I have just (a few moments ago) finished reading "Mole Under the Fence", a series of conversations with Roland Walls. Roland died a few years ago, after a remarkable life, especially centred on his time in the Community of the Transfiguration at Roslin. He was a priest, a monk (effectively), a sharp and self-deprecating man who had Christ at the centre of his life. I never met him, but a retired colleague of mine did, and lent me the book.
Image from Northumbria Community
Roland lived a life of poverty, and always seemed to be at the edge of things. He turned down an academic career in the Church of England, and lived life in that (ecclesiastically) strange country: Scotland. He also "swam the Tiber", converting to Roman Catholicism, but in a rather Newman-like way, because that is how he and community were taken, rather than the angst-laden protest conversion that one hears and sees these days (usually about women in ministry).
Why am I blogging about him? Because he has immensely challenged me.
He talks of Christians taking on the powerlessness and insignificance of Jesus on the Cross, rather than hanging onto the coat-tails of Christendom (I grossly, grossly paraphrase much of what he says). He pretty much rejects institutional models of church (although has such immense and complete faith in church as a place where people ought to be able to encounter God). He is rather non-plussed and embarrassed when people do NOT encounter God in churches. The eucharistic encounter is central to him - to meet the Trinity (love defined and defining) in the simplicity and complexity of that uniting and dividing mystery. And that's not even starting to scratch his views on justice, liberation theology, the social gospel, the Iona Community principles - the things that spill out when you do, really, meet God.
And I am immensely challenged. I am married, and have a family to (now) get through University. I am not free to drop everything and join the crucified human and divine saviour in a place of emptiness and poverty. I am part of an institutional machinery (in church, and even in a secular, state way) that rumbles on, in a more-or-less well oiled state. It measures success by growth and stability and influence and titles and even (God help us) the clothes we wear. And I can be immensely fed by all that. Isn't it great to be part of something good and shiny and visibly successful (I hesitated over that word - what word is right? The sense of being "in", of being "approved", of being "favoured"?)
But Roland challenges us all where we are, I hope and pray. I am trapped, just as he was trapped by the poverty of his community and de-skilling of any form of institutional ministry by the community's rule. I am trapped (very willingly) by family, by church, by duty - but in that state of being trapped, I can work (I hope and pray) to help others to encounter God in the communities which I serve. I am human enough to feel my ego and pride being fed when things are grand: but I can try to be human enough to keep looking for the cross, and the broken garbage nailed there to remind us where and how we are actually invited to meet God.
We are in the world, and the world's "stuff": church, state, society, success, failure - it is all around us.. But I pray that we will not be of the world, defining ourselves by all that "stuff". We are defined by the brokenness of the cross, meeting the delightfully and bewilderingly complex and simple Trinity of God in bread and wine.