Hope

Today, I went to Meeting.*

This is significant for several reasons. The first of which is that I am home again for a bit. The second of which is that I was one of the last people to leave the building because I spent the better part of an hour catching up with all number of lovely people who I haven’t seen or spoken to in far too long. The third of which is that big happenings have been going in the British Quakers this week (as briefly elucidated by the news article here), and as has been said by nearly every Quaker I have come across in the past three days, I am proud to belong to a religious organisation which promotes such values and principles. I only wish wish wish that I could have made it to Britain Yearly Meeting in York to have been there, as many of my friends were, in the week long series of Meetings which led to that decision.

But the fourth reason, that has left me the most glowing and contented, is that for the first time in a long while, months and months, I really got something out of going. I guess it’s going to be the same with any type of religious worship, any activity even. You go through phases of enjoyment and involvement but those are often inevitably followed by down-times where you don’t have time, can’t be bothered, and just maybe don’t get as much out of it as you used to. That’s how I’ve been with Quakerism recently.

It’s been more than that, of course. The thing is with Quakerism is that there’s no safety net of a fixed structure, no safety net of a fixed creed or doctrine even, because that’s not what it’s about. At times I wish that I did have a strong, traditional belief in Jesus and God and heaven because when times are tough, it must be a very comforting thought that through that belief, things will be all right in the end no matter what. I don’t have that. It might be nice sometimes to turn up on a Sunday, a bit stressed and hassled maybe, and to be led through the familiar and comforting routine of hymn – sermon – hymn – reading – Eucharist – hymn, or however it goes in Churches without really having to engage every time. In Quaker Meetings you have to think for yourself. Of course that’s essentially one of the reasons why I like it, but it does leave you somewhat at the mercy of your brain – and it doesn’t take a genius to work out that that has presented significant problems for me in the past year. More recently and whilst being more stable, I’ve simply found myself spiritually cold and have found it very hard to ‘connect’ to Meetings.

But today was good. My thoughts wandered a bit, inevitably I got a bit distracted by the rather lively toddler during the first ten minutes, and it did help that there was quite a bit of ministry. And yet I came out feeling a lot fresher, as it were, than I have in a long while. It feels hopeful :-)

x

*Sorry, Flix! It just felt appropriate!

Dear God

, if you’re out there at all. Or indeed in here, I’m not fussy, honestly, I’m not.

1. Please make my hip stop hurting constantly. You have no idea how painful it is, and if you could rid me for good of this stupid back problem at the same time that’d be awesome.
2. Any chance of some sun?
3. Or some proper emotion? This constant dull nothingness is getting kinda tedious, and it’d be nice to be able to interact properly with my housemates before we have to move out this summer.
4. Do you really have to keep allowing all these bad things happening to people I care about?
5. You’re omniscient, right… so you can explain Maths to me! Nothing more annoying than a smart-arse who sits there being smug and refusing to divulge, though I realise that I’ve probably been guilty of that myself on occasion before. I’m sorry. But I’m really really stuck at the minute, so pretty please? Just some clues.

Yours sincerely, Amen, and PleaseThankYou,

Lucy

Advent Advances…

Tempus fugit, time flies, tick-tock…

Not something I want to think about really, but in anticipation of Monday being 1st December I bought myself an advent calendar whilst in town today. This was perverse from several points of view, the obvious being that I have spent quite a lot of time over the past couple of years or so pronouncing my lack of Christian faith (in my head if not out loud). I also insisted upon buying a non-chocolate one despite the fact that they are really hard to find, it cost considerably more to do so (for the expensive luxury of having air behind the cardboard, presumably), and my chocolate consumption is such that an thin angel-shape more every day really wouldn’t make that much of a proportional difference.

But it was the principle of the thing, and the nostalgia, I guess, and I’m sure that the counsellor will tell me that it’s all to do with clinging on to my childhood. For a really authentic experience I should only open every third door, but there’s no-one to squabble with about who gets 3 so it loses the point somewhat…

Little things, eh?!

Evensong

I will have sung Evensong three times this term once the next fortnight is out. Two weeks into term brought Jazz Evensong in St Oswalds, a local CofE church, and I will be singing traditional Evensong in the cathedral on the coming two Mondays – tomorrow with Choral Society, and in eight days’ time with Trevs (college) choir. All of them will be/ have been special in their own way, but it’s tomorrow’s service that I’m particularly looking forward to. It’s going to be very, very beautiful*.

I do not consider myself a Christian. I do not appreciate badly played, wheezing organs, most hymns are pitched way too high for us altos, and music does not play a large part in my religious life, that is to say, any part at all. In theory I love the idea of attending a musical Church service regularly – but the theology gets in the way, because I find that I don’t believe a lot of the words I’m singing: “The foolish body hath said in his heart, There is no God. Corrupt are they, and abominable in their wickedness: there is none that doeth good…” ?

Even in choir-led services, I do draw the line at saying the creed. I do not believe in the resurrection of Christ, in the Holy Catholic Church, and I am not prepared to say those words without a certain level of integrity. Sorry.

But this is the thing – I love, love, love the music. What draws me in is the magic of the chords and the cadences, the shifting harmony and weaving polyphony of the Responses. The rigid structure that allows for such expression in the Psalms. The echoing of voices in a stone acoustic and the sense of being part of a centuries old tradition. The focus on sound and four part ensemble and phrasing. The familiarity of the oft-set words. The purity of plainsong. The Bach, and the Montiverdi, and the Rachmaninov, and the Tavernor. And yes, despite everything, the overwhelming spirituality of it all.

Sometimes I’m very grateful that I sing.

x

*Starting at 5:15pm, all welcome! :not-so-subtle plug for those in Durham