Why Me? Lenten Talk by Gill Rowe given at St John the Baptist on Sunday 12 March 2017
Why Me? Lenten Talk by Gill Rowe given at St John the Baptist on
Sunday 12 March 2017
First of all, a thank you to Father Peter, in
his absence, for inviting me to participate in this series of Lent talks. I confess to being slightly intimidated. I am all too aware of the high standard set
by previous speakers and it is quite a challenge first to examine and then to
talk about one’s spiritual journey. But here, for what it’s worth, is the story
of mine, so far.
I have had it easy. I haven’t wrestled with
demons or experienced the dark depths of existential anxt. described by many
pilgrims on the way. I was a child of loving
and devoted parents to whom the Christian faith was absolutely fundamental and
I have been blessed with a happy marriage, children, grandchildren and an
optimistic glass half-full disposition.
My father was a schoolmaster, but his father
and many of his forebears were clergy, and the school where he taught, St
Edward’s in Oxford, was a Church of England foundation with an ordained priest
as a Warden. When my father became a housemaster we moved into a boys’ boarding
house in the main quadrangle, diagonally across from the chapel where the boys,
and my father, attended services twice daily and we went as a family on
Sundays. In the holidays we attended the
local parish church.
So for me and my sister
churchgoing was part of the fabric of life. We were brought up with Christian values
and we were encouraged to be dutiful. My parents were good role models; my
father was dedicated, fair-minded, and self-deprecating, my mother generous-hearted
and endlessly hospitable. The house seemed always full of people and we were
part of a friendly and supportive community.
Most family holidays were spent with my
grandparents in the Lake District where
my grandfather, in his retirement, ministered at a tiny whitewashed church in the
tranquil and unspoilt Newlands Valley, near Derwentwater. The beauty of the
Lakes is deep in my soul and I have an
abiding love of mountains. Some of my earliest memories are of Newlands and of
my grandfather, who as a child I think I probably mixed up with God, in the
pulpit in his white surplice.
I continued to go to church regularly
throughout my teens. At boarding school we
attended the local parish church every Sunday and the vicar prepared me for Confirmation,
which I took very seriously. I devoured C.S. Lewis and I remember grappling, not
very successfully, with Thomas a Kempis.
Church attendance had, therefore, always been part of life, though from where I
am now, it looks more like conditioning than conviction, habit rather than zeal.
I liked church. I liked singing hymns and certainly I believed in God. But I
don’t think I was convinced that Jesus lived in me and I in him, whatever the
words of the liturgy said and at university, and the years immediately
thereafter, my church going lapsed. I didn’t lose my belief in God, nor the
conviction, which I hold to this day, that in the long run good will come out
of what we perceive to be bad, but I simply turned away. I was too busy with
exciting new experiences.
I had turned my back on God, but of course
He was always there and called me back through love; love of my husband, Clive,
and my three children, of beauty, of music, of nature. We discovered Christ
Church, in Victoria Road which had a thriving Sunday School, and we became part
of a vibrant church community. Regular church going has been important ever
since, for the last 20 years at St George’s, in Gloucestershire, and latterly,
from time to time here at St. John’s.
In 1992 I had a very serious car
crash on the M40. I was hit hard from behind and sent careering across the
motorway and back. Had I been in any other car but a Volvo I should probably
have been killed. I was certainly sure I was going to be as I headed at speed
towards a steep bank. It is true that
your life flashes by in a nanosecond. I
was very surprised to find myself still alive, though upside down, as the car
did a complete somersault, eventually landing right way up, facing back the way
I had come. But the point is I had
absolutely no fear of dying; it would
have been fine to have been there, whatever and wherever there is, rather than here. Years later I had another
near death experience which confirmed that we should have no fear of dying. This knowledge, like faith, is a precious
gift.
With hind-sight the car crash was a
godsend; it forced me to stop and change direction. I no longer drove hundreds of miles, I
stopped sitting as a chairman in the Family Court. I had time to read. I explored the writings of Thomas Merton I discovered St Theresa of Avila. I read poetry. I started to paint, and to write
again. Later I did a counselling course at the Westminster Pastoral Foundation.
In the long process of recovery I met some wonderful caring, spiritual people
and I also learned what it is like to be incapacitated and dependent on
others. It was a humbling time.
But despite all this I would say that my
spiritual journey had hardly begun. It was during a week of prayer at St
George’s, initiated by Father Michael Fuller, that there came a real epiphany. For
an hour each day you were assigned to a spiritual director, in my case Kim
Nataraja, whose direction was enlightening, and the daily homework, to ponder an
assigned line of Scripture, brought many
insights and revelations. One morning, I was suddenly overwhelmed by a powerful
presence, like a physical force. In awe I knew Jesus to be there. ‘I am with you
always’. I was enveloped by and infused with a profound and loving peace. It
was an extraordinary and joyful dawning.
Kim introduced me to Christian Meditation,
an ancient form of silent contemplative prayer which dates back to the Desert
Fathers. The essence of meditation, so familiar in eastern religions, is
stillness, silence and the repetition of a mantra. The World Council for
Christian Meditation suggests an Aramaic word Maranatha meaning Come Lord.
John Main, a Benedictine monk who wrote extensively about this form of
contemplative prayer explains; ‘The important aim in Christian meditation is to
allow God’s mysterious and silent presence within us to become more and more
not only a reality, but the reality which gives meaning, shape and purpose to
everything we do, everything we are. Our meditation is the outward expression
of our inward commitment to the presence of that Spirit of God, dwelling in our
hearts’.
Meditation is now an integral part of my
life. Whenever possible, I attend the weekly group at St George’s, and try to
do a meditation twice daily. And as I tread this path, which is centuries old but
new each time, there continue to be
epiphanies, the ‘Oh I SEE moments’. Familiar
words take on new depths of meaning. The
Cloud of Unknowing resonates. One is given glimpses of what the great
mystics are talking about if ‘through a glass (very) darkly’,
At the same time, during the week of
prayer, I first experienced what I can only describe as a calling. Healing presented itself, first in one of the
prayer sessions following my hour with Kim, next as a result of a sermon and
thirdly in a ‘chance’ encounter with an old friend of mine who is a healer and
psychotherapist. Healing kept ‘coming
up’ and I am bound to say that at first I dismissed it as fanciful. But it
persisted so, with encouragement, I trained with the National Federation for
Spiritual Healing, now part of the Healing Trust, and what a revelation that
was! We were a mixed crowd, of all
religious faiths and none, some very New Age, but we had all been drawn to
healing. We all practised some form of Meditation; we all wanted to help people.
We learned how to channel the energy from our source, which of course I, along
with many healers, believe to be Divine, to people open to receive it.
Healing is not curing, though physical
symptoms may disappear, but rather an easing of strain. The healer is merely a
channel for the energy of love which enables the person, at some deep level, to
let go of tension and so allow their own healing potential to kick in. The
parallel with meditation is obvious. As
John Main puts it; ‘What we discover in meditation is the power-source that
enables us to live without the anxiety of having to protect ourself. It is established right at the centre of our
own being, in our own heart. ‘God is the
centre of my soul’. People often leave a healing session in much the same
peaceful state as we meditators leaving the group. I give healing sessions when
asked to, sometimes in the most unlikely circumstances, and it is both a
privilege and a joy to do so.
It was also about this time, and I cannot
believe that it is a coincidence, that I started to write poetry and to paint more
seriously. I have published five books
of poetry. Some of the poems are light-hearted, others more profound. Meditation
has been the inspiration for several of these. I should like to end with one.
It is called Tacet. On Meditation.
Tacet,
The calm
That dwells within
Lies deep beneath the skin
It can’t be seen, mapped,
measured, touched.
Shalom.
I guess
I can’t express,
Though fully I confess,
The munificence of this gift;
No stress.
The din!
The rush, the fret!
No wonder we forget
To stop, seek, listen,
contemplate
Within.
So let
Silence abet
This enterprise. Be still.
Allow yourself to meditate.
Tacet.
And when
You do, why then
In time, and time again
You’ll find in truth the deepest
peace.
Amen.
‘Meditation is a way of coming to
your own centre, coming to the foundation of your own being and remaining there
– still, silent attentive’. Word into
silence. Jan 2
‘silence releases the glory of
God in our heart.
Neither l can separate me from the love of God.
‘a journey of faith, of expanding
capacity to love and be loved ThePresent Christ
Jan6
Cassian in the 4th
century, one of the most influential teachers of the spiritual life in the west
and the inspiration for St Benedict
/Word Into Silence Jan 8
In meditation we are focused
beyond ourselves through the working of th Holy Spirit our spirit is
expanding. We discover the power-source
that enables us to live without the anxiety of having to protect ourselves; it
is established right at our centre of our own being, in our own hearts. God is the centre of my soul
The purpose of Meditation is that
we come to our own centre. There is only
one centre Feb 6 The Heart of Creation Jan 19I
It is the mystery of this journey
that sit makes us grow in our sensitivity to the presence of God and the
goodness of his working in many unexpected areas of our lives Letters from the heart Jan 20
Meditation is a learning process
where we enter ever more deeply, ever more richly into the mystery. God is Spirit. God is the breath of life. God is presence
and he is present deep within our being, in hearts. The Heart of Creation Feb 20
Meditation frees us from being
trapped within ourselves. The way forward is oneness with God, in Jesus through
the spirit The Door to Silence Jan 21
In Meditation, in concentrating
on our our mantra we let go of all our preoccupations, our worries, our
thoughts and plans, our self consciousness.
This giving up of self enables us to enter into communion with the Other
and with others at a deep level of reality In the silence of our own heart we
enter into the deep harony that reveals to us our oneness with all. The Door to
Silence Feb 14`1
In emptying of self we are filled
with the power of God and with the knowledge that we are one with God because
lovable and loved. We abandon all our
thoughts, imagaination, insights and above all our own prayers. Word Made Flesh
Feb 18.
Meditation is entry into the
freedom of God In the beginning Mar 1
Meditation is sometimes known as
a pilgrimage, or journey. It is the
journey away from self into the mystery of God.
Word made flesh Mar 15
Total openness to the Spirit so
that in the whole of our life we yes to God
In God we are and we know
ourselves to be lovable and loved It is
established in our hearts if only we will be open to it. the Way of
Unknowing Mar 29
Meditation is experientially
concerned with two important things; the presence of God, and becoming
attentive to that presence. The Way of
Unknowing Apr 25
The reality of God’s Spirit
dwelling within us does not depend on our thinking about it. Indeed it only becomes a personal reality for
us when we stop thinking about it and when we enter into the living experience
of it, in silence The Door t
silence a pril 5
Meditation revbeals our real
being asa state of open hearted receptivity to the Spirit of Jesus who dwells
in our hearts Word into Silence April 8
In prayer we do not take the
initiative.we are not talking to God. We
are listening to his word within us. We are not looking for Him it its he who
has found us. Word into silence May
4Meditation requites absolute trust. We
lay ourselves on the lin. We offer
ourselves to God abacdoning everything that we are and we simply say our
mantr. That is both the challeng of t
and ower of it. Being on the Way May 30
Two imnportant sayings of
JHesus Little child and leave self
behind The Heart of Creation June 24
The practice of meditation is
simply the way to be open to this presence, to this energy, to this harmony and
to be open to it ever more profoundly In
the Beginnin July 15
As John Main put it He has been with me from
the beginning, he always will be with me and he is the way to our universal
Father.