Dominions, empires, kings shall pass
and be forgotten:
for Love’s sweet King has come to us,
of Love begotten.

But hold him not in fabled birth
with star above him.
Christ reigns in heaven, and lives on earth
in all who love him.

Text (c) 2000, set to a traditional Ukrainian tune

But yet the match seemed good. Her family
was keen on me – and I on her, it’s true –
just a shy, blushing lass… I worried, though,
about the age difference. They said, don’t fret:
protect her, and she’ll love you. And besides,
her mum is keen on genealogy –
apparently we’re both of David’s line!
Not that I’ll be challenging for the throne
any time soon! You don’t mess with Herod!

We laughed, and ate, and by the evening’s end
young Mary and old Joseph were betrothed.
And for a fortnight, it was bliss… until –
she came to me, as white as leprosy,
said, Joseph, Joseph – we must talk… and wept.

Forgive? Why, I’d forgive her seven times,
or even seven seventies! But yet –
there is forgiveness, and there is what’s right.
She’s shown she is not mine, I thought, and so
it’s best that I just… quietly… let her go.

But then the angel came to me as well.
And that changed everything – again. Told me
that Mary was blameless -  told me to stay
with her, protect her, and protect her child.

That was nine months ago. Now here I am,
bewildered, and a surrogate father.
And some protector I’ve turned out to be!
Near eighty miles from home, no room indoors,
no midwife at the birth, just cloth and straw.

And now I’m left not knowing what to do.
For if this child is who he’s said to be,
then how can I raise him? Most of my work
is crosses for the Romans now – no place
for any child – certainly not this one.
I’d slip into the background if I could –

But yet, there’s something here that won’t let me.
Amid the fear and chaos – I feel – joy…
It all seemed so straightforward – once. But now
I have a bride to care for – and her child –
and I suppose old Joseph may yet learn
to live by faith, for her sake, and for his.

(c) 2006

My favourite version, though, is this one:

(the awesome Sufjan Stevens, from his awesome Christmas box-set. Awesomeness.)

I do regard the use of the term “crime” in relation to ordination of women as deeply problematic and inflammatory. Nevertheless our position as ecumenical partners and critical friends requires that our response be made within a framework of interpretive charity – in preference to the hermeneutic of suspicion that is the default position of many commentators and news media. For this reason, reacting to what’s been reported in the press will not suffice: it’s necessary to do some careful reading of the primary text.

The document itself (“Normae de gravioribus delictis“) is an extremely technical one, designed to amend and streamline Catholic Canon Law (in effect, RC church disciplinary law). It seems to me that the aim is principally to be able to ‘fast-track’ particular disciplinary matters which the Vatican regards as requiring a firm hand for one reason or another.

It’s not seeking to second-guess or supplant secular criminal law:

the penal code of canon law… is complete in itself and entirely distinct from the law of States… in the practice suggested by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith it is necessary to comply with the requirements of law in the various countries, and to do so in good time, not during or subsequent to the canonical trial.
(from the explanatory notes)

The widespread reporting of the measure ‘criminalising’ ordination of women as a new one, is not accurate: this is merely an integration within the overall canon law code of a special measure introduced in December 2007. Whilst that earlier measure didn’t expressly classify it as “a crime” in the eyes of RC church law, that was surely implicit as it carries the penalty of excommunication.

The provisions regarding ordination of women and regarding abuse of minors appear in separate, albeit consecutive, articles of this document (Articles 5 and 6); Vatican commentators are seeking to distinguish them, and to deny that they are being treated as morally equivalent. Only the latter (i.e. abuse) are categorised as “grave delicts against morals“. Indeed the term “crime” is not used at all within the Article on ordination of women (although in supporting documentation this is included within examples of “the most serious crimes”).

However, commenting on the document’s terminology is not straightforward. The principal document, and its supporting documents, will have been written in Latin – commentators here are working from (Vatican-authorised) English translations. Where these translations have crime, this is translating the Latin delictus which can equally legitimately be rendered wrong, transgression, sin, breach etc. Indeed the document translates most key occurrences using the technical term delict – technical, and certainly capable of including the notion of crime, but a wider and less emotive term. So it could be claimed in mitigation that crime is an unfortunate and misleading translation – but equally, it could be claimed that crime is exactly what is meant in every instance!

Again, the context within which the terminology of delict/crime is being employed is breaches of RC Canon Law, distinct from secular criminal law. In the case of clergy child abuse, the accompanying guidelines specifically recognise the necessity of secular criminal jurisdiction and process.

Clearly, the ordination of women constitutes a major doctrinal difference between ourselves and the Roman Catholic Church (this is, of course, within a context in which the RC hierarchy does not regard any protestant ordinations as valid). The recent document has done nothing to help, indeed it has been criticised by many as a further hindrance. But taken on its own terms as a technical canon law document, I’m not convinced that it represents the kind of ethical or ecumenical retrenchment of which its critics are accusing the Vatican.

As the church we are well acquainted with coalitions. After all, we are the community of the incompatible, called to be a sign to the world of disparate people and traditions summoned to be God’s own people to proclaim the mighty acts of him who called us out of darkness into his marvellous light.

It would be tempting to think of a healthy church as one whose members are always of one mind, a place where ripples of tension or dissent are unknown. Perhaps we’d all like to be in such a church!

But that’s not the place to which Jesus invites us. For just as he called and included among his disciples both Matthew the tax collector and Simon the zealot (the one a collaborator with the occupying Roman regime, the other a member of the nationalist Resistance), so he continues to summon even polar opposites to serve him together.

It follows that the real test of a healthy church will be not how readily its people agree, but how difference or disagreement are handled. After all, it is an impoverished kind of unity that depends on uniformity. Instead, the Christian conviction is that all of us who seek to follow Jesus have something unique to bring to the table – different gifts and talents, but also different insights, opinions and preferences. Our task is to recognise and affirm this diversity, transforming a potential source of tension into a resource for confidence and growth.

As our nation’s new government gets to grips with collaborative working in a partnership which perhaps few would have predicted as viable, it may just be that the Church – the community of the incompatible – can stand as a model of consensus, welcome and respect. And guided by God’s Spirit, may we all learn not merely to tolerate difference, but to celebrate and cherish it.

But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you. (Matthew 6:6)

The trouble is, what if your experience of private prayer time is too often a lonely furrow? What if the thing you value most in prayer, the thing that seems to release in you a sense of authentic prayer, is the experience of “two or three gathered in [Christ's] name” (Matthew 18:20)?

At present I’m on a training weekend, meeting up with colleagues and friends old and new. The time spent “away from the coal face” and among my peers is invariably refreshing and energising; it’s good to be here, and to be ministered to. And the worship, the prayer, is a big part of that.

There’s also another training weekend happening at the same venue. And the plan was that some of our worship times would be within our course groups, and some would be shared. But somewhere along the line, there’s been a hiccup in communication… the upshot being that this morning, the other group were in the chapel and we were invited to do our prayer time individually.

How very odd it felt – disempowering, even – to be kept out of the chapel. And sure, we can pray and do our devotions by ourselves, it’s no great deprivation. Except that it’s not what I was looking forward to, it’s not the little parcel of nourishment that I was hoping or expecting to find.

When Jesus advised going off to pray behind closed doors, he was speaking principally against a showy or ostentatious prayer-practice with its risks of self-aggrandisement and hypocrisy. And those dangers are still there, for ministers just as much as for others in the church (perhaps more so). But equally, the assumption that ministers will feel entirely comfortable and self-sufficient in praying alone carries a similar risk of allowing ourselves to be portrayed as spiritual superheroes. And if we’re not careful,m we might start believing the caricature.

It’s not that I need to be leading prayer (far from it!), nor even that I really want to be prayed for, but rather that I would like to be prayed with.

In a cultural context where an individualised spirituality seems more attractive, more ‘meaningful’ than corporate prayer and worship, perhaps my feeling somewhat out-at-sea when left to pray alone means I’m swimming against the tide. But I for one don’t want to “neglect the habit of meeting together” (Hebrews 10:25), for prayer every bit as much as for fellowship. Introvert that I so often can be, it’s in prayerful company that I feel able to grow, to be present to God.

If it be your will
That I speak no more
And my voice be still
As it was before
I will speak no more
I shall abide until
I am spoken for
If it be your will

If it be your will
That a voice be true
From this broken hill
I will sing to you
From this broken hill
All your praises they shall ring
If it be your will
To let me sing

If it be your will
If there is a choice
Let the rivers fill
Let the hills rejoice
Let your mercy spill
On all these burning hearts in hell
If it be your will
To make us well

And draw us near
And bind us tight
All your children here
In their rags of light
In our rags of light
All dressed to kill
And end this night
If it be your will

If it be your will.

Coded references to biblical passages are inscribed on gunsights widely used by the US and British military in Iraq and Afghanistan, it has emerged.

The markings include “2COR4:6” and “JN8:12“, relating to verses in the books of II Corinthians and John.

Trijicon, the US-based manufacturer, was founded by a devout Christian, and says it runs to “Biblical standards”.

What the… ???? That’s like a pig farmer branding all his prize Tamworths with the phrase “Kosher for Shabbat”!

Seriously, if these nutjobs are looking for references from God’s word of life to emblazon on their wares of death, I’m sure there are more appropriate proof-texts. Texts that address them, the arms-makers, together with the safely-distanced warmasters, rather than purporting to proffer a hollow piety for those who will carry and use the weapons.

Lamentations 1.20, perhaps? Or Numbers 14.3, or Psalm 146.3? Ezekiel 33.25-26?

Micah 4.3?

Matthew 26.52?

But someone evidently has… before…

May he rest in peace. And in time, may he be remembered as much for his reforming ecclesiological agenda as for his rather splendid name.