Chill with the Still

I first became interested in meditation way back in the 1970’s. I was a newly qualified Mental Health worker (RMN) and I’d just landed a plumb job in a pioneering mental health unit in Derby. My first task was to develop a meditation/relaxation program with the aim of helping people become less reliant on tranquilisers and anti-depressants and more able to cope using natural cognitive methods. This was pioneering work back in the day and we found much resistance from Psychiatrists who seemed more intent on pushing drugs that tended to mask the problems rather than solve them. Arguably, these days we have a more enlightened approach to mental health care, and although resources are even scarcer than ever in the NHS, cognitive therapy and mindfulness meditation are now commonplace treatments as they are cheap to administer and effective for many people suffering from anxiety and depression. I also began to regularly meditate at this time using Hindu and Buddhist methods and I found them to be very helpful both for my own personal health and wellbeing but also in my work as a therapist. I have continued to meditate on a daily basis since that time. However in the 1990’s I came across a Christian form of meditation that was very much like the Eastern methods I had been using, but that was firmly grounded in the Christian monastic tradition, and coming from a Christian background I naturally warmed to this way of meditating.
After being diagnosed with Fibromyalgia last year, the doctor told me the condition could possibly be helped by a course of cognitive therapy and mindfulness meditation. As I was already well versed in both therapies, it was very much a case of ‘physician heal thyself’ (Luke 4:23) and I began to ‘set to’ by attending a couple of Cognitive Behaviour Therapy courses and deepening further my lifelong interest in meditation.
The nearest meditation group I knew of was down at the Buddhist Centre in Nottingham They hold a twice weekly lunchtime ‘drop in’ session for people of all faiths and none. The groups they run are really good but it was a long way for me to travel and they drive a different type of vehicle from my own. I started looking for a Christian meditation group in the local area and thanks to Susie Booth from St Edmunds I was introduced to a group based at St Marks in Mansfield who were using mainly Ignatian methods of prayer and meditation in the ‘Kataphatic’ tradition rather than the ‘Apophatic’ method I was used to.
Apophatic, Kataphatic? - these are strange and unfamiliar terms to many Christians but to put it simply, Kataphatic meditation uses thoughts, images and guided scenarios, and Apophatic meditation transcends our thoughts and seeks a direct experience of God. Most Christians are comfortable with the former but find the later much more challenging, unfamiliar, and even scary. On finding no group in this area that was practicing Apophatic meditation I decided to start one of my own! After all I was a qualified mental health worker, with a first class honours degree in religion and healing arts, and with 40 years’ experience as a meditator, I reckoned I had enough of a track record, or so I thought. I ought to have realised that when it comes to meditation we are all perpetual beginners and we have to seek afresh the divine presence every day, (using what the Zen Buddhists call, ‘a beginners mind’). Also I learned quite quickly that this type of meditation is much more familiar to the ‘general’ public than it is to the ‘general’ Christian, particularly up in this part of the world!
Apophatic meditation of all styles is particularly effective in calming down the thoughts that arise involuntarily in the mind, what meditators often describe as ‘the monkey mind’. These thoughts are mainly self-referential ego related thoughts such as – ‘I’ve got to remember to do so and so’, ‘I’ve got to make sure I don’t forget that’, ‘they must think I’m mad, or that I was born yesterday’, what a fool I’ve been’, I shouldn’t have said that’ etc.- They can often be much worse, for example when we criticise and judge others in order to make ourselves feel better and more superior, (the ‘he/she/they/them’ variety). Apophatic meditation, cognitive therapy and mindfulness have proved to be very effective in helping those with low self-regard, anxiety and depression, alcoholism and drug addiction, who will often go to almost any length to escape their destructive self- critical and negative thoughts.
However, in the past 50 years or so many hundreds of thousands of Christians throughout the world have discovered the benefits of apophatic meditation that has been a central part of the monastic traditions since at least the 3rd century CE. They value it for both the physical and psychological benefits, but even more importantly, to develop a deeper experience and awareness of the presence of God. Groups like the ‘World Community for Christian Meditation’, and the Trappist led ‘Centering Prayer Movement’ continue to grow at a phenomenal rate, and authors from these groups like Laurence Freeman, and Cynthia Bourgeault, sell books on Christian meditation in their ‘shed loads’- (search online any of these tags to find out more).
Earlier this year I started holding a regular meditation group at the Park Centre here in Mansfield Woodhouse where I live.. I began by offering a course on ‘The Cloud of Unknowing’, a 14th century book on meditation written by an anonymous indigenous monk from the East Midlands of England. This ancient manual on apophatic prayer has been very influential on developing my own style of meditation and so I thought it might be a good place to start. As the group has progressed however, it has evolved into more of a support group for those who have already had a taste of meditation, often via the NHS/College cognitive mindfulness course that they run, and also from encounters with other spiritual traditions.
I am planning to run another lot weekly support style groups again, starting in the autumn. These will focus primarily on encouraging people in their meditation and offering support rather than focusing on specific methods. These open, inclusive, multi-faith sessions are free/gratis and open to all. Meanwhile just remember, ‘If you need to chill, come and be still!’
A quick start guide to meditating
• Sit comfortably and close your eyes
• Mentally scan your body for any tension, (esp. face and shoulders).
• Using the default word ‘one’ begin to say it silently and slowly in your mind. (You can choose your own personal word that is sacred to you, or that evokes a sense of love, peace, or calmness later on*)
• Whenever distractions appear (thoughts, aches and pains, noises etc.) allow them to simply fall away, and gently return to silently saying your word without any strain or tension.
• This is the ‘deal’ - 10 000 times you may be distracted = 10 001 opportunities to return to saying your word. It’s that simple but it’s not easy! But even if you ‘zone out’ for a long time you have not failed because your intention, or will, has been to honour ‘the deal’. You are still meditating – so no guilt or feelings of failure that you are doing it wrong, this only adds to the noise of the distractions.
• After 15 or 20 minutes (or longer) gradually stop saying your word and just sit for a while before you stretch and open your eyes.
*Some suggestions – “Abba” (‘Father’, also mark of respect for an older man or teacher- Aramaic) -“Amma” (‘mother’, also mark of respect for older woman or teacher - Aramaic) - ‘Bless-ed’, (said as two syllables) - “Amen”, (meaning ‘so be it’ or ‘let it be’- pronounced ah-men) – “Shanti” (Hindu word for ‘tranquillity’) –“Santi” (Buddhist word for ‘tranquillity’) – “Shalom” (Hebrew greeting meaning ‘peace’) – “Salaam” (Muslim greeting meaning ‘peace’)- “Seetal” (Sikh word meaning ‘peaceful, calm, contented’

Ye Olde Forde Anglican *

I’ve been musing a lot about the olde Forde Anglican vehicle that I use to get around and whether or not it ought to be allowed to quietly decay and its framework put to some other use, maybe as a Community Centre, Mosque, Gurdwara, Museum, or Music and Arts venue.

The thing is that my olde Forde Anglican banger seems like a perfectly good - yay magnificent - vehicle to take me forward in my own personal spiritual growth, and although many of my neighbours have swapped their old Jalopy’s in for a New Age, Evangelical, Mega Church, deluxe model, I think there is a lot of life still left in the cranky old motor yet.

These old vehicles were built to last, and although most Anglicans don’t realise the full depth and breadth of these ancient means of transportation, the quality still shines through for those who take time to examine the weathered log book and take a look close look underneath at the robust chassis.

Not only do we have a fine example of an authentic apostolic mainstream Christian vehicle, (complete with its own Constantinian Imperial death cult interior). It also has a secret esoteric Gnostic glove compartment and it sports some of the finest European Pagan folk traditional body work still to be found in the western world.

As far as I’m concerned all it needs is a bit of a tinker and tweak from a qualified Quantum Mechanic and a dab or two of ‘Global Wisdom, and Inter-Faith Praxis, Fibreglass filler’, and it can soon be back on the road, chugging along magnificently, even better than new.

The trouble is do we really know what a rich treasure we have? And will old crates like these be allowed to continue to rot and decay in our towns and villages because we don’t have the vision to see what a beautiful mode of transport they can still turn out to be? If only we could get rid of our jaundiced view of what they once were, and see the vast potential they still have to provide a usefully practical and reliant run-around, well able to transport our spiritually hungry children around. This is of course providing we can first make the effort to treat them to a huge dose of tender loving care; wash them down thoroughly with a few buckets of deep empathy; and then carefully buff them up with a huge amount of heart felt tolerance and ‘deep shine’ understanding. And I'm not just talking about the Children!

So, anyone up for a bit of old vehicle restoration?

* for those born after 1984 the title of this blog is a parody of the name of an old auto called 'the Ford Anglia'.

A Cold Bedroom Estate

The residents of Park Hall, Mansfield Woodhouse (where I live) have lost the appeal by Barratts Builders to build a bedroom estate at the back of us. I was so disappointed I put pen to paper and wrote this song (to the tune of 'when a knight won his spurs in the stories of old').

They’re building a city at the back of our yard,
Well ain’t it a pity, life’s gonna be hard,
For the Hedgehog and Bats and the Buzzard and Fowl,
They’re building a city so, to hell with the Owl.
A Suburban city is this what we dream,
As we all wait in line for the Planner Man’s scheme?
Dying to turn into poor mortgage slaves?
At four percent interest till we rot in our graves.
. There once was a time when the rent it was fair,
And we all had a house from the Council to share,
Till along came the bullies and Barrister men,
The Corporate Cannibals have done it again.
You can call me a ‘Nimby’- ‘Not in My Back Yard,’
But what’s wrong with that when we’re making life hard,
For the Badgers and Field Mice and old ancient trees,
Providing a home for the birds and the Bees.
The Town Centre is empty, the shops boarded up,
The Buskers and Beggars gone off with their cups,
To the Big shopping Malls, built out on the edge,
Where there’s much richer pickings for those on the beg
So here’s to the queues at the junctions and lights,
And frustrated drivers and more road rage fights,
The old and disabled can ne’er cross the road,
And that’s not to mention the Frog and the Toad.
They’re calling it ‘Netherton’ up on the gate,
To my mind it's just a cold Bedroom Estate,’
And here come the diggers, and here come the trucks,
They’re in it for profit so who gives a Fox!
They're in it for profit so who gives a Fox!

Jim

I often think what would happen if Jesus walked into our church on a Sunday evening and sat at the back. This time round he’s a homeless addict and drinker called ‘Jim’ (Jesus in me). He has mild hyperthermia, he’s strung out, and hungry, with no family to speak of, and he doesn’t really know anyone in these parts… and what’s more, he smells horrible!

What would I say to Jim if he came and sat next to me? How do I imagine he would react when he begins to get his bearings and realise that all the pomp and drama, and all the choruses and hymns we were singing, were actually all about him? Would he become even more paranoid, or just bemused by the way he has become such a legend in his own lunchtime, such a huge legend in fact, that the lady at the front, in the robes and dog collar, is shouting out that he is the ‘King of the Universe’ and the ‘Son of God’ and all that malarkey.

Jim remembers that long ago in a previous life he used to yell in the street, ‘I and the Father are one’ and other crazy junk like that. He used to reckon he was made of the same stuff as God, but no-one understood that he was trying to be inclusive when he was ranting about things like that, and deep down he just wanted folk to feel what he was feeling, overflowing with love. That’s the way he had always felt deep in his heart and all he wanted was for everyone around him to be just like one big happy family.

Jim knew what it was like when people heard him chanting his God talk in town, ‘I am the Son of God’, or ‘before the world was created ‘I AM!’ In fact he once jumped off a multi-story car park and broke both his legs because he thought he was divine and could fly… (Something about the angels saving him if he tripped and fell over, or ran in front of a line of fast moving traffic) - So he thought he’d put that theory to the test. Huge mistake! They ‘sectioned’ him after that episode, and injected him with Largactil, a nasty drug that twisted up his body and turned his face into a mask. He thought he’d learned that lesson a couple of light years ago when they whipped him in the street and nailed him to a cross. They said he had learning difficulties – ‘there’s nothing as sure as that’ he would say to himself.

So here he was, in this creepy old church full of dead men’s bones. He remembers meeting an old geezer sitting on a bench outside who told him that there were the remains of 5 000 corpses, buried over 900 years, in the graveyard. Not to mention others concealed beneath the floor and in the crypt of the church. Jim decided it was best not to start thinking about all that medieval spooky ‘woo woo’ stuff and focus instead on what’s going on at the front. But now the woman in the robes was holding up some bread and saying ‘this is my body eat it’ and then she held up a glass of wine and said ‘this is my blood, drink it’. ‘Oh my Gosh,’ he thought, ‘is this some kind of secret man-eating death cult?’ ‘I’m a celebrity get me out of here!’-

But he reckoned it might be worth sticking around for the sandwiches, coffee and cakes. The old bloke had told him there would be free nosh on offer after the show finished: “It might be a good idea to put some grub in me before I get my Methadone from the night chemist and settle down in the subway for the night. You know it’s getting more and more difficult to find places to crash nowadays. They’re laying spikes and metal studs and all sorts of crap in all the best sleeping spots, and they’re even making the bus shelter benches slope downwards so you can’t lay on them. What’s that all about, and who are ‘they’ anyway? I’ve always wondered about that – Some people reckon there are Shape-shifting reptilian aliens controlling the world! “Here I go again with all that ‘spooky woo woo’ stuff - shut your face Jim,” he said to himself..

“And now there’s a band warming up on stage, and the dude at the front is shouting, ‘we don’t do boring in this house’ and they crank up a song and everyone’s singing and dancing and holding up their hands in the air for some strange reason, ‘I’m down here mate’ was what Jim was thinking, but anyway. “I didn’t know any of the songs, so I just stood there and took in the vibe. I felt a nice tingle down the back of my neck that turned into something like a waterfall flowing over me. What did they put in that wine?’ Whatever they’d spiked it with it was pretty powerful stuff. Suddenly I saw my life flash before me, all those hard knocks I’d been given as well as all the good times. All of it seemed to be working together to bring me to this point. It felt like I was on a mountain top, in a totally clear space and I was free again. No more fear, no more guilt, no more tense feeling in my shoulders and back, just the impression I was floating two foot off the ground with the sensation of pure love pulsing through my veins. In my mind’s eye I saw all my old mates and ex’s who seemed to be lost in a fog, just like I had been not a second before. They all looked so sad and it seemed as if they were looking around for something magical to happen, for some kind of miracle, something to take away all the fear and pain. And then I realised for the first time in an aeon that I was completely ‘myself’- my eternal self, my genuine soul. I no longer wanted to follow in the footsteps of my hero and trickster friends, imitating what they were doing just to fit in and be liked. Now I was just being me, just Jim. Now I know exactly what I’ve got to do for the rest of my life. I’m going to go out there and try and make the world a better place, it’s that simple. I don’t know all the details yet but I get the feeling that I’ll be able to download all that stuff as and when I need it. But I know this one thing, that whatever happens from now on, through the good times and the bad, with all the love I feel inside me, right here, right now, it’s all going to work out fine, I just know it”.

“Sh*t! Jim said to himself, does this mean that I’m a Christian now? Oh man, how the hell did that happen? Well I guess at the end of the day that’s for the experts to discuss and decide. The only thing my science teacher used to say that made any sense to me is. ‘X is an unknown quantity and spurt is a volume of liquid forced through a small aperture’. It’s not my problem Bud, so I’m not going to worry”.

“Me? - I’m Just Jim mate, fancy a cuppa?”

Ruff intro to my book that is coming along nicely thanks

This collection of blogs and essays includes material that began life back in 2004 as a book called ‘the Aqua Course’ a parody of the Evangelical ‘Alpha Course’ doing the rounds in many churches at the time and that is still very popular as a way of promulgating a literal reading of the Holy Scriptures to people who are interested in becoming a certain type of Christian. I began working on this book around 2 years after I graduated from Derby University with a 2.1 in Religion Culture and Belief and Healing Arts, a combined study program. Although I enjoyed the 3 years I spent at Derby, one of the best times of my life, I no longer could financially afford to stay in academia and I continued to teach in schools and community settings and perform as a kit drummer and vocalist both in the UK and on the continent, something I had been doing fairly successfully previous to my studies.

The Aqua Course quickly became a vehicle to continue my studies in spirituality and healing arts without having to conform to the constraints necessary to achieve an M.A. or Doctorate, and while my abilities as a student would never be honed sufficiently to break new ground in either religious studies or complementary medicine, it felt natural to continue the learning process with the tools I had acquired in academia but with the freedom to roam wherever I wished.

Although I abandoned the Aqua Course title fairly soon, due to its provocative title, and not really wishing to enter into a skirmish with my Evangelical brethren. I tried many other ways to organise the topics I wanted to explore but without much success. I was still writing and researching a great deal however, and as the internet, the virtual ‘Web of Wyrd’, became greater and more accessible I soon started to gobble up all the weird and wonderful material I found there, collecting data and trying to make sense of all the crazy conspiracy theories and speculations and such. After the initial intoxication I felt after drinking in the outpourings of kindred souls like David Icke, Graham Hancock, Tom Campbell, and Michael Tsarion et al, I felt that I needed to focus on one or two areas that I knew something about rather than try to make sense of the whole crazy bag ‘o mashins.. To make it more digestible, I began to explore the relationship between Christianity and the indigenous Shamanism of the British and Irish Isles, with a view to enriching my own faith as a Christo-Pagan Anglican and meanwhile finding out what my place might be in the general scheme of things, especially as it is emerging post 2012, which seems to have indeed been a significant milestone in the raising of ‘low entropy consciousness’, as the great Tom Campbell calls it.

2012 was definitely a significant milestone in my own life’s journey. As it happened I suffered a near terminal heart attack and stroke in May of that year, and after spending 3 weeks in a coma and many more weeks in intensive care travelling in and out of states of lucid dreaming, I emerged with a new status, that I couldn’t name at first, but that I ended up recognising as that of a ‘full-time Anarcho-Anglican Shaman’!

Physically I was left with the after effects of a stroke and a strange condition known as Fibromyalgia, caused by the trauma, as well as severe breathlessness brought on by a lung condition called Empyema. And to top it all my severally depleted heart muscle was eventually kept going by a computerised pacemaker that has now turned me into a trans-human digital cyborg.

Spiritually however, I seemed to grow in leaps and bounds, having the time now to devote to meditating, creating, writing, and studying in a way that I was never able to do in my previous life as a jobbing musician and teacher. Tragically much of my ability as a musician has left me and I can no longer cope with the rigours of classroom or peripatetic teaching but at least my consciousness keeps kicking in and I continue to be able to express myself moderately well. I have not been given a clear prognosis and I have no idea how long I will continue in this life with my condition, but my brush with death and my current physical limitations seems to have sharpened my spiritual eye and I am able to focus with a penetrating intensity on the things that really matter to me both spiritually and in my day to day relationships with friends and relations and my various acquaintances.

The question now was what to do with the book? What I had written before my heart breakdown seemed to me to be too didactic and focused on dogma rather than on praxis and the development of low entropy loving action. Also I wanted to have fun with what I write, and allow my creative juices to flow more sweetly. What little music I now make is taking on a similar quality and both disciplines are now merging with my personal shamanesque praxis that is in turn enriching my ‘ordinary’ life as a progressive Anglican Christian participating in the life of my local parish church, attending the communion service, playing Bass guitar in the worship band, and coaching a small weekly meditation group among other things.

What is now emerging is what I hope is a fresh and weightless way of writing, at least to my mind, partly helped along by the discovery of the ‘Blog’, (or web log as it is officially called for the non-web literate). Although it is often narcissistic in nature, the blog and the tweet have become powerful ways to share our thoughts and feelings and to get ‘it’ all out there. The fact that everyone is blogging and not so many are reading or listening is beside the point…a powerful communication is potentially taking place that can be used for either good or ill and there is a freedom about it that borders on the anarchic. My fear however is that the Archons, the controllers of the Military/Industrial banking Empires that try to keep us all enslaved to their debt based economy (or conversely the terror based organisation seemingly opposed to the Empire), will soon censure, infect with viruses, or even pull the plug on the free sharing of data, so that we will be left with an even more profound spiritual wasteland than that which existed before the arrival of the digital age. All the more reason, I say, to write it all out on parchment, paper, wood and stone, and through works of art and architecture, in order to leave a legacy for future generations to discover. The digital data we produce is still too vulnerable, in my opinion, to withstand the solar storms, comets, ice ages, and human interference for it to be a lasting record of the spiritual consciousness and cultural developments that have been produced by un-common people in the 21st century. So let us make hay while the sun still shines and meanwhile leave a codex or two in a jar in some cave for a future generation to discover before the robots turn us into Duracell energy sources.

What remains here is a collection of randomly connected blogs and short essays born out of my own experience and research, focusing on ideas and praxis that have made sense to me over the past 50 years or so. If they make any sense to you, then that’s great, if not leave it be and move on…maybe it will make some sense further on down the line, maybe not.

My Identity status is full of craters

Been spending the gorgeous summer we’ve had, mainly at home coming to terms with my new status as a ‘full-time Shaman’. I’ve been sitting out as much as I can in an old-fashioned Deck Chair reading books on the science of Spirituality from such authors as Tom Campbell and Graham Hancock, listening to great ‘World Music’ compilation CD’s that have arrived through my door with the awesome ‘Songlines’ music magazine, and generally trying to heal myself of my various ailments both mental and physical out in the sun and down among the plants and weeds. As Confucius is said to have once uttered; ‘If anyone could be said to have affected proper order while remaining inactive it was ‘Shun’. What was there for him to do? – He simply made himself respectful and took up his position facing south’.

Went to a talk last night by respected journalist Seumas Milne about the dodgy dealings of the British Establishment during and after the Miner’s strike of 1984/5. I didn’t think for one minute that I would experience such powerful emotions and sense the presence of so many departed old souls crowded round among the rafters of the Old Library in Mansfield, hovering there above the few living heroes of the strike action who staggered up to the rostrum to tell breathless stories from the way back days. That night I dreamt of my old school friend Ian (‘Army’) Armstrong who worked at Bentinck Pit, Back in the 1990’s I met him at a Miner’s Welfare in Sutton when I was playing a gig with my old band ‘Monkey Business’. He told me that he was one of the few strikers to stay out till the end and recounted some of the crazy antics he got up to including throwing chunks of paving slabs onto the coaches carrying Scabs to work from off motorway bridges. You never knew how much ‘Army’ was bullshitting when he told you such tales but he was certainly capable of such diabolical acts. In my dream I was showing him a book of Seumas’s called ‘The Enemy Within’ and explaining how little any of us knew at the time, and indeed how little we realise while anything is currently ‘going off’, just what underhanded skulduggery goes on in the corridors of power. It’s only later, when it’s usually too late, that it all starts to come out in the wash. Sadly ‘Army’ died not long after that after falling down a flight of stairs after having too much to drink, at least that’s what I heard.

When we were at school we were given a career talk by some reps from what was then called the British Coal Board, and we were told that we could be guaranteed a job for 50 years if we chose mining as a career. We were also told by our teacher that we would all be working a three day week and our biggest problem would be how to fill our leisure time, Both predictions were wrong even though there is still plenty of coal to be mined and there is no reason at all why we couldn’t share the work out more evenly between us all if we were all paid a decent wage.

I spent a year or so during my trouble d teenage years working both above and below ground in the Coal industry before I ‘got out’ and travelled these Isles looking for alternative ways of living my life. I spent about 2 years ‘dossing’ ‘on the road’ laying on beaches and tripping at festivals, sleeping under hedgerows, and in derelict houses and crashing on the floors of grubby makeshift communes. In those days in the early 1970’s we still believed in the Hippy ethic of sharing our last crust and because of this I think we fared far better than homeless street people do in this day and age.

At the talk I found myself sitting next to a bloke whose voice and appearance seemed familiar and I realised later that he was one of the main guys who ran the Mushroom Bookshop in Nottingham back in the day. We chatted about the shop and other ‘radical’ bookshops like ‘Compendium’ in Camden, ‘Forum’ in Derby, and ‘Scarthin Books’ in Cromford, all places where I found books that guided me in new directions that changed my life and shaped my thinking in profound ways. Before the internet this was about the only way you could become exposed to the kind of Spiritual teachings I deeply craved without taking yourself off to some ashram in Rishikesh or somewhere. At bookshops like these I found works of wisdom by the likes of Alan Watts, Matthew Fox, Timothy Freke, Peter Gandy, Elaine Pagels, and Karen Armstrong -books that helped to deliver me from of the Spiritual abuse I suffered among the Pentecostal Christian Fundamentalists I encountered in my youth. Like a Homeopathic remedy these writings acted sympathetically to empower me with the wisdom to face my fears of Hell Fire and damnation and to discover that deep down among the toxic doctrines lay hidden teachings of great beauty and power that could be extracted and transformed via a magical alchemical process into a genuine Spirituality to live your life by.

Autumn’s now kicking in major big time with old hurricanes passing through.. Time to batten down the hatches and get a pile of books to study over the winter months. Just discovered a new author to me.. ‘Geza Vermes’ who is one of the world’s leading authorities on early Christianity and the Dead Sea Scrolls. He seems to have a pretty clear perspective on how the mainstream ‘Jesus Movement’ grew over the first 3 centuries and much of what he writes about is confirming what I already suspect went on during Christianity’s development from the teachings of a Charismatic Jewish prophet to becoming the primary ‘death cult’ of the Holy Roman Empire.

Recent article I had in parish magazine feb 2014

Happy to be, ‘C of E’.

When I was a child great importance was given by the institutions I attended regarding what religion I was and the modern census form still has the 'Religious Question' though a growing number of people now choose to answer it 'Jedi Knight'. Most of us at our local Secondary Modern school were considered to be ‘C of E’ (Church of England, Anglican or Episcopalian). Of course there was the occasional ‘strange’ kid who was Catholic or Jewish but most English lads and lasses were C of E, even if they never actually went to church. All this is far removed from the situation we find ourselves in today where many classrooms have more Sikh, Hindu, and Muslim pupils than Christian, (let alone C of E’s). As I get older I have found myself wanting to celebrate once again my own spiritual roots in the Church of England and yet at the same time I can’t help questioning why, when many people no longer see the relevance of going to Church and are letting their allegiances lapse, I find myself moving in the opposite direction.

First a brief mention of my background and story. I am a musician, artist, and music and R.E. teacher who has recently retired through ill health and moved back to the area where I grew up. I was baptised as a child at Skegby St Andrews and attended St Werburghs Church in Derby as a young adult before moving on to explore the more exotic Spiritualities of the East and in particular Buddhist and Hindu forms of meditation and praxis (practical ethics & behaviour). I have a degree in Religion Culture & Belief from the University of Derby (2001) and I have taught for almost 20 years at Belper High School as well as spending a considerable amount of time as a Community Musician, Drummer, and Performing Artist working throughout Europe as well as locally in the East Midlands area. All this changed dramatically in 2010 when my mother, Mrs Betty Wright, passed away. She had been a resident of Woodhouse for many years and I had returned to the area to live and support her in her later years. This change in my personal life was further exacerbated by some serious health issues of my own where I suffered a series of heart attacks and strokes that have resulted in me having to retire from both teaching and performing for a living.

Long before these events though, back the mid 1990’s I went through a personal epiphany when I began to discover that the methods of meditation I had been practicing in a Buddhist and Hindu context could also be found within the Christian tradition, and I began a long pilgrimage back to the Christian Church to embrace once again the ‘Baby’ I had almost thrown out with bathwater. However this 'Prodigal Son' journey also raised certain questions such as, ‘why the Church of England when there are so many other Christian denominations out there I could belong to?’ and ‘What’s so special about the established ‘Establishment’ Church that makes it unique and potentially attractive to those seeking a dynamic Spirituality in the 21st century?’ Along with these questions came the accompanying feeling that it all seemed on a par with which football team I should follow- Derby County, Nottingham Forest, or Mansfield Town, or the Catholics, Baptists, or the ‘Happy Clappy’ lot that worship down at the local Community centre? This conundrum has led me to create a list of reasons why I feel personally drawn to supporting my local ‘C of E’ parish church of St Edmunds, rather than any other. I realise that my own reasons for doing this may be very different from your own, should you be a church attendee, but I hope that this list will at the very least be thought provoking but may also encourage a renewed commitment to faith whether you are a church goer or not.

1) A Broad and Tolerant Church – Far from being a weakness as some would maintain, the fact that the C of E attempts to tolerate and celebrate believers from such diverse backgrounds as the Gay and Lesbian community on the one hand and Charismatic and Literalist Fundamentalist groups on the other is to be thoroughly applauded in my opinion, and the growth of women Priests and women Bishops, has begun to bring a much needed feminine perspective down into our local worship and community life. Also the recent move away from a literalist reading of the scriptures by some scholars like John Hick and Don Cupit is also a factor that appeals to my intellect. and other Christian writers like Matthew Fox, Karen Armstrong, Francis Spufford and Elaine Pagels, though not all Anglicans, have helped me formulate a faith that that is starting to challenge current ways of thinking and is carving a new mark on our post-modern largely atheistic society. Never heard of any of these writers? Go to Google and check 'em out, you might be amazed at what's being debated these days.

2) Local to the Community – In England at least, the Anglican Church is at the Spiritual heart of the local community, and it is the ‘One Stop Shop’ that we go to in times of need, and to remember our fallen and deceased as well as marry, be Christened and do stuff like co-ordinate our local food bank. One thing we are not short of in the UK is a wide variety of Christian denominations – (over 340 according to UK Church Statistics, 2005-2015.) - and it would be nice to think that in a future age we could bring our doctrinal and political differences to the alter and utilise the wonderful but often neglected and under used, Anglican church buildings that exist at the heart of our towns and villages and engage once more in common worship as one church under Christ on these Isles – The Church ‘in’ England, rather than the Church ‘of’ England.

3) Indigenous to the Isles – Although formed as part of the Protestant reaction to the abuses of the Roman Church but also fired by some dubious political motives engendered by the Tudor dynasty in the 16th century, the C of E nevertheless has a strong connection with the ‘Celtic’ Church that originally emerged on these Isles that in turn was closely related to the earliest indigenous Pagan and ‘Druidic’ beliefs and culture.

4) Pagan Elements – Neo-Paganism is one of the fastest growing new religious movements in the Western world, (and by ‘West’ I mean a certain mindset rather than a geographical region – Australia and New Zealand for example are about as ‘Eastern’ as one can get geographically and yet clearly operate from a Western philosophical perspective). Many pre Christian rites and practices were continued by Christian communities on the Isles many of which remain to this day. The visual arts were represented by the use of the Chi Rho; a pictogram of Christ represented as both the gods Apollo and Jupiter; various types of crosses like the equal lengthen solar cross; the Vesica Pisces (fish symbol); and religious icons and statues of the saints were all borrowed from pagan iconography. Churches adopted the design of ancient Heathen temples that were often founded on original Pagan sacred sites. The vestments of priests and monks and hair styles (tonsure) were adapted from pagan fashions of the time. Processions and pilgrimages, wedding customs, baptismal rites, the Chrism, Eucharist, and the veneration of holy wells were adapted from Pagan customs, and magic and healing arts like herbalism, crystal healing, divination, the use of charms, and other forms of naturopathic medicine continued on into the Christian era. The Pagan days of the week, months and seasons, and feasts and holy days, persisted often with the original names and purposes remaining intact - though many were later adapted to conform to later Christian beliefs. Perhaps now is the time to celebrate the obvious fact that British Christianity has Pagan DNA running right through it and we should heartily embrace our Pagan cousins who are currently seeking to re-discover our earliest forms of folk religion on these Isles.

5) Authority and Ancient Heritage – Finally the C of E has ancient Apostolic roots and a system of authority that has helped to guard it against abuse and maverick teachings as well as provide a rich legacy of music, visual art, architecture, worship and praxis that continues to outshine and outlive all attempts by our popular culture - with its simplistic outlook and flash technology - to override it.

This list is by no means exhaustive but provides, in my mind at any rate, a sufficient basis for pledging a personal allegiance to the Anglican Communion, not because I think that ‘my’ church and faith is better than any other - in the same way I might feel about a football team or nation state or culture - but primarily because I feel the C of E simply represents ‘my’ own personal culture and faith. Had I been born for instance in Afghanistan to Muslim parentage I would no doubt feel quite different about these allegiances. By celebrating our own uniqueness and allowing others their own right to do the same we can help to resist the seemingly unstoppable corporate global march towards mass conformity and uniformity of culture. Maybe it’s time now to stop apologising and start celebrating who we are and where we come from and be happy to be - ‘C of E’!