How Michelangelo’s Pieta Impacted on a Mother Grieving the Loss of Her Child.

Background:

 I first noticed the Pieta following the traumatic death of my son. Coming from church background where Mary, mother of Jesus, is not given any great prominence, I discovered her importance to me as a mother who had lost a child, which invoked a deep questioning of belief and faith.[1]

Background:

I have discovered that my experience best resonates with a feminist trauma theology. By confronting God amidst grieving, my understanding and reflection of the events surrounding my son’s death have been a way of trying to make sense of it.

The need for a “thick” description and reflection on the experience is outside of the remit of this case study but examples can be found in appendix 1.

Restrictions to the study

Whilst the Pieta is not found in scripture, it is an historic theme, from the mystics in 13^th century Germany. Mary, mother of Christ, cradles the body of Jesus in her arms. There are different types; however in order to manage the scope of this case study I have focused on perhaps the most famous Pieta, that of Michelangelo’s, hitherto referred to as “La Pieta”. [2]

My own bias cannot be ignored in this case study, that of a white middle-class female and mother, and as part of feminist theology this is essential for reflexive writing.[3]

Grieving and Art

In modern times in the developed world, there is said to be no precedent for the “catastrophic, wrenching and disabling” loss of a child where the parent is rendered helpless.[4] The mother’s self-confidence and self-belief are shaken by the often overwhelming guilt at failing to protect her child. Whether or not it is a biological or social construct, mothers generally appear to grieve with more intensity than Fathers. Perhaps this is because the baby has been physically part of the mother; and indeed remaining a mother to her dead child remains core in her identity. Whilst a man grieves for a dead child, the woman “grows life and howls in death”[5].

There is a danger with these assumptions, however.  What of the non- biological mother figure? These theories would assume that anything less than biologically carrying, labouring and bodily nourishing a child somehow would bring about a lesser grief. Indeed, focusing on the differences of how men and women grieve could be said to impose gender roles.[6] My husband’s grief was not less, but different; so I would argue that grief is unique, regardless of gender or biological ties, and based on individual relationships. Nonetheless, my own experience is that of a biological mother recalling the physical memory of growing a child in her womb and nourishing at the breast.

Art speaks into grief, releasing both lament and the very physical symptoms of general distress, functional impairment, depression and anxiety associated with grieving.[7]  When grieving is beyond words, it is images, poetry and writing that help to express the deepest feelings, speaking into our situations, and can be consoling in the worst moments.[8] 

Pieta

The triangular form of La Pieta, (appendix 2) serves to create a sense of balance and harmony in keeping with Michelangelo’s style.[9] The enhanced size of Mary, with Jesus delicately draped across keeps this balance but may also be suggestive of Mary imagining she was holding Jesus as a baby once again, when he would have fitted perfectly on her lap. [10]                                   

Mary is shown to be youthful and unblemished, which Michelangelo, believing in Mary’s immaculate conception and perpetual chastity, common at that time, said was due to her purity.[11] Death was also common in the 15^th century, so beauty and youth offered a sense of escapism and the reassurance. [12]

From my own experience, when a mother loses her child she remembers their birth and life as well as their death, so I can relate to the possibility of Mary imagining she was holding Jesus as a baby.

Mary is a historical Jewish middle-aged woman whose grief in the traumatic death of her son connects her with many bereaved women, and yet in La Pieta there is no evidence of the raw grief or age in her face.

Age can be beautiful, but death is ugly and excruciatingly painful for the ones left behind; death rips the loved one away from you. Eyes are swollen and ache with crying and there is nothing beautiful about identifying a body swollen and disfigured by death.

But in between the crying, there was a stillness in me, borne out of the contradictions of disbelief in my son’s death and belief in knowing my son was resting in God’s eternal presence.

The happy memories of him as a baby, growing up, enjoying the love and protection of his mother were the memories I chose to recall- and so the young Mary, beautifully poised in marble with her son draped over her was something that resonated with me. And there was the beauty, rather than the ugliness; the hope juxta positioned with despair.

Because Mary is a symbol of all that is pure in Michelangelo’s La Pieta, her own reality can be lost. Her life was a real human journey in which she lived and suffered as we do; and it was viewing her as a mother, not as a venerated saint and God bearer that spoke to me and made me appreciate her in a new way.[13]

Another notable aspect to La Pieta is Mary’s left hand facing upwards as if reaching out. One interpretation is that grief is “open ended and unexpected”, or that it beckons worshippers to draw nearer and meditate on the death of her son.[14] Both are relevant for the grieving mother. There is a desire for others to know about your child, for their death to have some meaning and for their memory to live on, inviting others into this. When the unimaginable happens and your child is torn from you in this life, for me there was a sense of complete submission to God, hands open and raised to God for strength to carry on.

A painting or sculpture captures a moment in a fixed time, and in this moment of grief, the nature of which changes hour by hour at first, captures Mary’s bowed head, “in submission” to God,  for what else can one do in the emptiness between the tears?

Yet we return to Mary’s serenity which somehow seems to deny her sadness, the male artist expecting her to be accepting, and how this reveals the attitudes at that time towards women grieving. There is a history of distressed women being considered insane and in Judaism when the woman cries at the grave or leaves mementos she is considered unbalanced.[15] The male however can recite the Kaddish, a mourner’s prayer and is seen to be obeying God’s law in the community.[16] Examples of male mourning in the Bible include that for Stephen the first martyr, “Devout men buried Stephen and made loud lamentation over him”, despite them being reassured of his eternity, and of course, “Jesus began to weep”, the words coming from “tear” suggesting that Jesus’ grief was more than serene, he was in fact deeply troubled in grief. [17] So there seems to be a gender inequality around the male being allowed to mourn openly but the female, and one so virtuously depicted as Mary, being passive and young and beautiful in their grief.

This passivity, suffering and focus on Mary’s motherhood could be seen to be oppressive rather than helpful because she is could be seen as helpless.[18] Yet Mary is anything but helpless in her life; she sings her song of praise, after the trauma of finding herself pregnant, allowing herself to make sense of what has happened to her and move forward with it. [19]

The serenity of Mary in La Pieta could be attributed to her feeling numb with disbelief and shock, often the first emotions on encountering the death of a loved one. [20] Indeed my first emotions varied between numbness and stillness to body shaking sobs. I was alternately silent, composed and socially acceptable, but also ugly and loud in my grieving and lament, being offered sedation to quieten me.

There are many contradictions in both grieving and how Mary is portrayed. The poem, “The Contradictions of Mary” perfectly sums this up,[21]  (appendix 3). La Pieta could be classed as a visual poem, and other pietas do show Mary older, wrinkled, angry and bewildered (appendix 4), which when viewed alongside others demonstrates the swings of emotions in grieving. [22]

Conclusion

La Pieta was powerful for me in the grieving of my son. It has enabled me to relate to Mary as another mother who understood what it was to experience such trauma. It enabled me to contemplate and pray on something that was beyond my understanding. La Pieta was just one among many Pietas that spoke to me, however, and depended on my grief at any one time. Although there are contradictions in how to view this artwork, there are many contradictions in grief which is reflected in my own experience. Therefore viewing different pietas could assist the grieving mother at different times reflecting the changing emotions that Mary portrays in this type of art.

Appendix 1

Thick description (amended extract from my blog)[23]

I have been married for 31 years and have 3 children. My oldest two have been married for 5 years and my youngest has been in Heaven since the  24th July 2013 (aged 16)

We were holidaying in in South West France and it was the first day in our main resort and my daughter’s 19^th birthday. My oldest son had stayed at home. As a family we met up for lunch and then mid-afternoon went to the beach. My husband and youngest son went into the sea.

They were within their depths at chest level and there were plenty of other people in the sea. My husband felt a tugging and advised my youngest to come further in shore with him but when he turned around to check our youngest had disappeared.

There was a large rescue operation employed which continued over the next couple of days. Early on Saturday 27th July my son’s body was found by a fisherman. He had drowned in what appears to have been a rip current.

In the months that followed we had two breaks away as a couple and my brokenness and then healing was facilitated by visits to many churches abroad which is where I first came across the Pieta.

The thing about Mary (Extract from blog written on 19^th September 2013)

Musings: The letter and the Cross, the thing about Mary, and Crossing and Kneeling!

Anyway- as I am (or thought I was!) firmly at the “low church” end of the Church of England- in other words nowhere near Anglo – Catholic with its “bells and smells”, I have discovered I now view Mary, Mother of God in a new light. It’s not that I didn’t think of her part in Jesus life, it’s just that it doesn’t feature so largely in the church tradition I am closest too. However, I have found myself considering her grief at seeing her Son rejected, tortured and killed. The Son she carried in her womb and who brought her both joy and such pain. Mary and I share a grief. Mary understands what it is to give birth, bring her child up, watch him grow into a young man and then unnaturally die. Mary understands me. After all- God may have been through everything but He didn’t give birth did He? He didn’t breastfeed, did He?

When I went to the Convent recently and considered the Stations of the Cross- again not something that I’m overly familiar with- there was a painting of Jesus reaching out to his mother and it spoke so much to me. I want to reach out to my son, to pull him back to me so I can hug him and kiss him and tell him I love him. But I guess I have to accept that is what God has done and looks after him. I do find myself asking God at times though, “was I not a good enough mum to him? Did I not love him enough? Is that why you took Him from me- to do a better job? To love him more?”.

Appendix 2

La Pieta by Michelangelo

Appendix 3

The Contradictions of Mary by Nicola Slee (in The Book of Mary- see bibliography)

She is sorrowful

She is not sorrowful

She is joyful

She doesn’t know how to belly laugh

She is source of all freedom

She is bound for ever in chains

She is the liberator of all who cry to her

She is a tool of oppression in the hands of the hierarchy

She is mother of all dead and living

She is no one’s mother, not mine, not yours, not even Jesus’s any more

She is virgin most pure and holy

She is defiled by corruption and abuse

She is comfort of all the afflicted and sorrowing

She keeps the afflicted reconciled to their afflictions

She is goddess, she is the face of the deity

She is transcendence, eternal salvific mystery

She is just a woman, for God’s sake:

A common-as-muck illiterate peasant

Appendix 4

Belini Pieta 1505

Rottgen Pieta (Vesperbild) late 1200s

Mother with her dead son- Kathe Kollwitz (a secular “Pieta” at Neue Wache, Berlin)

The Pieta – Drew Merritt

Bibliography

Abdou, Kelly Richman, Exploring Michelangelo’s “Pieta”, a Masterpiece of Renaissance Sculpture, 21/10/19 https://mymodernmet.com/michelangelo-pieta/ on 3/3/21

Burke, Jill, The Wordlessness of grief in Michelangelo’s Pieta, https://renresearch.wordpress.com/2020/05/29/the-wordlessness-of-grief-in-michelangelos-pieta-art-pickings-5/

Finichel, Emily A.,  “Michelangelo’s Pieta as a Tomb Monument: Patronage, Liturgy and Mourning”, in Renaissance Quarterly, Vol.70, 2017, pp.862-896

Harries, Rt Revd Lord, The Pieta in Art, Museum of London Lecture 31/3/15 https://gresham.ac.uk/lectures-and-events/the pieta-in-art

Ferber, Ilit and Schwebel, V., (eds.), Lament in Jewish Thought: Philosophical, Theological, and Literary Perspectives, (1st ed)., Berlin: De Gruyter,  2014, pp. 33–64.

Herman, Judith, Trauma and Recovery: From Domestic Abuse to Political Terror, London: Pandorra, 2001.

Johnson, Elizabeth A., Truly Our Sister: A Theology of Mary in the Communion of Saints, London: Continuum, 2009

Knight, Dawn The Journey of Dawn, Blog 2013, https://wordpress.com/view/thejourneyofdawn.wordpress.com

Lawson, Anna, Pieta by Fenwick Lawson….Unique Insights from his Daughter https://stcuthbertsfinaljourney.com/2013/03/17/pieta-by-fenwick-lawson-unique-insights-from-his-daughter/ [Accessed 4th March 2021]

Lee, Revd V. and Eke, R. Dr., Is Grief a Women’s Room: Some Feminist Aspects of Practical Theology in Responding to the Death of a Life Partner, London: Amazon, 2017

O Donnell, Karen and Cross, Kate, (eds.), Feminist Trauma Theologies: Body, Scripture and Church in Critical Perspective, London: SCM, 2020

Parkes, Colin Murray and Prigerson, Holly G,. Bereavement: Studies of Grief in Adult Life, (4th ed),  London: Penguin, 2010

Riches, Gordon and Dawson, Pam, An Intimate Loneliness: Supporting Bereaved Parents and Siblings, Buckingham: Open University, 2000

Roscoff, Barbara D., The Worst Loss: How Families Heal from the Death of a Child, New York: Holt, 1994

Sands, Kathleen M., “Tragedy, Theology, and Feminism in the Time after Time,” in New Literary History, 35, 1, 2004, pp. 41–61.

Slee, Nicola, The Book of Mary, London: SPCK, 2007

Slee, Nicola., Porter, F and Phillips, A., (eds.), Researching Female Faith: London: Routledge, 2018

Walters, Geoff, Why do Christians Find it Hard to Grieve? Carlisle: Paternoster,1997

Weiskittle, R.E and Gramling, S.E., “The Therapeutic Effectiveness of Using Visual Art Modalities with the Bereaved: a Systematic Review”, in Psychol Res Behav Manag. 11, 2018), pp.9-24

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[1] Susan Starr Sered, “Mother Love, Child Death and Religious Innovation: A Feminist Perspective”, in Journal of Feminist Studies in Religion, 12,. 1, 1996, pp.5-23. (p.5)

[2] William, H Forsyth, “Medieval Statues of the Pieta in the Museum” in The Metropolitan Museum of Art Bulletin, 11, 7, 1953, pp.177-184; (p.180); Anna Lawson, Pieta by Fenwick Lawson, 17 March 2013 https://stcuthbertsfinaljourney.com/2013/03/17/pieta-by-fenwick-lawson-unique-insights-from-his-daughter/ [Last accessed 21/1/21] Rt Revd Lord Harries, The Pieta in Art, Museum of London Lecture 31/3/15  https://gresham.eac.uk/lectures-and-events/the pieta-in-art [Last accessed at 3/3/21]; Kelly Richman Abdou, Exploring Michelangelo’s “Pieta”, a Masterpiece of Renaissance Sculpture, 21/10/19 [Last accessed at https://mymodernmet.com/michelangelo-pieta/ on 3/3/21]; Emily A. Finichel, “Michelangelo’s Pieta as a Tomb Monument: Patronage, Liturgy and Mourning”, in Renaissance Quarterly, 70, 1, 2017, https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/renaissance-quarterly/article/abs/michelangelos-pieta-as-tomb-monument-patronage-liturgy-and-mourning/BB4E9C30082B574BE277FB1009C6AA46  [Last accessed online 1/2/21]; Harries, The Pieta in Art; Elizabeth A. Johnson, Truly Our Sister: A Theology of Mary in the Communion of Saints, London: Continuum, 2009, p.294

[3] J.Berry, “Writing the Self”, in Researching Female Faith, by Nicola Slee, Fran Porter and Anne Phillips (eds.), London: Routledge, 2018, p.207

[4] Barbara D. Roscoff, The Worse Loss: How Families Heal from the Death of a Child, New York: Holt, 1994, p.3;5; Judith Herman, Trauma and Recovery: From Domestic Abuse to Political Terror, London: Pandorra, 2001, p.33

[5] Gordon Riches and Pam Dawson, An Intimate Loneliness: Supporting Bereaved Parents and Siblings, Buckingham: Open University, 2000, p.64-70; Colin Murray Parkes and Holly G. Prigerson, Bereavement Studies of Grief in Adult Life (4^th ed), London: Penguin, 2010, p.143; V Lee and R. Eke, Is Grief a Women’s Room? UK:Amazon:2017, p.26; Judith Herman, Trauma and Recovery: From Domestic Abuse to Political Terror, London: Pandorra, 2001, p.33, Sered, “Mother Love, Child Death and Religious Innovation”, p.15

[6] Santiago Pinon, “Losing a Child: A Father’s Methodological Plight” in Feminist Trauma Theologies: Body, Scripture and Church in Critical Perspective, Karen O’Donnell and Katie Cross,(eds), London: SCM, 2020, p.249

[7] R.E, Weiskittle and  S.E.,Gramling, “The therapeutic effectiveness of using visual art modalities with the bereaved: a systematic review”, in Psychol Res Behav Manag., 11, 2018, pp.9-24. (p.14)

[8] Lawson, Pieta by Fenwick Lawson; Kathleen M. Sands, “Tragedy, Theology, and Feminism in the Time after Time.” In New Literary History, 35, 1, 2004, pp. 41–61, (p. 42); Gemma Simmonds, “Contemplating Mary in Art” at Fairest thou, where all art fair: Contemplating Mary in Poetry, Art and Music, http://www.walsinghamanglican.org.uk/worship/priestsanddeacons/wedsthurs [Last accessed on 3^rd February 2021]

[9] Anna Magnusson, At the Foot of the Cross: The Art of Christ’s Passion, Death and Resurrection: Pieta, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qwQqWIZauul [Last accessed 21/1/21]; Abdou, Exploring Michelangelo’s “Pieta”

[10] Abdou, Exploring Michelangelo’s “Pieta”

[11] Harries, The Pieta in Art; Joynel Fernades, “Picturing the Passion: ‘Pieta’by Michelangelo”, in Art and Culture, 26/3/18, https://aleteia.org/2018/03/26/picturing-the-passion-pieta-by-michelangelo/  [Last accessed 21/1/21] 

[12] Jill Burke, The Wordlessness of Grief in Michelangelo’s Pieta at https://renresearch.wordpress.com/2020/05/29/the-wordlessness-of-grief-in-michelangelos-pieta-art-pickings-5/[Last accessed 3/3/21]

[13] Johnson, Truly Our Sister, p.100; 110

[14] Finichel, “Michelangelo’s Pieta as a Tomb Monument”, p.878; Fernades, “Picturing the Passion”, p.6; Burke, The Wordlessness of Grief in Michelangelo’s Pieta.

[15] Karen O’ Donnell, Broken Bodies: The Eucharist, Mary, and the Body in Trauma Theology, London: SCM, 2018, p.5; Elizabeth A. Johnson, Truly Our Sister: A Theology of Mary in the Communion of Saints, London: Continuum, 2009, p.99 Sered, “Mother Love, Child Death and Religious Innovation”, pp5-23 (p.19)

[16] Sered, “Mother Love, Child Death and Religious Innovation”, p.17

[17] Acts 8:2; John 11:35

[18] Nicola Slee, The Book of Mary, London: SPCK, 2007, p.91; Sered, “Mother Love, Child Death and Religious Innovation”, p.21

[19] Karen O’Donnell and Katie Cross,(eds), Feminist Trauma Theologies: Body, Scripture and Church in Critical Perspective, London: SCM, 2020, p.11; Rowan Williams, “Contemplating Mary in Poetry” at Fairest thou, where all art fair: Contemplating Mary in Poetry, Art and Music, Walsingham Lecture, http://www.walsinghamanglican.org.uk/worship/priestsanddeacons/monand tues/ 2nd February 2021 [Last accessed2/2/21]; Luke 1:46-55

[20] Geoff Walters, Why do Christians Find it Hard to Grieve? Carlisle: Paternoster, 1997,p.119

[21] Slee, The Book of Mary, London: SPCK, 2007, p.91

[22] Burke, The Wordlessness of grief in Michelangelo’s Pieta, Nancy Ross, Essay, accessed http://www.khanacademy.org/humanities/ap-art-history/early-europe-and-colonial-americas/medieval-europe-islamic-world/a/rottgen-pieta 08/02/21

[23] Dawn Knight, The Journey of Dawn, blog, 2013 at https://wordpress.com/view/thejourneyofdawn.wordpress.com

Waiting…..

So here we are, Maundy Thursday. There have been days when I have wanted to write since Christmas but have lacked the time. Any time I have at the moment seems to be thinking about or writing essays for college…. or having a nap! Things have certainly gone up a notch this year with the quantity of assignments plus the depth of the topics. I’m feeling crotchety that the Doctrine essay that was due back 2 weeks ago still hasn’t been returned – and it’s clearly not going to happen now for a couple of weeks! Rather annoying that us students have to juggle full time work with ensuring we submit an essay that will pass ON TIME and then it’s well overdue being marked! Anyway moan over.

What would have been Kieran’s 21^st birthday came and went on Epiphany. There is a sense that time has passed now- that at 21 he would not have been the 16 year old we loved and knew and saw last in this life. Trying to think and understand what he might have been like now, what he’d be doing, who he’d be in love with, etc. is pointless and something that gets harder as the clock ticks on.

I am trying desperately hard to live my life in a place of meaningful waiting at the moment. I am aware of the pressures of college work, aware that I am changing, aware that I am still working and wanting to do a good job there, that we are still living where we have mostly always lived, that my children here on earth are now 2 (ish) years married and that in the next 2-3 years I think both want to start, or think about starting families.  I almost feel my life is suspended at the moment- not in a negative way but knowing that hopefully towards the end of the year I will start to learn more about where my curacy will be, be in a position to sell the house (our home for the last 28 years), and start to move towards the transition that awaits. I look forward and yearn for a time when if blessed with a grandchild I will be able to hold a baby in my arms again. I can still feel Kieran’s weight in my arms when I close my eyes and picture him as a baby.  I am keen for things to move forward now- but I am waiting, waiting…. trying to be patient.

I feel in between now with my church- the place where I really became a Christian, where I have worshipped for the last 22 years, the community in which my children grew up in the Christian faith, where Kieran was baptised, had his funeral and where his ashes are interred. The place where both Tara and Aidan were married, where I fell in love with God and felt the love of Jesus and the power of the Holy Spirit in me and surrounding me in my church family as we grieved.  I am forever emotionally tied ….and yet… I almost feel now that I am looking on, that I am pulling away- not from God, but from this dear place that has been my home and where I have been loved for so long. I yearn for God, I yearn to make a difference, I yearn to be able to devote myself fully to God’s mission in the world and can feel the pull away to some other, as yet unknown place.

Am I afraid? Am I scared? I can honestly say no I am not. Impatient, wondering, anxious- yes- but not scared. I think that having faced the worst thing I could ever imagine in losing my son so suddenly and unexpectedly, all other life changes seem far more minor.

I know that I am now following the path God has called me for- I could not have thought up such a daft idea as being ordained all by myself- believe me! I’ve been a nurse for 32 years since I was 18, I’m a wife, a mother, daughter, sister, etc.- but it feels as though all the things that have made me who I am, my flaws and insecurities and my own vulnerabilities, as well as my gifts (whatever they might be), are about to be poured out into ordained ministry- the sense of going from a person who does things for God to a person who exists for God- if that makes any kind of sense!

I am impatient. I am impatient too to see my youngest son again. Not in any unhealthy way- but perhaps it is with me being 50 in August, with seeing my other 2 being married, seeing grandchildren as a very real possibility- that I realise over half my own life has probably been lived (I may make it to 100- who knows!) and that in this sense of journey I will be bathed in eternal light of God and in some way be reunited with Kieran again one day.

I miss him very much, I suppose I always will. I miss him as he was, and what he would have become. I feel guilty that my life continues without him and his vividness fades a little. I miss having new photos of him to look at… and yet these pills! These “happy pills”, these “helping hormone pills”, these “middle aged peri-menopausal women pills” have numbed me somewhat. I notice that at times when I would have cried before, although I still feel it, I don’t breakdown. … and sometimes, bizarrely, actually I want to! I want to vent my emotions, I want to cry out at the unfairness and the unjustness in this world, I want to scream at God…. And yet I am oddly numbed….. so is that a good thing.. or a bad thing? Well before I was an emotional wreck for no particular reason and now I am able to cope with all the pressures I have with a clear, albeit numb brain!

Anyway today is Maundy Thursday- I went to Church .. and came back again- I had not realised/ forgotten that the service was mixed with a meal… and I’d already eaten, hadn’t put my name down and wanted to get back to Kevin- I have been away a lot this week and am away again on Easter Sunday until next Friday at College for Easter school- and I think that has added to my feelings of not being able to breathe much for the next 2 weeks.

I have to confess that this Easter I am missing last year’s Easter school! Last year we spent Holy week at college. We were immersed in Christ’s journey to the cross, the pain- and then the glorious resurrection. Last year we had quiet time built in, evenings free and space for reflection and socialisation. This year’s Easter school is full-on from 8am breakfast through to 7.45pm every evening (except one when we finish an hour earlier I think!), and I can’t say I am particularly relishing the thought of this! I think I must be getting to be a bit of a lightweight! With all the driving I’ve done this week (Wolverhampton- London return. Midlands to Eastleigh and then 4.5 hours up to Port Sunlight over the space of 4 days) I have actually felt exhausted and in need of more naps!

One thing I started in January and have kept up and am really enjoying is tap dancing and hey- guess what? I’m going to be in a show at the start of November! (I hope it doesn’t clash with a residential weekend). I’m also hoping to do the 26 mile walk around London again this year with Tara who feels we should do it again in Kieran’ memory (since it will be 5 years since his death) and to raise money again for the Children’s’ society and Lifeboats- but again- need to find out when my residential weekends will be in my 3^rd year. Aidan  is walking the underground stations this year in memory of his brother and to raise money, and this adds up to over 300 or so miles…

We are going to France this year- and will be visiting the beach at Messanges again. I think that will be the final time. When we went 3 years ago it was still raw. All we did was stand at the top by the coast guards huts and look out to sea and cry. This year I have decided that I want to actually walk on the beach where we had placed ourselves, walk down to the seashore- perhaps- if I’m strong enough- take some sand from the beach home with me. Perhaps I’ll be able to find a little vial to add to my chain that holds my cross, my locket with Kieran’s hair in it and his baptism St Christopher pendant.

But back to Maundy Thursday, our remembering of the last supper that Jesus had with his disciples.  Tomorrow, Good Friday, is the day when my saviour Jesus Christ was crucified and then we have Holy Saturday- a day of remembering and waiting and vigil followed by the joy of Christ’s resurrection on Easter morning. As with everything at present- I feel rather numb this year but know that this will pass. Being a Christian isn’t a state of being in perpetual wonder and on a high with God- there are times where you look for God, can’t feel him near and wonder where he has gone- but this makes the times of renewal and refreshment ever more sweeter. It’s about storing up the good times, when God has been near, remembering how he has pulled you though previously so that you know with calm assurance that he is doing so/ will do so again. And this isn’t because I deserve it, it’s because God died for me, took all that I have ever done wrong and will do wrong, in thoughts, words and actions upon himself by dying on the cross and then by beating death so that in his grace I am saved. I just have to believe and follow him. Thanks be to God, Amen

 

Hormones!

I don’t have the urge to write my blog. I usually write when I need to pour out my feelings, make sense of things or if I have discovered something about me and this journey of mine post-Kieran. (Life forever divided into before and after Kieran’s death). This has been an ordinary day but it is for this reason that I am writing. I am not sad, upset, thinking of Kieran any more than usual, although that is likely to change as we hit Christmas and his birthday on Epiphany. But I thought it was important to write sometimes when I don’t feel the need in order to give a balanced view now to my everyday life without him. I’m not sure what I’m going to write so we’ll see what comes out as I muse.

The last time I wrote I had been very low and had been on a downward slope for several months- without rhyme or reason. I just felt sad all the time, had lost interest in swimming, reading for pleasure, etc. my concentration and memory were shocking, my self-esteem was low and my ability to multi-task and be organised was taking a huge amount of effort. I got by because although I am extremely self-critical and felt I just wasn’t doing well, I still manage to get things done at work on half a battery and I was managing to pass my assignments at college comfortably. But I was so slow, I was working at snail’s pace, had to keep refocusing. I knew I was dim-witted, compared to how I once was!

And yet, it wasn’t because of Kieran or any other reason. To put it bluntly I thought I was just being a miserable cow and needed a rocket up the proverbial to propel me into enthusiasm for things again, to speed my dulling mind up, to get me out of the house exercising again. Surely I was just being lazy! However in the back of my mind I was aware that I am “that age”. Peri-menopausal! (oh joy!!). Last year I’d had blood tests and certain hormone levels were dropping off and I was told to go back to the GP 3 months later.

Okay- so 18 months later, fed up with being dull and listless and feeling a bit “thick” I pulled off an NHS depression and anxiety tool that we use and thought I’d just exclude myself from having anything wrong with me other than being a cloth-headed misery! I did it tentatively and scored myself. It came out as mild- moderate depression! Sigh! I am not depressed, I do not want to be depressed but took myself to my GP and gave him the questionnaire whilst telling him I didn’t know why I was there because I didn’t consider myself depressed- just a misery, didn’t want any medication or anything but just wondered if it was my hormones!

I came away with Fluoxetine! He had to persuade me but thought it likely to be to do with my serotonin levels having dropped as part of this peri-menopause malarkey! Oestrogen stimulates serotonin: the mood-boosting neurotransmitter in your brain that’s responsible for making you feel good. Declining oestrogen levels are therefore directly linked to declining levels of serotonin, and this lack of serotonin can lead to low mood, and trigger symptoms of depression.

He said that most people that went to him wanting medication didn’t need it as there had been some trigger- like a life event… but he had the opposite with me where there was no trigger and I didn’t want medication.

I was happy to accept it being my hormones, but nothing else and reluctantly took his advice on the medication. He was really nice – he knew I was training to be a priest and said this would put me in good stead as a parish priest to understand the many that suffer from mental health problems at some time.

The problem is, as a registered nurse and Occupational Health Advisor of many years, I deal with mental health problems all the time- it’s the leading cause of sickness absence now- and I am only too aware of mental health issues and treatment, but, like many nurses, somehow I feel I should be invincible! And yet I should know by now- that I’m not! The loss of control I had and have had with Kieran’s death and now seeing I’m not immune after all to being a middle aged woman (horror of horror- I am not sure I’ll ever be embracing that!) means that I lean on God even more- unchanging, ever loving, ever present triune God.

Anyway medication wise- I felt a bit queasy a few days into taking it but then after about 3 weeks I realised that I didn’t feel so sad. I went back to my GP for check-up and found myself saying I was beginning to feel better- my concentration wasn’t as bad. So now I’m 3 months into taking it and whilst I still have up and down days- these are normal grumpy days that anyone has. My sleep is still hit and miss and I do get rather hot in the middle of the night and need a wee! If I potter to the bathroom keeping the lights off and one eye still closed then I may manage to go back to sleep- but often the brain goes into overdrive about absolutely nothing. I keep a cross and an Anglican rosary by my bed  and try to get back to sleep by holding one of them and saying the Jesus prayer repetitively or the Lord’s Prayer- although in my strange state of mind I end up thinking about which version I’m going to say!! In theory it’s “holier” (haha) than counting sheep but as I fall asleep the words become jumbled and my halo slips!! But I can cope with that because I am no longer a miserable cow!

All is not perfect- swimming holds no appeal at the moment and I haven’t got back into that- but I have signed up for Salsa lessons with my friend starting in the New Year (on the back of a priest at college giving us all a salsa lesson at our first residential of the year and earning the nickname Debbie Magee by a couple of people). Salsa was taught to us in a theological context- dance of freedom and expression out of black slavery.

I think this year, this 5th Advent without Kieran, has not felt so emotional so far. Whilst I still see things that Kieran would have liked, it has become more a passing thought than an all-encompassing one. To be honest church hasn’t felt quite like church this Advent- and perhaps that has helped being away from the church in which Kieran was born into, baptised and in which his ashes are interred. Circumstances have meant that on the first Sunday in Advent, Kevin and I were in Berlin for our 28^th wedding anniversary. Last week church was cancelled due to snow, and yesterday it was Messy Church in the morning and carols in the evening and I’d decided to go to Lichfield Cathedral instead for the service of nine lessons and carols- I fancied being immersed in the sound of choristers, a bit of processing ceremony and the splendour that is Lichfield Cathedral. (Despite being an evangelical, I sometimes think there is a little bit of Anglo Catholicism wanting to be let loose in me at times! ) No doubt on Christmas Eve after Christingle when we place our candles afterwards in the garden of remembrance for Kieran, emotions will catch up with me once more. I’m also leading the service for Midnight Holy Communion which is always rather special and then playing my flute Christmas morning. It will be rather lovely as Tara, my beautiful daughter, will be playing alongside me on Christmas Eve again and my rather splendid son-in-law Alex will be playing the organ on Christmas morning, before my wonderful son Aidan and bright and bubbly daughter-in-law, Beth, join us for dinner, travelling up on Christmas Day (after Aidan has managed Central Line tube drivers on Christmas Eve).

We are all going to the pub for Christmas dinner this year. It is at family occasions where you notice the loved ones missing and yet they are the perfect opportunity to laugh and remember and keep the memories alive. I have learnt though, that just when I think I have gone through an event unscathed, later, at some point, it hits me again. But I have now learnt that this is just how it is, I can’t control it, it’s normal and it shows how much I have loved and continue to love my son.

 

 

 

For those of us that grieve;

Father God,

Open our hearts and minds
to the healing, the warmth,
the light of your presence.

We pray, Lord, and we trust
that those we miss have found the place you prepared for them,
their home within your heart.

Open our hearts, Lord,
to joyful memories of love shared
with those who have gone before us.

Help us tell the stories
that make the past present
and bring us close again
to those we miss.

Teach us to lean on you, Lord,
and on each other,
for the strength we need
to walk through these difficult days.

Be with us as we cry and sing our way
through Christmas cards and carols;
help us find and open the present you bring: the gift of your peace
in the birth of the child we call Christ.

And give us quiet moments
with you, with our thoughts,
with our memories and prayers.

Be with us, Lord,
and hold us in your arms
even as you hold those
who have gone before us.

Help us to trust that one day
we shall be with those we love
when your mercy gathers us together
in the joy of the life you promise us.

Through Jesus Christ our Lord and Saviour,

Amen

 

 

And I pray for us all that

the joy of the angels,

the eagerness of the shepherds,

the perseverance of the wise men,

the obedience of Joseph and Mary,

and the peace of the Christ-child

be all of ours this Christmas;

 

 

 

 

A Celtic blessing

Deep peace of the running wave to you,
Deep peace of the flowing air to you,
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you,
Deep peace of the shining stars to you,
Deep peace of the Son of Peace to you.
May the road rise to meet you;
May the wind be always at your back;
May the sun shine warm upon your face;
May the rains fall softly upon your fields.
Until we meet again,
May God hold you in the hollow of His hand.

 

 

Have a peace filled Christmas everyone xxx

So here I am

There have been times over the last few months when I have desperately wanted to write about my journey, about Kieran; but many times I have been just too busy- trying to get assignments done, go to work, balance family and friends, do the usual jobs around the house as well as church and spending time with Kevin.  It takes me ages to process, think and reflect- I don’t know whether it’s my age but I’m not as sharp as I once was! My focus and concentration died along with Kieran and now I think it must be age rather than grief that just means I’m a bit slow!

But here I am, just over a year since my Bishop’s Advisory Panel, just under a year since I embarked on the 3 year journey towards ordination as a priest in the Church of England. The path is much more than academic, it’s called formation, and for me this year has once again changed me.

I have actually found Kieran’s death has affected me more again this year than the last. You see he was the catalyst for this journey and so what happened to Kieran and then God’s presence and blessings that followed despite this, are so much a part of this story that I have to work out how to tell people when asked without traumatising them! And it has taken a greater emotional toll on me than I ever could have imagined. On the outside I get on with things and weep on my own at “convenient” times; but actually I have to recognise my own vulnerability.

I had a bit of a “to do” with God a couple of weeks ago when I moaned at him that I hadn’t asked to be changed…. And then I realised even as I moaned at him, that actually, yes I had- well I had completely submitted to him. When I gave myself to him after Kieran died and said I didn’t care what he did with me, whether I lived or died, or whatever he had in store for me -he could have me completely- as long as he protected Kevin, Aidan and Tara and our family, and helped us all get through this together. Bargaining with God indeed!

So it’s four years on from Kieran’s death, and yet I find myself now so often teary and missing him so much. I still cannot watch anything that involves struggle in the water. I tried to watch an episode of the RNLI series on BBC2 at the moment, but it seems as soon as there are descriptions of, or seeing someone struggling in the water at risk of drowning, it is an emotional place I dare not visit for I do not want to imagine what my boy went through, and is something I have chosen to ignore. I think perhaps, as I write this, that I need to engage again with counselling, because sooner or later I’m going to have to face that aspect, that actual picture of someone drowning which I desperately want to hide from, turn my back on, not think about. I’m not sure if it’s healthier to bring it to the fore and have help to address it, or actually do what I do so well, in leaving the room and avoiding any hint of seeing what he might have gone through and blocking it out.

Anyway- let’s not dwell on that particular aspect- it’s not helpful! The main themes that have emerged over the last year then concern relationships, grieving and suffering. Telling people is always difficult to do; not because I find it hard to talk about, but because it changes how people respond to you.  Sometimes you just have to get it out there- other times it is not appropriate to do so- and meeting people with whom you will form relationships with is the most difficult. I am always on my guard as to the appropriateness of sharing the traumatic circumstances of Kieran’s death and what to say, because I can end up consoling them. I may then be avoided because others do not know how to confront my loss.

 The mess that is left with grief has felt to me like a beloved jumper being pulled apart, the wool tangled and knotted. It takes time to unravel it and begin to knit a new jumper, however during this process God has provided enough emotional and spiritual nourishment, to do this.  Whilst a new and different story is emerging, my previous story is still valid and part of me.

When we look at Mary and Martha in the Bible and the death of their brother Lazarus, they had very different reactions when Jesus turned up too late to save him. Martha is moved to action and goes out to Jesus; Mary, whom I identify with here, is grieving at home and waits to be called.  As a reflector I like to observe, listen, weigh up and internally process a situation. I get anxious if rushed.

It is known that there is a close relationship between grief and faith and on Good Friday, I was overwhelmed with sorrow in the evening service. The enormity of Christ’s sacrifice hit me afresh. I was Jesus’ mother, Mary, living through the events and culmination in her son’s death; and yet I was also my own son’s mother, living through the events of his death. I was thankful that because Christ died, (and rose) my son was with God, and God was with me in the Holy Spirit and therefore I was with both God and my own son, bound by eternally inter-twined cords. I realised that although parted in death, we remain bound in the fellowship of the Spirit. As an “Evangelical Anglican”, the Virgin Mary has been treated with no greater, or lesser respect by me than any of the saints, and yet the medieval spirituality that embraced Christ’s suffering through his mother’s eyes has resonated deeply with me in my grief journey.

Now when I consider the cross I experience the trauma and suffering of Jesus through a mother’s eyes. When I consider Mary, she was deeply troubled, extremely anxious, utterly confused and stricken with grief.  She both suffered and rejoiced at being Christ’s mother and Mary’s commitment to her son took her to the cross where everything is risked for the gospel. These reflections fed back into my call, having rejoiced in my own son and then experienced his unthinkable loss being the catalyst to stand with Christ in the suffering of the world.  This has led me into considering how life begins in the chaos of darkness, and in Genesis we see God bringing control and order and light; when I have been in darkness he has brought me into a new chapter of light and growth.

As someone who gets along with most people I still perceive myself to be “on the edge”. This has made me question my personality and the self-control I may portray as a barrier in order to hide my own vulnerability. Is my protective shield a help or a hindrance when establishing and building trustful relationships and sharing in the suffering of others? How do I bear others suffering with an open heart? My calling is to try to live as Psalm 68 and take up my cross; to walk with those who have suffered trauma, those on the fringes of society, the displaced and unloved. I realise that exploring my emotions and reactions to others in the midst of my own trauma has to be recognised as this may differ to others.

However,  perhaps being on the edge, being alert to my own and others feelings stands me in good stead to help others on the outside. Not quite “fitting” perhaps makes me more empathetic to others and understand that what is portrayed on the outside can hide great turmoil within. Jesus did not do as was expected of him, did not fit the mould and served the outsider. Yet there will be times when it is appropriate to let my guard down, to be seen to be moved; after all “Jesus wept”, was moved to compassion and in these two words I see the love, mercy, passion and grief revealed in the humanness of Christ.

I have discovered the importance of acknowledging my own emotions in suffering in relation to others and considered how these can be a help or hindrance to me in walking with others in the future.

I now feel drawn to understand different atonement views and liberation theology to understand different experiences of the Suffering and Risen Christ. I do not believe that my own suffering allows for the glorification for all suffering and I find the fact that Jesus died on the cross to save my son (and me) incredibly helpful. However I have realised that it can be argued that the theology of a suffering God who suffers in and with his people can encourage the acceptance of suffering for those who suffer unjustly.

And now to my darling boy,

My darling Kieran, my beautiful boy, you have already made it to Heaven, promoted to glory and in God’s eternal presence. Your mum here is following God’s call, of which you are so much a part. I love you, I miss you, the scar in my heart still opens up and bleeds for you. I wish I could hear you again, feel you give me a hug, see the expressions on your face. You were so funny and so loving. You wouldn’t hurt a fly and so many spoke about your kindness to others darling. So now, when I give out the Kieran Knight Award for Kindness and Compassion at your old school in a few weeks, I will do my best to honour your name and the attributes you, and Jesus showed and  follow God’s call in the world to be kind and compassionate to those who have no-one to love them.

Until we meet again, my youngest son,

Love you lots and lots

Your mum

xxx

Thy Kingdom Come

So I preached at my placement church on Sunday. Preaching can be anything from 20-30 minutes and this made me happy as I have no problem with having a (hopefully) focused ramble! I was quite nervous; even though I’ve preached many times before, it’s hard to know what another congregation will make of me and my style! The sermon lasted about 25 minutes and then I cut bits out for the second service at 11 as that is very different. In the second one  you talk for about 10 minutes and then break into groups with questions to get you thinking about the talk. Anyway, it seemed to go down well, I got very positive feedback and all that, and I even got asked for a copy of my sermon ( better than a sleeping tablet me thinks!) Anyway- good old God managed to steer me in the right direction!

Kieran featured briefly in the illustration in my sermon. It’s quite odd being in a church where no-one knows your story and I keep it to myself as it isn’t appropriate or relevant to share. But, as always, I am constantly on the alert in order to  deal with any questions that might come up so as to not cause distress in others- ironic that- but I’m a bit of a pro at that these days! Anyway- here’s the sermon- with pretty pictures to liven it up a bit!

Readings- Matthew 6:5-13   1 Samuel 2:1-10

Almighty God, your ascended Son has sent us into the world to preach the good news of your kingdom: Inspire us with your spirit and fill our hearts with the fire of your love, that all who hear your word may be drawn to you, through Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.

 

Last year the Archbishops of Canterbury and York started “Thy kingdom come” initiative; a period between Ascension Day and Pentecost of praying for others to know Jesus.  This year it has grown into an ecumenical and global invitation and the hope is that all who participate will deepen in their faith, bring others to either know Jesus or know him better and know that every part of our lives is prayer.

It seems appropriate this morning therefore to look at what we commonly know as “The Lord’s Prayer” in Matthew 6 to see where “thy kingdom come” fits in. But first I want to briefly mention Hannah. Hannah’s prayer that we heard in 1 Samuel 2 this morning is known as Hannah’s song. Previous to this Hannah had been very unhappy. Although she had a loving husband she had been unable to have children and this was compounded by the fact that her husband had another wife who was able to have children.  She was scorned by his other wife and other women. Although she was diligent with prayer, it was a very long time before her prayer was answered and she gave birth to Samuel.

Now in Hannah’s song we see her rejoicing, strong and confident in God. We see the depth of her faith conveyed in every line. She praised God for his marvelous use of power​—his unmatched ability to humble the haughty, to bless the oppressed, and to end life or even to save it from death. She praised God for his unique holiness, his justice, and his faithfulness. It’s a wonderful model for a prayer; but of course there are many more models of prayer all over the Bible, with the psalms being an obvious place to look.

But let’s turn our minds now to the familiar words in Matthew 6:5-13, the ultimate model for prayer given by Jesus himself to his disciples. We also see a shorter version in Luke 11:1-4.  It’s important to understand the context so for example in verse 5 when Jesus tells his disciples not to stand and pray like the hypocrites, he is not talking about the posture we should adopt. In fact we see many positions for prayer in the Bible, from standing in Luke 18 (11-13), sitting in 2 Samuel 7 (18) kneeling in Luke 22 (41) and lying prostrate on the ground in Matthew 26 (39) to name but a few. In this verse 5, Jesus is referring to the hypocrites who stood praying aloud on street corners on public display several times a day so that everyone could observe their incredible piety! He tells the disciples in verse 6 to go and pray in

privacy, away from distractions. This isn’t discouraging corporate prayer, but emphasising that this should be a private time between God and his community.The main point is the complete absence of desire to impress others.

Verse 7 tells us not to keep on babbling like pagans! When I first became a Christian, I remember picking out this verse and thinking that I, a great waffler, was guilty of babbling  on and on when I spoke to God, but this verse does not in fact mean waffling on in that sense!

Jesus is not against long prayers- after all he prayed all night in Luke 6:12, and at length at various other times. But he is telling his disciples to avoid endless repetition and meaningless gibberish. To put this again into context, the pagan practice at the time involved repeating an endless list of names and magic incantations to one of their gods, thinking that if they could get the right name and pronounce it correctly they could control that god. Prayer for them was completely self-centred. So we are told not to be like them, babbling as the pagans do.

It can be a bit puzzling when in verse 8 Jesus says that our Father knows what we need before we ask him. Surely then praying is a bit pointless? Well -no it isn’t. We may not tell or ask God for something he doesn’t already know. But it is a way of entering into relationship with Our Father, a means by which we express our dependence upon God who knows all things.

For those that have children, nieces or nephews or grandchildren, we usually know what they want before they ask. For years where I live, we have had the same ice cream van come round playing its same tune. When my son was small, he would magically appear at the sound of that van. However it would take him quite some time to ask me what I knew he wanted. To start with he’d just start by grinning at me, then, if I didn’t respond, he’d inform me what I already knew, “Mum- the ice cream van is outside”. Then he’d try by saying to me “mum, would you like an ice cream?”, before finally giving up when all else failed and just coming out and asking me “mum, may I have an ice cream please?”, which of course, was just what I was waiting for! I knew he wanted one, I knew my son very well, but I just wanted to be asked. Likewise God knows us intimately- our every need and desire- but he still wants us to ask him. Sometimes the answer to my son would be yes- he could have an ice cream- but sometimes it was no, not at the moment, if he was about to have his tea for example. God’s answers are not always what we were hoping for, but end up working out for the good because he knows what is best for us.

So in verse 9 Jesus tells his disciples how to pray, and because of this it is seen as a model for prayer as well as a statement of our Christian priorities and a guide to living the Christian life. In the first three verses, this prayer centres on the coming of God’s Kingdom whilst the next three are more about the present and focusing on the spiritual and physical needs of God’s people. Therefore it is both God oriented but also focuses on personal needs.

So we pray to Our Father in Heaven which shows that it is a community prayer and brings intimacy between Father God and His children. We pray with the certainty that our father is hearing us, the one who loves us so deeply and watches over us but it also tells of Gods sovereign power who dwells in heavenly splendour- yet still he cares deeply for our needs. Then we hallow, or honour, God’s name in everything we do.

“Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven”. Here we are asking God that his good, pleasing and perfect will be done here in his kingdom on earth at present. But we are also looking forward to the time when there is a new heaven and a new earth and God’s kingdom will truly be brought into fullness, which won’t fully happen until Christ’s return.

By asking God to give us this day our daily bread- we are asking that our food and both physical and spiritual needs are met for today, relying and trusting in God to provide and taking each day as it comes. But if we are truly praying this prayer in Gods honour, we can’t just ask for our own needs. We must pray for the needs of the whole world.

And forgive us our debts as we have forgiven our debtors- we are more used to saying forgive us our sins or trespasses and we forgive those who sin or trespass against us. Our experience of forgiveness must result in a change of heart on our part and a willingness to forgive those who have hurt us in a far less way than we have hurt God. A renewed fellowship with God means a renewed fellowship with others in our community. It is not that our forgiveness is the basis of God’s forgiveness but rather as we experience being pardoned by God we must exercise a greater willingness to pardon others. We are changed and strengthened by God’s love to enable us to do this.

We continue, “And do not bring us to the time of trial or temptation but rescue us from the evil one”, or deliver us from evil- give us strength and deliverance from temptations wrongly wrought by satan.

So Jesus reminds us that prayer is a private communion with God, not a public manifestation of piety, the power of prayer is based on quality and not quantity, the heart of prayer is worship- when we say “our Father in Heaven” we are not uttering a formal address but celebrating a personal relationship and that we share Christ’s relationship with the Father- sharing this intimacy with Christ and then with each other- brothers and sisters in Christ.

So that’s a bit of a whistle stop guide to how Jesus teaches us to pray but let’s home in a bit on “thy kingdom come”. God’s kingdom is the place that perfectly reflects his character and values. It is a place of joy, truth, grace, health, light, and peace.

“Thy Kingdom come” is evangelistic.

We have a role in bringing God’s Kingdom to completeness. “Thy Kingdom come” is a call for God to increase His Kingdom, to convert the hearts of unbelievers, to draw people to a saving knowledge of Christ. God can answer this prayer through us-we can be the means for bringing people into His Kingdom as we share the Good News that Jesus saves.

“Thy Kingdom come” is ethical. When John the Baptist announced that “the Kingdom of God was at hand” he called people to repent. If we want to see God’s Kingdom evident in our lives, then we will want to live accordingly. We are confronted with a choice; -to live according to Christian virtue or to follow the values of our culture. Paul describes “the Kingdom of God…as righteousness and peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit.” By asking for the Kingdom, we’re asking God to make us holy, set apart.

Thy Kingdom come” is prophetic. One day Jesus will return. No one knows exactly how or when but in the meantime, we’re to be watchful and spiritually prepared, and occupied with fulfilling the Great Commission to disciple all nations. This petition is much like the final, concluding words of the Bible: “Come, Lord Jesus” (Revelation 22:20

“Thy Kingdom come” is a protest. We are opposing every worldview that is contrary to God. Prayer is political action and social energy. God welcomes our complaints. God wants us to process our strong feelings about life through prayer.

“Thy Kingdom come” is submissive. The function of prayer is not to inform God of our plans but to call on Him to fulfill His plans-it’s not “my kingdom come.”

“Thy Kingdom come” is comforting. Anxiety should be a reminder for us to pray, to “cast our cares” on God. When we realize that our sovereign King has things in control, that life has a purpose, that there is a Kingdom apart from our secular culture, we breathe a sigh of relief. Life may seem chaotic, unpredictable, and harsh, but we belong to a Kingdom that will overcome the world. When this Kingdom comes in its fullness we will be freed from all suffering and sorrow.

Thy Kingdom come” is unifying. There are not many Kingdoms of God, only one.

There is one Lord, one faith, one baptism. In this prayer we hope for the day when all divisions will be done away with, and we will all be members of this one Kingdom, praising God together.

“Thy Kingdom come” identifies us. As Christians, we hold dual citizenship. Paul states, “our citizenship is in heaven” (Phil 3:20). We are governed by human law, but also by Biblical truth. We are loyal to our nation, but we recognize that we belong to God’s Kingdom. When we pray “Thy Kingdom come” we identify ourselves as subjects of the King of kings.

And “Thy Kingdom come” is realistic. Faith is not a leap into the dark, but a leap into the light.

This last week gives us reasons more than ever to pray “thy kingdom come”, when God’s kingdom on earth seems so remote and the prince of darkness seems to have the upper hand. Indeed I cannot speak today without mentioning what happened in the traumatic taking of innocent lives in Manchester and in Egypt this week.

There are no easy answers, no easy words to explain our divided world but what we have seen is God in the midst of the suffering, love being shown in the people who helped and continue to help in any way- supporting practically and emotionally. Love being shown by all cultures and faiths who want to live in peace in a free and democratic country – all that we stand for and that the terrorists hate.

We have seen great evil occur, but an even greater love of fellow human beings emerge. God’s kingdom has been evident in the togetherness in suffering. Many of us will remember times in our lives of great trauma or suffering when Jesus has carried us, and can look back and see his love at work in kind words and actions of others, his closeness and guidance in prayer and enabling us to carry on in his strength.

Our own testimonies are powerful and as Jesus has loved and rescued us, how can we not reach out to a world that does not know him, how can we not pray that others will know his amazing grace and the freedom we have in Christ? We should pray and pray and pray again for our dark world and that others may know the peace and light of Christ. Even when we find it difficult to see, God is doing amazing work to bring his kingdom here.

So in conclusion, we obtain this Kingdom by trusting Christ as our King, by receiving Him as our Lord. Then whenever we pray the Lord’s Prayer we indicate our desire for the dominion of God and the success of the Gospel. We have a Kingdom worth praying for! One day, yet future, the forces of evil will be finally routed by the host of heaven. In the meantime, we pray, “Thy Kingdom come.”

 

How did I end up an Ordinand?

Preached on Palm Sunday this year; the last Sunday I was at Emmanuel prior to being in a placement church for 3 months.

I was not brought up as a church going Christian- we used to go once a year at Christmas. I had exposure to church once a month at church parade as a brownie and guide, and loved the Bible stories told to us by our primary school headmaster. And in primary school I also learnt to sing the Lord’s Prayer. At the age of 11 I was given a New Testament by the Gideon’s at school and vowed to read a bit every day, and I started to say a little prayer asking God to look after my family every night.

At 15, I attempted to go to the school Christian union twice but there were only 6 of us and 2 of those were teachers and I found it rather intense. I married in church- it was what you did… but there was something more than that there- I had a sense that saying my vows in front of God was very important, although I didn’t really know why.

Finally at the age of 24 I had my eldest son, Aidan and we felt it was important to get him Christened- again it was something you did and it never crossed our minds not too. Our own parish church at that time had a very bad name and so we decided to travel 30 minutes down the A38 to a small rural church that my husband had gone to as a child.

We also made a decision that we’d quite like our children to go to Sunday school as they wouldn’t learn about Jesus in the natural way we did at school. 22 months later, when I was 8 months pregnant with my daughter Tara, we got confirmed- we had been approached by the Vicar and were conscious that we were that the only ones who did not take communion- so it seemed reasonable that we took the next step.

During the confirmation service, the Bishop placed his hand on my head as we knelt in prayer I remember feeling a great warmth spread over me, unlike anything I had ever felt before and so I experienced the Holy Spirit within me for the first time. We carried on going to the church for another year but left in the end because the organist complained about Aidan toddling around and putting him off; there was no Sunday school and no other families. We were spending the whole service trying to keep our children quiet and no longer taking anything in.

But I actually missed going to church- something had changed within me and I still felt drawn to go but didn’t know which church to go to.

I didn’t go to church for 2 years, by which time I was pregnant again and I met a mum whose children went to Emmanuel Sunday School. So 21 years ago we started to come to here.

I remember the first time I asked to be prayed for, there were difficulties with my 3rd pregnancy and it wasn’t clear if all was well with my youngest, Kieran, and so I asked to be put on the prayer list. With Kieran’s birth, all was well and I believed God answered my prayer. We gave him an extra name of Sean, Irish for John, and meaning precious gift of God.

Over time I became more involved, the children loved coming and playing with their friends and learning about Jesus. We went to Spring Harvest a couple of times and I took up playing my flute again in the music group, doing readings and then finally intercessions- that was a big step for me because I’d often worried that I didn’t know how to pray. I learnt so much in those times of fellowship.

There came a point 13 years ago that I was feeling increasingly restless and felt that I should be doing more, perhaps some Christian study, so I tentatively approached David, our vicar at the time. To my surprise, he thought I should consider applying for 3 year reader training. I laughed as that wasn’t at all what I had in mind. I am an introvert; I couldn’t see me standing up and preaching, wearing robes and all that malarkey. My word, I wasn’t holy enough, I had the wrong accent, I didn’t know much! But eventually I said I’d speak to my husband and see what he thought about me being a Reader and if okay with it well then I’d just apply and see what happened. If it was meant to be, then it was meant to be.

Anyway he thought it was a good idea and so I applied, expecting to get rejected out of hand- but in fact, of course, I got accepted.

Throughout my 3 years of training, I still wondered if I had been called or if I was a fraud. On our final session, when we were being prepared for licensing at the cathedral, I was having doubts about my abilities, feeling completely unworthy; but there came a point towards the end of the day when I began to shake whilst singing a hymn – my whole body was warm from within and I found I had tears rolling down my face, even though I wasn’t aware I was crying. The warmth came in waves- and – it wasn’t just my age back then! One of the vicar’s leading us came up to me, put their hand on my shoulders and said they had a message they felt compelled to tell me- that they had seen I was to be a preacher and I felt this huge peace descend on me. It was only at that final session that I finally realised God had called me to be a Reader after all!

So I became a licensed reader 10 years ago, and I have loved it. I am passionate about Reader ministry- a foot in both camps so to speak- still within the laity- and never had any thoughts or feelings about anything else. This was where God wanted me to be. Well – it was…. But God is God- and if there’s one thing I’ve learnt, it’s that what I think about how things ought to be and what God thinks things for Dawn ought to be are usually completely different!

After about 3 years as a Reader, I was feeling restless again, I felt I was meant to be doing something else for God within my Reader ministry. Yet I had 3 children, a husband, worked full time, held a prayer group, led and preached but couldn’t do anymore because of these reasons.

I thought about Christian counselling, it seemed an obvious link to my nursing background, so I took myself off to St John’s College in Nottingham to find out about it. However it just wasn’t possible for me to do this because of time and money needed. That door was closed. A couple of years went on; I was still feeling restless so went to explore volunteering for the Samaritans. But the time commitment and requirement to work a lot of these hours as a night shift, again meant I just couldn’t do that with family, work and church. So I threw myself into work, which I have always been fortunate enough to enjoy. I was doing well and was put on the global talent programme where they were developing my leadership skills further.

Half way through this work programme, we went on holiday to France and on my daughter’s 19th birthday, my youngest son, Kieran, my precious gift from God, at the age of 16.5 drowned in the sea on our first day in the resort. It is thought he was caught in a rip current, he was found 3 days later when we identified him and a week later we returned home with his body.

I don’t want to dwell on this, many of you here knew and loved Kieran, who helped with Sunday school and rang the bell every week, which now stays silent most of the time.

But you see through suffering, I have understood that there have been many blessings. Not because of Kieran’s death but in spite of it. From the moment Kieran disappeared God was working through so many people to help us bear our pain. The texts, the prayers, the practical help- Graham, our priest in charge for instance, dealt with the press for us, arranged a memorial book here and somewhere for people to lay flowers, picking us up from Manchester airport, doing home communion with us, supporting our distressed family and church family at home; my sister and brother-in-law flew out to us in France and helped us deal with the legalities of repatriating Kieran home.

The Anglican Church across France had us in their prayers Bishop Alistair and Bishop Humphrey wrote to us, and of course everyone back here was praying and supporting us in so many ways. God working through so many people to carry us when we didn’t know how we would ever bear what had happened.

I have been there metaphorically on Good Friday hanging on the cross with Jesus crying out my God, my God, why have you forsaken me? And I’ve been at the foot of the cross with Mary gazing at her dead son. And after a period of time; after the horror, in the numbness and waiting on my low Saturday; I have experienced resurrection, the hope and the joy and the peace and the assurance of God healing and blessing my family and me.

As you will have gathered- my calling this time has not occurred because of Kieran, but Kieran’s unexpected death and the days, weeks, months that followed were undoubtedly the catalyst that enabled spiritual growth, new insights, questions, feelings about God and my faith; and a desire; a burning desire to help be Christ’s light in the darkness for those experiencing horror and suffering, who are not loved as my son was loved.

18 months after Kieran’s death, my restlessness returned. But I had told God categorically, as you do!! That I was no longer seeking what he might want me to do. I didn’t have the strength, I needed to be still a while and if he needed me to do anything that it would have to be plain as day and just happen. I was done putting effort in trying to work out this restlessness.

I read a book on Ignatian spirituality and picked up my prayer life in more depth again. However, although restless, I had a new type of role and was studying again for work, my brain was fully occupied! But one morning I awoke from a dream. I don’t remember the content of the dream. I just remember feeling different. I walked my dogs, came back, read my bible passage and sat quietly as was normal for me before switching on my work computer. I don’t remember what I read; I just remember the feeling from the dream was still with me, something had changed I me but I didn’t know what.

In the quiet, as I was trying to read, the word ordination came into my mind from nowhere like a lightning bolt, such that it interrupted my reading. I didn’t know why it had come unbidden into my mind. I had always been anti- ordination before. I used to get quite cross in fact, at readers who seemed to use reader ministry, to my mind, as a stepping stone, which it isn’t. It’s a ministry in its own right. I love reader ministry and it always perfectly sat with me. I had never seen a reason to be ordained, never considered it, other than in a very dismissive way…..

And yet- here was the word ordination. I inwardly searched for my usual feelings of irritability and dismissal … but I couldn’t find them. The anti-ordination irritation wasn’t there. I searched for it, confused. I couldn’t make sense of this and put it down to the dream I must have had and how dreams sometimes leave a feeling behind that can last a few hours.

Over the next week, I’d go through my usual routine and prayer, expecting the familiar anti-ordination feelings to return. But they didn’t! The word ordination kept popping into my brain, planted there somehow, seemingly inescapable, getting more insistent. Eventually after about a month I realised that God had changed something within me that night of the dream. The penny was dropping that he was calling me for something that made no sense in my eyes, but for which I was no longer antagonistic. The more I turned it over and over in my head and the point at which I said “really God? I mean really?”, a peace descended on me so it felt right. It made absolutely no rationale sense in my mind. I liked the job I did, I enjoyed working, I earn a good salary and yet here I was now accepting what I felt God was revealing to me. A feeling of how I am meant to be, ordained, not something I wanted to do, but something I am meant to be.

I spoke to my husband- who didn’t dismiss it, I spoke to Graham. Neither thought I was foolish, neither thought I was mistaken and I realised I needed to explore further. I went through the diocesan process to find a spiritual director- a person to walk with you and guide you on your Christian journey- anyone can have one by the way and I thoroughly recommend it! I then met with the Diocesan Director of Ordinands and started the process of discernment.

About 14 months after my initial dream, I found myself at what I refer to as a practice Bap. Bap is the term used for Bishop’s Advisory Panel- and is basically the selection process. Derby diocese run a day where you have 3 interviews and do a presentation and then the Bishop decides whether to put you forward to a 3 day national panel. I found the diocesan day a scarier experience than the national one. I think it’s because I didn’t really know what to expect at the diocesan one, and I found one of the interviewers a very scary person who never cracked a smile once. Of course, as is always the case, that was the interview I knew least about and so in typical Dawn fashion, I waffled. Nothing from the interviewer, face stern and un-moving, prompting me, trying to get from me something I clearly wasn’t understanding what they were after. So I waffled on, skirting around trying to find the elusive nail to hit on the head, finally I think they gave up, having heard enough of me going on about nothing much. No doubt you’re all probably looking at your watches now and thinking- she’s going on again, we understand how that woman was feeling!

Well, I‘ll soon be finished! I thought I had done badly and wouldn’t get recommended, but they put me through. So then I thought if they pout me through they probably put everyone through, but I later found out that was not the case at all. Anyway I’ve written more about the national BAP in the annual church meeting booklet, so won’t repeat that now.

So I am at the Queen’s Foundation Ecumenical Theological college in Birmingham (rather a mouthful I know); and which I attend one evening a week and 6 residential weekends a year. Tomorrow I go away for a week to be immersed in Holy Week and come home next Sunday after lunch. There are lots of essays which cause me a degree of anxiety, to say the least as I don’t just wrestle with the text, but battle with whole concepts and I continue to work full time- so it has become quite common of late for me to have some emotional moments at home just with trying to keep everything in the balance. But I am managing to pass okay and it’s really about the whole process of formation, not just doing essays.

Having said all this and despite my emotional meltdowns, I am absolutely loving it and feel sure that this is where I’m meant to be. I still feel unworthy and think therefore that God has an amazing sense of humour in using me…. And then I look at the characters of the Bible- look at Peter, a simple fisherman, denying Jesus in today’s reading, but pivotal in the story of Christianity.

This is my last Sunday at Emmanuel until the summer. I start my placement in a couple of weeks and will be at St Augustine’s in Normanton, Derby. But I will be around for PCC and deanery synod and I’ll be back on a Sunday at the start of July so please keep me in your prayers.

So upon my own experiences, what does this say about calling?

Well God calls each of us for work in his kingdom. Sometimes we can be so busy looking and asking him what he wants us to do and we just need to be still and wait patiently and he will reveal it.

God keeps on calling us, just because we’ve said yes once, it doesn’t mean that’s it we can put our feet up! And just because he calls a particular way one time, it may be quite a different way the next.

We can do anything for God in his strength, but we have

to accept the call- God won’t force us.

No matter how unworthy you feel, God loves you and has a job for you and it’s often not what you thought it might have been.

That actually in our Christian journey, we can expect our faith to be tested; illness, grieving and suffering are unfortunately part of life in this fallen world and that is the time to turn to God, not away- but he is big enough to take anger, blame, mocking and tears.

There will be times when our circumstances are such that we are hanging on the cross with Jesus, suffering beyond all measure and feeling apart from God. We will experience and corporately remember this Jesus’ own suffering to take away our sins this Good Friday; but the cross of course is not the end, resurrection comes, death is conquered and the promise that whoever believes in Jesus will have eternal life- I find that so absolutely amazing!

How can we not have hope, how can we doubt God’s love and understanding? How can we not respond when he calls us? What is your call, listen, be open and respond for he will lift you up to soar on wings like eagles and give you all the strength you need.

Amen

How did I end up an Ordinand?

Preached on Palm Sunday this year; the last Sunday I was at Emmanuel prior to being in a placement church for 3 months.

I was not brought up as a church going Christian- we used to go once a year at Christmas. I had exposure to church once a month at church parade as a brownie and guide, and loved the Bible stories told to us by our primary school headmaster. And in primary school I also learnt to sing the Lord’s Prayer. At the age of 11 I was given a New Testament by the Gideon’s at school and vowed to read a bit every day, and I started to say a little prayer asking God to look after my family every night.

At 15, I attempted to go to the school Christian union twice but there were only 6 of us and 2 of those were teachers and I found it rather intense. I married in church- it was what you did… but there was something more than that there- I had a sense that saying my vows in front of God was very important, although I didn’t really know why.

Finally at the age of 24 I had my eldest son, Aidan and we felt it was important to get him Christened- again it was something you did and it never crossed our minds not too. Our own parish church at that time had a very bad name and so we decided to travel 30 minutes down the A38 to a small rural church that my husband had gone to as a child.

We also made a decision that we’d quite like our children to go to Sunday school as they wouldn’t learn about Jesus in the natural way we did at school. 22 months later, when I was 8 months pregnant with my daughter Tara, we got confirmed- we had been approached by the Vicar and were conscious that we were that the only ones who did not take communion- so it seemed reasonable that we took the next step.

During the confirmation service, the Bishop placed his hand on my head as we knelt in prayer I remember feeling a great warmth spread over me, unlike anything I had ever felt before and so I experienced the Holy Spirit within me for the first time. We carried on going to the church for another year but left in the end because the organist complained about Aidan toddling around and putting him off; there was no Sunday school and no other families. We were spending the whole service trying to keep our children quiet and no longer taking anything in.

But I actually missed going to church- something had changed within me and I still felt drawn to go but didn’t know which church to go to.
I didn’t go to church for 2 years, by which time I was pregnant again and I met a mum whose children went to Emmanuel Sunday School. So 21 years ago we started to come to here.

I remember the first time I asked to be prayed for, there were difficulties with my 3rd pregnancy and it wasn’t clear if all was well with my youngest, Kieran, and so I asked to be put on the prayer list. With Kieran’s birth, all was well and I believed God answered my prayer. We gave him an extra name of Sean, Irish for John, and meaning precious gift of God.

Over time I became more involved, the children loved coming and playing with their friends and learning about Jesus. We went to Spring Harvest a couple of times and I took up playing my flute again in the music group, doing readings and then finally intercessions- that was a big step for me because I’d often worried that I didn’t know how to pray. I learnt so much in those times of fellowship.

There came a point 13 years ago that I was feeling increasingly restless and felt that I should be doing more, perhaps some Christian study, so I tentatively approached David, our vicar at the time. To my surprise, he thought I should consider applying for 3 year reader training. I laughed as that wasn’t at all what I had in mind. I am an introvert; I couldn’t see me standing up and preaching, wearing robes and all that malarkey. My word, I wasn’t holy enough, I had the wrong accent, I didn’t know much! But eventually I said I’d speak to my husband and see what he thought about me being a Reader and if okay with it well then I’d just apply and see what happened. If it was meant to be, then it was meant to be.

Anyway he thought it was a good idea and so I applied, expecting to get rejected out of hand- but in fact, of course, I got accepted.
Throughout my 3 years of training, I still wondered if I had been called or if I was a fraud. On our final session, when we were being prepared for licensing at the cathedral, I was having doubts about my abilities, feeling completely unworthy; but there came a point towards the end of the day when I began to shake whilst singing a hymn – my whole body was warm from within and I found I had tears rolling down my face, even though I wasn’t aware I was crying. The warmth came in waves- and – it wasn’t just my age back then! One of the vicar’s leading us came up to me, put their hand on my shoulders and said they had a message they felt compelled to tell me- that they had seen I was to be a preacher and I felt this huge peace descend on me. It was only at that final session that I finally realised God had called me to be a Reader after all!

So I became a licensed reader 10 years ago, and I have loved it. I am passionate about Reader ministry- a foot in both camps so to speak- still within the laity- and never had any thoughts or feelings about anything else. This was where God wanted me to be. Well – it was…. But God is God- and if there’s one thing I’ve learnt, it’s that what I think about how things ought to be and what God thinks things for Dawn ought to be are usually completely different!

After about 3 years as a Reader, I was feeling restless again, I felt I was meant to be doing something else for God within my Reader ministry. Yet I had 3 children, a husband, worked full time, held a prayer group, led and preached but couldn’t do anymore because of these reasons.

I thought about Christian counselling, it seemed an obvious link to my nursing background, so I took myself off to St John’s College in Nottingham to find out about it. However it just wasn’t possible for me to do this because of time and money needed. That door was closed. A couple of years went on; I was still feeling restless so went to explore volunteering for the Samaritans. But the time commitment and requirement to work a lot of these hours as a night shift, again meant I just couldn’t do that with family, work and church. So I threw myself into work, which I have always been fortunate enough to enjoy. I was doing well and was put on the global talent programme where they were developing my leadership skills further.

Half way through this work programme, we went on holiday to France and on my daughter’s 19th birthday, my youngest son, Kieran, my precious gift from God, at the age of 16.5 drowned in the sea on our first day in the resort. It is thought he was caught in a rip current, he was found 3 days later when we identified him and a week later we returned home with his body.

I don’t want to dwell on this, many of you here knew and loved Kieran, who helped with Sunday school and rang the bell every week, which now stays silent most of the time.
But you see through suffering, I have understood that there have been many blessings. Not because of Kieran’s death but in spite of it. From the moment Kieran disappeared God was working through so many people to help us bear our pain. The texts, the prayers, the practical help- Graham, our priest in charge for instance, dealt with the press for us, arranged a memorial book here and somewhere for people to lay flowers, picking us up from Manchester airport, doing home communion with us, supporting our distressed family and church family at home; my sister and brother-in-law flew out to us in France and helped us deal with the legalities of repatriating Kieran home.

The Anglican Church across France had us in their prayers Bishop Alistair and Bishop Humphrey wrote to us, and of course everyone back here was praying and supporting us in so many ways. God working through so many people to carry us when we didn’t know how we would ever bear what had happened.

I have been there metaphorically on Good Friday hanging on the cross with Jesus crying out my God, my God, why have you forsaken me? And I’ve been at the foot of the cross with Mary gazing at her dead son. And after a period of time; after the horror, in the numbness and waiting on my low Saturday; I have experienced resurrection, the hope and the joy and the peace and the assurance of God healing and blessing my family and me.

As you will have gathered- my calling this time has not occurred because of Kieran, but Kieran’s unexpected death and the days, weeks, months that followed were undoubtedly the catalyst that enabled spiritual growth, new insights, questions, feelings about God and my faith; and a desire; a burning desire to help be Christ’s light in the darkness for those experiencing horror and suffering, who are not loved as my son was loved.

18 months after Kieran’s death, my restlessness returned. But I had told God categorically, as you do!! That I was no longer seeking what he might want me to do. I didn’t have the strength, I needed to be still a while and if he needed me to do anything that it would have to be plain as day and just happen. I was done putting effort in trying to work out this restlessness.

I read a book on Ignatian spirituality and picked up my prayer life in more depth again. However, although restless, I had a new type of role and was studying again for work, my brain was fully occupied! But one morning I awoke from a dream. I don’t remember the content of the dream. I just remember feeling different. I walked my dogs, came back, read my bible passage and sat quietly as was normal for me before switching on my work computer. I don’t remember what I read; I just remember the feeling from the dream was still with me, something had changed I me but I didn’t know what.

In the quiet, as I was trying to read, the word ordination came into my mind from nowhere like a lightning bolt, such that it interrupted my reading. I didn’t know why it had come unbidden into my mind. I had always been anti- ordination before. I used to get quite cross in fact, at readers who seemed to use reader ministry, to my mind, as a stepping stone, which it isn’t. It’s a ministry in its own right. I love reader ministry and it always perfectly sat with me. I had never seen a reason to be ordained, never considered it, other than in a very dismissive way…..

And yet- here was the word ordination. I inwardly searched for my usual feelings of irritability and dismissal … but I couldn’t find them. The anti-ordination irritation wasn’t there. I searched for it, confused. I couldn’t make sense of this and put it down to the dream I must have had and how dreams sometimes leave a feeling behind that can last a few hours.

Over the next week, I’d go through my usual routine and prayer, expecting the familiar anti-ordination feelings to return. But they didn’t! The word ordination kept popping into my brain, planted there somehow, seemingly inescapable, getting more insistent. Eventually after about a month I realised that God had changed something within me that night of the dream. The penny was dropping that he was calling me for something that made no sense in my eyes, but for which I was no longer antagonistic. The more I turned it over and over in my head and the point at which I said “really God? I mean really?”, a peace descended on me so it felt right. It made absolutely no rationale sense in my mind. I liked the job I did, I enjoyed working, I earn a good salary and yet here I was now accepting what I felt God was revealing to me. A feeling of how I am meant to be, ordained, not something I wanted to do, but something I am meant to be.

I spoke to my husband- who didn’t dismiss it, I spoke to Graham. Neither thought I was foolish, neither thought I was mistaken and I realised I needed to explore further. I went through the diocesan process to find a spiritual director- a person to walk with you and guide you on your Christian journey- anyone can have one by the way and I thoroughly recommend it! I then met with the Diocesan Director of Ordinands and started the process of discernment.

About 14 months after my initial dream, I found myself at what I refer to as a practice Bap. Bap is the term used for Bishop’s Advisory Panel- and is basically the selection process. Derby diocese run a day where you have 3 interviews and do a presentation and then the Bishop decides whether to put you forward to a 3 day national panel. I found the diocesan day a scarier experience than the national one. I think it’s because I didn’t really know what to expect at the diocesan one, and I found one of the interviewers a very scary person who never cracked a smile once. Of course, as is always the case, that was the interview I knew least about and so in typical Dawn fashion, I waffled. Nothing from the interviewer, face stern and un-moving, prompting me, trying to get from me something I clearly wasn’t understanding what they were after. So I waffled on, skirting around trying to find the elusive nail to hit on the head, finally I think they gave up, having heard enough of me going on about nothing much. No doubt you’re all probably looking at your watches now and thinking- she’s going on again, we understand how that woman was feeling!

Well, I‘ll soon be finished! I thought I had done badly and wouldn’t get recommended, but they put me through. So then I thought if they pout me through they probably put everyone through, but I later found out that was not the case at all. Anyway I’ve written more about the national BAP in the annual church meeting booklet, so won’t repeat that now.

So I am at the Queen’s Foundation Ecumenical Theological college in Birmingham (rather a mouthful I know); and which I attend one evening a week and 6 residential weekends a year. Tomorrow I go away for a week to be immersed in Holy Week and come home next Sunday after lunch. There are lots of essays which cause me a degree of anxiety, to say the least as I don’t just wrestle with the text, but battle with whole concepts and I continue to work full time- so it has become quite common of late for me to have some emotional moments at home just with trying to keep everything in the balance. But I am managing to pass okay and it’s really about the whole process of formation, not just doing essays.

Having said all this and despite my emotional meltdowns, I am absolutely loving it and feel sure that this is where I’m meant to be. I still feel unworthy and think therefore that God has an amazing sense of humour in using me…. And then I look at the characters of the Bible- look at Peter, a simple fisherman, denying Jesus in today’s reading, but pivotal in the story of Christianity.
This is my last Sunday at Emmanuel until the summer. I start my placement in a couple of weeks and will be at St Augustine’s in Normanton, Derby. But I will be around for PCC and deanery synod and I’ll be back on a Sunday at the start of July so please keep me in your prayers.

So upon my own experiences, what does this say about calling?
Well God calls each of us for work in his kingdom. Sometimes we can be so busy looking and asking him what he wants us to do and we just need to be still and wait patiently and he will reveal it.
God keeps on calling us, just because we’ve said yes once, it doesn’t mean that’s it we can put our feet up! And just because he calls a particular way one time, it may be quite a different way the next.

We can do anything for God in his strength, but we have
to accept the call- God won’t force us.

No matter how unworthy you feel, God loves you and has a job for you and it’s often not what you thought it might have been.

That actually in our Christian journey, we can expect our faith to be tested; illness, grieving and suffering are unfortunately part of life in this fallen world and that is the time to turn to God, not away- but he is big enough to take anger, blame, mocking and tears.

There will be times when our circumstances are such that we are hanging on the cross with Jesus, suffering beyond all measure and feeling apart from God. We will experience and corporately remember this Jesus’ own suffering to take away our sins this Good Friday; but the cross of course is not the end, resurrection comes, death is conquered and the promise that whoever believes in Jesus will have eternal life- I find that so absolutely amazing!

How can we not have hope, how can we doubt God’s love and understanding? How can we not respond when he calls us? What is your call, listen, be open and respond for he will lift you up to soar on wings like eagles and give you all the strength you need.
Amen

Using music to praise and pray as personal devotion

As part of our focus on spirituality in Easter School, each member of the group was asked to give a 10 minute presentation to the rest of the class about an aspect of spirituality and prayer, or a form of spiritual discipline, which has been significant to us personally.
The 10 minute presentation included two aspects: 1. Basic information about the form of spirituality or particular discipline, so that others could understand it and have a rough idea how to use or take part in it; 2. A personal account of how it has been significant for me in my spiritual journey.

I decided to choose music as an aspect of Christian spirituality that I find helpful and aids me in praise and prayer. I hadn’t really thought of it as a particular spiritual practice before- my mind would normally turn to the discipline of Daily Prayer or Celtic or Ignatian spirituality as specific forms of expressing spirituality close to my heart. But when the penny dropped by looking at the possible topics to choose from I realised that this is the most natural, often, and heartfelt way in which I engage, praise and pray to God in my personal devotions. I have gained some useful insights by Rosalind Brown’s book, “How Hymns Shape our lives”.

Hymns teach us and remind us of what God has done and allow for devotion. They give us words to borrow and make our own and they paint word pictures which conjure up images and allow us to express our desire for a deeper relationship with God. They can lead us to various responses, for example, to be like Christ, to share in his suffering, to give ourselves to him, to thank him, and to change. Lines from hymns can also be really helpful when meditating on Biblical texts.

There is a danger in that they can focus too much on how we feel, and it’s important to ensure that God is central to our praise and prayer, much in the same way as the danger for said prayers can end up being a personal shopping list. But hymns can be significant markers of events or experiences; and in times of trouble, when words will not come spontaneously, hymns often give words and expression with which to pray.

We can, of course, be hindered by not being able to find a suitable hymn to pray at a particular time, and hymn books that only list alphabetically may not be particularly helpful. It is more useful to use a hymnbook listed additionally by theme, which allows us to tap in more easily to what we want to say.

The hymn, which is a particular form of poetry linked with music, is more than words or a tune; if the tune is memorable and complements the lyrics, then it has a multiplying effect to the emotion and engagement in our conversation with God. Words tend to engage the left side of the brain, whereas music engages the right, so a good hymn brings both together.

The positive thing about singing a hymn alone in personal devotion is that you do not need to have a musical ear, you do not need to be pitch-perfect, you do not have to go at a particular pace and you can set off in the key that best suits your voice. You can of course join in with a CD or download, and either sing along with the vocalist, band or choir; it may be helpful to just listen and contemplate by either following the words in a book or just allowing your heart and soul to join silently in prayer with the music. You can of course, combine such moments with other aspects of spirituality like drawing, colouring, painting or sewing if you wish.

I have found that using hymns for praise and prayer engages my heart, mind and body and keeps me focused. Unfortunately when reading prayers or Bible texts I can sometimes have the attention span of a gnat and have to go back and re read if my mind has wandered. I know many find praying the psalms a great help and my head understands why this is; but somehow, whilst my mind might engage, my soul rarely makes it! However, to sing a psalm set to a beautiful tune is another matter. Take Psalm 23, “The Lord is my shepherd”, which has been set to many different tunes – when sung, the words sink in for me, speak to my soul and allow me to fully pray it.

I use hymns in a variety of ways; I either know the hymn that I have in mind or I look for it in the thematic index. I love the fact that whereas I have issues hitting higher notes in corporate worship, having a low contralto voice; in personal praise and prayer I can pitch it exactly where I want it and am free of either trying to hit higher notes like a strangled cat or singing like a man!

Because I play the flute I will often play the hymns whilst silently singing the words, and this is an absolute joy because I can make my voice soar tunefully in my playing that I can’t do in my singing! It all comes together in perfect harmony in my head and soul.

Hymns have been significant in my Christian journey and perhaps some popular ones will resonate here with others. When I was confirmed at 25, not having been brought up a Christian, it was the first time I had heard the hymn, “Take my life and let it be”. The words I encountered and the tune touched the very heart of me, and I experienced the Holy Spirit within me for the first time; when my son died suddenly and I heard the hymn, “When peace like a river,” with the chorus, “It is well with my soul” I could not sing it for several months for all did not feel well with my soul at that time and I did not believe it ever would be again; now, however, I sing it with conviction, realising that my heart is full of peace, joy and hope again. What adds a further dimension to hymns such as these can be understanding who wrote them, when and why.

A man called Horatio Gates Spafford wrote, “When peace like a river”, and it is believed he wrote it whilst travelling to England from America on a ship after the one ahead with his wife and 4 daughters on capsized and his 4 daughters drowned.

So for me that particular hymn has so many dimensions to it that resonate with my personal circumstances and being able to praise God in the midst of tragedy; I find it inspirational and a way of praising God and being thankful for what he has done for me, whatever my lot.

The hymn, “Because he lives, I can face tomorrow,” has lifted me up in the lowest of moments- the tune is joyous and the words speak of what God has done and the promise of eternity; and of course, “I, the Lord of sea and sky” perhaps speaks to many here around the sense of being called and answering to God.

I am rather partial to traditional hymns with a modern twist and sing along to my spring Harvest hymns in the car in the mornings on my way to work. They allow me to pray aloud, in an upbeat way; prompting my internal prayers to God for the coming day;  and I arrive at work feeling that whatever it brings, God is with me in all that I do that day and all that I do I offer back to God in order to glorify Him.

A couple of days a week I work from home and I very quietly listen to Taize or Gregorian chants in the background; if they are too loud I can’t concentrate, but very softly playing allows me to focus on my work and the people I will interact with during the day, which I offer throughout continuously to God.

So music, and specifically hymns, play a big part in my day to day praise and prayer life; and, next to the Bible, are the spiritual tool that I turn to when in need of guidance, when sad, when hopeful, encouraged and thankful. They aid my conversations with God and so deepen my relationship with Him.

Questions and Answers

So where am I on this journey without our youngest son?

Do I think about him every day still? Yes. I think about him in the same way as I think about Aidan and Tara and Kevin every day. The difference is that I think about what they are up to, what sort of day they are having, any worries and anxieties they may have. With Kieran I think about how he would react in certain situations I find myself in, what he would think about something, whether he’d find something funny or be indignant about something.

Do I think about his death all the time and how he died? No, I don’t and I don’t think it would be healthy to do so. I don’t want to keep going over that day in France, we can’t go back, it happened and Kieran is now in Heaven. I try to be pragmatic about the fact that actually we all have to go sometime and surely when you are young, in your prime and able to have fun and be taken in that moment, well perhaps that’s the way to go. Not very helpful for those left behind though! I did find myself talking about the situation at length when I went to Lindisfarne at the start of June with my Reader friends, and it surprised me as I hadn’t actually gone over the stuff around it for a long time. Not because I’m in denial but because I went over enough at the time and months after it.

Do I still suffer from (non diagnosed) anxiety and get palpitations when I can’t control things? Rarely now, I think that is back at normal levels. Every time I face something I tick it off as something I have faced and survived! I remember the first time we flew again seeing the west coast of France, I got panicky and didn’t want to be flying so I could see the sea; I remember the first time we landed in Manchester airport, the airport Kieran‘s body had been flown back into and which we flew into afterwards, and I ticked that off my list too.

This year in September we are getting the ferry to Calais for the first time since and driving in our own car since to somewhere near Paris. That feels me with some anxiety, but will be something else to tick off once done.

Do I cry every day? No

Do I cry when I look at his photos? Sometimes. I can look at them briefly and smile. I look at them in depth and give them time to invoke memories, then yes.

When do I always cry? When I listen to the Dr Who theme, “Song of Freedom” which was played when we followed his coffin into church and which Kieran used to like to listen to.

When do I cry more often than not? When I talk to Kevin about Kieran

When do I never cry? When I talk to others about Kieran

Do I still get angry? I would have said no. But actually when we went to Cornwall a couple of weeks ago I had a wave of anger come over me at God again. We were walking around the Lizard peninsula by the coast. A place that holds many happy memories with the children when they were small and I was looking at the coastline, the majesty and greatness of the sea and remarking on how wondrous it was that God was behind everything. And I then felt a welling up of anger at him, at the waves that took my son. It subsided when I told myself it wasn’t the bit of sea that took Kieran.

Do I still compartmentalise? Yes. Rationally I know the seas and the oceans are one really, but I am able to enjoy seeing the sea and remember how Kieran and all of us loved it… but I have absolutely no desire to look upon the Atlantic ocean down the West of France and top of Spain- for that is the sea that took my boy away.

Is there anything I can’t do now? Yes. I can’t watch TV or films where there are underwater scenes, particularly if there is going to be a struggle or someone is going to drown o be at risk of drowning. I have to leave the room in good time. I don’t want to see a re-enactment of someone drowning, thanks very much! I was quite pleased with myself recently. I endured a CPR training session where the paramedic was showing us a live clip called “Bondi beach” and it was to show a particular type of gasp/ breathing. The Australian coastguards were having some sort of promotional video and were called out as it was being filmed to someone being rescued from the sea. It showed them doing first aid on someone who had stopped breathing, almost drowned. It was a successful resuscitation. The thing that kept me sitting in that room was that it was a work situation; I didn’t want to make a fuss and leave the room. So I sat with my eyes averted onto my lap and endured it. But I did it!

How has it been today? I’ve tried to be pragmatic about the anniversary today, although I have been very emotional first thing, waking before 6 again, my emotions tied up with it still being Tara’s birthday, no matter how she celebrates it a week later now- I still gave birth to her this day 22 years ago. Then I worry about Aidan because he isn’t local and I can’t mother him or fuss over him but know he feels it acutely and finds it difficult. Kevin just likes to have time alone with his thoughts. Tara came back this afternoon and she and I went off to Conkers and then Church where she put some flowers and a card. I had gone to Church yesterday and sat on a bench in the garden of remembrance; unfortunately there was a children’s’ party in the hall and church garden and there was loud music going on- so the moment of quiet I wanted yesterday kind of didn’t happen, but hey, that’s life! Today I had actually considered not going to our Church. I had thought I might slope of to sit anonymously at the cathedral, but actually I went, and I rang the bell (always Kieran’s job after Aidan’s) and the church was fuller than it had been for a while full of old familiar faces and new. And the worship was uplifting and the sense of the Holy Spirit was palpable today, and I was pleased that I was among friends and close to my boy’s ashes. How could I have considered sloping off elsewhere today?!

Will I be okay tomorrow? Yes. I have a clinic which is structured and focused on others in need of help and support and advice, and so no room for my own thoughts to wander, or become self-centred and turned inwards which is the danger with grieving, so that is good.

Will I be okay next week? Who knows! You see for the last 10 days or so I have been a little twitchy, feeling the approach of the anniversary and trying to fill my days and kind of put it off! I know it sounds a bit mad because I can’t put it off but sometimes I’m like that on a Sunday night! When it’s work the next day I really should go to bed earlier, but I want to put it off for as long as possible. And you see today is the first day, then we have the 3 days of waiting before he was found and the 27^th invokes memories of Kieran being found, identification and police statements, then the coming home, the unreal 3 weeks later and in between it was my mother-in-law’s birthday tomorrow- the day she was told, my birthday on the 6^th August and it was Aidan’s 2st birthday that year on the 12^th August. My parent travelled up on her birthday- the 20^th August for the funeral on the 21^st August- so all in all it is a chunk of summer that invokes memories

How have I been changed? I have discovered compassion! I have always been compassionate I think, because of my job. But in order to truly understand suffering I think you have to have suffered yourself. I have a great reliance on God (as you may have noticed!) and am aware that we have journeyed through this as a family in His strength alone. I changed career for 18 months and went into Huma Resources as I wanted to be able to advise managers and employees in order for all to be treated fairly, equally and with compassion, whatever. I came back to a part time HR and part time clinical role for the last 9 months but actually throughout this time I was changed by God! Let me explain further……… To put this into perspective! For the last 8 years I have been a licensed Reader in the Church of England. It took 3 years of training one Saturday a month and essays whereby it means I can lead non sacramental services and preach. I could also take funerals, but never have due to working full time. It’s something I do and felt called to do very much. I was always “anti- ordination”. Ordination = wearing a dog collar in other words- a Vicar in some shape of form in other words! Not anti-Vicars, but anti-Readers becoming Vicars really. It irritated me that people often saw being a Reader a step towards ordination rather than a ministry within its own right. I was perfectly happy being a Reader and tried to suppress actual annoyance when I heard of a Reader going for ordained ministry- I just never saw the point and laughingly used to say I clearly hadn’t been called to do that!

… But God certainly works in mysterious ways and as well as being a love of compassion, understanding, love, justice and all that, I believe He also has a wonderful sense of humour! One morning, about 20 months ago now, I woke up and was aware I had had a dream and felt different. I couldn’t remember the dream, I just felt different in some way at the core. However occasionally you can have a dream where you are left with the emotion of that dream for a couple of hours and so although I couldn’t remember the dream I put this changed feeling down to that. Anyway I got my Morning Prayer book out, as was my usual habit, and was reading away when suddenly the word “ordination” popped into my head. I pushed it away wondering where that word had come from but it kept coming into my head. I closed the book surprised for I had no irritation or anger in me when the word popped up! Over the next few days the word started to intrude everywhere and I was confused because where were the familiar feelings I felt against it? I couldn’t find them and kept looking for my resistance and irritation but just couldn’t find it in me anymore- the familiar feelings had gone. Indeed when the word came into me, after a couple of weeks I stopped resisting and felt this amazing peace flow through me. I submitted! I realised that God was calling me. I had this sense of a change in my being. It felt as though I was meant to be for God, rather than just do for God which was how I saw what I was as a Reader I think. There is more and I’ll explain the process in another post at some point soon, but God has changed me and somehow I feel that I am meant to use this experience of awfulness for God’s mission in the world and to be amidst those suffering, helping, and listening in some way.

So where from here? It’s been six months since I last blogged and it isn’t proper blogging anyway, it’s just a way of me recording my thoughts and feeling s as a mum who has lost a child. It helps me as I look back and see my journey, I hope it helps others in some way understand me and the complexities of the journey and I hope it might one day help others who lose a child in an accident find some hope and peace. There have been times when I have wanted to blog but literally not had the time. Amidst the weddings, my reflections when amidst such joy, the sense of Kieran not being there and the loss felt by us all at those times, resurfacing. For I guess this is how it is, for every family celebration and joy there is a sense that your loved ones in Heaven not there to share with you.

My blog will change now that I have been accepted for ordination training. It is still my journey of course and the catalyst was Kieran’s death so Kieran will still come into it. But I think I will divide my blog into part one and part two of Dawn’s journey from now on.

The Book of Love

 

The book of love is long and boring
No one can lift the damn thing
It’s full of charts and facts and figures
And instructions for dancing

But I
I love it when you read to me
And you
You can read me anything

The book of love has music in it
In fact that’s where music comes from
Some of it is just transcendental
Some of it is just really dumb

But I
I love it when you sing to me
And you
You can sing me anything

The book of love is long and boring
And written very long ago
It’s full of flowers and heart-shaped boxes
And things we’re all too young to know

But I
I love it when you give me things
And you
You ought to give me wedding rings

And I
I love it when you give me things
And you
You ought to give me wedding rings
You ought to give me wedding rings

Songwriters
Stephen Merritt

Sung by peter Gabriel

 

The Bible is long and can be boring in a few bits! It can’t be lifted because the words of God are infinite in their layers, personal  to each one of us and with different meanings  depending on when we read and where we are that particular hour of the day in our lives. Love can be long and boring. I think of my children, of my times with them growing up. So wondrous and yet the tedium of school runs, cooking tea, flying about taxi-ing them to and fro. I think of my love for Kieran. Everyday, but intense love for my child. Love hidden in the everyday, the ordinary. Mundane, as he announces he needs his goggles and yet suddenly intensified as I realise later they are the last words I ever heard him say. His life, ordinary and yet extraordinary. My love for him, ordinary maternal love- and yet realising that love is anything but ordinary- too late, when he has gone. If my love for him were a book- there are so many memories, layer upon layer, that I could not lift that book. I dreamt of him last week; the first time I had really dreamt of him solidly standing there in front of me and saying he was back, apologising. I woke with being able to feel myself huggling him, his image so strongly etched in my mind. And then I cried, like I hadn’t in a long time, heart renching sobs as I tried to hang on to the dream, wanting to be back in dreamland. Memories made real. Layer upon layer.

There are many long words and distant places, places that exist under different names now, lists of names and family trees, which if I’m honest I skip to the bottom of that list of names.

But this book and these words when read are God’s words to me, his guidance for my life, his love and comfort in those pages. Instructions for dancing remind me that God is a God of fun and humour too. Instructions for dancing mean it’s okay to find enjoyment in life again. Jesus enjoyed a good wedding and social occasion. I picture Jesus and Kieran having their own banquet in Heaven as we will toast the brides and grooms at his brother and sister’s forthcoming weddings.

There is music in the Bible, the music and poetry of the psalms and of course not forgetting the erotic Song of Songs, a love story, an allegory of God’s love for humankind, and of the intensity of divine love within the human heart. The enormity of what Christ did for me hits me- and it has done so for me on many occasions, but none more so when I realised that because of God’s sacrifice and love and extraordinary grace, my son was now with Him and not just ashes in the ground. The essence and soul of Kieran is there with Jesus and this has happened because of God’s incredible, indescribable love.

The Bible is superior and mystical in places, in others mundane and ordinary, with rules about foods to eat, head coverings and fibres that can be worn seeming to be just plain daft today. Grief can feel superior and mystical. You enter a place you don’t want to be, don’t know how to be, want to escape from and hurry along, and yet are powerless to do anything except just be. And yet through that grief I have grown. Grown and been blessed in ways I could never have imagined. The insights and fuller faith that has been realised as I have wrestled with God in my anger, un comprehension and tears and yet felt his presence so very near to me and deep within has been indescribable. I understand grief for others in a way I could never have understood before. And yet of course I recognise and feel powerless in another’s grief because it is such a lonely and unique experience. No-one can grieve for you; no-one grieves the same as you do.

For Harry Potter fans, at the start of the fifth book, Harry Potter and the Order of Phoenix, Harry sees the mystical creatures, Thestrals, pulling the school carriages. He is amazed that he has never seen them before, and not everyone appears to be able to see them. But his friend Luna points out that it is when you have seen death and understood that you have visibility of the creatures. And Harry had seen a fellow pupil die at the hands of evil Voldemort in the preceding book. He has experienced awful things but now sees these beautiful creatures. The tragic part of our lives open up new truths and new beauties despite the ugly pit we find ourselves in.

 

The Bible is full of hope. God rescuing us. So many types of writing Law, History, Wisdom, Poetry, Gospel, Epistles, Prophecy, and Apocalyptic Literature. It’s all there, sometimes beautiful, sometimes harsh.

Initially I’d argue that it isn’t all flowers and heart shaped boxes; that some of the Bible is horrific, like any love story, be it the love story you have with your child or your partner or your parents or your siblings. I think of how my remaining two argue and yet the love is there, an unbroken bond that comes from having the same childhood, the same setting, the same family, that knits you together, so in fact the flowers and love that weaves through the story, the song are always there amongst the horrors. Love flows through the words; God saving us again and again and again when we mess up once more.

We will always be too young to know the wondrous, infinite wisdom and being of God. We get but just a glimpse- but what a glimpse that is in Jesus Christ. The triune God come down to show us how to live since we just don’t get it! And then the ultimate saving grace as he takes all our sins that have been before us and will continue on and sacrifices himself so we can be united with him once more. That incredible love that soars beyond infinity and surpasses all understanding. And there we are the Bride of Christ. The church married to God.

The Bible is the book of love to me, God has given this to me, he speaks to me through it. Kieran’s life as my son is also personified in the book of love. This song seems quite ordinary at first, but think about it, reflect and it will speak to you of eternal love.