Back in Canterbury

The Friary (and Master's Lodge)

Night time view from my room

And in the daytime, from my room

My 14th Century attic room!

Am back in Canterbury for another term at the Franciscan Study Centre and staying at the friary in the city centre. And once again kick starting this blog.

The study is two papers: Writings of Francis; and Franciscanism in the Contemporary World. So far so good although there are essays to write for each and a lot of reading. I'm the only student in both classes so there is no back row to hide in and no one else to make intelligent comments when my brain is mush.

The friary has, since last time here, moved down the Stour River to the Master's Lodge of Eastbridge Hospital (Austin is the Master - hence our living in the Master's Lodge)

SSJE in Korea

My present community in Korea is actually the third time there have been Anglican male religious in Korea.

The first was in the early mission days in the 1890s when new and largely unformed members of the Society of the Sacred Mission struggled to maintain some form of community life despite the needs of an overstretched mission field. The lay brothers mostly left - both Korea and SSM - while the priest brothers mostly remained in Korea but left SSM. An exception was Fr Henry Drake who remained in SSM and later returned to Korea when Mark Trollope (ex SSM) was bishop.

The Society of St John the Evangelist in Cambridge, MA, was also involved. Recent correspondence with Fr David Allen SSJE has reminded me of this history and he has supplied the following information.

Fr. Walter Perry Morse, SSJE, died March 23, 1976, in Cambridge, MA, in the 84th year of his life, having been flown by medical evacuation from Taipei, Taiwan, 9 days earlier.

He and Fr. McDonald SSJE were both in Korea 1922 to 1924. Fr. McDonald took his life vows in 1924 in Korea while he was still there.

Fr. Morse was also in Korea 1930 to 33, then in Japan 1934 to 37, and in China 1937-41, when he fled over the Himalayas. He returned to China in 1945, but soon had to move to Tibet, where he stayed until 1952. After a short return to the USA he went to Taiwan where he remained, except for short visits to the SSJE houses in Japan, until he was evacuated in 1976.

Fr. Raymond Thomas McDonald, SSJE, died July 27, 1973, in Boston, MA, in the 80th year of his life. He was in Korea from 1922 to 1924, but he carried an abiding love for Korea in his heart. During his final illness, using a Korean dictionary, he taught some Korean to a close friend so that they could recite the Lord's Prayer together in Korean when she visited him. After he left Korea most of his ministry was in the USA, a few years in San Francisco when the SSJE was in charge of the Church of the Advent of Christ the King, the rest of it was in Boston, and finally in Cambridge until he was hospitalized in 1972 in Boston.

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Thanks to Fr Allen (who had a substantial part of his ministry in Japan and who still keeps an interest in Asia) for the information and for reminding me and others of this layer of history, which is now in some way part of the foundation for what has come later.

Gifts

Gift giving and receiving is very much part of life in Korea.

Last week I gave the dentist and his staff some candles I had made. (He is giving me a generous discount - since he's an ex-Anglican). On the way back to the friary I filled the car with diesel and the service station gave its usual gift of a small pack of tissues. I stopped at the post office to post some letters and they had a gift for me - two tubes of gift wrapped toothpaste.

The heating oil people give us either a larger box of tissues (usually diesel scented since they've been sitting round in the cab of the tanker) or some refill packs of washing up liquid.

At the festival seasons gift-wrapped sets of cans of spam are popular gifts. (Spam - the canned meat - remember it? It's very popular in Korea)

Gift-giving can merge into bribery easily. Not the kind of gifts we receive - I cannot be bribed for a pack of smelly tissues~ but politicians and businessmen and others with power easily and frequently exchange gifts with the stated purpose of thanking someone, or expressing friendship, but usually with the real hope of receiving some favour.

silly teeshirts

Korea is a country of teeshirts with fairly random collections of English words on them.

Seen today in Chuncheon: "Do you like hurt? Love drug 21 makeup"

And "Swedish pleasure".

Back in Korea - and Messiaen's birds

Back in Korea and still feeling the effects of suddenly moving from mid-summer to mid-winter.

Trying to re-establish my life here, pick up whatever routines are helpful, and not get saddled with things I'd rather avoid. Just starting up life here after nearly 5 months away. Some things have changed (there's a new postulant with us) and some things haven't (the friary is still operating on the summer timetable for some reason).

From my reading:

A review in the Church Times by Peter McGeary (5 Sep 2008) of a book about listening makes the point:

This year is the centenary of the birth of the composer Olivier Messiaen, whose music is peppered with the tunes of countless birds. I am told that much of his birdsong music could not now be written, because the tunes are no longer sung: mainly because of the noise that human beings have created, the birds cannot hear one another; so they cannot learn their songs from one another. The variety of their song is being diminished, because they learn by listening, and if they cannot hear, they cannot learn.

Christmas in Stroud and flying to Nelson

Christmas at Stroud was easy and relaxing. The crib (above) is made in PNG bush house style with Australian animals made from bottle brush. No angel or star on top but a koala.



Then over to NZ for time with family in Nelson - and particularly for my father's 80th birthday (photo above).

Other than that not much to write.

Finishing in the library

Am finishing the current batch of work today. The next can wait till I return here in September.

Came across a book of prayers Praying Through the Christian Year by D. W. Cleverley Ford. No old fashioned stuffy piety here.

From a prayer when a car doesn't start:

Lord, I am frustrated,
I went to the garage
and the car wouldn't start.
Such a silly thing,
such a small thing,
but it knocked me off balance
all the day long.

I could give you a summary of St Paul's theology.
I could offer a fair outline of Church doctrine
and something about Aquinas, Erasmus and Calvin, too.

But of what use are all these trappings of religion
when my car won't start
and I am out of gear?

Sensible Evelyn Underhill

That great Anglican spiritual guide Evelyn Underhill may have been an expert on mysticism but she was also very practical. In The Mount of Purification (our edition here is the Longmans' 1960 reprint) she writes about the three chief factors in developing the life of prayer in the parish. The first is a parish priest who prays:

The priest who prays often in his own church, for whom it is a spiritual home, a place where he meets God, is the only one who has any chance of persuading his people to pray in their church. True devotion can only be taught by the direct method.

The second factor is:

the parish church, considered not as a convenient place for Sunday worship, but as a House of Prayer, a home of the Spirit, a place set apart for the exclusive purpose of communion with God; and therefore an abiding witness to His reality, His attraction, His demand.

The third is:

the formation of the praying group. I do not mean by this a hot-housy association of pious ladies, whose extreme exhibition of fervour too often tends to put everyone else off. This should be avoided at all costs. But there is surely no parish where it is quite impossible to find a few people, preferably quite simple and ordinary people, who care for their religion, and, if asked to do a bit of real spiritual work for it will respond.

She was one of the spiritual giants of the earlier 20th century.

more from the library

And today - from the "other" Brother Roger - Br Roger Castle of the Community of the Resurrection in his book of aphorisms about prayer So Easy to Love (London: Longmans Green, 1957). [nearly as old as me!]

Do not bother about the past; it is past. And leave what is to come to God. The present moment is your concern. See that it is a part of the splendid orderliness of God.

The present moment is always an infallible indication of what God wants you to do now. It is possible he may only want you to be undecided. (p. 26)

We must be soaked in the Gospel. You should have a copy of at least one of the gospels in your pocket or in your bag. You can read the Penguin Four Gospels anywhere, and no one will know what you are doing. (p. 34)

What clear forthright advice. (The Penguin Four Gospels is an interesting translation by classicist E.V. Rieu - published 1953).

from Alan Jones "Soul Making"

From Alan Jones' book Soul Making: the Desert Way of Spirituality (San Francisco: Harper, 1989), 84.

Christianity is a shocking religion, although many of its adherents have managed to protect themselves from its terrible impact. Tears, an awareness of one's psychic fragility, and a deep sense of peace and joy are not the most obvious marks of believers today. Yet the shock of Christianity remains: the shock of its materialism and its particularity; the shock of its calling us to a messy and untidy intimacy. It claims that the flesh matters. It insists that history (the particularity of time and place) matters. Above all it claims that, in the end, nothing else but love matters.

Traherne & Taylor

Today's gleanings from the library are two voices from the 17th century:

The opening paragraph of Thomas Traherne's Centuries (in the 1958 OUP edition)

An Empty Book is like an Infants Soul, in which any Thing may be Written. It is Capable of all Things, but containeth Nothing. I hav a Mind to fill this with Profitable Wonders. And since Love made you put it into my Hands I will fill it with those Truths you Love, without Knowing them: and with those Things which, if it be Possible, shall shew my Lov; To you, in Communicating most Enriching Truths; to Truth, in Exalting Her Beauties in such a Soul.

And from Jeremy Taylor' s The Rule and Exercises of Holy Living:

As those meats are to be avoided which tempt our stomachs beyond our hunger, so also should prudent persons decline all those spectacles, relations, theatres, loud noises and outcries, which concern us not, and are beside our natural or moral interest. Our senses should not, like petulant and wanton girls, wander into markets and theatres without just employment; but when they are sent abroad by reason, return quickly with their errand, and remain modestly at home under their guide till they be sent again.
(Langford Press, 1970, p. 60)

Lilburn on rhythm

Philip Norman in his excellent book on NZ composer Douglas Lilburn quotes him as saying:

...the patterns of our landscape and seacoasts, the changing of our seasons and the flow of light and colour about us, that all these things show patterns of movement and characteristic rhythms. And these things in a subtle way affect our manner of living and I believe that they impress themselves on our minds in a way that will ultimately give rise to forms of musical expression.

Norman continues:

Rhythm, according to Lilburn, was the key to music as it determined the 'shape and vitality of any melodic line', and 'in its larger sense of movement or flow it is in the basis of musical form'.

and today from Ireland

From a book about Irish monasticism, some Celtic nature poetry:

I have a bothy in the wood--
none knows it save the Lord, my God;
one wall an ash, the other hazel,
and a great fern makes the door.

The doorposts are made of heather,
the lintel of honeysuckle;
and wild forest all around
yields mast for well-fed swine.

This size my hut: the smallest thing,
homestead amid well-trod paths;
a woman (but blackbird clothed and seeming)
warbles sweetly from its gable.

This little sweet humble place
holds tenure of the teeming woods;
maybe you will come to see?--
but alone I like quite happy.

thought for the day from John Powell

At the top of the library pile was John Powell's "Through Seasons of the Heart" - a compilation of his writings arranged for daily use. From December 12:

We know God in knowing Jesus. Jesus is the Word that was with God from all eternity, the Word that is God: Jesus. St. Paul calls Jesus "the visible image of our invisible God." (Colossians 1:15) Theologians have called Jesus our "window into God."

More Mozart

First book off the rank this morning was De Mello's The Prayer of the Frog. He writes:

A young composer once came to consult Mozart on how to develop his talent.

"I would advise you to start with simple things," Mozart said. "Songs, for example."

"But you were composing symphonies when you were a child!" the man protested.

"True enough. But then I didn't have to go to anyone for advice on how to develop my talent."

Mozart, Merton and Barth's Dream

A new plan from today, seeing I am browsing dozens of books every day for cataloguing the library, but not really reading much, is to quote from something which has grabbed my attention each day. Today is the anniversary of Thomas Merton's death in 1968, and now the day set aside for commemorating him in the Anglican Church of New Zealand.

It was a relief when the piles of turgid Columba Marmion (although I see he's been extensively reprinted recently; perhaps if he didn't smell so musty he'd be a more attractive read) gave way to Merton late this afternoon. First was "Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander." with its opening passage about Karl Barth's dream:

Merton writes:

Karl Barth had a dream about Mozart.

Barth had always been piqued by the Catholicism of Mozart, and by Mozart's rejection of Protestantism. For Mozart said that "Protestantism was all in the head" and that "Protestantism did not know the meaning of the Agnus Dei qui tollis peccata mundi."

Barth, in his dream, was appointed to examine Mozart in theology. He wanted to make the examination as favorable as possible, and in his questions he alluded pointedly to Mozart's masses.

But Mozart did not answer a word.

I was deeply moved by Barth's account of this dream and almost wanted to write him a letter about it. The dream concerns his salvation, and Barth perhaps is striving to admit that he will be saved more by Mozart in himself than by his theology.

Each day, for years, Barth played Mozart every morning before going to work on his dogma, unconsciously seeking to awaken, perhaps, the hidden sophianic Mozart in himself, the central wisdom that comes with the divine and cosmic music and is saved by love, yes, even by eros. While the other, theological self, seemingly more concerned with love, grasps at a more stern, cerebral agape: a love that, after all, is not in our own heart but only in God and revealed only to our head.

Barth says, also significantly, that "it is a child, even a 'divine' child, who speaks in Mozart's music to us." Some, he says, considered Mozart always a child in practical affairs (but Burckhardt "earnestly took exception" to this view). At the same time, Mozart, the child prodigy, "was never allowed to be a child in the literal meaning of that word." He gave his first concert at the age of six.

Yet he was always a child "in the higher meaning of that word."

Fear not, Karl Barth! Trust in the divine mercy. Though you have grown up to become a theologian, Christ remains a child in you. Your books and mine matter less than we might think! There is in us a Mozart who will be our salvation.

For me one of the revelations of the divine in Mozart is what's going on in the background, in the "accompanying" parts - for they are never routine space filling formulae, but filled with flashes of divine inspiration.

life at the hermitage

After six weeks of Franciscan based programmes in NZ I am now in Australia, at the Hermitage of St Bernardine until Christmas. My main work is to start re-cataloguing the hermitage library. So I have reverted to (some) of my former life and skills, except this time sitting in front of a computer to do it. After about three weeks I'm nearly through up to the end of the scripture section - 220s for those who know their Dewey numbers. But there's still a lot to go. It's satisfying work, calling for great focus and concentration. So that's not a bad thing to be doing at a hermitage!

The satisfaction is in seeing completed books once again on the shelves, and knowing that this time they can be found, unlike the previous cataloguing which was very hit and miss.

So - I have some of my former life - but not all of it. And without library colleagues to have tea breaks with there is none of the opportunity to gossip about exciting Dewey numbers.

Next phase in my itinerant life will be a few months in Korea early in 2009.

blogger returns

It's been a long time since the last entry but this friar has been busy with many things. A First Order Chapter at Stroud in Australia in August/September. Now for 6 weeks in New Zealand conducting Franciscan programmes in parishes, schools and leading some retreats. But oddly enough a few people have said that they read this blog so it's time to start writing again.

I won't write about everything since the last blog. It's too much!

Earlier this week I was taken by my host in Temuka, Andrew Starky, on a drive up to Lake Pukaki. This is the lake at the other end of New Zealand's highest peak, Mt Cook. A few photos from round there:

near Fairlie - a town at the eastern end of the Mackenzie country - an inland sheep farming district.

Approaching Tekapo. Tussock ground with the Southern Alps in the background.

Church of the Good Shepherd, Lake Tekapo

Lake Alexandrina

Lake Pukaki, with Mt Cook on a perfectly clear day (and it's not like this everyday). Mt Cook is the triangular one in the centre, standing a bit on its own. The lake really is that blue - it's caused by small particles of stone carried in the water.

The Vanishing Dogs

Last Saturday was Chobok - the beginning of the hottest part of summer. It's a day, traditionally, for eating special food for summer. So far though it hasn't really been hot - just lots of rain and a typhoon. I took the bus to visit a friend a few hours away, settled on cold noodles for lunch - not particularly a summery food, but it's refreshing. And it kept on raining. Returned by bus in the rain.

The next day walking our dog past the neighbouring farms it was amazingly quiet. All their dogs had vanished since Friday. The most traditional food for eating in this early summer season is ... yes. That's why it was so quiet.

Summer in the Friary

A hot summer's day here. Humid. Wall paper sagging and damp floor humidity.

Do we do good things for the environment?

Yesterday backing the car up the driveway I ran over a large green frog. Spectacularly.

Last night while moving some papers on the floor of my room a large centipede ran out, and scuttled under through a gap of several millimetres under the wardrobe. This is just in the very position where I put down my mat for sleeping. Not wishing to wake up with a centipede crawling over me, I sprayed fly spray under the wardrobe. Fly spray doesn't kill centipedes; just makes them groggy and cross. It staggered out but I was ready with a fly swat. Fly swats are very ineffective also against centipedes. Eventually it was dead, by which time the greater silence had been well and truly shattered.

(Centipedes have been around since the Silurian age. No wonder they're hard to kill.)

This morning one of the toilets was blocked, so I had the joy of unblocking it with a plunger bearing the proud slogan, "With as slogan of 'Clean Environment' we wish to be a good citizen to the Human Life."