Third reflection on the Lambeth Conference

Third Reflection on the Lambeth Conference.
From Bishop Martin.
Looking and Listening.

I have a hunch that Nelson Mandela might well have approved of a process which, for the Lambeth design group, was to take a central place throughout the conference. That process is known as Indaba. The accent is on the second syllable of the word Indaba. To place the accent on the third syllable, as was pointed out to us, adds a set of images to the Conference, which might be open to misinterpretation! Indaba is a Zulu word, suggesting a gathering for purposeful discussion. For Mandela, such an approach to political development and the managing of conflict were ingrained in his culture. Thabo Makagoba, the Archbishop of Capetown, was responsible for the initiative at the conference:
“Indaba is engagement with each other as we listen to one another concerning challenges that face the community. These challenges are addressed effectively when there is a desire, despite differences and conflict, to foster ongoing communal living.”
Traditionally, the Indaba consists of approximately 30 to 40 people sitting and conversing until resolution and a way forward is established in the face of any threat to the community or some radical change that has to be addressed. The leader of the Indaba is the one who presents the circumstances for conversation and ensures that each member is heard. In my Indaba were two women bishops. The Conference was my first opportunity to meet and get to know women bishops personally. Few though they were, they were outstanding in their demeanour and gentle strength. They had the ability to challenge and speak directly without injury or blame. I hope and pray that the Scottish Episcopal Church does not have to wait for too long for its first woman bishop.

This, of course, is a culturally different method of public discourse that has become the norm in the Northern hemisphere, where adversarial structures are used, as for example in the House of Commons, or for that matter in Synodical procedures in parts of the Anglican Communion, where the word ‘debate’ or ‘discussion’ is used, which often assumes that positions are adopted and that arguments are won or lost.

Of course, I do not wish to suggest that adversarial politics does not provide checks and balances as a process of accountability. However, to win a debate and to have the persuasive argument in discussion does not necessarily bring about willing conjunction of energy let alone resolution. For me, that is where the Indaba has a great deal to offer us.

I had to keep reminding myself that +Rowan, the Archbishop of Canterbury, wanted this Lambeth Conference to have a clear aim: to equip bishops as leaders in God’s Mission and, in doing so, strengthen the Anglican Communion. The Conference was not there primarily to meet the needs of those who wanted debate, discussion and confident decisions. That, of course, was a disappointment to some, including some Bishops themselves who perhaps feel more at home in the exercise of debate. Certain journalists seemed to be hovering around like vultures looking for signs of victory or defeat. They went away, I suspect, shrugging their shoulders or scratching their heads. There were no ‘carcasses’ to feed off and there were no ‘medal ceremonies’. I might add in passing that I am disturbed at the ability of certain news organisations having the increasing ability to force agenda and decisions, which so often spawns attitudes to the media that are defensive at best and secretive at worst. So often a Church press Officer has to become a strategist for defence and an expert in the art of fending-off.
Throughout the Conference, there was at least one session of Indaba a day. In the Indaba in which I was placed, there were bishops from Sudan, Ghana, Gambia and South Africa, North and South India, the Philippines, Canada, the United States, England and, yes, me – Scotland. When the Indaba addressed the issue of poverty, there was a depth of nervousness and sensitivity, not surprisingly, given the massive economic imbalance between the different countries represented. Now I ask you to remember that this is my reflection and is not therefore representative. I can only illustrate the depth of importance in Indaba in an exchange I had with a Bishop from Central Sudan. He had been separated from his wife for over 6 years because of the various conflicts in Sudan. He did not know, during that time, whether she was alive or dead. They are re-united now and both were at the conference – tall, dignified, quiet and direct in their Christian expression. I asked him, in the Indaba, if I would be able to live for just one month the same daily life-style as he does. ‘No’, was his reply without hesitation, ‘Nor am I asking you to, Martin. I am asking you to look and listen to us and you will see that Christ is on the ground with us.’ This image of ‘Christ being on the ground with us’ is perhaps the most important gift I received in the Lambeth Conference. I pursued the matter with him, however. He has a cup of tea in the early morning and one meal a day which occasionally includes protein. ‘Martin you would not survive psychologically, because you would have chosen to live as such.’ Of course, the Sudanese bishop and, by extension, countless others do survive psychologically perhaps because they have to! How can you possibly debate and argue with such an experience?

What struck me when I had time to pray later on that day is the question as to how would a community like Oban, or Sheffield, or Falkirk cope if people went to Tesco’s or Sainsbury’s one Monday morning and found the shelves empty? At least, I am now aware of the first of the Millennium Goals: ‘The eradication of extreme poverty by 2015.’ Maybe it is alarmist to suggest the possibility of empty shelves. However, we do not have, I sense, enough inner strength as a culture to cope with levels of poverty that I looked at and listened to in the Indaba. A thorough examination of my lifestyle seems to me essential if I am going to begin to address my responsibility towards this Millennium Goal. In the Scottish Episcopal Church we talk about the responsibility of all the baptised. Perhaps that responsibility may include a corporate examination of lifestyle….?
There were, inevitably, one or two voices that intervened wondering when we were going to ‘get down to business’ and – yes – discuss the issue of same-sex relationships and make powerful statements to expectant people ‘back home’. Here there was a stark distinction to be made between bishops from India and Africa who were expected to return to their Diocese with clear decisions, recalling the fact that, as I understand it, homosexuality is illegal in India. For others, such as myself, the expectation of ‘Lambeth decisions’ was not so prominent, with the possible exception of a few contrasting groups within our Church whose respect for episcopacy, as they see it, has been damaged by bishops who are liberal, or conservative or just indecisive!
For many of us bishops, the question as to whether someone is gay or not is to do with the way we are as human beings. For me, the understanding of homosexuality has increased hugely over the last 20 years. Others see it as a condition which can be healed. Others see it as inherently sinful. There is little point in raising the eyebrows and claiming that it is no longer an issue in our culture; characterising it simply as a pre-occupation of largely middle-aged and elderly men. One Bishop from Africa is regularly threatened because he is an Anglican Bishop, with words daubed over his house: ‘The Bishop is a Gay Bastard’. He has had his life threatened on several occasions. In some cultures, homosexuality can still be a death sentence for some. The Bishop of California, Mark Andrus, a warm, calm and scholarly bishop, described his home city of San Francisco: a liberal culture, multi-cultural and wealthy and yet young gay people have been beaten up and left to die. In no way, could he compromise his stance that gay and lesbian people need respect and love and whole-hearted acceptance. Out of that Indaba session there was no resolution. How could there have been? What did happen was that bishops from spectacularly different cultures listened to each other and loved each other in the different agonies of their diocese, resolving to work together out of that looking, listening and loving.
I was a little anxious at the Indaba session which looked at the bishop as a leader in Mission. To be honest, I had already been winded by the image of the Anglican Church in Africa, Asia and the Pacific where growth is massive and constant. What was so heart-warming was to realise from the deep listening and looking at stories that the growth in the Gambia, for example, is a growth in which I belong. This Anglican Church is our Church. The growth in Sierra Leone is the growth of Argyll and The Isles. The beauties and struggles of our Diocese are the beauties and struggles of the Diocese of Kansas, Delaware and Swaziland. The growth of the Anglican in Africa is not to be understood as a judgement on our diminishment and failure, but a gift that in some ways has come from the faith and conviction of this land, which can now resonate back to us, if we see ourselves more as the communion which Lambeth inspired.
For me, what I have drawn from the Indaba is not just an effective process, but a sense of Eucharistic theology working. Here we were men and women feeling deeply thankful for each other, that what they had received was indeed ‘Christ on the ground’ in the detail of our contrasting lives.


Canterbury Cathedral and its role in the Lambeth Conference will be the subject of my next reflection.

+Martin
Bishop of Argyll and The Isles
19.8.08.

Second Reflection on the Lambeth Conference

Second Reflection on the Lambeth Conference.
Bishop Martin
‘Permafrost, the Bible and Poverty’


In the Paisley of my childhood, the Bible was something black, that was ‘brandished’ in various locations from the lap of my unhappy grandfather to the bed-side table of my Mother.

The Bible was not a book, but an instrument; frankly, of the controlling world of adults and the judgement of a God I could not discern or make sense of in any way. You might think it strange; therefore, that I now find myself a Bishop, who, after all is expected to be a prime holder of the truth of Holy Scripture. After all, at the Lambeth Conference, the three great planks on which Anglicanism is founded are Scripture, Tradition and Reason.

So when it became clear at the Lambeth Conference that almost every day following breakfast there would be a Bible Study, my first reaction was to grit my teeth. That is not to suggest that the Bible was and is not of vital importance to me. At King’s College, London, in the 1960s, where I was taught theology in , the Bible was seen as a highly complex piece of literature that revealed in varying and sometimes in conflicting ways, the story of liberation of a people through suffering, death, triumph, starvation, plenty, deceit, truth, hatred, love, betrayal, loyalty, humour and seriousness…. and belief and unbelief. The complexity of this Bible; this ‘library of the history of salvation’, demanded that the priest in training, must take seriously the literary analysis and criticism that was determined to find out the true sources of the Bible; who was involved in the creation of the writings and for what and whose purpose they were written. The reality was and remains, in my view, that there are some well founded theories that this science has still to finalise, but uncertainty remains. For me that uncertainty adds to the adventure and importance of the Bible, about which there is always a question mark. Sadly, from my perspective, much of that critical approach to the Bible has disappeared. However, I with the Bishop of Lincoln, a good friend of mine, did our best to remind the Conference that Anglicanism has been at the forefront of Biblical criticism.
I feel that there is a Christian mentality now that wants little else but
certainties. Bible studies can often be the place where certainties are hungered for and truth is in danger of being a casualty.

But, but! There on the first morning of the Bible Study, I was in a tiny supervision room of Kent University, near Canterbury with seven other bishops. At the same moment hundreds of bishops and spouses were in similar rooms throughout the University all allowing themselves to be drawn into the mystery of St John’s Gospel, and more specifically the great ‘I am’ sayings of Jesus. There in our cramped space, with a shining face and bright eyes was the Bishop of Kansas, Dean Wolfe, who led our group. His first action?...He gave us all chocolate coated peanuts! [Thank you Jimmy Carter!] By the end of the three weeks, each of us gave each other gifts from our own culture. Let me get this out of the way now. You will have to forgive me! I gave each member of the group – yes – shortbread. I had forgotten to take gifts with me. Guess what? Elspeth went down to Sainsbury’s in Canterbury to buy the shortbread! I can just feel the air thick with emails now! The others brought gifts of American Indian (First Nation) Christian necklaces, The American prayer Book, Candles made in a township outside Pretoria in South Africa, a stole from Ghana, a video of life in the outback near Perth in Western Australia, books, prayer cards and a pink rosary! These wonderful Bishops were from the North American Permafrost to the heats of South and West Africa.
One of the bishops was from a strong evangelical tradition and had attended the conference in Jerusalem (GAFCON) on reasserting traditional Christian values; the Archbishop from Canada who works among First Nation peoples speaks Cree and is profoundly committed to the Church’s open attitude to those in same sex relationships. Bishop Tom from Perth, Australia, flew the flag for liberal attitudes to New Testament study. Bishop Nedi Rivera from Seattle enabled us all to risk speaking the truth to each other and listen deeply. Sitting often quietly but so attentively was the Archbishop of Ghana with a wonderful Christian name: Justice. He was from a strong Anglo-Catholic culture which had been born from the work of USPG in West Africa. Bishop Mazwi from Pretoria was deeply concerned about poverty and how a culture that has increasing images of plenty is going to adapt to the inevitable rising tensions. I silenced the group by telling them that the Diocese of Argyll and The Isles, the ‘cradle of Christianity’ in the West, has only a little over a thousand Episcopalians. I added that I have only ordained one person in the four years in the Diocese and shock of shocks, confirmed only 12 people in that time. Despite this massive diversity in such a small group of Bishops, most of us we had never met a woman bishop before. (Nedi – what a wonderfully inspiring and strong person you are!) Love and prayer marked our time together. To be honest, I suspect that is because we wanted to listen deeply to each other. And there lies the secret.
St John’s Gospel ‘I am’ sayings (‘I am the Bread of Life, I am the door, I am the good shepherd etc’) became not sayings to be examined under a literary microscope, but beautiful summonings for us to be brought into Christ. And here’s the perspective that for some may be difficult to take. To be in Christ is for each of us to be the ‘I am’! So, as you can imagine, there were moments of silence. What dawned on us all, from our different perspectives, was that because the Bishop is an apostle of Christ, he/she is therefore ‘I am’ – the presence of the Word to be discovered in each corner of each Diocese at any given moment. Laughter, sadness, empathy and listening formed the basic chemistry of the group. A few of us did fly the flag for biblical criticism. That didn’t distract us from the subjective engagement with the text, but deepened that engagement. [If you go into the Lambeth Conference website, and click on the ‘resources’ page, you will find an excellent approach to St John’s Gospel which complements the Bible Study process at the conference itself. It’s called ‘Signs on the Way’. You can download it in different formats to suit you. You might find it useful as a basis for a Bible Study in your charges.]
Now, before you read on, I would like you to get your Bible… yes over there in the corner. No, it’s not black, I know. Now open it up and read 2 Samuel 13.1-22. I’ll wait until you’re finished…… The reason I have asked you to do that is because I now want you to imagine a huge Marquee (‘Big Top’) in which about a thousand people are gathered. One of the Bible Study sessions at the Lambeth Conference was held with everyone together. Professor Gerald West a South African Biblical Scholar (with film star good looks!) had asked that the men (Bishops mostly, with a few male spouses) be on one side and women on the other (Mostly spouses, with a few women Bishops). This was a Bible Study on the story you have just read about Tamar – a raped woman, as you will gather from the text. [When was the last time you heard that story read?] Gerald split us up into fours, which enabled us simply to turn around to those closest to us and share our feelings about the characters who abused, were abused, who didn’t want to face the truth, who held their dignity, who resisted acknowledging the reality of abuse. Roving microphones picked up some reflections from each group. The atmosphere was electric. In so many cultures, abuse is not acknowledged, let alone talked about. Facing up to the potential in all of us, including in me a Bishop, to abuse others in ways subtle and not so subtle, was the painful but creative outcome of what was astonishingly skilful and, for me at least, harrowing experience.


What occurs to me is that perhaps from time to time, more of our charges might risk such an approach to Scripture in the middle of the Eucharist. What would happen if occasionally at a Eucharist, following the Gospel, you simply turned to those closest to you and shared your feelings about the Gospel? If then the reflections were pooled…. Who knows what might come out of it….?
Thank you Lambeth Conference for renewed inspiration in the Bible as it becomes a living present engagement with Christ. My next reflection will look at an approach that was adopted by the Conference to sharing critical issues of our time in a way that has been developed over the centuries in Africa – Indaba.

First Reflection on the Lambeth Conference

First Reflection on the Lambeth Conference.
From Bishop Martin.
Argyll and The Isles.
The Pre-Lambeth Visit: Planes and Boats and Buses.


Bishop Surya and his wife Veendya [The Diocese of Karimnagar, North India] stood on the deck of David Ainsley’s powerful boat ‘Porpoise’ and played right into my romantic conceptions of that mystical looking which I associate with those of a spiritual nature from the Indian Subcontinent. They were one of the episcopal couples who were being hosted in the Diocese of Argyll and The Isles as part of the Pre-Lambeth Conference programme. The appeal of what I have imagined to be an Indian spiritual temperament arose in my early experiences of being an Episcopalian. Back in the 1960s, the Rector of St Barnabas, Paisley, my home town, was the saintly John Aaron, originally from the Church of South India, whose wife Grace had that redoubtable quality of not having to try too hard to convey her authority. Both John and Grace had that look, as if they were patiently waiting for a realisation to come from some distant place about which the rest of us were unaware. I could see the same in Surya and Veendya.

Bishop Wayne and I were wondering, before the conference began, whether he would still be the tallest Bishop in the Anglican Communion. The verdict now is…just! He is closely followed by a Bishop from Khartoum – Joseph. Wayne and his wife Holly, of course, are well known to our Diocese. My predecessor, +Douglas and his wife Pat, created the companion relationship with the Diocese of Delaware and that relationship remains strong. Speaking of his height, he says it is an advantage in a crowd provided he’s not late for an appointment!
I plan to be writing several reflections on Lambeth, which will include my experience of sharing the conference with the Bishops of the American Episcopal Church and their spouses. I would only comment, at this stage, that most of the American Bishops I met at the conference, including Wayne himself, were enormously patient and generous, given their experience of Bishops from other parts of the communion who exercise alternative episcopal oversight without courtesy or consent. This practice has developed as a result of a reaction from some parts of the Anglican Communion to the American Episcopal Church’s decision to permit the nomination and ordination of a bishop [Gene Robinson] in a same-sex relationship. Although this was expected to be and became an important feature of the conference, from my perspective it was by no means the most significant given the global environmental, poverty and conflict issues that were addressed and engaged with at depth. (More of this in further reflections] Wayne’s gentleness and strength are indeed an example. Holly, Wayne’s wife, returned to the States following the pre-Lambeth visit. Like many Bishop’s spouses, she had her own work to do. Holly is a practice nurse covering a wide range of medical issues in Wilmington, Delaware.

One of our experiences during the Pre-Lambeth weekend was the welcome Festival Evensong for the Feast of St Benedict at the Cathedral of the Holy Spirit, Cumbrae. Alastair Chisholm and the St Maura Singers prepared fine music and with the beautiful and traditional liturgy of the Cathedral, our episcopal guests were truly introduced into the small, beautiful and challenging life of our Diocese.

The Archbishop of Aoterea,Turei, [New Zealand], has a fascinating Christian name – Brown. Now, I was tempted beyond self-control to ask him if there were connections, given his name, to Scotland, given the immigration history of New Zealand. That produced a smile and a ‘d’know’ look. He and his wife Mihi had the misfortune to have had their luggage mislaid prior to arriving at Glasgow Airport. Turei is a quiet man who has a constant and gentle smile. The connection was made with him through Fiona Rice and the Mothers’ Union. Getting to know Turei and Mihi revealed how strong the MU is in other parts of the Anglican Communion, deeply involved practically and widely in desperate circumstances. Many communities and family life is breaking down, even in New Zealand, including among indigenous or first nation peoples.

Yes, during the Pre-Lambeth weekend, we had a visit to Inveraray Castle. You can imagine that, despite the polite restraint, there was understandable fascination with the history of a culture that had a strong influence on our colonial history. During the conference itself, I became deeply aware of the history of British Missionary organisations (e.g. USPG and CMS) which accompanied that history. These eras may have passed, but the Christian legacy is now bearing huge fruit and a ‘shifting of gravity’ to where Anglicanism is growing and flowering.
I caught one of our guests staring open-mouthed at the hall in the castle filled with pikes, swords and muskets. I commented, perhaps inappropriately, that the images of Argyll that such a quantity of weaponry creates, was of a part of Scotland in 18th century, not unlike the Balkans and the Caucasus in the 20th and 21st century. Our guide was fascinating. But I shall never forget her answer to the question: ‘What is that huge wool tassel just under the sharp part of the pikes. The calm answer? ‘Oh, that’s to collect the blood so that the handle of the pike doesn’t become slippery’!

Tanzania is an African Country where Christianity is strong and growing. Bishop Mdimi, the Bishop of Central Tanganyika, another Bishop in the Argyll and The Isles group, told me that on the Sunday before he left for the Lambeth Conference, he had confirmed 150 people at the Sunday morning Eucharist and a further 100 people in the evening. For that, he needed the assistance of two retired bishops. He was stunned into silence when I told him that in my four years, I had only confirmed 12 people in total. Comparison by statistics, of course, is not helpful. Our cultural and ecclesial circumstances are so different. One of Mdimi’s challenges, of course, is how those numbers of new confirmed are then nurtured and supported. One of the challenges to me, nevertheless, is to ask myself what is our mission not just in wide sweeping terms as in our Diocesan Vision [“Christ call us to live like Him is Word, Sacrament, prayer and Service amongst others”], but also locally in our little charges, as our culture seems to face increasing distance from Christianity, where many have had little or no significant exposure to Christianity, let alone its teaching. Sadly, not long after the conference got under way, Mdimi’s wife, Irene, had to return to Australia, from where she originated, because of their son’s illness.

Elspeth, my dear wife, with her trusty team – Beth Connolly, Fiona Rice, Christiane Lee and Vanessa Kilpatrick, have given time, creativity and careful organisation to the pre-Lambeth visit of the four Bishops and their wives: Hospitality, Ceilidh, Minibus, Travel, Boats and the hosting Charges of Dunoon, Duror, Campbeltown and Oban. Thank you to them for their hard work and many gifts. That work, I believe, set a tone of care and friendship which was essential for the Conference itself. However, none of that welcome would have been possible if it was not for the generosity of charges across our Diocese that contributed to the weekend. Christ was ‘on the ground’ with us throughout and we set off for Canterbury with a sense of that image of Christ also ‘going before us’.
One footnote to this reflection…. The journey from Glasgow, by coach to Canterbury took 15 hours! There was a three hour delay on the M6. However, Christ was there as well. There I stood on the third lane of the motorway, surrounded by stationary (you will glad to now!) solid metal, talking to the Archbishop of Quebec, who was hosted in the Diocese of Moray, Ross and Caithness, talking about mission in remote rural Churches in Canada and Scotland. Thank you M6.
My next reflection will be on the Retreat in Canterbury Cathedral for Bishops before the conference itself began. Watch this space…

+Martin
Argyll and The Isles
Sunday 10th August 2008.

Matthew under the arm 131

For days now, Columba and I have been walking through wilderness. Nothing seems to grow except the occasional desolate scrub. The pathway is like caked clay. Beside the road, family groups huddle on their haunches staring hopelessly at us as we pass. They have been fleeing for weeks from the war. It is as if, as Graham Greene would have put it, they were waiting at an appointed place for their inevitable fate. In my bag, was a bottle with just a suggestion of water at the bottom. Wrapped in cloth was the remainder of yesterday's bread and cheese. Columba was needed. So I urged him to continue past the groups until we found a place where could have something to eat and drink. Eventually, beside a ruined sheep pen, I gave him a little bread and the bottle. he disappeared with both. Later in the afternoon, he was rasping for water. I realised then that he had taken his food and drink back to the group. Christ of the alienated and destitute, I am still on this pilgrimage and I have still not learnt!


Matthew 27.1-10
One of the greatest challenges to any legal system even in supposedly sophistictaed societies, is to ensure that the outcome of litigation is not engineered in advance. Even in the UK, there have been recent legal cases where evidence has been distinctly loaded or 'spun' in order to produce a desired outcome. After all, it can be said that agile council has the precise job of attempting to steer the mind of the court or jury in a particular direction. That's the job. Even on a personal level, I want you to be seen to be wrong and for you to accept that I am right. Worse, I am in danger of assuming that you need to have the 'Jesus Christ' that I want you to have. Worse still, I might find myself using the Bible as spiritual justification for my own prejudices and desire for influence over others. My outcomes! So the devastating and intolerable guilt that welled up in Judas when he realised that the case against Jesus was 'stacked' was too much. What an end! A potter's field - a graveyard for foreigners. Maybe that is where Christ is to be found first! Otherwise what's the point of the story being included on the Gospel?

I would have the trust and courage to find You in the places of alienation

Where is it that you feel, or have felt, most alienated yourself? Remember that this question is to be asked in the context of you praying! So establish stillness and focus. Sit in stillness, breathe easily and keep your hands resting on your lap. (or choose whatever posture helps you!) Be with Judas as he goes through his own agony in this passage. If you have the nerve, allow yourself to BE Judas in this story. Then, recall times when you have felt alienated, particularly by your own behaviour, attitudes, even words. What is essential, as always, is to conduct this exercise in the presence of Christ. This maybe a disturbing exercise. Share your experiences of it with someone you trust. What lies at the heart of the exercise is to recall what your feelings were about Jesus Christ as you prayed.

+Martin
Argyll and The Isles

Matthew under the arm 130

[I have just returned from the Lambeth Conference. My own lifestyle has to change before I can be really truthful about my own experience of the Conference. How else can I respond to meeting the Bishop of Darfur, Rembock, Swaziland and California! For me, all the other issues fade into insignificance....]

The day's walk was long and, frankly, tedious. It was too hot for walking. To make matters worse, Columba kept stopping, sitting down on the side of the path and putting his head in his hands. No matter how much I tried, I couldn't seem to get from him what was wrong. From my bag, I pulled out some bread and some cheese to cheer him at noon. He simply put his hand up to push it all away. By mid-afternoon he was so overcome with fatigue, that he leant on my arm with his head bowed. 'I read early today of Peter's denial', he whispered. 'And so...?', I prompted. 'I realise', he added with a cough, 'that I have given attention to so many pilgrim's on this path, but I have not seen Christ in you.' 'In me?' I laughed. I looked at me and wept.

Matthew 26.69-75
At least Judas didn't lie! Maybe his intentions were convoluted (to which the Gospel writers and Christian history have added the word 'betrayal', which has that permanent stain to it). Peter, 'the rock' of the Church was a liar, as I am, even if I hope my lying is not too often and not too obvious! But there is a wonderful impetuosity and naivety to Peter. Maybe the gift of naivety is an important one for the Church as well. God spare us from the blandishment of subtle and sophisticated Christianity, without losing the importance of the intellect and the refinement that questioning brings. The third denial and the cock crowing led to that powerful moment so powerfully caught in J S Bach's 'St Matthew Passion' and 'St John Passion'. The narrator sings the words 'wept bitterly' with musical and liturgical pathos which is unparalleled in musical history. So Peter's lowest moment is 'celebrated' in the Gospel. Therefore, there is no place, even my own denial of Christ, that I can go that Christ in his love cannot come.... indeed has not already come! Despair and hope - the paradoxical experience of Christ.

I WILL COME TO YOU IN THE PLACE OF YOUR GREATEST DISTANCE FROM GOD.

Enter into your silent meditation no matter how you are feeling. Your mood maybe be that of wanting to do everything but be with God. You may want to put your hand up and simply dismiss the activity of meditation as a waste of time. Don't judge yourself. It maybe that you are longing to enter this bleak moment with Peter as it touches your own personal experience. Whatever the feeling (or lack of it) be faithful to your time of prayer and go to your centre. Remember that it is important to discipline yourself to the regular practice of meditation on a daily basis. Even if this is established in you, don't imagine that denial and distance from God is no longer an issue for you. If it isn't now, it will be at some point. This is precisely why I can never, never be your judge. This passage is for me and it is for you in our own dark moment around a fire trying to stay anonymous, only to have our lonely inclination to hopelessness exposed gently and lovingly as in the Gospel. If you feel like weeping...then weep.

+Martin
Bishop of Argyll and The Isles