At the Cabin - Thursday

I woke to the sound of Jo's phone alarm, the tune is OK but the buzzing is horrible. I went back to sleep. This was repeated another twice or more, until Jo came and told me the time. So up and doing, but I'm very slow at getting started. Without the discipline of work my natural rhythm is reasserting itself. The session was 15 minutes earlier today. Jo left to go on her slow walk up the hill. I followed, I was not late.

Session 5 - My God, my God why have you forsaken me?

“Golgotha” - from The Passion, but it was created much earlier in a church somewhere where the sun reflecting off a gold cross took on the form of a skull.

What does “forsaken” mean? It is perhaps the worst word in the English language. Lonely, desperate, we talk of a “God forsaken place of community.. It is an awful concept.

When I was thinking and praying about Good Friday preaching, a long while ago, I had decide that a reflection on forsakenness and rejection should be the theme. The chosen readings though were completely different, so think again Pete, as I am committed to speaking on the Bible passage I am given. I wonder what imagery it conjures up for the non-Christian, non-believer, someone without a faith.

Jesus identified with and took on all these places on the cross.

Another expression of faith from a Jewish family hidden for the entirety of WWII:

I believe in the sun even when it's not shining...

My thought as we reflected on this was that God in his grace protects us from the pain that he feels through knowing all about the world.

God knows what it is to be God forsaken, it is one of the experiences that the cross brought to Him. God's solidarity is with man suffering, with those who are experiencing hell on earth.

Jesus died and descended to Hell. What was he doing there? Looking for His friend Judas we were told, but I remember a verse that says none have been lost except the one destined to be lost(John 17:12 ), does that mean Jesus didn't find Judas. Going on with this thought stream is not helpful, it leads to Jesus not being divine, so we must come back to the start and reject the original statement. There's a pointless theological discussion to have over a pint when you've finished putting the world to rights.

We were then told the story of an 8 year old. Boy and his 4 year old sister separated from their parents by the floods in Mozambique. They were searching for their parents. During the search they had acquired from relief workers a bag of maize meal. They were keeping it as a present for their Mum and Dad. The sight of the boy caring for his sister was truly beautiful.

Does true beauty always come from adversity?

“I Thirst”

There is apparently a connection to my god my god …, although I'm still not sure I got it at all. There were a trio of ladies I over heard discussing it as we were leaving, so some of them got it.

Adrian sang a song which ended with the line “I would never choose freedom” (from God). I was thinking about freedom as we walked up among the daffodils yesterday. What is freedom for? What do you want to be free to do? Murder and Kill everything that isn't you? That is not freedom. Do you want the freedom to be kind, generous etc., well there is no law against it, so you have that freedom already – everywhere.

At the end we were asked to reflect on:

• What does forsakenness mean? >> rejection – but not in a nice way!

• What does thirst mean?

Session 6 – It is finished

More accurately accomplished or fulfilled.

Part of “Do not go gently into that good night” was read. It is Dylan Thomas' rage against the dying of his father.

What will our response be to death – it is hard to tell, they said, and that is certainly true. My response has been different to each death I have experienced. It changes with the relationship to the person, my own age, and the circumstances.

“What will our response be to our own death?” The question should be phrased as “What will our response be to the knowledge that we are dying?” as it is impossible to have a response come back from beyond the grave.

Raging at the end of life they said is because we are somehow unfinished, there are things left to do. We are unfulfilled, or perhaps I could say, unkindly, unaccomplished. It is because of a lack of trust in God, that he has the answers to the unfathomable question that is the meaning of life. That may well be true for some, and if you have a “life's work” then dying before it is complete is indeed something to be raged against. Most of us though do not have a “life's work” set out before us at any time. This raised some difficult questions for me, being so thankful that my accident didn't kill me, as it so easily could have. (Falling over is the most common cause of premature death in the UK)

Disturbingly, for me, when I ask the question “Why am I still here?”, I seem to get the deeply unsatisfactory answer “It doesn't matter”. Which ever interpretation I put on that doesn't help with the process of living, or do anything to adjust the raging level at dying (can you rage less or more than you once did?).

My training as a reader taught me little, but showed me lots. It showed me that there are other lives out there, other experiences that I had no inkling of. Much of this came from my placement, but some also from the training itself. There is so much I don't know anything of, I don't even know if I can't understand it! To only come across these things after half a century of life just shows how poor my life has been so far. Sure I am unfulfilled, look what You have shown me!! Imagine living in a village on a plain all your life, then as you approach old age discovering hills, mountains even!

Edmund shared a story from his ministry. He used to visit the trauma ward, and minister to those with broken hips, arms, etc. He was used to doing it. One day the person he spoke to was a dying cancer patient, He was thrown, and she ended up ministering to him. She was so serene. Edmund wrote her a letter and burned it. That was his response -you can't send that sort of letter. How I would love to hear the other side of that story.

The story made me ask whether I really do do ministry?

A picture of fulfilment is Simeon, who said on seeing the baby Jesus, “Now I can die happy (fulfilled). We do not know that Simeon was old, just that he was fulfilled. My questioning started again. “How can you live a life if you are already fulfilled?” I cannot conceive of it.

We were asked to reflect on:

What would enable us to say 'It is finished' at the end of our lives?
What are the things we have left to fulfil?
Where is the wholeness we long for?
Can we receive?

Session 7 Communion – Into your hands I commit my spirit

Many of the songs we had sung were used at this service, which had a fairly traditional flavour. The session was all about trust in God. The question for me was How much do I really trust in God? I trust my self, my judgement and my abilities, and I like to think I understand my limitations. I trust in those close to me for the day to day things that are needed. I trust in stranger when I have to (surgeons, anaesthetists, for example). I trust in God when there is no-one else. Shouldn't it be the other way up? I suppose so, but how exactly to you trust in God to get you to the bus stop in the morning?

The Journey Home

Friday morning was foggy, in packing and tidying up I broke a table lamp. It was not a good start. No superb views across the uplands, just fog, and the red lights of the car in front, all the way to the Motorway. That was slow too, because of the Fog. Before we got to the M4 I missed The Cabin, Lee Abbey, and the time we had spent there. We arrived home mid-afternoon, I was tired out by the difficult drive, and doing too much (all) of it, because I'm stubborn.