Green Patches

Three Ways of Making a Rule of Life

With Francistide and review of my TSSF Rule of Life still fresh in my mind,  here's some advice on the process applicable to anybody looking to live life more intentionally and holistically:

 

A rule is a document embodying the values which are central to your life, and the praxis which allows you to live this out with genuine integrity. 

 - Hermit Sr Laurel from notes from stillsong.

Developing a Rule of Life 13 Tips - from soulgardeners

 

and

Balancing Life by The Rule by Debra Farrington

I came across a wonderful piece of advice yesterday -  that  rule of life should not be a list of 'to do (s)' but of 'to be (s).'

Words, words, words...Over on the Franciscan Support Thread on Shipoffools posters are asking - Is it possible to make a rule of life without using them ? It's been suggested for the TSSF Principles in the past. Could you sign it? Paint, sing or dance it? Any other medium? Suggestions please...

For Franciscans I"d have thought creative ways like these would be spot on, given their sprituality and the famous "Preach the gospel. If necessary, use words," saying popularly attributed to our founder.

Granted we might have problems at annual renewal presenting them all at the altar - still I'm sure there are ways and means of getting over that one!

Light my fire - Thunder and Rainbows

 

 -  Fremte  from Wikimedia Commons

 

 

We could do with some here - thunder I mean.  It's absolutely scorching for the third day running, with humidity at 90% if you believe everything the BBC says.  And much as I'm tempted to rush out into the garden and continue with my painting of everything that moves - and some things  that don't, (the dog is breathing a sigh of relief here), I have retained an ounce  of commonsense. We don't want Mr GP to return from his travels this evening to  discoverhis wife flat out on a bench and the dog decorating  the lawn with Jackson Pollock-type  streaks in tasteful sage and buttermilk.

I've been reflecting a little on what life's been like in the GP household over on my wibsite blog  - and on my own journeyings in particular - where the metaphors of thunder and rainbows and holding the two in tension have and continue to be part of a learning curve.  I'm trying, (famous last words) as I've said on Musings, to major on the rainbows as much as poss. Given my natural tendency to Eyorism (have I coined a new expression?) this is no mean feat.  I've always said that I don't know how I'd cope without my sense of humour. One of the warning signs that I'm beginning to get overstressed and need to lighten up is that it begins to wane. I'll admit - signing on to Youtube and grimly ploughing my way through a selection of comedy clips - as I did after a particularly 'orrible 'blip' last weekend maybe wasn't the way to go. 

However, consciously focusing on those brighter moments, (though without morphing into Julie Andrew's "My Favourite Things" mode; there are limits!) has helped. Nothing new and certainly not rocket science. Readers who are of an Ignatian bent will recognise elements of the examen here: pausing at intervals to reflect on where God's been present , what draws  energises, fires you up  (and what does the opposite). A form of this is actually written into my rule of life as a daily practice. Yes, I am Franciscan I know - but let's allow for overlap, shall we?  Did you know that Francis introduced a form of "Ignatian" meditation long before Inigo was around, with his institution of the first Creche Vivante (living crib); the forerunner of our modern crib scene.

To get back to Inigo -  at the excellent BRF Festival of Prayer  recently one speaker told of a similar exercise which has really caught my imagination: their spiritual director had challenged them to try and list 100 (Yes, you read it correctly, one hundred) things that energised and brought them alive. Talk about a challenge. Is it really possible? Time will tell. To date my 'list ' has around 30 or 40 items on it; there are days when it sits at the back of my journal untouched, others when I add several at a time.  It certainly resonates with the way in which I've been experiencing a sense of quiet prayerfulness in some of the most unlikely activities recently - hence the mad garden painting spree.  It's a far cry from the rather (at times) grim, greyish, often extremely cerebral 'Quiet Time' which even  if  it's not actually used up much   of my time, certainly has provoked a lorry load of guilt  in the past.  I'm not the only one it seems. There's a discussion currently over on The Ship on the self same topic. I just love the poster who describes her  prayer practice nowadays as more "Every Now and Then with Jesus."

Happily I'm beginning to loosen up nowadays and am trying to balance regularity and spontaneity.  Not quite in the same way as those delightful Beaker Folk, thank  the Lord, but I'm getting there. Though maybe counting my exploits with a Kelly Kettle and homemade bunting (my latest craft project) as meditative prayer practices is carrying the definition a tad too far. I'll be into fire eating and prophetic banner waving before you can turn round, and then, where will we be?

'Rule of Life' - Commitment to transformation

"The keeping of a rule is not an end in itself. It is not so that  we can feel more in control or that our lives might be in order. It is not even so we can feel closer to God. Its purpose is transformation: that we make become more Christlike... It is not about a one-off change. It is rather about an ongoing, life-long openess to keep on being changed, with and by the communities which we are committed to."

 - from Alan Hargrave's Living Well: Finding a 'rule of life' to Revitalise and Sustain Us, SPCK Publishing 2010

'Living Well' is one of my current reads.  It's compact, accessible and practical  yet deep. Would that it had been around when I was working out my own rule  with TSSF (Third Order, Society of St Francis). He uses the ancient rule of St Benedict as a structure for his reflections, but the book is designed for anyone who is searching for life-giving transformation and a pattern to their lives.  And 'community' includes : family, partners, work, church, friends; any and all of the groups we live and work with day by day.

On my bookshelves

Currently reading:

1.  Alan Hargrave, Living Well: Finding a 'rule of life' to revitalise and sustain us, (SPCK 19 August 2010) 

2. Susan Pitchford, God in the Dark: Suffering and Desire in the Spiritual Life, (Liturgical Press 31 May 2011)

3. Trystan Owain-Hughes, Finding Hope and Meaning in Suffering,  (SPCK 15 April 2010)

 

 

Poultices and sticking plaster

 

Another thought-provoking post today from Franciscan Ponderings. I love his likening the healing power of Christ in the Eucharist to a poultice, quoting from the medieval  The Epistle of Privy Counsel.

 

'Take good and gracious God, just as he is,

and without further ado

lay him on your sick self  just as you are,

for all the world as if he were a poultice.

For touching God is eternal health.

You are touching his very being,

his own dear self, no more, no less.'

 

 Thanks to the vagaries of the sacristy rota, I seem to have spent a fair amount of time over the last weeks counting out communion wafers - an activity which oddly enough, I find to be very  calming and conducive to reflection. 

 When I left my previous church a few years ago, and went searching for a new 'home,' one of the first things I was looked  for was a place where celebration of the Eucharist was central - weekly,if not daily.  As  this coincided with my journey into TheThird Order, where the Eucharist is the focus of our prayer and way of life, it became even more of an imperative. At least the field was narrowed - if I'd ever harboured thoughts of changing denomination, this was a staying point.

The heart of our prayer is the Eucharist, in which we share with other Christians the renewal of our union with our Lord and Saviour in his sacrifice, remembering his death and receiving his spiritual food.

-       From the Principles  of the Third Order, Society of St Francis

Already -  as I began the slow process of personalising the order's rule  to fit my circumstances  - I could see it shaping my decisions and way of life.  This is where the poultice image really speaks to me, I think.  During the last  months or so at Oldchurch, that limbo time where I withdrew from all that I'd been involved in in that community, piece by painful piece, both mentally and in actuality, the one straw I clung to, if you like, was Holy Communion.  It was the one constant, a place where I could try, at least to simply 'be' with God.  To let God draw out the poison.  It's an apt analogy. Funnily enough, in some writing I did for 'Newchurch' I've likened them to a sticking plaster - a giant one; a reference to the space I've been given to just 'be' without too many (or any!) demands or expectations.  A place where we embody the love of  Christ. Well, most of the time, anyway! And yes, the Eucharist is celebrated. 

 

 

 

 

 

Rule of Life

It's that time of year  - when all Franciscan tertiaries are called upon to reflect on, review, and maybe revise their Rule of Life prior to renewal at Francistide in October. Judging by my own experience, the idea and purpose  of a 'rule' isn't always easy to explain to others; the very word has negative undertones to many. I've often found it easier to think of it more as a kind of trellis, or, as Chris Erdman puts it in his great series on the Rule of St Benedict a regula, a guide. Do visit, if you've not already discovered his site; there are some wonderful insights there. Especially his daily guide, well worth lingering over in prayer, mere reading isn't enough.

You called?

 "In an  age of a nuclear overkill, climate change and global poverty, Francis and his rule for his community, first shaped 800 years ago in 1209, continue to call us back again to the true values of Christian community and lifestyle." (Patrick Comerford)

Thanks to Mike F of the Mercy Blog for pointing to Canon Patrick Comerford's recent addresses on Franciscan vocation: Saint Francis: Lifestyle for today? and Saint Francis: Community life for today?

Travelling light

As the picture above shows, the last part of Lent has seen the Greenpatches packing their backpacks and taking off for exotic climes. The last few weeks have seen our epic joint 50th birthday trip to Paris and Venice, more details of which can be found  over on my other blog. (Never let it be said that I don't take my cultural education seriously!). Mr GP is even as I type, taking off for a week of cycle training in Majorca, and I've clocked up the miles visiting St John's, Nottingham, Golders Green and sunny Coventry.

We were agreeable surprised at how  'untouristy' Venice was . Yes,  there were the inevitable  crowds on  the water buses and in places like St Mark's Square, but otherwise, there was plenty of space and loads of little streets and alleyways that you could explore (and get lost in) to  your heart's content.  Where there was a square, there was always a cafe (or three) a couple of churches and numerous little shops to wander round, so both Mr GP and I were happy. And, of course, for those nosey so and so's...people watchers amongst us, all you had to do was sit down with a coffee for an hour or so and half the world seemed to pass by.

Churchwise, I'll admit to being a bit of a 'philistine.'  Beautiful though they might be, I find there are only so many tombs and gloomy looking statues I can take before I start to suffer from spiritual indigestion. And in those which had a Franciscan foundation originally, I found it hard to reconcile the sheer ornateness of the interiors with the simplicity of its founder. I can remember my frustration in one, when having finally tracked the little Franciscan chapel down I found it roped off and alarmed. But for all that, and even with camera toting tourists abounding, I still found  some calm and  peace in the midst of the hustle and bustle of the city.

Paradoxically, St Mark's was the only place I didn't have to pay to get into, as my visit was not long before closing time once the queues had started to die down -  and I only visited the main part of the basilica. Unlike some of  the other places, I could see this as a place of worship rather than as a kind of religious museum. I'd love to see it after dark, lit by candlelight.  Mass was being said off to the side as we were wandering round. I paused for a few minutes, and though my Italian is practically non-existent, yet I had no difficulty following the liturgy. Timeless. This, I think brought the visit alive for me more than anything else.  As at the souvenir stall when I succeeded in spotting a lone tau cross amongst alll the glitter. The poor women next to me got treated to a babble of excited exclamations in rusty French - my default language when English isn't an option. She took it remarkably well considering. After all, it's not everyday you find Francis!

Seabirding down the Franciscan path

 

Before I get a flood of comments informing me the above picture is of a stork, not a seagull - yes, I know. But in absence of a suitable gull, I'm sure we can all stretch a point - and our collective imaginations, for a few minutes whilst I explain the connection between birdwatching and my Franciscan wanderings.

Not long after I started down the tertiary path, we were away for the weekend with a group of folk who included a  lay Dominican to-be, who knew a bit about    my ummings and ahhings - mostly from reading my other blog. I was more reticent about my explorations back then. You know what it's like, I'm sure - when you're not certain yourself what you're about or aiming towards, and are half-scared that if you make any of it public, others will burst out in helpless laughter at best, or at worst...well, I'm not sure what I thought would happen.  A bolt of lightning from the Almighty, maybe? Hence  on said blog, TSSF was referred to as the 'C' word - aka 'commitment' a concept that hasn't always come naturally to me. So there we all were in the pub when R says something that sounds  like "I must take the chance to talk to GP about the seabird." Seabird?! O.K. I know that my hearing is none too good in crowded, noisy settings, but still...what on earth possessed them to think I wanted nothing but a cosy  ornithological chat? It took a good ten minutes or so for the proverbial penny to drop, and even then, we had great fun on the way home playing guessing games with the others as to what exactly this 'C' word was!

So, 'Seabird' it was. And has forever afterwards remained in 'blogdom' at least. I'm still a quiet, retiring sort of bird, though now more through natural shyness than hesitancy  about the rightness of the path I'm travelling.  Of the latter, I'm most definitely certain - even if the flight's not been easy, with patches of turbulence along the way. So, stork, seabird, whatever you want to call it, I'm looking forward to profession in about six month's time.

'Genie, wake up...

'and smell the humus!,'  bleats Robin Williams in the Disney epic, 'Aladdin.'  To which I'd add the warning, 'But don't trip over the doormat on the way out!.'  I can't recall  who or what had caught him out , though I've happy memories of our then four-year old son's virtuoso imitation of Mr William's performance (more little blue Smurf than giant genie!).   I just remember our gales of laughter as the  keeper of the lamp suddenly  swells up to thrice his size in righteous indignation,  as suddenly realises his mistake  and...oops!   As his  pomposity (and his ego) is punctured mid-stream, RW dwindles into an 'ever so 'umble' yet endearing puddle of gooey sheepishness. And don't we just  love him for it!

Well, yes... I remember referring to this 'inverse self-presentation' in one of my earliest posts on this blog - quoting from Susan Pichford's writings on 'Verbal anesthesia - or 'What's your mask?'  Humility, what is it? How do you know you possess it? And by definition, if you think you're displaying it, surely that then means that you can't possibly be as humble as you think you are. (I can hear Uriah Heep knocking at the door as I type!). Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. What a tangle we get ourselves into at times.

Any road on, if you feel inclined to follow the tangle further, do take yourself over here.  I've recently completed another of those  forms  where you reflect on how you're managing to follow the Franciscan way, hence  the topic is one which looms large in my thinking at the moment.  I'm sure we would love to make ourselves out to be possessed of such humble qualities that onlookers can spot the duraglit on our  invisible halos from several hundred yards.  Sadly, however, I fear that for  most of us:

Humility is what nips you in the ankle when you start dropping hints about the good things you've done that nobody's noticed yet.

(My thanks to 'Pimple' for allowing me to use this quote!)