a radical heart

Rumi said, in the midst of conflict:

“I go into the Muslim mosque, and the Jewish synagogue and the Christian church and I see one altar.”

How open, or how big must one’s heart be to allow such a thought?  Can such a radical notion of generosity of heart ever take root today?  Perhaps not until we give up utterly what it is that we desire most will we come closer to that which is for the most part lost to us and beyond our reach for there is too much in the way.

Such is the heart of St. Dwynwen who gave up everything for the sake of others love.

Legacy of shame?

To be honest, my words were a little stronger than the title here this afternoon, however after mulling things over / steaming / ranting, it became obvious that the object of my frustration could not be truthfully a generalisation – therefore the following comments are (I would dearly wish to hope, but will probably be proved wrong), specific and localised.

I seem to visit a lot of people – funny that – but most are not regular church goers.  Those who profess to have a faith, are I find more often saying things like, ‘The vicar wouldn’t do this’  or ‘Me mam never went to Church after such and such an event.’  Families will talk happily of days spent singing in choirs or being involved some way or another in church activities, until some event.  The latest made me ashamed to belong to this institution.  The doors of our churches have been shut in the faces of too many people, the hurdles, hoops and obsticles that churchmen (they were all men in those days) put in front of people who were seeking God, a blessing or simply asking questions about meaning in their life were out of reach for many, making God seem distant and uninterested.

It is amazing that some still kept faith in such situations.

It is shameful on those who rejected them.   I just feel empty and sad for those who were denied, angry at those who felt it their place to judge and make choices for others.


We shared a truly odd service last night.
It was Valentines day. St. Valentine the (probably) most well known saint, yet to celebrate it in the context of the Eucharist was strange.
I’m not sure why though, there were no pagan overtones, nothing to suggest a ritual sacrifice on the altar, but still, the images that were projected of hearts, roses and embracing couples was discordant with the nature of Eucharist.

It is probably just me, I have been reading and studying about Eucharistic celebrations both for college and a week on Iona I am involved with, so to focus on this in that context I guess was a bit strange.

It is a shared experience of the outpouring of Grace, for me at least, echoed in the blessing and sharing of the sacrament. I am still puzzled and have yet to link this agape, the love of God, with what is more traditionally associated with Eros, the love of desire. I am reminded of a sermon I gave two years ago to students on Iona.
You should have been able to read it here, maybe I will post it tomorrow!!