perseverance. I think perhaps this issue of forgiveness is one of those heartfelt aspects that is both tough and yet also liberating. In referring to the Jesus Prayer you put forgiveness in context. Jesus was teaching this prayer to his followers: it’s one of our direct links to him. The daily need for forgiveness was to him as vital as bread itself. However, not every loaf is perfect, not every hunger satisfied and not every forgiveness lived out but we have the opportunity to pray for it again tomorrow.

A narrow way in the Derwent Valley, Derbyshire.

I think of those who carry huge burdens of inequality and I wonder how they can be expected to forgive those who will not equally share bread with them. What of those who bare massive burdens of grief due to the destructive activities of war or other injurious practices: just carrying on in itself may occupy most of life let along forgiveness. Forgiveness for what? Even the church doesn’t get clean away with this one. Such are my distractions from my own forgiveness issues.

Your own world was smaller, although even a few relationships in a community can be complex. Maybe we need to think of starting with our immediate surroundings. I can only start with forgiving those closest to me and hope they do the same. Forgiveness one step at a time, one word at a time, one prayer at a time. How many times might we say these words in a life time? I’ve no idea but we have the opportunity and that could be world changing.

From the remembered gospel: Jesus said ‘Father, forgive them’.

Forgive me. Help me to forgive.

From a Friend of Scholastica and a Member of the Lay Community of St Benedict.

Good morning!

Dear Benedict

After a few days walking I’m planning to catch up with some writing beginning with writing to you about your Rule. I’ve been reading what to sing at Lauds, first thing in the morning.

I love to sing in the morning. Not a great singer as a child, I got over my sense of musical unease by singing more. When I worked in London, forty years or so ago, I’d sing as I walked from the station or the bus stop. It can get you some funny looks but where else are you supposed to sing? I love to sing anywhere, outdoors or in, alone or with others. There’s no exercise quite like singing: body, mind and spirit in one activity.

These days, as I walk I also sing. Often it’s something I make up as I go along, a sort of commentary on the walk, the sights and sounds, the weather, how I feel. Anything can be in a walk song! I sometimes think how the psalms were made up, perhaps like this on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem and then passed around the group until everyone got the hang of it. Here’s one of my morning songs that I use in the worship of the Mobile Chapel of St Scholastica (aka Bambi!)

This is the day, a welcome day, 
as welcome as the sun. 
Today we'll live together here 
and get our whole work done. 
Today we’ll care for weak and strong 
That all may grow in love, 
We'll serve each other, serving God 
Creator, Spirit, Son. 

This is the day a welcome day, 
as welcome as the rain. 
As we embrace the challenges 
we know we're loved again; 
We know we can build justice here, 
and learn to live in peace 
We'll serve each other, serving God 
the kindom here will reign. 

This is the day, a welcome day 
whether in rain or sun, 
every day we can be kind 
and laugh and have good fun; 
Today we set out on a road 
together hand in hand 
Companions each and every one 
till travelling days are done. 

copyright Janet Lees Tune: Kingsfold or Forest Green (DCM)
(PS I use the word 'kindom' on purpose: a gender neutral word)

It’s great to sing if you can and to acknowledge God in our Good Morning activities, like the psalmists.

From a remembered psalm: Let every creature sing and praise God.

I’m singing to you!

From a Friend of Scholastica and a Member of the Lay Community of St Benedict.

Still awake!

Dear Benedict

Yes, I’m still awake. Of course, I understand that my version of prayer at night is not like the Night Office you describe. I rarely leave my bed let alone pick up a book. I rely on my remembered bible and psalm snippets rather than full passages of text. Each of us has a way that works and my husband tells me that, yes, he sometimes prays at night too.

One of my favourite night prayers is here with its audio version or inclusive text script and language https://www.anordinaryoffice.co.uk/nocturne

Today my friend in Korea asked me to pray, yesterday it was my friend in Kenya, a few days ago a friend in Uganda. Alongside that are many concerns of people I don’t know, particularly during this Pandemic, as well as quite a lot I don’t agree with: it’s quite a community.

One of the things I do is try to visualise the person or situation I’m praying about in order to sort of take myself there and be alongside them in solidarity. So I imagine the place or space where I saw these people or a photo of them if I can. There are psalm snippets which help me like Psalm 100: All people who live on earth. I don’t sing aloud (so as not to wake my companion) but I do sing in my head. Some nights, it’s all I can do.

From a remembered psalm: All you people living on earth, sing cheerfully to God.

I‘m still awake.

From a Friend of Scholastica and Member of the Lay Community of St Benedict.

Keep watch!

Dear Benedict,

I’m skipping out a bit here, that I’ll come back to later (chapters 2-7) to arrive at chapter 8. One of the gifts of Benedictine spirituality to me is the practice of prayer at night. I was doing it before I met any Benedictines, but the affirmation of night prayer has been a real encouragement. So I’ve moved on to this bit about prayer at night, partly due to current context: the increase in restrictions about COVID19 and the accompanying increase in anxieties of all sorts.

As a child I was afraid of the dark and so I began to pray at night to allay my fears. It seemed the natural thing to do. If I woke up then God was there. This has continued all my life. I would wake often in the later stages of my pregnancy, which is not unusual: I’d pray. In ministry there were wakeful nights: I’d pray. When my mother died and I was mourning, I’d often be awake at night: I’d pray. So too in this Pandemic: I pray.

During the day I often collect up lots of prayer requests and notions. During the night is when I pray many of them. It may not be the complex formula of the night office you describe but it is prayer that rolls unstopping around the world. You liked structure and thought it helped community life, so your words about the night office reflect that. Whatever we face the underlying thought is the same: God hears us at night.

And so I’ve prayed at night in many places: in hospital, at home, in a tent, on a boat, on a train, for example. There are lots more places I’ve not prayed in yet, but who knows? What I do know is that many other people will have found the same thing and this does make a community of sorts, if not the same kind of community that the Rule is about.

At this time high levels of COVID19 infections are driving anxieties of all kinds in all places. It’s not that surprising and neither is it surprising that sleep eludes us. Night prayer is a gift to us all at the moment. I urge anyone who has not already done so to try it.

From some remembered psalms:
The Unsleeping One keeps watch….
Day and night are both alike to God….

Help me to keep watch and pray.

From a Friend of Scholastica and a Member of the Lay Community of St Benedict.