JM 2018 April
Article
[unstated]
A Garden Retreat
Arriving in good time for my retreat, I settled in and then I walked up to their walled garden. I was alone there. As I explored it I was consciously trying to slow my pace, to leave the busyness of the world and the speed of travelling behind me. I took long, slow breaths, which brought with them the scent of roses; stopped to gaze at a single flower, or the bee working his way over them; slowly walked the labyrinth at the heart of the garden. Gradually peace filled me.
Later, I thought how the walled garden was itself an image of retreat. It was a place enclosed and set apart from the rest of the grounds, as a retreat is a time set apart to be with God (and as a Julian Meeting is also such a ‘set apart’ time). Just as a retreat has times and spaces for worship, prayer, reflection, refreshment, activity and quiet, so the garden had separate spaces for different activities.
As I entered there was a grid of paths and varied flower beds, which encouraged both exploration and reflection; movement and stillness. Beyond these to the north was a high hedge, while to the east the garden opened out to its full width, giving a sense of space which was extended by the trees glimpsed beyond the far wall. Most of this area was grass: just a bed of grasses and a rockery on one side, and the labyrinth next to them, with a pergola of roses enclosing a seat at its centre. It was as though the heart of the labyrinth was at the heart of the garden, just as God is at the heart of a retreat or a Julian Meeting.
The high hedge enclosed a quarter of the garden, with just a narrow entrance, making it feel very enclosed, almost secret. Here were trees and dense planting, with a path wandering through them to a summerhouse at the far end. An intimate space, which seemed to encourage intimacy with God. A very quiet space, in which to listen, to wait on God in the silence as we do in a Julian Meeting.
I felt privileged to have been on retreat at a house with such a garden.
Quotation
[anon]
If you always do what you always do, you’ll always get what you always got.
Quotation
Somerset Maugham
As the sun was setting I wandered into the Mosque. I was quite alone. As I looked from one end along the chambers into which it is divided I had an eerie, mysterious sense of its emptiness and silence. I was a trifle scared. I can only put what I felt into words that made no sense. I seemed to hear the noiseless footfall of the infinite.
Quotation
[unstated]
A Muslim child, at a Christian church school, asked his teacher: ’Why is bread so important in your religion?’
Article
Sheila Upjohn
How Julian’s influence has grown – part 2
The Julian Meetings began in 1973, soon after Julian’s 600th anniversary on 8 May. The following year Michael McLean, who had been on the committee to plan that celebration, became Rector of St Julian’s. In 1976 Michael invited Robert Llewelyn to be a praying presence in Julian’s cell.
Both men recognised the need for a small book to introduce people to Julian’s writing, and Robert compiled a book of daily readings. On 8 May 1980 ‘Enfolded In Love’ was published. Since then it has sold over 150,000 copies worldwide and has been translated into six languages. Robert went on to write nine other books, including ‘With Pity not with Blame’, ‘A Doorway to Silence’, and ‘Love Bade Me Welcome’. He also edited ‘Circles of Silence’ and the Enfolded In Love series of daily readings from other spiritual writers.
Pilgrims and the Friends
By then, thanks partly to ‘Enfolded In Love’, a growing number of pilgrims were making their way to St Julian’s. In May 1984 Michael McLean founded The Friends of St Julian Norwich, which later became the Friends of Julian of Norwich. Their membership card reads: ‘I have undertaken to further interest in Lady Julian’s writings in whatever way I can; to pray regularly for the work of the Shrine and Julian Centre; to contribute £…. annually to support this work.’ In a former vestry we set up a small library, open for a few hours a week, and put copies of ‘Enfolded in Love’ for sale at the back of the church.
As the number of pilgrims continued to grow, the Friends looked for more ways to welcome them. In 1988 the Community of All Hallows leased their hall beside the church to the Friends. The rent is a hazelnut a year, paid every 8 May. The Julian Centre has a bookshop of spiritual writings, and a library which aims to have every book written about Julian – a growing challenge as books proliferate. At one time royalties from ‘Enfolded In Love’ made it possible to have paid staff, but now it is kept open by volunteers six days a week – again, something of a challenge.
In 1990 Robert Llewelyn, aged 81, retired as chaplain to the shrine after fourteen years. But retirement meant only that he spent less time in the cell. Visitors from all over the world went on calling, and his ministry continued until his death in 2008 aged 98.
In 2001 Norwich celebrated the 900th anniversary of the Dedication of the Cathedral in 1101. To mark the occasion the Dean and Chapter commissioned statues to stand in two empty niches on the west front. One is Saint Benedict, in honour of the cathedral’s Benedictine foundation. The other is Julian of Norwich. Julian is clasping her book and is now one of the first sights to greet visitors as they approach the cathedral. The statue was dedicated in September 2001.
In May 2013 Constantine Osuchukwu, a Nigerian priest from Ballarat in Australia, was visiting Norwich en route to Walsingham. He joined a Norwich Tour, which unexpectedly led him to St Julian’s. Back in Australia he invited me to give a retreat in 2014. This led to another at which I first heard Malcolm Guite’s Julian sonnet, published in 2013. When I learnt he was to give the Julian Lecture in 2015 I knew I must come back from Australia to hear him.
Modern media
At the weeklong Julian Festival in May 2015 I was asked to give a short lunchtime talk. I decided to tell the story of how Julian’s book was kept secret for centuries: copied out in secret by contemplative Sisters, and condemned by both Anglicans and Roman Catholics whenever it made one of its brief early appearances. In the audience was Sally-Anne Lomas, a television director. She had become a Christian after visiting Julian’s cell and reading her book, and realised the story was the material for a documentary.
In July 2016 the documentary The search for the lost manuscript: Julian of Norwich was shown on BBC 4. Nearly 200,000 people watched. As with the early appearances of Julian’s book, it had a mixed reception. The Tablet savaged it under the headline ‘Trivial Pursuit’. Other people responded enthusiastically, particularly young people. Sally-Anne wrote: ‘My aim was to interest people in Julian – to point them towards her. From that point I know she can point them to God, and the experts can explain all the complexities and subtleties of her thinking. I thought if fifty people went out and bought a copy of ‘Revelations of Divine Love’ then the programme had succeeded.’
Next day Waterstones in Norwich sold out of Julian’s book. The Julian Centre’s first visitors were two students who had made the 120 mile journey from London. Since then there has been a constant stream of pilgrims asking questions and buying books. Julian was trending on Twitter the night the documentary was broadcast. Over the years the promise ‘to further interest in Lady Julian’s writings in whatever way I can’ has produced a rich harvest in books, plays, talks, music, paintings – and now television and the internet.
Complementary
When I look back at the beginning of the Julian Meetings and the Julian Friends I realise how complementary they are – a kind of Mary and Martha.
One encouraging contemplative prayer.
The other encouraging action springing from prayer.
The Julian Meetings have no physical headquarters.
The Julian Friends are rooted to the very spot. Both reach out in prayer all over the world.
In a play I wrote about Julian, one of the early scribes who copied out her book remarks: ‘Writing a book is a way to reach people in countries you’ll never visit, and centuries you’ll never see.’
From Australia, in the twenty-first century – Greetings.
Prayer
Elizabeth Mills
Just because we cannot see You
Just because we cannot see You
Does not mean You are not there
You breathe Life into our midst
Just as the breath of the wind
Changes and moves what it touches
So with Your Life
So with Your Love
This day and every day
Amen
Poem
DM
Joy
Joy is God’s gift
not to be earned
not to be learned.
A lift of the spirit
the heart
the mind
parting the world
from daily grind.
Joy transforms our routine space
into a wonderland
riven by God’s grace.
Joy does not,
may not,
should not last.
It may come slow or fast:
a sudden overwhelming sense
of otherness, of presence.
Or it may be
a slowly growing, glowing light
illuming all with His delight
Come fast or slow
transcendent glow
is transient,
and fades away.
From heights of joy
we must to earth fall back,
nor seek to hold
that glimpse of gold,
but in our hearts enfold
the uprush of delight
that bore us to the height.
Let it suffuse the whole,
then ebb away
as light at end of day.
Joy, like a rainbow,
Is a fleeting thing,
unlooked for,
unexpected,
from your King.
Poem
Brian Morris
April Fool
‘April fool’ said Jesus
as he came out from the tomb.
‘You thought me dead and buried;
my disciples sunk in gloom.
But I have played a different game,
deeper than you could know;
a game you win by losing,
prize you grasp by letting go.
You fought with fear, lest you should lose
your power and place to Rome.
I fought with love, and peace and trust;
my Father brought me home.
And still your fears enslave you;
your minds can find no rest.
My followers have hope and joy;
they know that they are blest.
You won the day; but now my victory
is over time and all eternity.’
Article
Joanna
How Smart?
Last weekend, in the snow, my daughter and her partner climbed the highest mountain in Southern Britain. Among other things she’s a graphic designer, so her smart phone often captures images that become starting points for creative projects. This time however, it was not to be – it was so cold at the summit, her phone became unresponsive.
Back home and thawed out by the fire, her phone came back to life and she told me all about her trek, even if there were no pictures!
It got me thinking – do ‘chilly’ life experiences sometimes cause us to shut down? And in a frozen state do we miss moments of grace?
Truth is, I’ve received a letter this week that sent an icy shiver down my spine. It outlined a recommendation for pre-emptive surgery. Initially I felt shocked and fearful, but keeping close to God in my thoughts, I can now read blessings between the lines. It could prevent the development of cancer.
Reflecting on this, it seems that the important thing is to keep close to God. The picture that comes to mind is of placing myself in God’s ‘inner pocket’, close to the heart and where there is space for all of us. There it is warm, and there is good reception.
It strikes me that there are parallels between us being in God’s inner pocket, and smart phones being in our inner pockets. Smart phones aren’t really that smart, when it comes to functioning in the cold! Their lithium batteries drain faster than normal, and screens can crack, especially if there is a flaw in the glass.
Both problems can be eased by keeping them in close proximity to us.
I believe that freezing and cracking is a fairly accurate picture of what happens to us, when we keep ourselves at arm’s breadth from God.
In contrast, if we keep close to God’s heart, and absorb the warmth of God’s love and enabling, we will function much better when ‘cold winds’ rip through our lives, or ‘snow’ changes our familiar landmarks.
Safe and close to God, our provider will not let us down. Now that’s smart!
Truth is… God’s peace, which is far beyond human understanding, will keep your hearts and minds safe in union with Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:7
Poem
Elizabeth
Silence envelops us
Silence envelops us
Slowly
Descending upon us
So gently
Enfolds us
In its Knowing
We came as individuals
Now gathered in Love
Held in Light
And sustained
By the Ever Present Life
And All Encompassing
Breath Of God.
Article
Malcolm Guite
Outer Places, Inner Spaces
Just above the steep flight of the ‘town steps’ in Aldeburgh, there is a little bench, set to one side, sheltered over and nestled into the green bank of the hill. There you can sit, snug from the wind, resting from the effort of climbing the steps, and gaze across the little town’s glorious roofscape, and out past the timbered Moot-house and those dark huts where the daily catch is smoked and sold, out to the sea itself.
The roofs are a pleasing assortment of shapes and sizes: little cottages, substantial town houses, and odd buildings in corners and gaps, almost all tiled in old red clay tiles which have weathered into as many fine gradations of red, mottled yellow, brown and ochre as one might find in the soil itself.
In all their different shapes and sizes, angles and pitches, the roofs slope down to the main street and the seafront itself, where peculiar little watchtowers and turrets with miniature castellations add to the variety. Sitting there, one can imagine, for a moment, all the other varieties of homeliness and human life packed under those roofs; the people coming and going, departing, journeying, and homing again.
And beyond it all, just audible, the surging of the sea on its shingly shore, at once restless and soothing, as it was to Keats when, dying in Rome, he seemed to see
‘The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth’s human shores’.
We only go to Aldeburgh once a year, to stay for a few days in January, an exhausted clergy couple in post-Christmas recovery mode. But I always take the time to sit on that bench, absorb the view, and smoke a meditative pipe.
And I have found that, over the years, by fondness and familiarity, that little nook and its entrancing view have become available to me wherever I am. Trudging some bleak street, drained and laden, or ensconced on the upper deck of a crowded bus, I have a door that opens, unbeknown to my fellow passengers, to a secret otherwhere; I have only to pass through it to find that I am present there; for the place is present in me.
Who can trace that mysterious transposition whereby an outer place becomes an inner one? A spiritual alchemy, a sublimation and transference has happened gradually, yet suddenly the growing soul has found herself another nesting place. So Yeats found, treading ‘the pavements grey’ in London while his whole inner being heard lake water lapping on the isle of Innisfree; and Joyce, blinding in Zurich, could walk down Grafton Street and number all the Dublin doors.
‘When you pray’, Jesus says, ‘go into your room and shut the door, and pray in secret, and your Father, who is in secret, will reward you.’ And one part, at least, of that secret, certainly part of that reward, is that the inside of the inner door is bigger than the outside, as was the door once to a stable.
Article
Ann Moran
My Thirty Day Retreat
This year is the 10th anniversary of my retreat at St Beuno’s, in North Wales, for the 30 day spiritual exercises of St Ignatius. Ever since our Editor suggested I write about this experience I have been procrastinating – I am not sure why. The retreat was profoundly challenging, interesting, healing and life changing but I couldn’t think what to write. Why was this? Reflecting on ‘why’ has been in itself an Ignatian experience. I think that the retreat was so intense and layered it is hard to know what to write.
In 2008 St Beuno’s offered the ‘Spiritual Exercises Institute’. The 30 days of Exercises were preceded by five days of preparation during which we studied and practised various types of prayer. We studied dream discernment and also art, including actual painting. Neither of these were things I would normally have done but they turned out to be very important, especially the dreams. After the exercises there were 3 days of reflection on the experience and a gentle re-entry into the world of talking and busyness. I do commend building in a recovery day or two after any intense retreat like this.
The 30 days are conducted in silence, including meals, except for a daily session with your spiritual director. You are strongly discouraged from contact with the outside world, eg internet, phone calls. Also from stimulating reading such as detective novels. Crafts and activities like jigsaw puzzles, walking and gardening are encouraged. External mail is only delivered to you on the occasional rest day.
Ignatian spirituality is gentle, nurturing, peaceful. kind, healing, compassionate. A very feminine feel to things. But also very down to earth and practical. It is a sensual approach to prayer. God is found and experienced in all created things and in the experience of our senses. On retreat you will be encouraged to draw, paint and make clay sculptures. To delight in the beauty of the natural world.
Ignatian spiritual directors often focus on healing our image of God, which is so often negative. They pay attention to discerning God’s will for our lives, and a regular examination of our lives. They offer many good tools for discernment and these can be studied and used without doing the Exercises.
Doing the Exercises is about the one-to-one guidance from a spiritual director. It has to be experienced – it does not work by reading about it or about the process.
The Exercises passed in a sort of blur. I had no idea what I was doing or what was happening. I came out thinking I had been a complete failure at it all, although there were some important and healing experiences and insights. Only as I write this do I realise that, two years after the retreat, I embarked on a major life change, and how much the experience has informed my life and choices since.
How does Ignatian Spirituality differ from Contemplative Spirituality? Silence is the prime component of both. The Ignatian practices make us reflect in an active way on our life and choices and on Bible texts. It provides many practical tools for living, many of which are now found in mainstream self help guides of all kinds. I use them nearly every day.
Contemplative practice is about letting go of thoughts and becoming more receptive to the still small voice of the Holy Spirit. The ‘nada’ or ‘nothing’ of St John of the Cross, a 16th Century Spanish mystic. Surrender of the self to God in prayer.
I find the contemplative way is my primary calling in prayer and lifestyle, while the Ignatian path is my ‘shadow’ side and developing that has made me a more whole and integrated person. Ignatian tools are an enormous help in daily life.
Do I recommend the Exercises? Absolutely. It is possible to do them in daily life in shorter blocks over a longer period time. St Beuno’s is not the only place. There is no right or wrong way. I believe God will provide the method that is right for you.
http://jesuits.org/spirituality
Meditation
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Meditation on Psalm 62
For God alone my soul waits in silence – Psalm 62.1
O Love, I silence my soul and its thoughts,
empty of all but my desire for you.
For you alone I wait.
All other desires I release.
All my other desires push me around;
you alone give me life.
A steady voice deep within me calls out for you;
I hear it calling.
There is no success or deserving;
no rank or degree of righteousness:
there is only reaching out for you,
and learning to trust.
You are the power of love.
I am your vessel
Article
Gail Ballinger
Contemplation and Dementia
I have observed dementia of various kinds in my extended family and my friends. It seems inevitable that dementia will affect some members of Julian Meetings – they may suffer from it themselves, or they may be caring for someone with dementia – and how might this impact on the group?
Do you have experience of supporting a member of your Julian Meeting who is, or has been, in this position? Each situation is unique, but it might be helpful if Meetings are aware that this may arise, and consider ways in which it could be handled. Please let us know if your Meeting has any experience, advice or suggestions that might be of help.
Some examples are:
- One or two people known to the person with dementia could sit by her, so that she is not confused by sitting with people who are unfamiliar. People with dementia often find it difficult to cope with the unfamiliar.
- A member with dementia may no longer be able to cope with extended periods of silence, or might become confused as to who people are, particularly in a larger Meeting. In these instances might it be possible for two or three members to meet with the affected person for a shorter time of silence at a different time, perhaps at the person’s home, if that were convenient, as it is a familiar setting.
- If a dementia sufferer finds it difficult to be still, could you provide something that would quietly occupy their hands. Not a fidget-spinner! Perhaps a holding cross, or something soft (any suggestions as to what might be suitable?)
- A person caring for a dementia sufferer may find it difficult to ‘let go’ in the silence, and may need the group’s care and support to maintain their spiritual and contemplative life, and that of the person with dementia.
- Practical help, such as lifts to/from Meetings, or sitting in the same place with familiar people by them, may make a lot of difference to their continued attendance.
We need to be sensitive in such situations both to the needs of the Meeting as a whole, and to the individual needs of each member.
I found the following book (extracts overleaf) helpful:
THINKING OF YOU: a resource for the spiritual care of people with dementia
Joanna Collicutt
BRF, 2017, £9.99
Joanna Collicutt is an experienced clinical neuropsychologist who for many years has worked with people living with conditions affecting the brain, including dementia. An Anglican priest and Advisor for Spiritual Care for Older People in Oxford (Anglican) Diocese.
The book first describes the medical, biological and social aspects of dementia. The biological aspects have excellent line drawings which help to explain various forms of dementia. I found it very accessible – e.g. likening changes in retrieval of memories to organising / finding things in an airing cupboard. Joanna conveys the reality of experiencing dementia and how it might feel: she tells of a person being afraid to enter someone’s front door because the doormat looked like a hole in the ground and they feared they might fall into it.
Part two is about the person – what might dementia feel like for them; what is the nature of human identity; how is it possible to have a full spiritual life with dementia. I think therefore I am leads to God thinks, therefore I am. Part three is about spiritual care and being with the person with dementia. The final chapters give practical suggestions about dementia friendly churches, full inclusion, being connected, celebration and play. She also refers to support in residential homes. Might some of this information help Julian Meetings?
website: www.thegiftofyears.org.uk
For good, detailed, reviews and description of contents go to Reviews:
Extracts from ‘Thinking of You’
Page 99
Quote from C R Rogers ‘A Way of Being Human’:
‘When I am closest to my inner intuitive self, when I am somehow in touch with the unknown in me….Then simply my presence is releasing and helpful to the other… Our relation-ship transcends itself and becomes part of something larger. Profound growth and healing are also present.’
Rogers seems to be describing a situation when ‘deep calls to deep’ (Psalm 42:7) – a connection that is made simply by one being fully with the other in silence and stillness, drawing them both into what the Bible describes as ‘ the breadth and length and height and depth’, and the knowledge of ‘the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge’ (Ephesians 3:18-19). It is a kind of wordless prayer.
Page161
So how can people with dementia go on growing in Christ? We have already seen that meditative or silent prayer offers opportunities for spiritual nourishment when language has failed…
Quotation
Alan Ecclestone
The work of Christ consisted in his obedience to, his understanding trust in, the Silence he called Father.
The world in which we live is a world in which God is silent.
But it is filled with the Word of God and it is for us who live by that Word to learn in silence to listen to it.
Book review
Anne Stamper
Sally Welch • Pilgrim Journeys – pilgrimage for walkers and armchair travellers
BRF, £7.99
Sally Welch, Vicar of Charlbury and Area Dean of Chipping Norton, defines pilgrimage as ‘a spiritual journey to a sacred place. For hundreds of years men and women have made these journeys, hoping for healing, revelation or spiritual insight. They go to places where it is felt the gap between heaven and earth is smaller, where the action of saints may break into the lives of ordinary people, transforming them.’
An active pilgrim for over 20 years, in this book she draws on those experiences: of pilgrimages at home and abroad, for distances long and short, travelling with others or by herself. This is not a travel book, however, although at the end she gives readers practical hints and sources of information if they wish to undertake a pilgrimage themselves.
In each section Sally takes one Pilgrim route and describes an episode from her experience of it which leads into a Reflection. In some Reflections she gives the reader, as an arm chair traveller, a practical task (possibly using pencil and paper) that encourages thought about their own path in life and God’s call ‘to be a pilgrim’.
Some of her pilgrim routes are well known, such as the Via Ingles, to Santiago de Compostela or the Pilgrims Way from Winchester to Canterbury. Others were new to me: St James Way, from Worcester to Bristol and The Thames Pilgrims Way, from Oxford to Binsey – one Sally helped to set out.
An excellent synopsis of the book is given by the chapter headings: Be true to your journey; Carry only what is necessary; Be open to God; Rejoice in your companions; Inhabit the moment; Tread lightly upon the earth; Release your burdens; Trust yourself; Respect the community; Rejoice in the journey. They are also not a bad pattern for life!
Book review
Simon Barker
Graham James • A Place for God
Bloomsbury, 2018, £9.99
Graham James, Bishop of Norwich, has followed his 2015 Lent book, which looked at forty people who had inspired him, with ‘A Place for God’ in 2018 in which he considers forty places that inspired him.
The books have a similar format: an initial Bible reference is followed by the author’s description of, and thoughts about, a particular place. Each chapter offers a daily reflection, and ends with a short prayer.
For each place he fuses an engaging combination of auto-biography, history and spirituality. The places, obscure or well known, have in common the part they have played in the author’s life. The finding of God does not, for him, respect the obvious sites any more than the humble and private. Some Norfolk locations reveal fascinating details of church history in his diocese, and how they still affect life today.
I like his gentle self-disclosure and honesty. A book for Lent or any time of year. It is a book to dip into: each chapter is self-contained and a relaxing treat that takes up key themes from the Gospel and offers thoughts to sustain our spirituality without being over-earnest.
His sharing of discovering the divine in landscape and in the buildings is handled confidently. I would keep both books by my bed – apparently and truly for relaxation but with more than that to be found. Not a meditation primer at all, but gently persuasive of the power of place and of reflection.
Book review
Fr Luke Penkett CJN
Julian of Norwich • Revelations of Divine Love (translated by Grace Warrack, modernised by Yolande Clarke)
SPCK, 2017, £9.99
We know little about Grace Harriet Warrack. In 1901, aged 46, she took to London, from Edinburgh, her modernised translation of the Long Text of the ‘Revelations of Divine Love’ (BL MS Sloane 2499). She hoped that Methuen might publish it. Grace had annotated the text, written a lengthy Introduction, provided foot-notes, cross references, and an excellent Glossary.
The translation, designed for general use, adopted modern spelling, and replaced obsolete words with modern ones but retained those of special significance. Updated punctuation made the meaning clearer, as did dividing the continuous lines of 17th century text into paragraphs. The whole text was thus far more accessible, but by mostly keeping the original syntax she preserved the charm of Julian’s writing.
Grace’s modern English translation was published and been reprinted many times: Grace herself saw the ninth edition of her book before she died in 1932.
Henry Collins’ edition of Sloane 2499 had been published in 1877, the first of several publications in which the Middle English text was modernised and so brought to the attention of a more general readership: Roger Hudleston in 1927, Clifton Wolters in 1966, and Elizabeth Spearing in 1998. Two editions, by James Walsh in 1961, and by Lucy del Mastro Park in 1977, collate the Paris and London manuscripts. But it is Grace’s work that has stood the test of time.
With this publication of Grace Warrack’s beautifully written modern English text, sensitively modernised by Yolande Clarke, and with a fine Introduction by A.N. Wilson, Julian’s ‘Revelations of Divine Love’ reaches a new contemporary readership. It is a step of which Julian herself, I feel, would have approved.
Book review
Jennifer Tann
Terry Waite • Out of the Silence: memories, poems, reflections
SPCK, 2016, £11.24
Terry Waite, one-time Special Envoy for then Archbishop of Canterbury, Robert Runcie, was captured in Beirut in January 1987 during the Lebanese Civil War. Held hostage for almost five years he was kept in solitary confinement; denied writing materials or books; chained; beaten; kept blindfolded for long spells; and subjected to a mock execution in the middle of the night. Terry Waite now works for humanitarian organisations for prisoners, the homeless, hostages and their families, and overseas development. He also lectures at various locations, including cruise ships.
In ‘Out of the Silence’ he weaves recollections of that time into a book of poetry and prose. Written 18 years later, in happier times in New Zealand, he says the location might be any where: it is simply the vehicle for an inner journey. In the book Terry Waite weaves different strands of his life into a fabric. He tells how, on his release from captivity, some accused him of being implicated in an arms-dealing scandal, of which he knew nothing. Others claimed that he believed himself invincible with God on his side, when he’d never believed that his faith gave him protection. These accusations do not bother him now but at the time, in his state of utter vulnerability, they hurt deeply.
The book is thematic, each theme with an introductory piece of prose, followed by a poem. One section, headed ‘Moods’, briefly states that one way he survived captivity was by taking an interior journey: ‘I walk the corridor of my mind/ with hesitant steps./ I see a thousand faces/that tell a thousand stories.‘ Some memories, such as those from early childhood, were supportive while others disturbed. One consequence of his long isolation is that Terry Waite both likes and needs silence – even when with his dearly beloved family.
A particularly moving short poem is of Abbe Pierre, a remarkable French priest who founded Emmaus, an organisation to support the poor and destitute, to help them remake their lives. Pierre, a priest who walked the streets, was regularly voted the most popular man in France: ‘No altar chained this man/ No church controlled his life./ He was poor/ with the poor / sad with the sad….He walked the Parisian streets/As Christ walked to Emmaus.’
Visiting a homeless community, Terry Waite could not find words to describe how he felt as he sat on a bench, with a woman sitting near him, head bowed, meticulously packing scraps of food into a plastic package, ‘The beauty of her face/Enhanced by sadness/Carries within it a lifetime of suffering./ A voice from across the table addresses me. ‘She’s blind you know.‘
This is a book to read slowly. Just when it seems rather ordinary, there are sentences of profoundness, words to be savoured, the reader is inspired to slow down in silence.
Book review
Jennifer Tann
David Bryant • Glimpses of Glory
Bloomsbury, 2016, £9.99
David Bryant was a priest and regular contributor to the Church Times and The Guardian. Facing terminal cancer he began this book, which is a celebration of moments when he unexpectedly met God. It is a joyful book. David celebrates encountering God in various places – a high security prison, the bedside of a dying child, in the imagination, reflection on Bible passages. There are 40 brief themed sections ranging from chaos , ladders, names, lust, kindness and holiness to darkness/ light and Resurrection. Nothing is beyond bounds. He considers abortion, prison, guilt, cosmology and much more besides.
At no point is there a hint of self-pity. Firm faith underpins the entire book: a divine thread running throughout the author’s life ‘always unpredictable and often surprising.’
While this was designed and marketed as a Lent book, with a reading for each day, it would be an excellent companion to private meditation at any point in the Christian year. In the Preface, the author says that the book’s content has emerged from his experiences as a parish priest, a hospital chaplain, a one-time Samaritan, secondary school teacher and visitor to a top-security prison. He incorporates poetry and literature, which he calls ‘those blessed gifts that have the potential to awaken us to an awareness of the Holy One.’ He seeks to show how glimpses of God’s glory have shone out in the ‘most harrowing circumstances, as well as in moments of joy and laughter.’
David Bryant does not claim to know the truth. As the years have passed, he has recognised that the path to faith is not a path of certainty ‘but a road leading to unknowing.’ In the brief section on prayer, the author suggests that silence is the most meaningful of all prayers, in that it contains no ‘weak, uncertain human input’. He died shortly after the MSS of this book was submitted to the publisher. A very moving book.