Stephanie MacGregor - a long overdue memorial

Stephanie MacGregor, member of St John’s,

Born 1911 in Kingston, Jamaica

Died 1936 in Edinburgh

I have to admit, it doesn’t happen every day that as a priest in the Church of God one receives a request to do a memorial service for somebody who died 79 years ago. In fact, in 16 years of ordained ministry, it was the first time, I had received such a request a few months ago. No wonder then, that it did raise an eyebrow, when I first heard about it. When I then realised that we Episcopalians don’t have a liturgy for such a celebration and I didn’t know where to turn to find proper formulary, panic struck…

But this was followed quickly with raising the other eyebrow, because my curiosity was tweaked. Why would somebody come from the United States to Scotland to organise such an unusual service for a Jamaican relative? What had happened? And what was it about the person to be remembered that justified such a celebration.

Of course, the last of these queries is a false question. In the end, I had to eat my own words: at every funeral I remind the congregation that God has not forgotten those, who have died and never will. No, they rest in God’s bosom, cherished and loved as before, but safe from any terror of the night, any pain and illness, any strife and tears. And one day, when our Lord Jesus will return in glory they will rise to new life on a new earth, where sin and death will be no more, where weeping and crying will be no more, and where we will be united with those we love, but see no more. So, yes, even 79 years on, Stephanie MacGregor is precious to God – and will remain precious to God forever more. Even without Stephanie’s curious and mind-blowing story, it is good to remember a precious and beloved child of God – whether they died 79 minutes, 79, days, 79 years, or 79 centuries ago. In God’s economy time plays no role. God’s love is stronger than death. Or to put it into the words of the Apostle Paul: Love never ends.

But, there is also Stephanie’s life-story.

And what a story it is. What a life well lived it was.

Stephanie must have been quite women to set sails from sunny Jamaica to come to rainy Scotland. In the end, it is probably what killed her. Her body, used to sun and warm Caribbean winds, could not deal with the coldness and dampness of a dreich Scottish winter.

She had come to Edinburgh in the early 1930s to study Medicine, to be helpful for people in pain and misery. Together with three other bright Jamaicans (all men!) she had been sent on a mission: As a daughter of her country she came to Edinburgh University to study, in order to serve the people of her island nations. Yet, she would never return, but find an eternal resting place at Piershill Cemetary.

And, still, despite of her untimely death, Jamaica can be proud of her. And not just Jamaica. Her academic achievements were outstanding and she was posthumously awarded her medical degree on 4 July 2015 – hence the request to do another memorial service.

I will leave the academic laudatio to people at the University, who are the experts in this field, but I would like to share a few thoughts why not just Jamaicans should be proud of Stephanie MacGregor.

First of all, Stephanie’s memorial on 3 July 2015 brought together people from the Jamaica, Scotland, England, the United States, and Germany. From far and not so-far people came together. This beautiful young woman at whose grave we stood bridged huge distances and gathered “rainbow people of God”, as another Anglican, Archbishop Desmond Tutu, would call it. And what a beautiful thing it was! It celebrated the strength of the human spirit that can overcome adversity and distance – and this was Stephanie’s gift for us. In her own live she probably had to do this over and over and over again - overcome adversity and distance, and she is even doing it in her death.

When Stephanie came to Scotland, the British Empire was still functioning quite well and race played a different role in the minds of people. Even in post-Enlightenment Scotland, black people’s place and also the place of women was not necessarily at the same, or even at an equal table as that of the white colonial masters… Slavery had been abolished in the British Empire for quite a while, yet, the legacy of that evil and the not-so-subtle injustice of colonial imperialism affected peoples’ life even in the 1930s. And I wonder how Stephanie was able to cope with it all. It is indeed a testament to her strength and her character – and a testament of her faith that good will conquer evil, that life is stronger than death, that injustice and oppression will be conquered, and that the God of love, who created us all in Her image regardless of our gender, race, nationality or other identity will have the final word. And we all have a part to play in establishing justice and equality for all, in ensuring that all have access to such basic rights as health services, and in working for an end to oppression and exploitation for those who come to our shores – even today.

St John’s, Stephanie’s chose congregation in Edinburgh, has for the past decades tried to claim all this. Advocacy on behalf of those who have no voice is very much at the centre of our identity and we now more than ever understand that justice is a Gospel-imperative.

But it’s not always been this way.

When St John’s was founded, large donations were given from people who had become rich in the African-Caribbean slave trade. It is an evil that sits at the foundation of our church-community.

One could argue that Stephanie’s membership at St John’s therefore was ironic. But I believe it was probably providential – and maybe it was even God’s plan to send Stephanie as a prophetic voice to the sometimes stuffy and ignorant establishment of Edinburgh of the time. She might have lived shortly, but she touched hearts and opened ears and eyes – and opened even minds and hearts.

And this is why commemorating her memory was indeed a good thing.

Barack Obama recently at the funeral of those martyred at Emanuel Church in Charleston, SC spoke a lot of “grace.” I believe that Stephanie was gifted with the kind of grace the U.S. President spoke about. It was grace the infused her life and that impacted the lives around her. She never made it back to the shores of her native land to be a servant to those in need. But I do not think that her life was wasted. It just impacted the people of Jamaica and many others differently.

Eternal Father bless Jamaica.
Guard her with Thy mighty hand
Keep her free from evil powers
Be her light through countless hours
To her leaders, Great Defender,
Grant true wisdom from above
Justice, truth be hers forever
Jamaica, land you love.
Amen

Adapted from words of the Jamaican national anthem

The Kingdom at Work

Tony Bryer is Edinburgh's City Centre Workplace Chaplain employed by our 3 churches working in ecumenical partnership. He reflects here on the relationship between the life of work and our spiritual health in an article originally published in Cornerstone Magazine in June 2015.

I recently came across the following statement: ‘It was requested that a corporate spirituality policy be prepared covering employees of the organisation......this report proposes the approval of an employment policy on faith, religion, belief and non-belief (spirituality)’.

From time to time, opportunities to talk about faith, faiths and spirituality arise in workplace chaplaincy. It may be a member of another world faith, interested to know something about Christian practice; it might be a practising Christian wanting to talk through an issue concerning the relationship between his or her faith and something at work; or it may be someone (of no faith) who is wrestling with a decision about the direction of his or her life, and the values that could shape the choices.

Such conversations are about faith, religion and spirituality – but they are not the sort of conversations we often have in church settings. It seems to me that here there are some challenges for us as the Together churches.

Do those of us in regular employment find that we are able to make the link between our faith and our work, in a creative and liberating way? Or are they kept in separate boxes? I wonder whether this is something we should try to address jointly. Exploring the idea of how the Kingdom (or Rule) of God relates to the world of business, commerce and service industries is surely an important task for churches who believe that God is present in all of life.

Some organisations do speak of the spiritual care of their employees. Again, what might such care look like? I am presently involved in one workplace with regular sessions set up to explore precisely this issue – through reflection, silence, guided meditation and sharing. Perhaps we too should be looking at what a spirituality of work (and spirituality at work) might look like.

If any of this interests you, please contact me. If you want to think more about the idea of God’s kingdom and work, I can send you copies of a bulletin that is dedicated to the practical and theological exploration of the idea.

tbryer.wpcscotland@gmail.com

www.togetheredinburgh.org.uk

Life with a capital L

Eleanor Harris is a member of St John's, local historian, artist, and champion of choral singing and environmental concern. She is currently spending time coping with an unexpected illness and reflects here on what is central to living Life - with a capital L.

Well, here's a thing. The cocky Eleanor, always bouncing off the walls and doing anything she wants to, has been felled by an autoimmune disease. You know when you bang your knee or sprain your wrist, and it goes red, hot and painfully swollen, and you lie awake at night groaning and demanding ibuprofen? My body has decided that any of my joints should inflame like that whenever I indulge in too much exertion – and the rest of the time should creak uncomfortably like a granny's. Over the past two months, the definition of "too much exertion" has descended from three-mile runs and all-day typing, to sending a tweet and going to the shop. It's also spread from my hands and feet to my knees, elbows, shoulders and jaw – and tongue, which seems an unfair classification of "joint". I'm off to see a specialist next week with blithe promises of diagnosis and treatment, hopefully before my immune system classifies my vital organs as joints. But right now, I feel as if I'm dying, and from my knowledge of autoimmune conditions, there's some chance that I am.

I've never been ill before, and it has afforded various interesting reflections.

One is, that for the first time in my life I'm quite impressed with myself. The autoimmune thing appears to have developed on top of a badly underactive thyroid. I've felt dead tired for years, but whenever I put it to anyone they said, look at all the things you do! You've done a PhD, bought Blair House, you sing three choral services on Sunday and go running and walking, and do all this environmental stuff. Last September I walked 20 miles over Lochnagar, and jogged the last four miles. There's clearly nothing is the matter with me: I'm just lazy. Well, it seems I wasn't lazy, I was achieving a considerable feat of mind over matter. I might have killed myself, but I'm quite impressed.

Secondly, I'm pleased at how quickly I've chilled out into the being ill thing. At first when I realised that this wasn't going away, I was hugely grumpy, frustrated, feeling that my only method of keeping demons at bay was a frenzied activity and exercise. I couldn't bear to let people know I was ill, and go through all the dreadful charade of people asking me how I am and screwing up their faces in socially-acceptable sorrow when I say I'm getting worse. As an alternative, I laid in angrily to my friends' political pronouncements on Facebook, but this was tiresome work. After about a month of this, I got bored of myself. The doctor had officially sanctioned laziness, and actually I quite enjoy staring out of windows, so I began to enjoy the luxury. I bought an iPad, which lets me write by dictation so I'm not silenced by my arthritic hands. It's only a small switch in attitude for the stupid things people say – whether politics on Facebook, or sympathy for illness – to seem comic rather than irritating. The weather is warm. My parents and friends are looking after me. The world has become a very chilled-out and funny place.

But the best thing – the best thing of all – is that after a week believing I'm dying, my attitudes to death are just the same. My integrity has passed the test. I still think it is a ridiculous waste of time to fundraise for cures for rare diseases when we are facing a once-for-all mass extinction of life on our planet. I am still far more frightened of ecocide than of my own death, which is why I can talk with what some people seem to find shocking glibness about the possibility of the latter. The ultimate horror all my life has been the growing expectation that I would die in an environmental catastrophe, aware that spring never would come again, future generations never would grow up, birds never would sing over my ashes, and worst of all, that I had been amongst the last generation which failed in its responsibility to restore life. The possibility that I might actually just quit the scene now, irresponsibly, while there is still ample opportunity for humanity to rescue nature, would be the ultimate skive.

When people get debilitating or life-threatening illnesses, people rally round. The religious people pray for their recovery, while the secular people, or the more practical religious, go for sponsored runs in aid of medical charities, and everyone proclaims how unfair it is that a talented young life should be cut off in its prime. From my perspective, any god who attempted to glorify himself by miraculously healing me would be a blinkered, pampered, western, middle-class idol. Anyone who throws themself into fundraising for autoimmune research need to sort their priorities out. And as for unfairness, I have lived one of the most privileged lives in the history of life on this planet. Any unfairness runs the other way.

This is why I have decided to take advantage of the interest and sympathy that attaches itself to illness, to ask you a favour: take a lead in making the restoration of nature society's first priority. At present, humanity is not life, but a rogue species. Focus all your prayers, practical effort, righteous indignation, ingenuity and energy on saving Life with a capital L. The destruction of nature and biodiversity is not an aspect of the environmental crisis (as, for example, climate change or overfishing is an aspect). The destruction of nature IS the environmental crisis, in all its aspects, and we are part of nature. It is time for us to stop being a rogue species, and become a restorative one. Raise money with sponsored events. Lobby Parliament: change the political agenda. Examine your lifestyle. Form societies. Plant trees, as if your life depended on it. Your life does depend on it. Don't weep and pray for me, I'm all right. Weep and pray for all endangered nature, and for yourselves, who are part of its endangering. There's still time for salvation. If you don't want to do it because you are convinced by my arguments, do it because I'm ill and I'm asking it as a favour in return for entertaining you on Twitter over the years.

I've been doing a lot of thinking about how the environmental movement could be more effective, and I had hoped to try out these ideas into practice before putting them in print. But I'm no more afraid of looking stupid in a good cause than I am of dying, so I hope to write some more on this subject soon and get the ideas out there. When I unexpectedly recover, try them out, and they all fail miserably, nothing will have been lost except my dignity. And that is a chance worth taking, on the offchance of saving Life. If you take them and improve them and make them work, I'll have done something worthwhile.

As my favourite philosopher John Ruskin said, "There is no wealth but life".

[Originally posted on Eleanor's own blog - http://eleanormharris.blogspot.co.uk (illustration our own!)]

On Rock or Sand

Jill Stavert is a member of St John's and lecturer in international human rights. Here she explores some theme raised in the recent book edited by the Archbishop of York. Copies of the book may be obtained from Cornerstone Bookshop (0131 229 3776)

On Rock or Sand, edited by the Archbishop of York, will resonate with many and pose serious challenges for the Church. 

Very broadly, the common theme throughout the book is that society has lost its direction. The ideals of solidarity and working towards a truly common good that includes freedom for all and social justice - values that the Church has traditionally espoused and supported - has been diluted by excessive consumerism and self-interest. The following are some generalised, and rather simplistic, observations arising from this.

One may be forgiven for thinking that self-interest and a desire for material gain are useful tools in the hands of politicians and governments. All too often appeals are made to our selfishness rather than our selflessness to gain support for their policies. Moreover, it is frequently believed that economic recovery can only be achieved, and social problems thereby resolved, by equating the value of people with their economic output. However, what this does is to fragment society. It is used to justify the lack of, or reduced, support for those who for reasons beyond their control are unable to contribute sufficiently to such economic output. The worth of those who are, for example, unemployed, suffer from physical or mental disability, unintentionally homeless and even those who do not create wealth but provide vital support and services (e.g. those working in social and pastoral care, nurses, charity and community workers) is thus diminished. Employers, commercial and financial entities tend also to favour this approach. Moreover, many in the electorate appear willing to collude. A reluctance to share that which is available, or lack of awareness, on the part of those who are deemed to be more ‘economically useful’ prevents pressure being applied to governments to redress the imbalance and provide a more equitable outcome. 

Human rights recognise the equal value of all human beings. They are essential in protecting people who are at their most vulnerable. Yet, even these can be manipulated and ignored with detrimental effects for social justice if we are not careful. For example, full recognition of socio-economic rights (e.g. to welfare benefits, employment and housing, and related support and services) is integral to the attainment of social justice. However, progressive governments refuse to give full effect to such rights, as they are identified in international treaties, in national law thus making them very difficult to implement where they are most needed. Civil and political rights are also important here and are, in contrast, given effect domestically. That being said, the current government and the media have a tendency to discredit them when it suits by disingenuously focusing on how they assist the perceived “undeserving” rather than on their undeniable benefit to all humankind. In addition, the current societal ‘climate’ makes it easier for the individualistic nature of human rights to be misinterpreted by those who think that it is their rights, and their rights alone, that must prevail over all else in society and this is also unhelpful.

To not fully recognise the richness that every human being brings to the world and to deny support to people who contribute in many different ways is to deny our Christian ideals. As On Rock or Sand argues, the Church most certainly must play a significant and proactive role in preventing any continuance of this and in restoring solidarity and the pursuit of social justice for all.

Jill Stavert

Lectio Divina

We conclude this Lenten series on forms of prayer with a pice on Lectio Divina. Orginally written for Cornersone Magazine by Cameron Abernethy...

The art of lectio divina, or divine reading, has a long history with the Christian tradition, and has long been practised by monastics as a way of deepening their prayer lives. There are traditionally four stages of lectio divina, namely lectio, meditatio, oratio and contemplatio.

Lectio involves reading or listening to the passage of scripture being read slowly and gently, allowing time to stop and notice anything that stands out or catches one’s attention.

Meditatio gives time for one to mull over the word, phrase, image or thought that arose during lectio; to unravel its importance or meaning as one sits in the presence of God. Through meditatio we allow God's word to become His word for us, a word that touches us and affects us at our deepest levels.

Oratio is an opportunity to have a conversation with God about the content of one’s meditations, to listen to God’s spirit and so allow our deepest selves to be healed and transformed.

Contemplatio is a time to rest in the presence of God in silence, and so savour one’s relationship with a loving and personal God. Out of such contemplation can also arise the impulse to respond in a more active way within the world in your life. 

A suggested way of lectio divina:

1) Choose a text of the Scriptures that you wish to pray. Many Christians use in their daily lectio divina one of the readings from the daily office; others prefer to work slowly through a particular book of the Bible.

2) Place yourself in a comfortable position and allow yourself to become silent. Use whatever method is best for you and allow yourself to enjoy silence for a few moments.

3) Then turn to the text and read or listen to it slowly two or three times. Savour each portion of the reading, constantly listening for the "still, small voice" of a word or phrase that somehow says, "I am for you today."

4) Next take the word or phrase into yourself. Memorize it and slowly repeat it to yourself, allowing it to interact with your inner world of concerns, memories and ideas. Do not be afraid of "distractions." Memories or thoughts are simply parts of yourself which, when they rise up during lectio divina, are asking to be given to God along with the rest of your inner self. Allow this inner pondering, this rumination, to invite you into dialogue with God.

5) Then, speak to God. Whether you use words or ideas or images or all three is not important. Interact with God as you would with one who you know loves and accepts you.

6) Finally, simply rest in God's embrace silently and passively. Consider if there is an action that God is leading you to from this time of prayer.

7) When you wish to draw your time of prayer to and end you might find it useful to say an ‘Our Father’ or the Grace.

Praying with Art

Cameron Abernethy continues his series of articles for Lent, originally published in Cornerstone magazine.

I wonder when was the last time you allowed yourself the opportunity to create a new work of art, a painting, a doodle, a sculpture or a collage. As adults, we can all too easily become caught up in a world solely occupied by serious words, and forget our God-given capacity to play and create. Whenever I raise the possibility of using art as a way of praying, I can see the look of fear that drifts over some people’s faces. For them, like myself, art was something for those individuals with talent rather than a way of expressing our own unique creativity. But using art as a form of prayer is not about demonstrating our artistic skills or talents but instead it is a way of expressing our relationship with God. For we know that art can offer a new perspective and fresh insights as well as an opportunity to release our emotions.


Image from prayerwindows.com

How to use art as prayer?

1) I take a moment to be quiet and still in the presence of God, allowing my mind to notice how I am feeling in this moment. I decide on the passage of scripture I wish to use as the inspiration or starting point for my prayer today. I might read it over several times or play it on an mp3 player as I create.

2) I take time to gather the materials and tools I wish to use for my art today. I let myself just hold them in my hand. I might feel the paper I am going to draw / paint on or allow the clay / collage materials to move between my fingers.

3) When I feel ready, I might begin to draw, paint, mould or cut out shapes, patterns or images. I don’t begin with the intention to create something specific in this time, but rather allow the Spirit of God to direct my thoughts. It is not about getting it right but letting my mind just wander as I create my art.

4) I give myself the time I need to create my art, probably in silence to allow myself to be fully aware of God’s presence with me. I might drift back to the scripture passage during this time to revisit thoughts or ideas.

5) When my art feels finished, I just stop and look at it for a few minutes. I might notice what feelings are present within me as I look or touch it. I might think about how this speaks to me of my relationship with my Creator. I might wonder if I need to ask God for forgiveness or healing in this moment of my life. I close by giving thanks to God for this time.

Useful link http://www.prayerwindows.com/ and http://consecratetheday.com/creativity/creativity-home/

Nurtured by Nature

This week Cameron Abernethy considers how nature can nurture our prayer lives, and suggests some simple actions to help you reflect on words from the Psalms

I wonder how many of us have sat or knelt down to pray and found our minds overwhelmed by distractions. It can be all too easy for our desire to pray to become lost within the demands of life. When I find myself in such a circumstance I go out from my flat and spend time in God’s creation. This can involve sitting in the Botanic Gardens, walking around Holyrood Park or gazing out over Newhaven Harbour. The change in place enables me to leave behind my many distractions and let my awareness settle on the present moment. Such direct experiences of nature reveal something of God’s goodness and grace expressed through the beauty of creation.

The psalms celebrate the wonder of God’s creation repeatedly and often employ powerful imagery from nature itself to explore our relationship with God. One useful technique is to take a psalm and spend time pondering its words within nature. Below are some suggestions for praying with the psalms, inspired by the surrounding creation.

Psalm 1: The righteous person is like a tree planted by streams of water.

Find a tree and take time to truly see this wonder of creation expressed in trunk, branch, stem, leaf, flower and fruit. Notice the areas of growth within your own life and consider what fruit might you be bearing.

Psalm 16: You have made known to me the path of life.

As you walk along a path bring to mind your own journey with God over the past few days, weeks, months or years. Allow yourself to notice those times of closeness with God and give thanks for them. Allow yourself to notice when God felt distant, or even completely absent, and be aware of what was going on for you then. Where are you on the journey with God at this moment?

Psalm 19: The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of God’s hands.

Take a few moments to enjoy the sky, the clouds as they drift by, perhaps even the sun as it rises or sets. Let your mind wander as you drink in the very glory of God revealed in creation. Notice the feelings within your heart, the sensations within your body as well as the thoughts in your mind.

Psalm 42: Deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls; all your waves and breakers have swept over me.

Sit beside a waterfall or the sea and listen to the movement of the Spirit within God’s creation. What do you need to flow into your life from God? What is the grace you would ask for from God to pour into your life today?

Psalm 62: God alone is my rock and my salvation.

Take a moment to pick up a stone or a pebble and hold it in your hand. Let yourself become aware of its shape and how it feels in your palm. So often David found rest, security, shelter and safety within a rocky cave. Perhaps there is an area in your life where you need God to be your rock, to offer shelter and sanctuary to you. Talk to God about this as you hold onto the stone or pebble.