Book Review: John Philip Newell 'The Rebirthing of God: Christianity's Struggle for New Beginnings'

Book Review – Peter Tyler

 

The Rebirthing of God: Christianity’s Struggle for New Beginnings

Author: John Philip Newell

Date: 2014

Price:£16.99

Publisher: Skylight Paths Publishing

ISBN: 978-1-59473-542-4

pp 133 hbk

 

The imagery of birthing pervades John Philip Newell’s new book – not only the joy but the travails, and frankly, the messiness of it all. It is Philip Newell’s conceit that we presently lie as a church and a spiritual community in a time of birth – with all its attendant excitements, dangers and mess. This, of course, will strike a deep chord with some readers and put off others. I gave a chapter of the book to one of my classes to discuss and a lively debate ensued – not least on the striking image Newell uses at the beginning of the book from Jung’s memoirs (I won’t spoil this for you – sufficient to say it will stay in your mind for some time to come!). As always though with Newell he takes a serious topic – the crisis in contemporary Christianity – and addresses it both with seriousness and humour in a very approachable fashion. There is an awful lot of erudite research and theology behind this book but the author wears it lightly. Faced with this crisis Newell suggests we have three alternatives: the first is denial, let’s pretend nothing is happening and carry on ‘business as usual’. The second is to shore up the old foundations of ‘fortress Christianity’ against the dark forces that threaten it. The third, and the one Newell preferences, is to embrace the challenge, accept that the Holy Spirit is sweeping through dusty and moribund institutions and look forward to what he calls ‘the rebirthing’ of Christianity. In the pages that follow we have Newell’s map of discovering this rebirthing through a series of reflections on the earth, compassion, light, journey, spiritual practice, non-violence, the unconscious and love. As well as being an accomplished academic Newell is a great story-teller in the Celtic tradition (he was Warden of the Iona Community in Scotland for many years). Thus as we wander (and wonder) through the eight themes we also wander with Philip around his beloved Iona, each stage of the book reflecting for him a stage in his journey around the island itself. As with all the best Celtic spirituality, it is a narrative rooted in a specific time and place. Yet this is no parochial spirituality, through the book we journey with Philip to ‘his other home’ at the Ghost Ranch Community in New Mexico, we share his love of art and poetry, his exposition of the Gospel of John, his knowledge of the early Celtic writers such as John Scot Eriugena and throughout it all his own humour and love for his family and friends. Many of these themes have been explored in his earlier books but this one reads like a distillation of so many themes from these earlier books – a ‘summa’, if you like, of his thought. At the beginning of the book Newell states that if we begin to provide the right spiritual food in our churches, homes and parishes then many who have left the Christian family will return. From his base in family, home and the Celtic seas Philip is doing exactly that in this book – a book that provides necessary spiritual nourishment not just for Christians but for all humanity. It is I think a book that will inspire great love and freedom to those ‘in search of a way’. A message of love from Iona to the world.

 

 

 

 

 

Peter Tyler

November 2014

Book Review: Gerard W. Hughes 'Cry of Wonder: Our Own Real Identity'

Book Review – Peter Tyler

 

 

 

 

Cry of Wonder: Our Own Real Identity

Author: Gerard W. Hughes

Date: 2014

Price:£12.99

Publisher: Bloomsbury

ISBN: 978-1-4729-1040-0

pp 313  pbk

 

I was going to begin this review with the words: 'It was with great sadness that we heard earlier this month of the death of Fr Gerry W. Hughes SJ...' However, having reflected on Gerry, his life and teachings, and gone back to Cry of Wonder, published just before his death, I find myself rejoicing rather that we have had the privilege of sharing the last nine decades with such a great soul. Many will know him from his outstanding books - God of Surprises, for example, has probably done more than any other single book in the last half century to popularise the Ignatian methods in the English speaking world and will surely stay in print for many more years to come.

Much in Cry of Wonder will be familiar to Gerry’s loyal and extensive readership: accessible sections on Ignatian spirituality, a sparkling wit and at times somewhat mordant humour, and an open style. On a historical front the book traces well the transition in style of delivery of the Spiritual Exercises from preached retreat to individually guided retreat in the second half of the twentieth century. Along with such deceased luminaries as Bishop Graham Chadwick, Sr Pia Buxton IBVM and Fr Michael Ivens SJ, Gerry was one of the chief protagonists for introducing this change into the British Isles and all those who have benefitted from the Exercises over the past several decades have a lot to thank him for. What will be new to many readers will be the autobiographical content of Cry of Wonder. This largely fills the first third of the book and gives us fascinating insights into the times and influences that shaped the man but also of the Roman Catholic Church in the heady days of reform and transition in the mid-twentieth century. For those now too young to remember those times, much that happened will be explained in these pages. As well as his meditations on the Ignatian Exercises and his autobiographical sketches, the third part of the book comprises an extended discussion on Gerry’s beloved motives of Peace and Violence.  It is appropriate that Gerry should die on the feast day of two remarkable saints: St Martin de Porres of Peru and St Rupert Mayer of Bavaria. Both embodied causes close to Gerry's heart: Martin de Porres, the son of a freed slave and the illegitimate son of a Spanish nobleman, lived a life of simplicity and service that has made him a model of simple and devoted service and an ikon for all oppressed peoples. Rupert Mayer, on the other hand, another Jesuit like Gerry, saw the evils of Nazism at first hand and denounced its atrocities from his pulpit at St Michael's church in Munich. For his troubles he was sent first to Sachsenhausen concentration camp and then interned for the rest of the war. After his release at the end of the war, he died of a stroke on 1st November 1945 whilst celebrating mass at his beloved church in Munich. Gerry’s meditations and life-long conviction of the necessity of challenging government policies on war and defence seem to come from the same source as those of St Rupert Mayer (the sons of the soldier Loyola seem to understand the military mind well!) and this part of the book is a fitting testimony to all that Gerry achieved in this area – it would be good to eavesdrop on the conversations the two of them must be having now in Eternity! Gerry’s life, pursued on the margins of the Catholic Church and working with the most underprivileged people in our society, is nobly mapped in this well written book and what is most remarkable (as those of us who saw Gerry in his last few months) is that none of his early passions and insights are dimmed or weakened. ‘What, basically, do I most desire?  This is the most valuable question we can ask ourselves’, writes Gerry towards the end of this wonderful book. To anyone who has ever asked themselves this question, and would like to see how one man went about answering it, this book is addressed – which is, of course, us all. 

 

Peter Tyler

November 2014

 

Inaugural Lecture

Dear All

Please find attached link to my inaugural lecture as promised.

Hope you enjoy it!

best wishes

Peter

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n9PZ0ewZrdg

Gerard W Hughes 1924-2014, RIP, a recollection

I was about to begin this post: 'It was with great sadness that I heard yesterday of the death of Gerry Hughes...' However, having reflected on Gerry, his life and teachings this morning (surely in the way he always encouraged us to do!), I find myself rejoicing rather that we have had the privilege of sharing the last nine decades with such a great soul. Many will know him from his outstanding books - 'God of Surprises', for example, has probably done more than any other single book in the last half century to popularise the Ignatian methods in the English speaking world and will surely stay in print for many more years to come.
Then there was the man himself - warm, humorous and humble with a vein of steely Scottish granite that would come out when he was challenged, especially over his beloved Peace agenda. I saw him a few months ago and, like an old testament prophet, he was as sharp and perceptive as ever. His razor-like intellect cutting through the delusions and pretensions of our current world. I am just finishing my review of his last book, 'Cry of Wonder', which I shall post on here over the next few days.
How appropriate that Gerry should die on the feast day of two remarkable saints: St Martin de Porres of Peru and St Rupert Mayer of Bavaria. Both embodied causes close to Gerry's heart: Martin de Porres, the son of a freed slave and the illegitimate son of a Spanish nobleman, lived a life of simplicity and service that has made him a model of simple and devoted service and an ikon for all oppressed peoples. Rupert Mayer, on the other hand, another Jesuit like Gerry, saw the evils of Nazism at first hand and denounced its atrocities from his pulpit at St Michael's church in Munich. For his troubles he was sent first to Sachsenhausen concentration camp and then interned for the rest of the war. After his release at the end of the war, he died of a stroke on 1st November 1945 whilst celebrating mass at his beloved church in Munich: 'The Lord! The Lord! The Lord' were his last words...

So we feel sad today but also rejoice in this wise warrior of Christ, our friend and companion Gerry, who has taught us so much about being a Christian in today's world. I shall end with a short extract from the article he wrote for me on Ignatian spirituality for 'The Bloomsbury Guide to Christian Spirituality'. May he rest in peace. Amen.

What, basically, do I most desire?  This is the most valuable question we can ask ourselves.  We then discover that this search appears to be endless: we start discovering the many different levels of desire there are in us.  We also begin to realise that desire is not something we create: it arises in us.  As we pursue the various desires, we become increasingly frustrated. Having pursued my desire to eat, drink and be merry, I end up with severe stomach and weight problems.  Having pursued my desire to become the wealthiest person in record time, I find myself doing long term imprisonment for trying to take shortcuts on my way to a personal fortune. In view of these difficulties, I may take to religion, only to discover that God is uncomfortably demanding. The American thinker, David Henry Thoreau (1818- 1862) commented on this process when he said that the majority of people live lives of quiet desperation.          

There is a wonderful truth, a pearl of great price lying hid in this desperate  saying. St Augustine spotted it towards the end of his life – he died in 430 C.E.  - and wrote ‘Thou hast created us for thyself, and our heart cannot be quieted till it may find repose in thee’ (Confessions 1.1.).

          God is always transcendent, greater than anything we can think or imagine.  God is ‘a beckoning word’ as I once heard bishop David Konstant say. God beckons us beyond ourselves into God’s own life.  The transcendence of God, which we are called to share, is already working in us in our experience of desire, which no created thing, or person, or group, or system can ever satisfy, thank God!   

          God’s will is our good, our freedom, our delight in our at-one-ness in God, with all creation and within ourselves.  St Paul described this in his letter to the Ephesians, ‘God’s power working in us, can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine’ (Ephesians 3.20).

          The final prayer which Ignatius presents at the end of his Spiritual Exercises is: ‘Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory, my understanding and my entire will, all that I have and possess.  You gave it all to me; to you I return it.  All is yours, dispose of it entirely according to your will. Give me only the love of you together with your grace, for that is enough for me.’