Category Archives: remembered bible

For John the Baptist

He crunched into another locust, wiped the headless body around the last of the honey and popped the final morsel into his mouth. His thoughts were, however elsewhere. His cousin Jesus was on his way to the river. Although it was barely dawn, he stood up, adjusted his camel hair garment, and strode downhill, away from the small cave in which he sometimes rested, to the banks of the Jordan.
Pilgrims were already gathering. As he approached them they stopped chattering and looked to him to speak. A soldier came up to him and asked him “Master, should I stay in the army now I’ve been baptised? ‘ He recognised one of the men he’d baptised the day before. John answered him clearly and firmly so everyone could hear. ‘It’s fine to stay in the army. Work fairly for your pay and don’t abuse your position.’ Then a woman asked him ‘Sir, my sister has made a rich marriage but she will give me nothing. She says I may be a servant in her household but she treats all her servants poorly and I won’t go there. Make her share what she has more fairly with me.’
‘I can’t make anyone do anything’ he replied. ‘I can only remind you all that God requires justice, mercy and humility. Those who fail to show these things will be remembered for it.’
Someone else was approaching and the crowd fell back to let him pass. It was his cousin, Jesus. He came up to John and said ‘Baptize me, John, here in front of everyone, and then I can begin.’
John was not expecting the request. ‘Why me?’ He asked.
‘Its what you do’ Jesus replied. ‘You baptize with water’, his hand indicated the gathered crowd. ‘You give them a new start. I need it too please’, and he began to take off his garment.
‘I’m not worthy’, said John, ‘even to undo your shoes’, as Jesus stooped to do this himself.
‘Please John, do as I ask’, and they walked out into the river together.
The water was deep and dark and the current strong. When they were at the place, John raised his hand and called down God’s blessing on the water and on the one beside him:
‘God of the Red Sea covenant, may this water be a road of liberation, may all who come here find freedom and a new opportunity to be your people, made in your image, called to be faithful.
May this one who is baptised today, be your faithful servant all of his life, dealing justly, offering mercy, walking humbly in your way’.
And with that he plunged Jesus into the depths of the dark water.
As he rose up, water flowing from his body, a loud crack of thunder unexpectedly ripped across the sky. The crowd on the shore looked fearfully at the sky. John and Jesus held each other in an embrace as the earth shook. A dove flew up from the branch of a dead tree and the thunder rumbled again, like a voice, saying ‘My son, my beloved, listen to him’. The sun broke through the clouds and struck the faces of the two men in the river. ‘Live wet, John,’ He said and they made their way back to the shore.

Janet Lees, feast of John the Baptiser.

Another bit of Evening prayer

Additional Evening Prayers for the Mobile Chapel of St Scholastica

Begin with a chant like
Be still And know that I am God,  or similar

Silent reflection on remembered Bible or an encounter from the day, or examen

A magnificat

The Spirit in me, makes God grow bigger and bigger:
I am happy that God is my life line and that God continues to remember me,
the least important of God’s servants.

From now on people will call me blessed
For the amazing things God has done in my presence, lifting up the poor, the marginalised, those considered outsiders,
And putting down the rich, the arrogant, those who show no remorse, who neglect justice: sending them away with nothing.
I remember my forbears and those faithful ones: God forever keeps faith forever.

I see the evening sun go down
I await the rising of the morning Son

Peace be on us and for all for whom we pray.

Janet Lees,  at Launde Abbey,  31.05.2018

Evening prayer

The proposed order of Evening Prayer for the Mobile Chapel of St Scholastica

Begin with a chant like
Kindle a flame, (and light one if you wish),
Or Jesus remember me, or similar.

Silent reflection on remembered Bible or an encounter from the day, or examen.

Nunc dimitiss
God let your servant go in peace,
According to your promise
For I have seen the life line you have provided for me in front of everyone,
To be a light to all outsiders,
And for your unending glory.

God grant us a quiet night

And a peaceful end

Janet Lees at Launde Abbey,  29.05.2018

On the Solemnity of Saint Scholastica

On a day of listening,
Remember that Scholastica listened;

On a day of conversations,
Remember that Scholastica conversed;

On a day of humour,
Remember that Scholastica had a sense of humour;

Lord have Mercy
Christ have Mercy
Lord have Mercy

Where Scripture says ‘and a little child will lead them’
Believe it possible that child could have Downs Syndrome, or additional needs in some way.

Where Scripture says ‘You knew me in my mother’s womb’
Believe it possible that God knows every gene, every chromosome in every individual.

Where Scripture says we are each the temple of the Holy Spirit
Believe in the possibility of each unique temple.

Lord have Mercy
Christ have Mercy
Lord have Mercy

Glory to God, for the diversity of creation;
Glory to God in Christ for the diversity of human beings;
Glory to God, Creator, Son and Spirit, for living and celebrating diversity in the Godhead, now and forever.

In our life and our believing
The love of God

10th February is remembered for Saint Scholastica, sister of Saint Benedict


Quirinius, Governor of Syria

As mentioned at the beginning of chapter 2 of Luke’s gospel, and performed last night in Huddersfield

They blame me, I know they do. The Jews, the Romans, the Christians, my ex- wife: they all blame me. Yet I was no better or worse than the entire imperial family and the legions of Roman administrators who bigged them up. I’d had my moments, strutted my stuff if you like, got a tribute for my military efforts, kept the Pax Romana as best I could. And then it was Syria, keeping the borders, being a diplomat. Me, a diplomat? Orders from Rome to count them, take a census, find out how many there were. Easier said than done. Chaos of course. And in the middle of it one insignificant Jewish couple, her pregnant, him too old for her by far, getting caught up on the route between Galillee and Bethlehem, and I’m done for. My reputation shot to pieces. I was Governor of Syria and it was all down to me. No word about the rest of them, the petty functionaries in every town, taking bribes, cutting corners. The endless Queues, the inadequate planning, the overbooked accommodation and the inevitable communal violence in hot spots like Bethlehem, it was my fault. Ah, Bethlehem, it’s got a lot to answer for. Never been there myself. Avoid all that if I can. Quiet retirement in Rome. A good supply of wine and enough slaves to keep me comfortable.
After all that other trouble in Bethlehem anyone with any sense would give it a wide birth. What happened to them? Heaven knows. She had the baby I think. But born in obscurity, died in obscurity most likely I reckon. Won’t be hearing from them again. But me, different matter, one little census and they never leave you alone. Governor of Syria, well you do better then.

And finally, two thousand years later…..
We pray for Syria,
Squeezed land, fought over, burnt and damaged.
Cities destroyed, people scattered.
We pray for the people of Syria,
And particularly for the children,
Those still there and those who moved,
Voluntarily or under duress, refugees,
Stranded, identity gone, no security,
What future?
We pray for Syria,
Not the first place in the news,
Not the place nearest to our hearts,
Not glamorous or celebrated,
We pray for the people of Syria of all ages
Looking for hope,
Looking for an end to suffering,
Looking for peace.

In our coming and our going,  the peace of God. 

The son

The sun shone on Langermaark today
Which I don’t remember it doing before.
The acorns crunched under our feet,
As the canopy of heroes oaks wept for their sons.
Here they lie; students, artists,
others too numerous to imagine,
With three crosses to recall
the promise made by the Son:
‘Today you will be with me in paradise’.

JAL 23.10.2017

A blessing a Hospital Farm cemetery 

The blessing of the Creator, watching like the deer;
The blessing of the Son, running like the Hare;
The blessing of the Holy Spirit, hovering like the buzzard;
Bless those who tread this holy ground
And those waiting for the final trumpet sound.

JAL 23.10.2017

He descended into hell

Down, down, down
Into the dark earth,
Through the white limestone,
Along the barely lit tunnel,
Past the latrines,
The command post,
The altar and the well,
To eight days of dripping darkness
Of boards for beds and meals from cans,
Of icy water for washing and damp boots,
Before standing ready at the steps
In the cold light of predawn,
When your name’s called and the signal given,
The stone is moved
And like the tomb quitting gardener,
you emerge as a newborn lamb,
To the barrage and the bomb:
A shell bursts overhead
And it’s ‘killed in action’ on the telegram,
And ‘greater love has no one than this’
On the neatly cut stone.

In our life and our believing
The love of God

JAL 22.10.2017
Wellington Quarry, Arras, 1917.

Feed my sheep

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I do wonder what a small town carpenter would have know about sheep rearing. But then again the image crops up many times in the Hebrew scriptures. The idea that people were ‘the sheep of God’s hand’ would therefore have been commonplace and the image would have worked for Peter and for all the others on that basis alone.
For my part, I like sheep but have very little to do with real ones. Even so hearing these words on the radio this morning was enough to push me gently but firmly into the image again, and find there a playground for imagination which is the ‘fundation’ of remembering the bible.
I’m willing to feed the sheep. I started the week a bit cranky, my mind not quite on task, but by the end I was once again fully engaged and bouncing in the meadows. It was the sheep wot did it, in this instance the children and young people. Worshipping together and then waiting and listening with them got me back on track again. ‘Can I talk to you Rev?’ The same question in a new office with boxes piled up everywhere and other things to avoid tripping over. One said ‘I forgot to thank you for your help last year so I came today to thank you’. Well by the end of that little speech I was eating out of their hands again.
So the sheep aren’t the problem. But the sheepdog trails are, or the Synods as we call them. Not just them but all the other sheep trading paraphenalia of Country Fairs and Auctions and Markets. You see, that first command to ‘Feed my sheep’ soon got hijacked and developed into a full scale industry which now spends more time preserving itself than getting on with feeding the sheep. And it’s all that I have the problem with. You might argue that the gospel would not have survived without it. My point now is can it survive with it?
For the next few weeks our chapel theme is ‘All one’ and that notion Paul sent to the Christians in Galatia two thousand years ago that ‘In Christ’s family there are no divisions between Jew and Greek, slave and free, male and female’. Because of course there still are. But what does that look like from the perspective of a young person today. A much greater understanding of diversity in some ways and a much narrower toleration of ‘others’ in another. Two thousand years ago people from modern day Iraq and Syria were making their way across the North of England. They were Romans and Hadrian’s Wall was their highway. They bought with them many new ideas, including the stories of the carpenter and his friends and the command to ‘Feed my Sheep.
So free yourself from the preservation order and get on with living with and sharing the story yourself.

In our life and our believing
The Love of God

In memory of her

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Our gardens here are small so I mostly go for containers. I try to make them attractive to insects using wild flowers and well known garden plants. My neighbour Sue also had a lot of containers. One always had sweet peas. She died last year in the summer, when the sweet peas were flowering. She said ‘no funeral, thanks’ so I grew these from those sweet pea seeds in memory of her.
We do remember you, Sue.

In our coming and our going
The peace of God

At the bottom of the mountain: words for Brian Neville

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Opening prayer
Gathering God,
Gather us in, embrace us all
Bring us together
To remember and celebrate
A life lived and a life loved.
Guiding God,
Guide us onwards,
That together we may forge new directions
In love and service.
Generous God
Equip us all
By your Holy Spirit
That the Gifts we have by your Grace
be released to bring new life and hope here and everywhere.

Prayers of intercession 
We pray for the courage and imagination to pursue complex research projects, the empathy and understanding to support the children and families who use our services, the openness and respect to encourage our colleagues in the days ahead and for increased awareness among ordinary people of these needs of children with epilepsy and their families.
In your mercy, hear our prayer

Bible reading: Mark 9:14-29

Sermon: At the bottom of the mountain
I first met Brian Neville in a lift in Guys hospital in 1984. He said ‘I hear you are interested in language and the brain’ and I replied ‘I’m interested in much more than that’. One of the things I was interested in was a collection of texts about 2000 years old about the life and ministry, death and resurrection of one Jesus of Nazareth, a portion of which we heard read.

Here are some of my sermon notes about that text:
1. A 2000 year old text, epilepsy is an ancient condition, a word from the Greek, meaning ‘seized with surprise’, and some see the origins of stigma associated with epilepsy today to be found in these ancient sources.
People with disabilities have found marginalisation and discrimination in texts like these, texts the church has often used to preach restrictive and confining theologies and impose views of faith and healing, rather than liberating theologies based on the lived experiences of disabled people.
So can such texts be redeemed? Let’s see shall we.

2. Doing RB (remembering the Bible), interpreting with those on the margins, children and those with communication difficulties. Another way of interpreting that is contextual. Can children interpret the Bible? They do it everyday. Some Stories of interpretation
A young man with cerebral palsy told me how he imagined it would have been to be a disabled person in the crowd on Palm Sunday ;
A teenager with dyslexia summarised the Easter story in three words: Jesus is back;
A 7 year old carrying the processional cross in a strong wind, declares carrying the Cross makes your arms hurt.

      For every story of inclusion there are others of exclusion:
      The parents of a child with LKS wanted to take him to church but found they were not welcome when he made sounds others couldn’t interpret;
      A young man with a communication aid was told not to play with his toy in the service
      A boy with autism climbed over the members of the congregation who impeded his path to the front of the church: what about developing a climbing wall in the church for him and the community? Too many unused vertical spaces. Too many closed in holy huddles that need opening outwards.

A boy, aged 16, says my favourite part of the gospel is…..
So pause for a moment and think, what is your favourite part of the gospel? That’s your remembered Bible.
His favourite part of the gospel: when Jesus was baptised by John and he got the Holy Spirit and God said ‘this is my son, I am well pleased with him’

3. Our interpretations today take us to the heart of the life of this family. I don’t just read this text, I live it. So do you, you know this child and this family even if,  in the words of one boy with epilepsy, ‘He Don’t Talk’.
In some encounters not talking is a problem:How to proceed? How we started in the old Newcomen Centre, or the shed as we called it,  with bubbles and bowls of water and progressed to the Wolfson centre, just another shed, and the Aristocats video via the patella hammer and ophthalmoscope.
Some professionals would say:
‘You just tell them what they want to hear’, which used to puzzle me.
The aim of any encounter is to listen so that understanding develops.
The cry of the father in the story was ‘I believe, help my unbelief’: a cry not just for help but for partnership. So what is faith like in the second decade of the 21st century? Certainly not uniform or one dimensional.

4. Some ask me: Did Brian speak of faith? My answer is Yes and No.
For example, he asked me about my understanding of Communion: ‘Isn’t it just sharing bread, feeding people?’ His was a down to earth faith.
But also No, he just got on with it, because that was faith to him. Don’t need to talk about it, do it, wear it like a coat everyday, not to hide behind but so that it wears thin at the elbows, becomes a series of patches.

5. The Faith we live by everyday, it’s full of questions, doubt, uncertainty as much as anything else. Prayer, also mentioned in the text, is a breathing space that gives faith time to activate, like yeast. So what about prayer? Did we pray? I never stopped doing it everyday, bringing time and space for reflection and silence onto the clinic room.
But I’ve stood beside him in the chapel at Guys and GOSH, in both formal and informal worship, and we’ve sat in silence together, like the morning after my daughter Hannah when a toddler was admitted to GOSH with a spinal abcess. Prayer is not a placebo, but a piece of genuine work, of holding and listening.

6. Living life at the bottom of the mountain, is also the turn in the route that takes Jesus downhill to Jerusalem.
Understanding epilepsy is like being at the bottom of a mountain.
But we are not alone there.
After his mountain top experience, with Moses and Elijah, the two greats of the Hebrew Scriptures, Jesus came back to the bottom of the mountain, to the everyday lives of ordinary people like this child with epilepsy and his family.
Depends which voices we listen to, what we hear. Whatever our clinical or research work or theology it must amplify the voices of those silenced by their condition, or service limitations, or discrimination they encounter.
When others were speaking of Brian’s hopeful outlook this morning, to me that was the living Gospel in him.
How did this child and his family remember and retell the story afterwards? That brings me to making the Bible up, with which I’m sometimes charged and which I often do.
(there’s an example in Word of Mouth page 109).
And to Brian I would say, ‘It’s like Communion, real bread, living on scraps, enough to feed everyone’.
Jesus went onto Jerusalem, you know the rest of the story: passion, suffering and new life. And the family, what happened to them? You meet them everyday. Listen then if you have ears.

In the chapel at GOSH, there’s a sculpture shaped like an eye, in the centre of which there’s a small family. This image inspired the words of this blessing.

Blessing

In God’s eye, today and everyday;
In Christ’s footsteps, today and everyday;
Blessed by the Holy Spirit,  now and forever;
In the name of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen.

These words were from the service to celebrate the life and work of Professor Brian Neville held on 3rd May 2017 at St George’s Church, Queen’s Square. They are notes only, not a complete script but hopefully make sufficient sense.