For thousands, possibly millions, of people in the UK and elsewhere in the world, a war is breaking out. It's not a military struggle but one that rages in the mind and the spirit of individual people. It is the war of self doubt, guilt, and self pity which invades minds and spirits, wreaking havoc: Self doubt, leading to loss of self esteem, manifesting itself in sleepless nights, strained relationships and obsessive behaviour (such as excessive alcohol consumption and drug abuse).
It has come about because of an economic crisis, the like of which most of us have not known in our lifetime. In virtually every sector of employment, jobs are under threat as budgets are savaged. Even those who cling on to their jobs, live with uncertainty which, for some, is a kind of paralysis, or a form of mental torture. The human cost (psychological, social, economic) is dreadful, and it behoves the Christian churches to respond with sensitivity and sympathy. What gives us the right to act at all?
All that we do springs from what we believe, and the Gospel causes us to look through eyes of compassion on the sufferings of others, just as Jesus looked upon Jerusalem. He taught us about human fulfilment, and he confronts all that erodes wholeness (the Gospel calls them 'demons'): I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly. (John 10:10) But we also speak from our own experience, for there will be members of every Christian congregation who are feeling the impact of the increased cost of living and the reduction of public services, or the loss of employment.
So how can we respond to the plight of those within and beyond our church communities? There will be practical opportunities: A willingness to spend time to sit and listen to our neighbour in their distress; to extend a gentle and well-timed hand of welcome or reassurance; to lead a distressed companion into an act of worship which is appropriate for their situation. Another response will be through the words of Scripture which could bring comfort and assurance at times of internal anguish and self doubt. Psalm 23 (The Lord's my Shepherd), or the final words of Romans 8 (vv31-39: Nothing in all creation... will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord), or the farewell words of Jesus to his disciples (John, Chapter 16, vv21-24: Ask and you will receive so that your joy may be complete), would be well-known and familiar examples.
Here, at the Cathedral, our Benedictine tradition yet again provides a resource. The Rule of St Benedict teaches us to be still and quiet so that, like a fire deprived of fuel, distractions and restlessness fade away naturally. It takes a life-time to develop this discipline, but we know the healing power of being silent in a quiet and peaceful environment. This is the art of practising the presence of God so that the clamour of the self is set aside in favour of the quietness of God. It is at moments like this that God speaks to us most directly, the 'still, small voice1. Yet, a conscious act like this carries with it more than merely an attempt to calm our minds and think clearly. Benedict warns us (Rule 7.12) that God knows the secrets of all our hearts, and that practising the presence of God carries a risk of self discovery. The 'still, small voice' might well say something unexpected! Hearing the voice would be re-assuring, but the message that is uttered might equally be life-changing.
"Living in the presence of God, we encounter ourselves at every turn. God, in turn, confronts us with our own reality so that we can recognise it and allow it to be purified by God." (Anselm Grun Benedict of Nursia, 2006).
Re-clothe us in our rightful mind, In purer lives thy service find, In deeper reverence praise. (John Whittier 1807-92)