Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

Art of Lent – Joy

Posted: March 18, 2018 by leighannegreenwood in Uncategorized

This Lent I am using Sister Wendy Beckett’s ‘The Art of Lent’ as my daily devotional. Each day offers a work of art and a short thought. Each Sunday I will share what has struck me most during the week.

My favourite painting this week was Baby in Red Chair by an unknown artist. It’s not the one I’d most like to hang on my wall – that honour would probably go to Monet’s White Clematis – but I do like it as an image of sheer contentment.


I remember seeing this look on my little one’s face, when he fell asleep in my arms as a small baby. If it is an expression of joy as Sister Wendy suggests, it is a quiet joy which comes from an absolute confidence that all is well with the world.

That kind of joy is easier to come by when a bellyful of milk and a safe pair of arms will solve any fear and ease any pain, when there are no tasks or bills to worry about and the horrors of the world pass by unnoticed, but I don’t think it slips beyond our reach when we leave infancy.

If my baby’s joy came from a certainty that he was held and loved, we can recapture that joy by allowing ourselves to know the truth that we too are held and loved.

I recently read about Kate Wharton, an Anglican vicar who has been called to a life of celibacy and writes powerfully about her experience of the blessings and burdens of singleness. She recently had a ceremony in which she made vows to God in the presence of family and friends, one of whom performed the following spoken word piece. It speaks beautifully of being loved, and so I offer it to you know as a source of immense joy.

He speaks. 
He speaks so powerfully life itself is created in a breath. 
He sighs, 
And like chemistry, stars are breathed into being as he gathers dust in the palm of his hands, 
And before you were anyone’s good idea or twinkle in the eye, 
You were alive in Him. 
You were named, known, crafted, your soul was designed, 
And you were shaped to be loved, to live pruned back and set free 
From day one you were doted upon into eternity, 
The whisper of his Spirit to you, the whisper on the breeze speaks, “You are beloved, be loved.” 
We are full. So full of his promise and presence and power 
It’s like we are clay jars, a simple vessel, 
But like a vase full of flowers we stand tall, 
We blossom in our fruitfulness, 
So grateful in the Son’s light for his unwavering faithfulness, 
Satisfied like fresh water to a thirsty soul, 
Nourished by your word, your truth, you’ll never let us go, 
And so we grow, through harsh seasons and new mornings, 
Through late night tears and laughters dawning, 
In the look-me-in-the-eye passion that our Father made us for, 
Like an anchor in our souls, holding firm and secure, 
That allows us to walk brave and free, vulnerable and bold, 
Whilst all the while the whisper echoes from those days of old “You are beloved, be loved.” 
Kissed by fire,
The heavens break open and his presence descends 
And we breathe, for glory and in grace we are drenched, renewed, changed 
He is mercy and justice, he is fierceness and kindness, 
He instills in us a bigger heart, a wider stretch for welcome arms, 
And in him we are home and make home, finding peace where we are, 
Yet we call in one more to find hope in the dark, 
Giving away the gift of belonging, 
Knowing family is an open invite to the upside-down kingdom 
And we won’t quit, we won’t build walls, we won’t close down or grip tight, 
We pray keep this heart soft and strong, help me shine out your light 
So like neon signs in clouded skies the call of God will shine “You are beloved, be loved.” 
“You are beloved, be loved.” 
(writtten by Miriam Swaffield for Kate Wharton’s beLOVED ceremony – taken from Kate’s blog)



Relating to God moment by moment

Posted: March 12, 2018 by leighannegreenwood in Uncategorized

Last night we were joined by theologian and philosopher Thomas Jay Oord, who talked about his understanding of the way in which God relates to us in each moment. I could not hope to capture our discussion with perfect accuracy, but I do want to share some of my own reflections on it, and invite you to add yours.


Thomas’ basic proposal was that we live one moment at a time, and that God acts before each moment to present us with a range of options, calling us to choose from among the best of them. In this way he beckons us towards love and compassion and maturity, not by coercing or controlling us, or by requiring that we walk a tightrope with only one good and certain way forward, but by respecting our capacity to make good choices and our freedom to make bad ones.

There was some concern in the room about the idea that God presents all the options, including the bad ones. Thomas answered this by arguing that because God allows his creation to live freely, it is in his nature to present all possible options while seeking to guide us towards the best ones. Perhaps it would be more comfortable to say that God allows all options to be presented to us, although that does change God’s role in the scheme somewhat. I think what is most important is that God allows us genuine freedom, and so that has to include the possibility of making bad choices.


What Thomas was presenting is a form of open theism, which holds among other things that God acts within time and experiences time as we do, so that he can engage with and respond to us in authentic and meaningful ways. This is something I have been interested in for a while, as it was significant to my undergraduate dissertation, and it is a way of thinking that makes utter sense to me as it seems consistent with how I experience God.

I realise that it may seem strange to say that God learns as we act, as it goes against traditional understandings of God’s nature, but the Bible is full of stories in which God changes his mind in response to human activity, and petitionary prayer makes very little sense if what we do has no effect on God at all. Of course the Bible also speaks of God as eternal and unchanging, but those passages tend to be poetic rather than rooted in divine encounter, and it is without doubt that prayer can be significant without petition, but Jesus really seemed to speak as if our prayers were effectual. I wholeheartedly believe that God is in active and loving relationship with the world, and if that contradicts traditional theism, then it is the latter which must go.




What really struck me about what Thomas shared, which seems so obvious but which I hadn’t given much thought to before, was the idea that the options that are available to us, and even the options that we realise are available to us, are determined by a multitude of different factors. Our relationship to God, our relationships with others, our upbringing, our education, our physical and mental health, our previous choices…the list could go on.

What that means is that the best option available to me when I was five will not be the same as the best option available to me know that I am nearly thirty. And the best option available to someone who lives a comfortable life will not be the same as the best option available to someone whose thoughts are dominated by worrying about where their next meal is coming from. And the best option available to someone who has spent years learning to hear the voice of God will not be the same as the best option available to someone who has never heard of Jesus. That is not to say that the young and the poor and the atheist cannot make good or even godly choices, but that they may not be the choices that the old and the rich and the religious think they should be making. God relates to each one of us as individuals, and so we must show everyone that same respect, calling them to make their best decisions instead of imposing on them what we think are our best decisions.


Thomas also reflected a little on the command to “be perfect as your Father is perfect”, and suggested that as impossible as that sounds, we can be perfect a moment at a time. Every time we choose from among our best options, which for Thomas means choosing to be loving, we are perfect as God is perfect. That doesn’t mean that we were perfect the moment before or that we will be perfect the moment after, but that in each moment we are given a fresh chance at perfection.

This led to some discussion around the word perfect. The Christian tradition has tended to understand perfection according to classical Greek ideals, and so we have come to think that divine perfection means to be all things without flaw or error, and have therefore fallen into thinking that this kind of perfection is impossible for us. However, the word we translate as perfect in Matthew 5:48 derives from the Greek teleos, which actually carries ideas of completion and purpose. If we define God’s perfection as his complete purpose, and if we see that as being loving and creative and just and compassionate, then suddenly his perfection is attainable for us.


We also had some conversation around the extent to which it was helpful to have such a framework in mind. Many of the decisions we make are on autopilot, and that is not necessarily a bad thing, especially as we develop a more Christlike character, and find ourselves drawn instinctively to the better options. And yet it would be so easy to fall into a rut of good enough decisions, and lose the insight and the creativity that enable us to recognise the best choices.

I think it is good for us to keep asking what our best option is, to open ourselves up to challenge and surprise, to look to do more than just good enough. It may sound exhausting, but I believe that God calls us into love and compassion because he wants those things for us as much as for anyone else, and so I trust that sometimes the best option for us will be rest or the best option for someone else will be to look after us. This isn’t about wearing us all out with holiness, but about creating more Christlike people in a more Christlike world.

Art of Lent – Peace

Posted: March 11, 2018 by leighannegreenwood in Uncategorized

This Lent I am using Sister Wendy Beckett’s ‘The Art of Lent’ as my daily devotional. Each day offers a work of art and a short thought. Each Sunday I will share what has struck me most during the week.


I have to admit that I wasn’t particularly struck by any of the artwork this week, but I did like what Sister Wendy said about the need for balance in order to find peace, which she compared to the way Piet Mondrian balanced simple lines and blocks of colours in Composition in Red, Yellow and Blue.


She talked specifically about the balance of desire and potential, not wanting too much or stretching too far, but we might also talk about the balance between activity and  rest, or between company and solitude, or between work and pleasure. Perhaps the trickiest thing is realising that the balance will constantly change, so that we must always be self-aware and willing to reassess and make adjustments.


Art of Lent – Contemplation

Posted: March 4, 2018 by leighannegreenwood in Uncategorized

This Lent I am using Sister Wendy Beckett’s ‘The Art of Lent’ as my daily devotional. Each day offers a work of art and a short thought. Each Sunday I will share what has struck me most during the week.


My favourite painting from this week was Robert Natkin’s Epiphany. It would seem contrary to Sister Wendy’s reflection to add too many words to it, so I’m just going to give you the painting and a short quote from the accompanying text.


“We are not meant to understand Natkin’s picture, any more than we are meant to intellectualise during our periods of contemplation. We become still and enter into silence to let the holiness of mystery take posession of us. We do this not in the absence of thought, but beneath thought.”


Ignatian Spirituality – Prayer

Posted: February 27, 2018 by leighannegreenwood in Uncategorized

On Sunday night, we spent our time together in prayer and worship, as an offering to God and a gift to ourselves, and I laid out a number of prayer stations based on Ignatian practices. These forms of prayer were the aspects of Ignatian spirituality I most wanted to share but least wanted to teach, as they can only be learnt and appreciated through engaging with them, so here I will once again offer them quite simply.

Sunday was a beautiful coming together of charismatic and contemplative styles, but these styles of prayer are often practiced individually and in a place of quiet calm. It may be that music and community help bring you into a place of encounter, but you may also like to try making time for silence and stillness.




Thinking About Prayer

This first bit isn’t actually an Ignatian practice, but a way into thinking about prayer. On Sunday, the first station featured some thoughts about what it is to pray, and a few of us decorated and annotated them, as you can see above. Rather than simply posting the quotes into the blog, I will share them here, so that you can decorate them for yourselves if you find that to the a helpful meditative practice. Whether you colour them or simply contemplate them, I invite you to reflect on the ideas and on your own understanding of prayer.

First Method

This is a form of confession, as a preparation for further prayer. It takes the form of a contemplation of the Ten Commandments (although I think you could also use the double love commandment) in which you ask when you have failed to keep God’s commands and seek forgiveness. In case that sounds a little too Catholic, I do believe that this kind of practice is important. It’s not about drowning ourselves in guilt but opening ourselves to grace. One way of making this process a little more active and visual is to drop a vitamin tablet into a bowl of water, and seeing the tablet melting into the water as an image of all you have confessed melting into God’s love.


This is a way of reviewing the day in attitude of prayer. There are many variations on a theme, but the essence is to consciously place yourself in God’s presence and look back over the day, asking the Spirit to guide your thoughts to those moments it is most important for you to remember, then respond to those memories with thanksgiving or apology or promise or whatever else seems most appropriate.  It can help us to discover what our Ignatian guide James Martin calls our beautiful yesterdays, and if we make it a regular practice, it can develop habits of listening to the voice of God and being alert to the presence of God. Here is a five minute guided examen, which is a great way to get started.

Lectio Divina

This is a way of reading scripture in a spirit of discernment, holding the text lightly and with an openness to what God may want to say through it. Here is a general guide to using lectio divina and some guided readings of particular passages. I have always been taught the final step as contemplation, which is what you will see in the guides, but Martin talks instead of action. As a Jesuit who speaks of being a contemplative in action, it is perhaps natural that the two should go together for him, and I encourage you to think on what your contemplation may lead you to do.

Imaginative Contemplation

This is a way of imagining yourself into a story from scripture, to learn through the senses and emotions as well as the intellect. You may remember that it was imagining himself as a great hero of the faith that inspired Ignatius on his sick bed, and so this kind of imaginative practice was really important for him. I have posted written contemplations on the blog before, and you can find them here, here and here. There’s no need to use them though. Simply read a gospel story, create the scene in your head by thinking about what you would see and hear and smell if you where there, then let the events unfold in your imagination, paying attention to how you would react, and finally take time to approach Jesus and talk with him.



If you want to find out more about Ignatian practices, this website is a great resource. And Pray as You Go and Sacred Space both offer short daily online meditations, which can be a great way to develop a rhythm of contemplative prayer.



Art of Lent – Silence

Posted: February 25, 2018 by leighannegreenwood in Uncategorized

This Lent I am using Sister Wendy Beckett’s ‘The Art of Lent’ as my daily devotional. Each day offers a work of art and a short thought. Each Sunday I will share what has struck me most during the week.


The images that struck me most this week were a couple of abstract paintings, Rebecca Salter’s Untitled H30 and Yuko Shiraishi’s Three Greys. I couldn’t find either of them online, but if you google the artists you will find similar work. They are both composed of different shades of grey, and it would be easy to walk past them as dull and interesting if you saw them hanging in a gallery, but if you really pay attention, they draw you in to discover their subtleties, until you could find yourself quite lost in them. In that sense they are quite pefect visualisations of silence.

However, the reflection that struck me most was inspired by Pieter Bruegel the Elder’s The Tower of Babel, which is of course based on the story from Genesis 10, in which God confuses the language of the people of the earth, leading to a cacophony of noise which is the very antithesis of silence.


Sister Wendy says that “what silence primarily armours us against is Babel, the endless foolish chatter, words used to confound thought, words misused to ward off friendship or attachments, words as occupation”. I like the idea that silence does not just bless us while we rest in it, but strengthens us against the loundness and brashness and busyness of the world we must enter into everyday. It reminds me of the absolute necessity of nourishing and sustaining myself with silence.


Art of Lent – Preparation

Posted: February 25, 2018 by leighannegreenwood in Uncategorized

This Lent I am using Sister Wendy Beckett’s ‘The Art of Lent’ as my daily devotional. Each day offers a work of art and a short thought. Each Sunday I will share what has struck me most during the week.

***I originally managed to create this as a page rather than a blog entry, hence it being reposted on the blog a week late***


These first few days having really been about preparation, with a weekly theme beginning on each Sunday of Lent. The first theme is silence, but we will get to that next Sunday, at the end of the week.

The reflection that struck me most came right at the start, on Ash Wednesday, accompanying Katsushika Hokusai’s painting ‘The Great Wave’.


Sister Wendy spoke of the wave as an image of the unpredictability and uncontrollability of life. “Risk is a human constant; it has to be accepted – and laid aside. What we can do, we do. Beyond that, we endure, our endurance framed by a sense of what matters most.”

It sounds fatalistic, but it is also liberating. We can only do as much as we can, so there is no point in worrying about what we can’t. Preparation can be as much about acceptance as action. If we cannot ride the wave, we must simply hold our breath and wait for it to pass.