My new role

After what happened in our choir on Holy Saturday and Easter Sunday, I've been appointed to 'coordinate' the choir. We have our first practice since, tomorrow evening.

I have no idea what to expect. I know that there is a lot of 'talk' among choir members but no one is saying anything to me, which makes me feel a little nervous. Although I am capable, I don't think anyone realises that I am actually able for this position. I think some choir members feel put out that I was asked over them (I'm 25 and the youngest member of the choir. The next youngest member is in her 40s).

Please pray for me - that I have the courage to lead well - and that we all work together to serve God through music.

Being with others

I'm reading 'The Art of Being' by Erich Fromm. One phrase practically leapt off the page at me the other day:

There is no contact between human beings that does not affect both of them

Two things really struck me about this:

The first is the word 'contact'. Why not 'meeting' or 'discussion'? I travel to work on the Bus and Tube (the Underground, or Subway for non-Londoners). I work in Central London, full of tourists in a building of a couple of hundred people. I will get around 10 emails, 5 or 6 phone calls and 3 or 4 'person enquiries' in an average day. I come into contact with a lot of people. Do I pay them any attention? Mostly not.

I spent a couple of hours last summer discussing the behaviour of Londoners on the Tube with an American friend of mine (this was about a month after the July bombings, so the Tube was on everyone's mind). She was a little bemused by it. In the rush hour, Tube users will stand in very close proximity to complete strangers, in complete silence, avoiding eye contact. I was trying to explain that this mental detachment (silence and avoiding eye contact) was the only way to cope (or avoid) the impact of such physical intimacy. Our standard 'Tube' behaviour has bothered me ever since and I think this is why. We know that mere 'contact' with others has an impact, we don't want to face it, so we minimise the effect as much as we can.

In a previous post, I talked about how scary it can be to realise that everything we do has an impact on others. But, the quote above made me realise that the people around me have an impact on me. It's one of those things that you know, but somehow don't. My accent changes depending on who is around me - I will talk with an Irish lilt, a little bit street, with perfect diction, with an American twang, a little bit posh. If I want to talk in an Irish accent, I'll hang out with Irish people, and so on.

But I never really think about the effect of hanging out with happy people, angry people, liars, people who hide, religious people etc., and how it changes me. I know it's easier to be God-focused around people who believe and practice, and the longer I hang out with these people, the easier it is to be that way (and maintain it). This quote suggests to me that I will become more like the people that are around me - I will tend towards them.

Given this, that I have contact with so many different people in a given day, worries me slightly. Obviously, I can assert myself so I'm not going to adopt blatent attitudes. But what about sutble ones? What effect will being surrounded by people who don't say 'Good Morning' have on me? Or people who can only talk about the latest fashions and what was on TV last night? Or people who only worship money and power?

Keeping it real

This week, I've been trying to pay attention to how I go from being (mostly) fulfilled and contented (focused on God) to being not-at-ease and unsatisfied (not focused on God). Or, in other words, how I get back to normal after Easter, or some other major Catholic event like World Youth Day, or a retreat.

I go from being everything I do, everyone I see, every conversation I have being connected to the Event one day, to being completely disconnected from it the next day (in that nothing I do, no one I see and no conversation I have are about the Event at all). I go from being busy and focused, to doing nothing and having no focus.

So I catch up on all the things I couldn't do, like the washing, sleeping, talking to the family, reading emails etc.. I find I'm a little bored, so I start to 'do' things. Before I know where I am I acquire habits, like watching Doctor Who and Question Time and reading the Guardian and Ecologist.

I do these things for the sake of doing something. They are interesting, socially acceptable to do, sometimes they impact my life - but they do not give my life and my actions meaning. They fill time.

But they quickly seem to become 'important' and 'essential' and crowd out the truly important and essential things - like prayer and God.

So the question is, how to hold on to the really important stuff and function in a world where everyone else pretends like the really important stuff doesn't exist?

Computer problems...

How did we cope before computers? Mobile phones? Hair straighteners?

I can't remember. I'm sure all these gadgets are supposed to make our lives easier - and mostly they do. But when they go wrong, it's a big deal. It's taken me three days to get my computer working (relatively) normally again.

Catholic Youth Ministry Conference

I'm not sure how to describe SPEC. I think it's kind of the Diocesan youth ministry - but there is a lot more to it. I got an email about this conference today - it sounds like fun.

29th April 2006 9:30am - 4:30pm
Discovering a Way... Catholic Youth Ministry Matters Conference day
This is a day for those involved in work with children and young adults, and who wish to explore further the professional and practical aspects of their ministry further. Seminars and workshops range from Child Protection procedures, and risk assessment, to adolescent faith development, and evangelising young people. The keynote speaker is Judi Shimmell, a very experienced and dynamic speaker.

On God's Mercy

I am reading a beautiful book. It is so simply written, so clear in what is being said. Every page has a phrase, a line, that causes me to stop, reflect and remember. I read this passage today on the way home from work.

As you stand before God, think about the mercy he has shown you, the enlightenment he has given you, the good thoughts he has inspired in you, the pitfalls of this world from which he has kept you safe, and the way he has helped you inwardly.

Allow yourself to be moved to tears as you remember all the precious signs of his goodness.

Think about the crosses he has entrusted to you so that you may become a living sacrifice, because they are the clear signs of his love. Let your gratefulness for the past inspire you with trust for the future. Be peruaded that he has loved you too much not to love you still.

Do not mistrust God - no, you must mistrust yourself. Remember that he is, as Saint Paul put it, "the Father of mercies and the God of all comfort." Ask him, with King David, "Lord, where is thy steadfast love of old?"

God has taken away the soft comfortable things from your life. Why? Because you need to be humbled and to come to know yourself; because in vain you have sought elsewhere for help and comfort.

From Meditations on the Heart of God by Francios Fenelon
Translated by Robert J. Edmonson

Easter Monday Blues

I feel at a loose end today. After four days where the focus has been God, Catholicism and the parish community, it's strange to be back in the secular world.

I miss having things to do, an accepted reason to focus on God, but also people in my parish. Those of us involved in my parish sometimes feel like a huge extended family. What is great about big events like Christmas and Easter, is that we get hang out together and work together - which we just never get to do during 'ordinary time'. We just about manage to say 'hi' once a week as we dash into church five minutes before Mass starts and dash out again as soon as the choir stops singing the final hymn.

We compartmentalise our lives. It's only acceptable to be openly Catholic and spend time doing Catholic things during these brief windows - Sundays, Easter, Christmas and other Feast Days. Because we only have such a short time to be Catholic, we focus on what is essential - God, prayer and attending Mass. We miss out on other things like talking, wasting time, joking - all the things that are part of belonging to a community.

But at Easter, we have four intense days together. We work hard and pray hard, and and get to play around the edges. Like trying hard not to giggle when the girls pretend to weep during the Children's Stations of the Cross or singing 'This is the day' for the millionth time on Easter Day (but with drums and tamborine) or joking with the altar servers during the hour we hang around getting ready before Mass or getting roped (or watching someone else get roped) into doing something at the last minute and really not having a clue what's going on. It's really REAL life and it's fun.

'Normal' life just seems boring and unreal by comparison.

This Easter...

...has been the most bizarre Easter I have ever experienced. I still feel okay. Apart from last night, I've felt okay throughout all the major services. I think I know why.

Last night (the most important, in terms of complexity and musical content) our choir leader walked away and refused to lead or sing. Five minutes before the start of the service. Over something so tiny, it's not even worth mentioning. Since I have been deputising for her for the last couple of years and I was cantoring the psalms, I took over and led the choir through the service. For three hours.

It was the most terrifying thing I have ever done, because I had very little idea what/when/how/why things were supposed to be happening. If I had not been feeling okay previously, I do not think I would have made it through the service. Although I was really upset (to the point of physically shaking), no one else seemed to realise the magnitude of what happened until it was all over. In fact, the choir got more compliments on last night's music than the previous two days.

But almost as soon as it was over, and I told someone (and had a drink) I felt okay again.

On reflection, I think I have been sheltered from the full spiritual imact of Good Friday and Easter to enable me to function through last night. I knew something was up when I did not get emotionally effected by Good Friday - there was no obvious reason for me to feel as okay as I did.

All I can say, is that God really does work in mysterious ways.

Happy Easter

He is Risen, Alleluia! Let the celebration commence.

from the Exaultet last night:

The power of this holy night dispels all evil, washes guilt away,
restores lost innocence, brings mourners joy; it casts out hatred,
brings us peace, and humbles earthly pride.

How cool is that?!

Doing the right thing

Doing the right thing is really hard.

Stating the obvious really, but it always strikes me at the Last Supper how bittersweet it must have been for Jesus. To celebrate the Passover with the disciples and to know it was for the last time and to know what was to come next. And yet he just carried on.

That to me is the essence of freedom and free will (a concept I have struggled with) - to carry on being yourself and doing the right thing and not change just because of what other people say or do, or what the cost is to you (although what other people say or do can also push you back on the right track, if you get lost).

In this light, Jesus' struggle in the Garden is where he convinces himself (again) to do what he knows is right. It's not that he's not going to do it - the decision has already been made. But he chooses again, he chooses to continue, he chooses to be himself, no matter the cost.

This is the most daunting challenge for me - to see God's will for me, to know it, to want to do it and to do it.

Maundy Thursday - our service

I did not expect to be feeling how I am feeling now yesterday. I expected that I would be quite sad and tired. I have had a normal working day, followed by a full Mass with lots of music to sing.

But, Thank God, I feel alright. Almost everything at this evening's service went well. There was minimal tension and anger. We (the choir) knew what we were doing. That sentence bears repeating because I so often find myself in a haze of confusion: We knew what we were doing. There were no sudden surprises, no unexpected occurances. Admittedly, I got to Church very early and managed to speak to everyone involved in organising some aspect of the liturgy. But everyone was okay.

This might appear very strange if you are reading this and you don't know me. The last time I got home from a major liturgical celebration and did not feel depressed, exhausted and tearful was at our parish confirmation last July. I'm almost giddy with excitement that I'm okay. Which is completely contrary to the events we celebrated tonight and are preparing for tomorrow - but I think I may be able to cope with that.

God is Good, All the Time.

Palm Sunday

I was really struck by the first reading we heard at Mass yesterday, from Isaiah 50: 4-7

The Lord has given me a disciple's tongue. So that I may know how
to reply to the wearied he provides me with speech.

I am given the ability to speak by God. He gives it to me for a reason - not to make noise, not to hear the sound of my own voice, not to ask for things for myself, but to reply to the wearied. 'Reply' suggests that I should speak in answer to others. To the wearied. Who are the wearied? I'm feeling tired right now, but I don't think that's the kind of weary meant.

Each morning he wakes me to hear, to listen
like a disciple. The Lord has opened my ear.

My duty each day is to listen. That's the primary function, first thing in the morning. The emphasis is a little scary - to hear, to listen, opened my ear. Compare that to speech!

For my part, I made no resistance, neither did I turn away. I offered my back to those who struck me, my cheeks to those who tore at my beard; I did not cover my face against insult and spittle.

Not running away. But also, not wildly embracing this. I get the sense that this is a duty, the right thing to do. So it will be done.

The Lord comes to my help, so that I am untouched by the insults.
So, too, I set my face like flint; I know I shall not be ashamed.

I like the first half. It's straightforward and uncomplicated - listen, speak to help people who need it. The next, not so much. It seems hard and lonely - one person against everyone else, who actively hate. But the last bit makes it all okay. God is there - what more could you need or want than to be on God's side?

WYD 2006

In Rome, World Youth Day is celebrated on Palm Sunday. In England and Wales, it's celebrated on the Feast of Christ the King. I'm not sure why they're different.

This year's theme is

"Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path"

(Ps 119 [118]:105)

Read the Message for World Youth Day 2006 here.

Consultation

In the Diocese of Westminster, we've been having a renewal programme (At your Word, Lord, followed by Christ Among Us) and a consulation, Graced by the Spirit. The Cardinal has published a white paper and wants us to respond.

Supporting the liturgical life of Parishes

I'm thinking... Your thoughts?

With power comes responsibility...

To know that I matter and can make a difference makes me feel excited - for about five minutes. Then I start to get scared. That means I have responsibility - what I do can impact other people. Even more scarily, what I don't do could impact them.

A few years ago, a friend came to me for advice. Lots of people were telling her what to do, but she wan't sure. I happened to be really stressed that day, so instead giving her my time and attention to help her weigh up the arguments for and against, I told her that she had to make up her own mind and do what she thought was right. I chose whatever else it was I was doing over her.

Can I remember what I was doing that was so important I chose to do it over helping my friend? No. But I remember her asking for my help and fobbing her off without really paying her much attention. The decision she made has changed her and caused her a lot of pain and heartache. I don't know if my help would have made any difference, but I always wonder and I feel responsible in some ways.

I can't second guess every little thing I do and say. I'd never get anthing done. What I can do is to be myself and trust in God. I finally made the decision to blog for a reason. I'm sitting here, typing this now for a reason. I don't know what that reason is, only that I feel compelled to write this. So here I am, being me and trusting that God knows what he's doing.

Actions matter

In an episode of the TV series Angel called 'Epiphany' (Ithink) the hero, Angel, uses this phrase to explain his attitude:

If nothing you do matters, all that matters is what you do.

It bugged me for ages - I knew there was something to it, but I couldn't see what it was. Then it came to me.

There are two ways to see your relationship with the universe.

1. You are unique and special. You are the only you in existance. There is no one else like you. You live in a galaxy full of stars, yet you happen to live on this particular planet, with your own hair, your own life and your own way of thinking. Everything you do matters, because everything you do, think and be is unique. No one else can be you, except you. What you do matters.

2. You are not unique and special. There are over 6 billion humans living on this planet right now, just like you. Millions of people have lived before you and millions will live after you. There are thousands of stars in the universe. There is no point in trying to do or be any different, because everything has already, or will be, done by other people who can do a much better job than you. Nothing you do matters

Here is where it gets interesting. If nothing I do matters and I decide to - for example - smile at someone one morning, what does that mean? I don't have to smile at them - nothing I do matters. But the fact that I chose to smile at them, when nothing I do matters, means that I have chosen to exert myself for no other reason than I want to. What does that say about my regard for the person I smile at? What effect does it have on them? It makes it kind of special. It matters.

No matter what your view on your relationship with the universe, your actions matter. They make a difference. You matter.

Nothing nice or good has to happen. But it does. As my sister says, it makes everything good better.

Why 'Look at the birds'?

I was given this verse as part of a meditation at a Catholic Youth Festival last summer - and it has just stayed with me. And that was the message I took away from the Festival. Don't be afraid. There is lots we do worry about, lots we could worry about, but surprisingly little that we should worry about.

The passage goes on:

So do not start worrying: 'Where will my food come from? or my drink? or my clothes?' ... Your Father in Heaven knows you need all these things. Instead be concerned about everything else with the Kingdom of God and with what he requires of you, and he will provide you with all these other things. So do not worry about tomorrow; it will have enough worries of its own...
Mt 6: 31-34

Worrying about things takes a lot of time and energy. If I worried about everything, I would never do anything. So, I should only worry about the really important things. Things like 'Am I doing the right thing?', 'What is God calling me to do in the present moment?', or 'How can I best be myself?'. God takes care of the rest, even if it doesn't always seem obvious.

Welcome to Look at the birds

We've had a Lenten Study Group in my parish for the last few weeks, as part of our Diocisan Renewal Programme, Christ Among Us. And I found something unexpected - I really enjoyed it. I enjoyed it because we talked to each other about God, Catholicism, our parish and Life in general. I like to talk and think about this kind of stuff, but I'm usually afraid to. The more we talked and shared and discussed, the more I thought and the more confident I felt about what I thought.

Our Lenten Study Group has ended, but it might continue after Easter in a different format. I continue to think. I'd like the discussion to continue...