S p i r i t u a l i t y o n t h e W a y
There is a strong movement in society these days - a desire for deeper meaning. It may not be in terms of traditional church involvement, more a searching for 'something else' in life....a search for a 'spiritual dimension'. Other groups are addressing this as well as Journeying and there are writings in the popular press and in the media. This page and those linked to it show current concerns and activity; they are relevant to what we in Journeying do for we are all on a similar pathway towards the 'other'. To link them together can only be of value. We will add items to this page from time to time as they come to our notice.
07.01.10A reflection on journeying : Advent 2009
by Julie Clawson
"The other day my four year old daughter told me she wanted to go on a journey. I told her that we would be going to New Mexico for Christmas and asked if that would count. She said, no, that was just a trip, not a journey. Journeys involve going on a quest to find something important and discovering stuff about yourself along the way. So she wanted to find a journey to go on. I explained to her that often the journeys she’s thinking of are often thrust upon people by strange twists of coincidence or fate. Dorothy gets carried in a whirlwind to Oz; Alice falls through the looking glass; Lucy steps through the wardrobe.
And a suspiciously pregnant Mary is forced by the government to journey while heavy with child to the town of Bethlehem.
This week’s Advent theme is that of journeying. Of making our way through life with awareness. Anyone can get along and move ahead. We can go on trips and reach destinations, but it takes awareness to give it meaning. To journey through life requires a commitment to seek after something and to be open to have ourselves changed along the way. We can be scared and unsure of exactly where we are going, but we accept and commit to it nonetheless.
Mary committed to the journey she was thrust into. Despite the ridicule and judgment of those who could count the months between the wedding and due date which is likely the reason there were no rooms for them in Bethlehem, Mary journeyed anyway. Even as the hardship of the journey brought on the pains of labor, she accepted her path. Even as strange visitors praised her son and fear forced them to flee the country, Mary treasured the moments and journeyed on. Bethlehem was just the first stop along a journey that led her eventually to see her son crucified on the cross and the Spirit descend in wind and flame at Pentecost. She was committed to the journey she had accepted no matter the pain it caused her as it unfolded. It is believed that a good deal of our gospel accounts come from Mary telling the story of her journey. This wasn’t someone who proceeded through life unaware. She treasured her experiences in her heart – understanding the significance of the path she was on.
I wish I was more like Mary. Or like my daughter asking to go on a journey. I want to see, truly see, the world around me. I want to seek something truly significant and be willing to let myself be shaped into an instrument of the good along the way. I appreciate this reminder in the Carmelite Advent tradition that Incarnation isn’t just about God coming to us, but also about us choosing to seek and journey after God as well. We choose to follow and to do so with open eyes – building awareness of the ways we can better serve. We choose to journey together"
(source - www.julieclawson.com)
26.3.10
The Bank Manager in white
by Paul Heppleston
The bank manager’s voice was strong, echoing upwards in the Great Space between the soaring pillars of pale stone. “Amen!” he chanted, with strength and power in a voice almost operatic in tone and quality.
Well he looked like the archetypal bank manager - tall, upright, balding, glasses, about 60 years old. But he didn’t work in a bank for the directors or the board of some large financial institution. He worked for God in a monastery, in company with two dozen others - as a monk.
I sat listening to his voice (“Lord have mercy” - strong and secure). And, allowing my gaze to wander upwards into the roof among the wonderful stonework of this monastery, I didn’t just see with my eye – or even my mind’s eye : I actually felt that this place had Strength, Stillness, Serenity, Stability and Security.
The monks were gathered in their white habits (the White monks of the Cistercians) around the altar at Morning Mass. My ‘bank manager’ was a ‘priest’, rather than a ‘brother’ – in other words he had been ordained, as had about half the community. They formed a circle of white and red, the plain stone altar at their centre a reminder of the table on which Aslan died.
But Aslan didn’t die; and neither did Jesus. He lives on in the lives of these monks who dedicate themselves and their time with a level of commitment that far outshines most of what us visitors could attain. Indeed one of the fathers entered this monastery in Charnwood Forest (Leicestershire) at age 19; he is still there aged 74.
Their rhythm, the cycles of their days and years is unending and consistent, their dedication total and absolute demanding a strength and conviction that comes from being secure in themselves. That is not to say that monks would never have doubts about their vocation or even their faith; all followers of Christ experience these dark nights of the soul from time to time. But far from opting-out from society, their work is a true opt-in to that most demanding work – prayer. Monasteries also have another role, that of hospitality, one they have exercised down the centuries, reaching far back to the early Celtic communities.
Indeed the work of these modern monasteries, like the one in who’s abbey church I now write, has in common with Celtic spirituality the ministry of hospitality – an opening of the doors to travellers and those who seek rest and refuge. In our own lives we too can open the doors of a listening ear, the healing touch of hand and heart, the gathering round a meal table. So in this way those of us who venture on Journeys echo not simply the early Celtic saints, but also the white-garbed modern ’saints’ who hold out their hands in blessing upon the bread and wine at Mass, who hold out their hands in greeting at the doorway to guests – and who hold in their lives the Strength of the building not made with hands. These are facets we can all touch and hold and offer to others.
The Mass was ending; from the quiet voice of the celebrant rose in pitch as he reached the end of the final prayer. And as if the strength of the stones gave an under-girding to the assembled monks they all cried out in loud triumph and conviction “Amen!”. It was an almost spine-tingling climax to the service and one was left standing in awe……...in awe at the grandeur of God, proclaimed in so many ways – in song, in silence, in each other and in all Creation.
I left the church and walked back to my room. Where else (I thought) could I have experienced such depth of spirituality combined with a ‘real-ness’ of Christian faith, offered on behalf of the whole of humanity. What word could describe my feelings -- humble? awed? enriched? inspired? Then I knew : all those qualities that were touching me at that very moment, but above all were the two words enfolded and strengthened. And that was just what I needed for the days and weeks to come.
Thank you Mr Bank Manager.
20.04.10
A Way to God
[a quote from a leaflet found at a very old Quaker Meeting House in North Yorkshire]
'We seek to experience God directly, within ourselves and in
our relationships with others and the world around us'.
Here is yet another example of a universal truth, found within Celtic spirituality (to which we hold fast in Journeying) and which is present within the Ignatian tradition too.....'God in all things'.