Category: Thought for the Week

I cannot remember the last time the BBC led their news with a story featuring the Church of England and the Archbishop of Canterbury. Unfortunately….

As I followed the news, I realised I knew some of the victims, from 40 years ago when we were students together. I had no idea what they had been subject to, although I was never very close to any of them. I have been reflecting on how we currently so safeguarding; I write this before chairing a PCC meeting where I had already been planning to run a safeguarding exercise, one I used at another PCC meeting I chaired last week and which worked well. Both the current and previous Safeguarding Officers employed by the diocese are ex-police officers. I do not think they are technically “independent”, but when they tell me something, I take action; I would not wish to cross either. From what I have seen of senior clergy, they also appear to me to share that same respect. But perhaps I have already said too much, too much in self-justification of the church and myself. I wonder if the words that really count are those recently written by a current Bishop, Guli Francis-Dehqani, who I respect; that history shows that when the Church is large and powerful, it has rarely acted at its best.

Rev David Poyner

The people of the USA have made their choice and we have had the speeches, both of victory and defeat. President-elect Trump has called for healing, but for me, the most profound speech came from the soon-to-be-outgoing President, Joe Biden. The result was clearly a blow for him; he had already been humiliated in that debate and now he had to face that his term in office had been found wanting by the majority of the US electorate. He spoke about accepting the will of the people; the virtue of humility. And he had a memorable line about how to disagree with grace; “we cannot only love our neighbour when we agree with them”. In that, he reconnected with the message of the parable of the Good Samaritan as told by Jesus 2000 years ago. More than ever, particularly this weekend as we commemorate the dead of over a century of wars, that message is one we need to hear. 

Rev David Poyner

I write this article on 1^st November, All Saints Day when the church remembers what might be called the “heroes” of faith, although some had darker sides to their nature. Tomorrow we have All Souls Day, when the focus becomes broader and we recall all those who have died in faith. I can relate to these better than to most of the saints and the occasion is particularly poignant for me; on Monday one of the most faithful members of one of our congregations died. At a time when the attendance at the monthly church service was down to two people, his continuing presence gave us hope that the church still had a future. In more recent times, when he was struggling with his health, the highlight of my Friday mornings would be my weekly visit to him, with his copy of the Times for the crossword. Over a cup of tea, we would dissect the week’s football results; as a Liverpool supporter he was generous to myself as a Manchester Utd fan. I wonder who was ministering to whom in our conversations? Some are uneasy about praying for the dead and, intellectually, I do not really understand this. However, most of prayer is a mystery, at least to me. Over the next few days I will be giving thanks for the life of John and praying that he rests in peace and rises in glory.

Rev David Poyner

November 5th approaches but Bonfire night with the burning of the Guy seems to vanished from popular culture. Some were always uncomfortable with what they imagined lay behind this, the burning alive of individuals, and sadly churches of all denominations once eagerly embraced this practice. There is a fine line between zeal and fanaticism; it has always been easy for some to delude themselves that they are doing the work of God, not committing murder. To some however, the zeal of those who were the victims of the burners also seems uncomfortable. The journalist and vice president of Humanists UK, Polly Toynbee, has described martyrdom as a “repugnant virtue”. There are individuals who seem to relish confrontation over issues that could probably be resolved more easily by talking; I have dealt with a few of those myself. But there are cases where evil needs to be named and confronted and this can be costly. On a recent trip to London, I was able to view the statues at the front of Westminster Abbey; twelve martyrs of the 20^th century who fell opposing dictators in the name of their faith. There is line from those going all the way back to Stephen, the first Christian martyr, who refused to compromise on what he believed to be true and so was sacrificed to a mob. These are not individuals practicing a “repugnant virtue”, they are people who recognised that sometimes truth was worth more than their own lives.

Rev David Poyner

Last Saturday I was at Chetton village hall for a concert by an Irish duo who go by the name of “Hooded Crow”. The hall was full, the music good, the company even better. This wasn’t a church service, I have no idea how many of the people who came would consider themselves to be Christian or even religious, but that does not keep God out. By a coincidence, the priest and poet/performer, Malcolm Guite, wrote a short piece in the Church Times along this theme. It was written after a colleague encouraged him to remember St Francis at one of his performances; the Rev Guite is a Franciscan and the poem is called “St Francis drops in on My Gig”.

I didn’t think I’d find you in this place

I guess you must have slipped in at the back

I’m lifting my guitar out of its case

But seeing you I nearly put it back!

You smile and say that it’s your local too,

You know the ins and outs of inns like this,

The people here have hidden wounds like you,

And you have bidden them to hidden bliss.

‘Francis I’ve only straggled after you,

I’ve never really caught your melody,

The joy you bring when every note rings true…’

But you just laugh and say ‘play one for me!’

This one’s for you then, on the road once more,

The first, the last, the hard-core troubadour.

(St. Francis drops in on my gig! | Malcolm Guite (wordpress.com))

Rev David Poyner

David Tennant, the former Dr Who actor, is putting on a new performance of Macbeth, in which every member of the audience will have earphones so they listen to even the quietest whispers from the actors. He has spoken of how this will help with the famous scene where Macbeth is confronted by witches who tell of his fate. He feels this is very difficult to stage successfully for modern audiences, with little or no belief in the supernatural. I am not entirely convinced that this is the case, but it is certainly true that there is less recognition of anything beyond ourselves in modern society. His solution is for the witches never to appear on stage at all; the audience will simply hear voices and left to work out for themselves the reality of what they are hearing.  At that point, I began to warm to the idea. Many years ago, a hymn writer described the call of God as the “still small voice of calm”, picking up episode describing the experience of the prophet Elijah in the Old Testament. Equally, I wonder what voices those who do evil think they hear? Perhaps the play is onto something important is dramatising the inner voice?

Rev David Poyner

In a few days, we will mark the 1^st anniversary of the 7^th October attack on Israeli civilians, the taking of the hostages and so to our present situation with over 40,000 killed in Gaza and now a war in Lebanon. A few months ago, I brought to this column the words of the Anglican Archdeacon of Jerusalem, when asked if he had any hope. He replied that in the city that witnessed the resurrection, there was always hope; it was harder to be optimistic. Those words came back to me a few days ago, when the lectionary featured Psalm 87. The second half of this psalm is as follows;

“I will mention Egypt and Babylon among those who know Me – along with Philistia, Tyre, and Ethiopia – when I say, ‘This one was born in Zion.’ ”

And it will be said of Zion: “This one and that one were born in her, and the Most High Himself will establish her.”

The LORD will record in the register of the peoples: “This one was born in Zion.”

Singers and pipers will proclaim, “All my springs of joy are in You.”

The Old Testament is sometimes portrayed as the record of vengeful God who revels in smitings. However, as this psalm shows, there is another side, as the writer recognises how the God of Israel is also the God of all peoples. Perhaps this gives some more grounds for hope as this anniversary comes upon us.

Rev David Poyner

This week I will be travelling to Cambridge, to conduct the funeral of Ian, my former head of department; a man who I first met 40 years ago when he taught me as an undergraduate. I am doing the service because Ian has been tremendously influential; he was one of the people who showed me how to behave as a scientist. 

Role models are very important to all of us, in the way they influence us, hopefully for the good. However, it is not just those we have known for a lifetime that can be influential; apparently trivial acts can also be important. This morning, I was delivering leaflets advertising services at Billingsley and Glazeley for the coming month. I stopped at one house, exchange a brief greeting with the owner and then got back into my car to drive on. However, he came running after me and stopped me. In his hand was a £20 note, which I had dropped after my last visit a month ago; I hadn’t noticed until he reminded me. I spent the rest of the day pondering this small act of kindness. Just as Ian has influenced me over 40 years, this also has reminded me of how I should behave in my dealings with others. Small acts can make a difference.

Rev David Poyner

Vicars tend to see a lot of death; it is not too much of an exaggeration to say that we bury people for a living. And if you ply us with enough alcohol, we will usually admit we have only a limited number of funeral sermons; we (hopefully) personalise them, but the theme is usually drawn from the same small pool. However, a couple of weeks ago I read an obituary of the former Bishop of Birmingham, Mark Santer. He requested a quotation from St Augustine on death that I had not previously come across. I will now be adding it to my themes for funeral sermons.

“There we shall rest and we shall see; we shall see and we shall love; we shall love and we shall praise. That is what shall be in the end without end. For what is our end but to arrive at the kingdom which has no end?”

Rev David Poyner

This weekend sees the Ride and Stride, the main fund-raising event for the Shropshire Historic Churches Trust, that provides grants for the repair of the old churches and chapels within the county; we get no money for this from the state or the diocese. Some see our old churches as a barrier to mission; we spend energy preserving stone and mortar that would be better spent proclaiming the Gospel. I disagree; we underestimate the power of God to work through a sacred space to our peril, to our folly. This is an extract from the poem “Little Gidding” by T.S. Elliot, as he reacts to the ancient church and shrine at Little Gidding in Cambridgeshire, a place hallowed by devotion.

If you came this way,
Taking any route, starting from anywhere,
At any time or at any season,
It would always be the same: you would have to put off
Sense and notion. You are not here to verify,
Instruct yourself, or inform curiosity
Or carry report. You are here to kneel
Where prayer has been valid. And prayer is more
Than an order of words, the conscious occupation
Of the praying mind, or the sound of the voice praying.
And what the dead had no speech for, when living,
They can tell you, being dead: the communication
Of the dead is tongued with fire beyond the language of the living.
Here, the intersection of the timeless moment
Is England and nowhere. Never and always.

Rev David Poyner