(Lenten
series IV, Friday 25 March 2022)
If
you decide to move into a retirement village to live, almost certainly you have
to downsize. At Summerset Falls one day
I saw some slight difficulty with downsizing – this couple had just moved in to
their retirement unit…or tried to… and goods and chattels were spilling out of
doors, out of the garage, out the windows, out to the road. They had brought it all, but there was nowhere
to put it, and things were already getting tricky with the neighbours. I mention it here because, by analogy, downsizing
is a serious part of growing up in faith. Not only goods and chattels…one of
the aspects of talking with people about faith these days is seeing what we
“always thought” but can actually part with without taking leave of faith in
God… indeed, enhancing faith in God… seeing someone discover how simplicity,
travelling light in faith, discarding excess baggage, may open doors of freedom
and fresh understanding.
To
be able for instance – and I admit for some this can be anything but simple --
to take leave of the God who might be angry with us, the God who keeps account,
who watches that we have been good, who punishes, who has therefore to be
besought and placated… A dear
parishioner I will never forget, deeply wounded in his earlier years, one
morning was waiting for me at church with a copy of Lady Julian of Norwich. He had her writings opened where she says, Jesus
will never ever leave the place he occupies within our soul, for in us he is
completely at home and we are his eternal dwelling-place.[1] “Is that true, Boss”, he asked (Tom called me
Boss). “Yes Tom, I believe it is.” Lady Julian had reached out from the 14th
century and helped Tom lay down the excess baggage of guilt and sorrow.
For
some people, downsizing may mean, in the words of the Serenity Prayer, finally accepting
what I cannot change… or more likely, being content now for God to change it,
or not, in God’s time. Hands off… There are plenty for whom downsizing in faith
may mean letting go of rigid attitudes to the Bible, or to aspects of moral
behaviour, or to hallowed teachings which are plainly not in accord with the
way or the spirit of Jesus. It may mean,
and often does, shedding attitudes to someone else which have poisoned life for
years... learning to forgive, or to relinquish control, to unload the burden,
to move on. In this time of crisis we
are discovering afresh what it means if the way of Christ is going to be as Jesus
taught, and as that might be applied in our lives in the 21st
century. When Jesus sent his disciples
out he instructed them: Take nothing for your journey, no staff, nor bag,
nor bread, nor money – not even an extra tunic.[2] I hasten to say, there’s no need to get
literal about that! For each of us as Jesus’s disciple it is quite salutary
enough to have thought honestly and clearly about all our possessions, our
attitudes and opinions, appreciating what is good there, knowing why we have it
all -- but also asking ourselves what would be left were it all removed. Simplicity, in possessions, in beliefs and
attitudes, clears space and helps to focus attention.
In
these times of crisis, moreover, we people of faith need to downsize our words
-- we need to take care with the labels we pin on people, avoiding hyperbolic
abuse and silly overstatement in conversation… and the judgements people
express as though everyone would or should agree. Downsizing pays more attention to silence
instead of words, to thoughtfulness and a willingness to listen… Benedict calls
it restraint of speech. And I imagine
the ultimate restraint of speech is contemplative prayer itself – we downsize
to the mantra, we shut down our speech and thought and imagining and fantasies,
memories and regrets… simply, for a period, to renew and air the space for God. As the Psalmist so simply puts it: Be
still, and know…[3]
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