Motes and Beams

Today is Buble Study Day. 

A small group of us meet once a month at Chris' house in Aston Ingham. We catch up over tea and homemade cake, then sit together in silence for five minutes, allowing ourselves to just be, revelling in contemplation of the Author of Love, who is my dearest and closest friend. Some who read this will think me deluded, or crazy, but that's OK, you create your reality around your Significant Other and I'll create mine, and may you be as blessed as I am by it.

 

We are examining our worldview around the Gospel of Luke and we are, after many months, wrestling with Chapter Six. It's serious stuff, Jesus gets down to the nitty-gritty with anti-capitalist heresy like, "Blessed are the poor ..." We rich are a tad uncomfortable with the implications of THAT, and so we should be. We concluded that if Christians paid as much attention to the eight Beatitudes as they do to the ten Commandments, we'd have transformed the world a millennia ago. But there you are, we don't and we haven't.

 

Today we are hitting up against 'Do not judge.' This is some deal, because we judge the behaviour of others all the time, usually with the intent of making ourselves feel better at their expense. I can see we're going to have fun with this.

 

The Carpenter takes the metaphor of a speck of sawdust and a plank of wood. How we delight in offering to remove the slight blemish that obscures true vision in someone else, whilst ignoring the the bloody great plank that blinds ourselves to our own faults.

 

I got to thinking about this. 'Do not judge' isn't a wish, or an aspiration, or a polite suggestion:it's a command.

 

Wouldn't it be amazing if we Christians actually obeyed it? 

Buddhists routinely practise the cultivation of a non-judgemental mind. We Christians could do with the humility to recognise this as a great spiritual insight, and do likewise. 

 

I talk to God all the time, and sometimes I even wait for a response. Here's one that is relevant for today:

 

"You can have judgement, Mary, if you want it. I'll start with you, shall I?"

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The New Pilot Inn

Looks empty doesn't it? The New Pilot Inn closed some time ago. I used to frequent it, and I still do, though these days in it's new incarnation as a refuge centre for the homeless and street people. They call it 'The Vaughn Centre ' now, and it does good work as the centre for the BRILLIANT Homeless Healthcare Team and GEAR, the Homeless charity that offers facilities for aforementioned fellow-citizens down on their luck.

My mum and dad used to play darts here. In my (very) late teens, I used to accompany them on match days, drink half a pint of cider and blackcurrant, and marvel at how my father could hit the bullseye and calculate what he needed to 'finish' in seconds. Mum, not so good at either, but a worthy member of the team anyway. I was never good enough to play in the team, but I could occasionally hit the board ...

Two weeks ago, I learned from my friend Tony Hipkins, who majors in holding Gloucestershire County Council to account for its provision for vulnerable people, emailed to say that GEAR has no funding to open the Vaughn Centre at Christmas this year. I shall find out why, in due course, to see if a fuss needs to be made about it, but in the meantime there is some cash to raise. £200, in fact.

Abigail and I went to church this morning. Not together, because she goes with with her mum and dad. When I arrived she was crying becauss she'd lobbed her pet dinosaur across the aisle and hit somebody. When mummy requested that she desist from such behaviour, Abigail took offence and started to howl. She's my granddaughter, and I love her to bits, but I know mummy is right, so Abs just has to get over it without sympathy from grandma.

Father Aidan gave me permission to make an appeal for a second collection for GEAR and Christmas, and I sit preoccupied through the Mass wondering what I am going to say, as the "Feed The World" angle has already been taken.

Abigail returns from Little Church, dinosaur trauma forgotten, with an activity book all about Advent. "Look grandma!" She announces, loudly, because that's her volume setting, and she reads, "No room at the inn!"

A light goes on in my brain:

"I'm not sure of what I'm going to say, because this is so close to my heart, (and here I tear up) but Abigail has just reminded me of when I was a teenager and used to go with my mum and dad to play darts at The New Pilot Inn in Gloucester, which is now a refuge for the homeless, and which can't open at Christmas this year because it has no money. Honestly, if the church can't open the inn door to the lonely and the lost at Christmas, we might just as well pack up and go home... "

Not sure how I ended up, but the result was a collection that raised far more than £200

That's Christmas sorted, now let's see what can be done for the new year ...

 

 

Contemplative Prayer

Because I speak in tongues - not an unusual accomplishment for a Pentecostal, but slightly embarrassing for a Roman Catholic, someone asked me if I was a mystic! How I laughed! I am not.
The speaking in tongues began as spontaneous outpourings of love and gratitide, not even too sure as to Whom or What, when I was a child. Still is.
I have long since moved from noise, however mystical, to silence. I am learning ( who could ever say they have learned?) to open my heart and still my mind and observe, compassionately, what arises. It's a fantastic practise, neither easy ( or it wouldn't be worth the effort) ... Or difficult (or I couldn't do it) just liberating!
Imagine! Not having to work out what's best for me, you, the planet, the universe and ask God to do it. Instead, to wait, and stand under His knowing, and trust Him to let it be, and to let it be good.

Confessions Of A Tea-Lady

Is everything in place? I survey the Tea Table with a critical eye:

Urn:  full and switched on.    Check.

Tea, coffee, juice: All present and correct.

Mugs, milk, sugar, juice cups: OK

We're ready for the off. Some Mondays a vital element is missed, and chaos ensues when our people roll in. The importance of getting everything just so, cannot be understated. The Tea Table is the first port of call. The 'meet and greet' of the Salvation Army Monday Lunch. Volunteer Meryl offers to help. She's good, but unfocussed; regarding the Tea Table as a stepping stone to the job she's really on fire for, chatting to the clients. Me, I'm in my element. Smiling and saying hello is a particular strength of mine and I play up to it. I am glad of Meryl's help with the initial rush: she wields the teapot whilst I serve the coffe and oversee juice distribution. 

We are going to serve sixty or more lunches today. I see that we have three new faces, I make a mental note to follow up on the hello when things quieten down a bit. 

Johan takes two coffees for himself and Cordelia. I slip him a lawyers business card. Cordelia has an injury acquired at the chicken processing  factory and can no longer work. They sleep in a car. 

Andrew takes his tea black. He's a retired librarian and a polyglot. He once taught me to say hello in Serbo-Croat, but I have long forgotten how. He's Jewish, and very accommodating to we Christians. He knows the Law and The Prophets far better than we do, and loves an argument.

Dave's in today. Haven't seen him for weeks.  He's lost four and a half stone. He looks brighter, having just had his benefits reinstated. An official at the Job Centre sanctioned him( ie stopped his money) for non- attendance at a scheduled appointment that he hadn't attended because she's omitted to notify him about it Her superior eventually overrulled her. "You were lucky this time," the unrepentant official told Dave. 

Dave lost weight because he couldn't  afford to eat. "I'll come with you next time." I promise. 

Alex appears and offers to serve drinks whilst I move round the tables and chat.

Chris is looking rough. He's South African, a Catholic: former seminarian. I don't ask why he never became a priest. I discover he is a member of Opus Dei  "Do you know about it?" He asks. "Only from Dan Brown!" I laugh. Andy hears him say that he has no money, and having been in that situation himself, he butts in on the conversation and tells him where to get vouchers for the Food Bank.  

Welfare Officer at the Council Offices. I'm grateful to Andy. I'm often asked and usually refer people to , "Help The Aged", because that's where my brother got his vouchers when he needed them. Chris isn't old enough. 

I have a stack of books for Brian who now has his driver's license and  is looking SO much better now that he's receiving treament for PTSD. He opens the bag and rummages with genuine delight. 'Just what I wanted!" He exclaims at Darwin's 'Origin of Species'. I knew that, and having never more than glanced at it, was happy to hand it over. I hope, with all my heart, the more fundamentalist of the helpers didn't spot it! We Catholics have no problem with Darwin, or any human attempt to fathom the miracle of Creation. I gave him "99 Things To Do Between Here and Heaven" too,  having reasoned that I've done all the ones I want to (including starting this blog) and there's a spiritual reflection on each, that will lead Brian a little deeper, if he so wishes. 

I'm called over by Karen and Anthony to sort out a problem. My very favourite occupation, truth be told. "What's the difference between a Catholic and a Christian?" They want to know. Anthony's RC, Karen's C of E, and they are planning to marry in Church. Somewhere.

I throw myself eagerly into the fray. It's a useful discussion that involves everyone on the table. I was expecting hostility, but discover none. "Marry in the RC Church, and the Anglicans will bless it. That's how my daughter and son-in-law managed it. And you, young man," I wave my finger in mock-menace at Anthony, "Had  better get yourself off to Mass and book the Church!" Everyone laughs. 

"Look," I finish, "We volunteers are from many Christain denominations. We're here to do the job  Christ left us to do. What's important is this coming together, all of us, and sharing the love of God." 

Brian asks where I go to church, "Newent."I reply, "But if youre looking for somewhere, you couldn't do better than here." 

God Bless the Salvation Army. 

PS: All that I know of Opus Dei may be found here:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Opus_Dei