From Father Gavin Berriman

Dear Friends,                 

                  One of the things that struck me while I was on sabbatical writing about Sacred Space is that St Augustine’s is a very important sacred space in Grove Park that people have such little access to. For insurance purposes, sadly, churches have to be kept locked these days unless there is someone around, and this means that people do not have the access to them that they once had. There was a time when you could just pop into a church to look around, to pray or just find a little peace and quiet but on a whole that is not the case now. People usually find a very unwelcoming locked door just when they need that sacred space. I get a number of callers at the vicarage asking if they can get into church for a few minutes, and when I am around I can let them in; but I wonder just how many people call when I am not there, or do not think to knock at the vicarage? Ironically, this age of locked churches comes at a time when we need sacred space more than ever. In our crowded and busy world there are not too many places where we can get space and peace we crave. One of the greatest gifts we can give to our community is the gift of sacred space, an opportunity for a little silence and peace; somewhere to feel embraced and protected from the busyness and madness of modern life. I would like to make it one of our projects this year to do just that.

By the time this month ends we will have entered the season of Lent; a season that calls us to look within and find some space to reflect. I would like us to begin this project during Lent and ensure that our church building is open and accessible at various times during the week for people to pop in and experience the sacred space we enjoy and value here. Of course for this to happen will require people to be there so the church is not left unattended. Do you have a spare hour or so that you would be willing to give for this ministry? It may even be the perfect opportunity for you to find your own sacred space during this holy season. We may be there for an hour and nobody comes but that does not matter, the important thing is that we are providing the opportunity. If you are willing to be a part of this project please let me know, and lets share this space that is so special to us with others. 

                                                                               Best wishes

                                                                                                    Gavin  

LENT, LOVE AND LAUGHTER

Once upon a time there was a monk who was celebrating the twenty-fifth anniversary of taking his final vows. Let’s call him Gregory.  Now Gregory was not an endearing person; he was a very, very difficult monk, and over the twenty five years in the monastery he had hurt and offended his monastic brothers too many times to count.  Sometimes no one could even look at him and shielded their eyes when he walked by or spoke to them. Nobody could work with him. Whenever he was given a job on the farm or in the laundry the other monks would beg the Abbot to move him somewhere – anywhere – else. So celebrating this great occasion with a feast was going to be a delicate operation. But they managed pretty well until Fr Bernard, a very sweet simple old monk, came up behind Gregory, gave him a hug and said “Congratulations Father!  Just think of it twenty-five years attendance in the school of the Lord’s service. We are all so proud of you.” Nothing irritated Gregory more than kind words so he replied sarcastically: “That’s right Father, I’ve been a monk for twenty –five years…and it’s been pure hell.”  Father Jerome, sitting across from Gregory, smiled and said cheerfully “Yes. Yes indeed... Now tell us what it has been like for you?!”  They laughed. Then Gregory began to laugh, he laughed and he laughed and he laughed until he just couldn’t stop. And soon the tears came.

Father Jerome’s witty response spoke to a truth that the monks at table were trying hard not to think about. Gregory had been a burden to them for a quarter of a century. What they realised, the moment that Jerome spoke was that, the truth was far greater and deeper than that; here were those same brothers twenty-five years later , all gathered around Gregory, all eating with him, all sharing fellowship and what is more having a good laugh together. Gregory was loved.

Celebrating his jubilee made sense after all. They were celebrating God’s Mercy made visible by the brother’s willingness to forgive Gregory all the pain and hurt and disruption he had caused them. Sitting at table together those twenty-five years seemed to contract to a single moment and their meaning was made clear: it was all about mercy, a fantastic, mysterious largeness of Love glimpsed in Jerome’s teasing remark.  It was as if, for the monks sitting there, time had come to its fullness; life had been made complete. For an instant they glimpsed eternity and realised that Gregory – was going to be ok and they were going to be ok too. Everything was going to be ok – and this insight made them laugh. And Gregory, the notorious and nasty monk, laughed harder and longer than anyone. He laughed until he cried.

Every year we hear the Lenten scriptures and the words “This is the time of fulfilment. Repent and believe the Gospel” and we say to ourselves “Oh no not Lent again!” But it’s ok to think that, because the one we hear calling loves us is endlessly tolerant of our weaknesses and grumbling. What would we like to say to Jesus?  Would it be something along the lines of “Listen, I don’t like Lent. I’ve just come through a long cold winter, I’m downright miserable and I want a bit of fun, but what happens it’s******Lent again and you want more solemnity, discipline and devotion. Frankly all this Lent stuff bores me rigid. It is pure hell”.  [Confession time… I often think that even if I don’t say it out loud. But now, of course I have!]

In the midst of grumbling we might meditate on Jesus’ patience. Better yet, when we catch ourselves complaining about Lent we could take a moment and think what it might have been like for him.  Sitting with Gregory the other monks experienced time coming to fulfilment. Jesus is saying that now; this moment, this Lent of 2012, is THE time of fulfilment. In Jesus’ words, all history is collapsing into a single moment and it is this moment which reveals to us the meaning of all the events that have occurred in the world since the beginning of time. The deepest meaning of all is Mercy. It is all about Mercy.

As Lent begins we are called to Repent. Let’s not think that that is something which is terribly difficult. Could it be more difficult for us than for Gregory? But the moment came when Gregory did repent, even with tears.  Why should it be so hard for us?  Could the one who confronts us with our sin in the readings for this season be less understanding, less loving than Father Bernard or Father Jerome?  Simply attend to the readings and realise that it is Love, Love incarnate, who is saying “Repent”. For if it is Love himself who is saying “Repent”, then we are Loved and if we are Loved by Love Himself, and wish to repent, then we are as good as forgiven already – forgiven for everything! Let’s meditate on that this Lent because I suspect that when we do it will make us want to laugh and laugh and laugh.  Let us laugh then…until we weep.

Richard Norton

Reader

THE POWER OF PRAYER

On New Year’s Day for my sermon I shared a letter that was written to us by someone we have been praying for, and I have been asked to include the sermon in this magazine. I don’t usually print sermons in the magazine but I will on this occasion because I think it is good for us to know what happens when we pray for a person we have never even met, and how vital our prayers are, no matter how inadequate we may perceive them to be.

Every week during our intercessions you will hear a list of names read out of people we have been asked to remember in our prayers. Some of those names stay on the list a short time, others are more long term. To most of us it will just be a name; we rarely know who they are or what has happened to them – only that their names appear and then disappear from our prayer list.

I suppose it begs the question: If we do not know who these people are or why we are being asked to pray for them do our prayers have any real value?  Do they have any effect? This morning I would like to read out parts of a letter we have received from one person we have been praying for which I think answers those questions. For quite a while now there has been a lady called **** on our prayer list. She writes the following:

I was moved to write this letter following a telephone conversation with one of your congregation; he relayed to me how your church has been praying for me throughout my illness. Your prayers have not been in vain as I am making great progress and I feel I am on the road to recovery despite what the medical professionals have diagnosed. My greatest strength is through my faith in the Lord. I place my trust in him and have accepted whatever he has designed for me. When I was first diagnosed with terminal cancer I was angry and confused, and could see no light at the end of the tunnel. After many months of gruelling treatment, I began to realise that I can carry this cross.

I am very happy at the moment and am grateful for the prayers and good wishes you have sent me. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, I feel that I know all of you. One time when I was feeling a little down I asked God why I have cancer, and why you he couldn’t give me a miracle. I received an answer in a most unusual way. I was reading a book about miracles, medicine and love; and the author said:

“Look for the miracle that is happening inside yourself; the strength you never knew you had; look at the love that is all around you; look to yourself and see how you can change for the better good of other people.”

My questions were answered in that moment. Every day I thank the Lord that there are people like you who have a strong faith, and are willing to pray for a stranger who needs their prayers. That is my miracle.

I hope you have found inspiration in this letter. I hope you feel the love I have for all of you, you who have the generosity of spirit, who are willing to share your precious moments with the Lord in remembering me in your prayers. Once again thank you. You are in my prayers and in my heart.  Yours in Faith.  ****

That letter really pulled me up short and challenged me. I don’t know about you but I find it very easy to just let those names wash over me after a while; especially those who have been on our list a long time. This letter has reminded me of what an extraordinary and powerful thing we do when we hold someone before God in our prayers. It has reminded me of what an awesome ministry it is that God has called us to in prayer and what an incredible privilege and responsibility we have

in sharing the cross of someone we do not even know.

The fact is we do not normally see the effect of our prayer, it’s work is often hidden. Because it is hidden, because we do not see the impact of our ministry, it is easy to become blasé about our prayers and think of them as ineffectual. They are not. Our prayer makes a difference. Our prayer is vital to God’s plan.

This person’s letter arrived a few weeks before Christmas. I have waited until today to share it with you because I felt it was an appropriate way for us to celebrate our first Eucharist of the New Year. Her letter reminds us of the enormity of what we are called to be a part of; it reminds us that what we do here on a Sunday is not just for ourselves, but for people we do not know or not even heard of.

I finish with some words from the letter:

“Look for the miracle that is happening inside yourself;

the strength you never knew you had;

look at the love that is all around you;

Every day I thank the Lord

that there are people like you who have a strong faith,

and are willing to pray for a stranger who needs their prayers.

That is my miracle.”

 Gavin