Anita Mathias: Dreaming Beneath the Spires

Anita Mathias's Blog on Faith and Art

Come and you will see (John 1:39)

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Continuing my blogging through the Gospel of John
35 The next day John was there again with two of his disciples. 36 When he saw Jesus passing by, he said, “Look, the Lamb of God!”
 37 When the two disciples heard him say this, they followed Jesus. 38 Turning around, Jesus saw them following and asked, “What do you want?”
   They said, “Rabbi” (which means “Teacher”), “where are you staying?”
   39 “Come,” he replied, “and you will see.”
You know, I would like to know where I was going.
I would like to know where the road ends.
It would be nice.
But, you, Jesus, are compelling,
your eyes, magnetic.
I don’t really have a choice.
The road that leads away from you
seems to lead into a dark, overgrown, dense forest.
I don’t want to enter it.
Following you leads into the light,
and, so Lord, I will follow you.
step by step, and find out where you live.
                          * * *
Yes, come, and you will see.
I make no promises, but these.
I will give you
myself,
and priceless gifts which can neither be bought,
lost, nor stolen:
I will teach you to give thanks for all things
so that you may progressively see
the joy which pulses through all things.
I will give you my peace,
which will abide unshakeably.
My love for you shall be
water which will quench your thirst.

My body will be real food for you,
as you learn to turn to me with your soul hungers.
My blood will be real drink.
I will give you light,
guidance, for I am the way.
Come to me, come to me,
keep coming, and I will teach you to see
truth.
* * *
Come and you will see.
Words of invitation and danger.
You will not tell us what you are going to show us
 as slowly, imperfectly, often lagging behind,
we follow you.
Glory or Gethesemene?
Or both?

Great fruitfulness,
or the great silence of the desert
in which character is forged?

Fame, our name a household word as yours was,
or the obscurity of your first thirty years?

The love of a circle of close friends as you enjoyed,
or your almost absolute aloneness on Calvary?

Will we experience the miraculous:
feed five thousand from five loaves?
Or will we be shunned and condemned as you were?
I do not know.

But you are too intriguing, Jesus,
for me to do other than what you ask,
and come and see where you will lead me.

Returning to one’s true self: Where it’s so quiet

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I used to be a hyper, giggly, talkative girl in my late teens and early twenties, the proverbial “life and soul of the party.” Beneath that persona, though, I was deeply serious. I remember returning to my room after parties, and sighing with relief. I felt I was returning to my true self. “Hello self, I’m back.”

Two decades plus later, I am much quieter. Observing and listening is as interesting as talking, or more so.
I now have that sense of relief when I come to pray. I sigh with pleasure. I am coming home to where I can truly be myself. I am returning to my truest self. To my heart’s true home. Where I am deeply, truly known.
And the best thing about prayer: In the land of prayer, it is so quiet.
I love that!

I am ultimately on the same side as all Christians

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I generally try to avoid controversy, for two reasons.

a) I got involved in a heated church controversy in my early days as a blogger, and the hatred and vituperation which came my way affected my sleep and my emotional health. It convinced me that I do not have the stomach for controversy.

b) and most importantly, as Brennan Manning says, “Many of the burning theological issues in the church today are neither burning nor theological.”
People are free to believe what they wish; they will, anyway, whatever you or I say. And Christ will sort out and correct our thinking, in this life or the next.
                                                                               * * *
However, I tried to sort out my thoughts on an issue in the news: Celebrating Civil Partnerships in churches, which is legal in Britain from today.
Here’s my attempt.  Roy says I could have done better. Essentially, what I was trying to say was who am I, and who are you, to refuse to ask God to bless another individual.

Well: more flak than I’ve ever received from anything except in my early days of blogging. Here are a few tweet and DMs.

Gay stuff is the way to tear apart families and christianity. Has nothing to do with your ‘tolerancy’.

“The spread of an anti-family ideology and the abasement of sexual morality appear interconnected.”

In a healthy society the Christian family reflects the splendor of Christ. In dedication to one another, raising children.

“Family” is not a gay ‘relation’. Church acknowledges marriage between man and woman. People like you are very dangerous.
* * *

Well, a good reminder of why I try to stay out of controversy: The burning theological issues of our day are neither burning, nor theological.
I am not going to waste time, anger or emotion over controversy, nor get annoyed with my opponents.
At the end of the day, all those who love Christ, all those who follow him, or who want to, are on the same side. Whether they are conservative or liberal, Catholic or Protestant, straight or gay.
Maranatha, Come Lord Jesus!

Should gay civil partnerships be blessed in Christian Churches?

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Who is a Christian?
These are the people Jesus invites to be Christians
Come to me, all you who are weary and heavy-laden.
If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink.
A Christian is anyone who loves Jesus, and comes to him, seeking to follow him.
Who gets to decide if people are indeed Christians?
Two people.
The individual herself, and Jesus Christ.
What about gay Christians?
Well, for almost all my Christian life, I’ve thought the term gay Christian was an oxymoron.
Why? Because of Romans 1: 26-32  Because of this, God gave them over to shameful lusts. Even their women exchanged natural sexual relations for unnatural ones. 27 In the same way the men also abandoned natural relations with women and were inflamed with lust for one another. Men committed shameful acts with other men, and received in themselves the due penalty for their error. 32 Although they know God’s righteous decree that those who do such things deserve death, they not only continue to do these very things but also approve of those who practice them.
How do I read the passage? Straight, I am afraid. Seven year of university study of English literature and writing, and I can’t see any other way to honestly read this passage.   
Kierkegaard said ‘When you read God’s word, you must constantly be saying to yourself “it is talking to me and about me”’
The word of God is living and active, sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.When I read it today, it convicts me of finding solace and comfort in food and work rather than in God alone. It does not speak to me about a desire to sleep with women, because, you see, I have none.
The Bible is a purifying sword to excise our own cancers and gangrene.
It is not to be used as a sword to pierce someone else’s heart.
That is the job of the Holy Spirit, who will lead all of us who seek him, into all truth. We will just have to allow the Spirit to speak through Romans to those he wishes, and in the way he wishes.
If a gay Christian sees a way to be both gay and a Christian, then that is between them and Christ. And the Holy Spirit.
So should Gay Civil Partnerships be blessed in Churches?
Probably not by clergy who are adamantly opposed to homosexuality, no. That would be asking them to act against their consciences, and would be wrong.
But not all clergy are opposed to civil partnerships.
Besides, an individual cannot bestow blessing or curses on another.
God alone can.
When we bless a marriage, or civil partnership, all we are doing is asking God to bless the individuals involved, in whatever way he chooses.
That is after all his very nature. He is a God of love, a waterfall of love, a river of deep love, in which we are all out of our depths. It is God’s nature and desire to bless, and when we ask him to bless individuals, we are asking him to do something in line with his very nature.
If two men or two women come to church, asking for blessing, surely we can find a way to ask God to bless them, which does not violate our own consciences.
Partly, for our own sakes–to prevent the canker of pride, and judgementalism and cruelty from devouring our hearts–we have to stop placing a burden of judgment and shame on gay people which the rest of us would find impossible to bear. We just have to allow people to make the call as to whether they are Christians or not. And ask God to bless those who want his blessing.
According to Jesus, blessing should not be withheld from anyone. We are to love, do good, bless and pray for even our enemies, even the worst people we know (Luke 6:27). Leave alone those who come to church, asking us to ask God to bless them.
Maranatha, Come Lord Jesus. Teach us to think as you do.
·      * *
So how did a good evangelical girl come to write this post?
Well, I am giving a 50th birthday party this week, which involved some jitters, and looking critically around me, and seizing the opportunity to do some redecorating.
In the thrill of buying this beautiful antique furniture at a good price, I quite overlook logistics. It’s in Suffolk. Google says that’s five and a half hours away.
11 hours round-trip. I’d be exhausted in an hour’s driving. I’d be nervous if Roy drove for 11 hours in an unfamiliar van.
Hearing me anguish, our sweet Polish cleaner, who works for us a couple of days or so a week, offered to go and fetch it for us. He suggests £100, and petrol, and we gratefully agree.
And then, we overhear him talk on the phone to his English partner. He volunteered because Anita was so worried, but he’s nervous; what if the furniture gets scratched, what if his Polish driving habits take over?
The upshot is that Peter drives him all the way and Suffolk and back. These two very smiley, cheerful gay people arrive on our doorstep early next morning with a breathtakingly beautiful table and chairs—without a single scratch.
I had to laugh. It was so much like Roy and I. My heart is bigger and my tongue quicker than my practical abilities. I am always offering to help people—to take a meal around, to have them over if they are going through a hard time, help with information, contacts…—but the person who actually does the cooking or digs out the information turns out to be Roy, since I’ve generally bitten off far more than I can chew.
And I saw the same love between Peter and Lech, in Peter driving 11 hours with Lech to help him earn £100 and get me my table.
And if Pete and Lech, two sweet, smiley, superlatively kind, helpful men want God to bless them, who am I, and who are you, to refuse to welcome them to the Lord’s Table, and to request that the Lord blesses them?

Party Jitters and Seeking His Face

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The said table, flower-filled here after my birthday party!
Of late, I am trying to seek Christ’s face (2 Chron 7:14) in everything. And not to do things—little or big– before I have sought his face, and his wisdom on the matter.
Now this is no easy matter for me. By temperament, I am quick-thinking, quick-talking, decisive and energetic. And impulsive! With me, thought rapidly becomes action.
So seeking his face, for me, is a matter of slowing down, and growing in wisdom.
Seeking his face also means re-examining “the things I always do,” “the way I always do things,” and “just the way I am.”
Heck, I am a human being, not a fossil. If I am not doing things in the way Christ would want me to do them–the wisest and best way!–I can change.
                                                   * * *
So I guess, this is an anecdote about something I launched into without seeking his face, and how I sought his face midway.
Roy and I celebrate our birthdays once every ten years—you know, whenever a 0 appears in our ages. Our fortieth birthdays were great fun, and we have lovely memories.
And, well, there’s a birthday coming up next month. I devoted some thought to this. I wanted to invite lots of people, everyone I am friends with and liked, but the logistics of providing a meal for loads of people–cooking, heating, serving and clearing up—were too daunting. So after much thought, we are having an open house with cake, mince pies, mulled win and snacks—and NO cooking at all.
*                                                          * * *
So far, so good. Then, unfortunately, I remembered Flylady.
Sigh. This domestic diva for the born undomestic suggests seeing your house and your garden from the point of view of someone just entering for the first time.
So I look at the garden, and I see how the shrubs need a good pruning, and every thing needs cutting back. It’s a bit too overgrown. It’s too cold for me to do it and besides I’d rather write. I don’t have the heart to get Roy to go out to do it in the cold, so I hire a gardener to do 8 hours of work. Not cheap, but I will enjoy my garden more.
* * *
Step inside, look up, see cobwebs. Engage the cleaner for a special pre-party session.
And then start looking around at the conservatory furniture. Our cherry veneer table and white damask covered chairs were bought in 1993, before our first child was even serious considered. White damask seated chairs after 17 years of girls and their friends, and many, many pets?? Yeah, time for an upgrade.
I shop antique stores on line, and buy a beautiful Edwardian cherry mahogany dining table and matching chairs.
And then, I look at our coffee table positioned under a fig tree in our conservatory, which dropped figs on to it, which affected the veneer. It was too large anyway. I look at antique tables online.
Then I notice that rabbits have gnawed the bottom of our ten year old couch, and puppy paws (our puppy’s, and the cleaner’s who brings his puppy; yeah, I’m that kind of an employer!!) have frayed the fabric. I look online for leather couches.
You might have noticed that the party is becoming rather an expensive proposition by now.
Well, so did I.
· * * *
Time for me to seek his face!
And so I set my timer for an hour, and lie face down, and seek his face about this party, and how to do it, and how he wants me to do it.
· * *
If Jesus were to throw a party…
Everything in my life is coming down to this. How would that amazing, that most marvellous of men, that moral genius, that intellectual genius, that man who has so ravished my heart and my thinking–how would he do things?
How would Jesus handle a blog if he were me? How does he want me to do it?
How would Jesus handle Twitter if he were me? How does he want me to do it?
How would Jesus throw a party if he were me? How does he want me to do it?
·                                                                                                         * * *
Sigh. Relief. The bottom line is:
None of these things I am fretting about really matter. Doesn’t matter if the conservatory is not the cleanest, though I am going to pay for it to be cleaned. Doesn’t matter if the garden is not at its winter best, though, ditto.
Furniture? Doesn’t matter. No one who’s coming expects me to be a domestic goddess—and if they did, they’ll soon expect otherwise.
So peace…
* * *
What is a party about anyway–which we forget in our over-perfectionistic, too-perfect society?
It is not a performance, a time to show off your cooking skills.
It is not an occasion to get out your crystal and candles and pretend to be Martha Stewart—though no harm in a bit of bling, if you already own it.
It is not about you.
It is not about you.
*                                                              * * *
It is about love, most overused of words. It is about people.
It is about welcoming people, being delighted to see them, enjoying them.
and making sure they enjoy themselves.
* * *
And so, while I am probably going to upgrade the sofa and the coffee table before the party—we are going to do it anyway, so why not use the party as an inciting event?—I am going to relax about the party. I am going to enjoy it. I am going to look forward to having lots of my friends together, at the sameish time, though it’s a drop-in open house.
I am going to invite people into my less than perfect house, and accept the fact that I am a woman who loves reading, writing and thinking, but have, unfortunately, little talent or interest in the noble arts of interior decoration or cooking, or the throwing of flawless parties. So I am going to stop trying to appear what I am not
But just enjoy everyone who comes, and hope they enjoy it too.
And I am going to make a list of those who’ve RSVP’d and off and on, pray for them, pray for a blessed fortnight, and that they enjoy the party as much as we intend to. There is no surer way of feeling love for people than praying for them.
*                                                           * * *
Okay, I have a little story about the Edwardian cherry mahogany table and chairs. Roy and I love antique furniture of solid wood—but hate shopping. Which presents a problem!!
So we spend a day looking at dining tables and chairs online, and get very stressed. They are not cheap—the ones we were looking at ran from £500 for just the table to £2500 for the set. And go up another 2 grand, and oh, the lovely stuff! What to choose?
We both got stressed and confused, and I couldn’t hear God’s voice.
So I settled down to pray with a timer set for an hour, for wisdom re. the antique dining table and chairs, and general party wisdom and peace.
And I hear God say, “Seek my face, enjoy me, and after this, I will tell you what to buy.”
So I call out to Roy to stop looking. “I will choose something,” I say.
And then, I expectantly surf. I have heard God tell me he will help me choose something, but what, where? We have done our research over a day of fretting rather than praying, and now have a good idea of prices. But I know that God will tell me when I see it.
And I find it. I love it, Roy loves it. It’s a private sale. We get a price we couldn’t have dreamed of.
Oh, if only I had prayed first. How much trouble I could have saved.
Here it is. Solid cherry mahogany, and the last dining table and chairs, God willing, I will ever buy.
Now, how I wish I had prayed instead of stressing.
I am rather getting into the habit of saying this, aren’t I?

The Nasrid Palace at the Alhambra (Granada, Spain)

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Detail from a courtyard wall at the Alhambra (stucco above, tile below)

(Thanks, Roy Mathias, for all your help with photographs and writing for this post.)

Click, or right click, on an image to see a larger version.

We have had wanted to visit the Alhambra for many years, and this dream came true in December 2010, while Granada, and the rest of Europe was enduring its coldest winter for years.  Granada is a rugged mountain city with steep winding roads.  The Alhambra is at the top of one of these, and is a large complex including a place, mosque, fort and extensive gardens.

Nasrid Palace (Palacios Nazaries)

The Nasrid Palace is the star attraction.  One enters through a rather disappointing entrance and into a dark hall with a carved wooden ceiling and plaster work.

However, one soon sees the real Alhambra. Here is the first courtyard

and one walks through courtyard after courtyard (details shown later)

Alcove at the Alhambra

(I never did find out what the white bowls were for.)

Water played an important role in Moorish architecture.

Alhambra (Harem courtyard)
Same view of the Harem courtyard at the Alhambra from furtherback.
Alhambra stucco work

Apparently the Alhambra was designed to be renewed and redecorated by successive rulers.  Much of the decoration is plaster, and in parts, which naturally I didn’t bother photographing, on can see it in a state of decay.  The patterns were a combination of geometric patterns, as well as Islamic inscriptions.    For example “The is no Conqueror but God”, the one time battle cry of the Nasrids, is repeated over and over again on the walls.    Here are some details.  One is surrounded by these and can spend a whole day studying the patterns, if if one can’t read the inscriptions.

larger scale view of the same

The top of a pillar — one can see remiains of blue paint.
A little hard to see, but this is a ceiling
Wooden ceiling

Towards the end of the tour one comes to the Courtyard of Lions.  Unfortunately it was undergoing repairs and we saw it only through scaffolding.  These pictures are from the web

A long day pleasant day, with only a few places to sit.

Santa Maria Maggiore and the Pantheon: some pictures

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Okay, last on Rome for a while. Roy has been writing up our trip before it blurs into the mists of memory.

Santa Maria Maggiore is one of the twenty “Santa Maria” churches listed in our guide to Rome, and one of the five great basilicas of Rome.  The first time I saw the church it was summer and it was so crowded that the only part I could see easily was the wonderful ceiling:

and here’s a detail

Here is a statue of Pope Pius IX praying in front of a reliquary supposedly containing fragments of Christ’s crib.   Notice the wonderful coloured marble on the walls.

 The Pantheon was originally a Roman temple completed by Hadrian almost 1900 years ago, and looks solid enough to stand another 1900 years. 

Anywhere else in the world such an ancient monument would be a major attraction, but here the square it is on is a convient parking lot, with a statue of a friendly elephant

and a cafe where we happened to meet Zoe’s maths teacher.   

Zoe and Irene with two friendly soldiers

  

 

St Paul’s Within the Walls, one of the loveliest churches in Rome

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(We had two laptops, one ipod and one ipad stolen in Sweden which had ALL the photographs from our trip in April to Ravenna and Bologna, our July trip to Strasbourg, and half our August trip in Sweden. So we’ve got motivated to post our pictures from our other trips online.
My husband Roy has helped me a lot–a lot!–with this post. Just in case you notice any difference in style. Just saying:-)

On arriving in Rome our first stop was–wait for it!–St Paul’s Within the Walls, the American Episcopal Church in Rome—the first non-Catholic church in Rome.  An unusual lovely little church decorated by the pre-Raphaelite artist Edward Burne-Jones in mosaics.  It is not well known, and rather hard to find in guidebooks.  (If you are interested in visiting, it is on Via Nazionale, Rome). Remarkably we had seen the painting these mosaics were based on up close at an exbibition at the Ashmolean museum in Oxford a few months earlier.  The mosaics are much more striking than the paintings.

The dome above the altar in St. Paul’s within the Walls

 Just above the arc of flowing water there are inscriptions in Hebrew and Greek — the former the beginning of Genesis, and the latter the beginning of Revelation.  Here are some details

Detail — angelic choir

Even higher than the angelic choir, Burne-Jones placed a mosaic of Christ crucified on the Tree of Life with Adam and Eve (and Cain and Abel, who are very rarely pictured, let alone as babies.)  The inscription, in Latin this time is
IN MUNDO PRESSURAM HABEBITIS SED CONFIDITE EGO VICI MUNDUM
(‘In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.’ John 16.33)

The catalog from the Oxford exhibition states

Burne-Jones was especially pleased with the design ‘it said as much as anything I have ever done’ … but acknowledged that ‘everything is done to make it not a picture … and few will understand it’. When the large body colour version was shown at the New Gallery in 1888 ‘no one even looked at it’.

Apparently
The last and most dramatic design was never executed: an apocalyptic vision of Satan and his angelic army swarming out from the gate of heaven, a dark regiment of beautiful knights who might have stepped straight from the chorus of Parsifal.
The walls are decorated with tiles by William Morris.
A delightful and truly unique church to discover in Rome, the city of churches.