UNEMPLOYED IN THE CHURCH

I don’t often write specifically about my job because, in all honesty, I don’t have one! Come off it John! you retort. We all know you work for the church. You’re a vicar. That’s your job.

Well, actually, it isn’t!

 

Yes, I am a vicar (or “rector” in my case) but it doesn’t actually qualify as a job. Not for me or for any of the other full time clergy in the Church of England. We’re not employed, unemployed or even self-employed – we’re “office holders” and we get paid a “stipend” not a salary. We actually have our very own unique tax bracket!

 

The idea is that we “work” for nothing but are given a rent-free house and a certain sum of money to cover our living costs and although that figure conforms to regional guidelines it isn’t a salary because the church doesn’t employ us. Some of us belong to a union and many of us now have terms and conditions of service but that still doesn’t make it a “job”.

 

So I guess that means I’ve been out of work for the last 33 years. Not that that gives me the faintest clue of what it is to be long-term unemployed, to face the dole queue or benefits office or endure the shame and frustration of being unpaid and unwanted. I know a good number in that position and it is heartbreaking and degrading.

 

I count myself blessed to pursue the vocation I have even though I’m still frequently told vicars only have to work one day a week. I’ve already told you – I don’t work any days! Psalm 90 makes this prayer: May the favour of the Lord our God rest upon us; establish the work of our hands for us – yes, establish the work of our hands.

 

Whether you are fortunate enough to be in paid employment, whether you are retired or carrying the burden of unemployment or even if you’re a vicar in the Church of England, I hope you can make this prayer your own. May what you do (paid or unpaid) be established and fruitful. May it be a blessing to others around you.

 

And may the favour of God rest upon you.

 

John

RINGING THE BELL FOR PEACE

A few weeks ago it was my very special privilege to visit the beautiful city of Hiroshima in Japan and view some of its ancient shrines and monuments. Like many millions before me I was also drawn to the amazing Peace Plaza commemorating one of the most grievous acts of brutal inhumanity ever perpetrated upon this earth.

 

At 8.15 am on August 6th 1945 an atomic bomb was detonated 600 metres above the  town hall heating the area to over one million degrees Celsius and flattening virtually every building within a 2 kilometre radius. Men, women and children were incinerated in seconds, crushed by masonry or had the flesh literally melt off their bones as they struggled to escape. In a very short period of time over 140,000 lost their lives. For months and even years after the incident many more died from the effects of radiation poisoning.

 

Citizens in and around Hiroshima lost colleagues, relatives and friends. Many found only the remnants of clothing or no trace at all of loved ones and were unable to find the closure brought though disposal of remains.

 

Hiroshima and Nagasaki are names that loom starkly in our global conscience alongside Auschwitz and Buchenwald as examples of appalling inhumanity and senseless violence. Yet even from these godless horrors beauty arises.

 

As I slowly paced the beautiful and simple Peace Plaza in the shadow of the still-standing burned-out carcass of the town hall and watched the Eternal Flame flickering above the cherry-blossom dappled waters of the memorial pool, I felt a deep emotion of peace and an awareness of the towering compassion of our God for this broken struggling world. And I read in many languages these words: Let all souls here rest in peace for we shall not repeat this evil.

 

Before entering the Hiroshima Memorial Peace Museum I paused to view the Bell of Peace, dedicated on September 20th 1964. I tolled it once and listened to the echoes throb outwards for the best part of a minute. I feel there is little I can do on this world’s great stage to make amends for the millions who die through war, torture and terrorism. What can one person do to make a difference and how could the sound of one bell, large though it is, do anything to change anything?

 

As I listened to the long heart-pulse of that bell on April 5th 2014, I confess I didn’t pray for world peace or even for peace in my community. I simply asked God to do all He could to change myselfish heart, to make me a man of peace, a purveyor of kindness, to perhaps touch those around me for the good. For peace begins when one decides to behave differently. Blessed are the peacemakers said Jesus for they shall be called sons and daughters of God.