Trench Warfare and singing

Last week I took my College Choir to southern Spain for a tour. The place was superbly beautiful and the weather and the scenery seemed to demand that everyone sat down and had a week long siesta. But we had work to do - a concert every day, and some intensive rehearsing, not only for the Spanish gigs, but also for Graduation and our recording sessions for a new Choir CD. I am really happy with all the good work we have done, but SOOOO tired... no day off for 2 weeks is not ideal, but once or twice a year it just becomes unavoidable.

Last night with the recording sessions completed, we booked an entire room in a local pizza house to eat and drink. One or two of the Choir (including me!) were practically asleep at the table, but we all woke up again when, inevitably, we paused between courses to sing from memory some of our favourite pieces - the sacred beauty of Bruckner's Locus Iste and Bogoroditse Devo from Rach's Vespers eventually giving way to the more ribald Month of Maying and Fair Phylis. It never ceases to amaze me how a shared love of music brings together people of hugely varied beliefs, theological views, denominational ties, social backgrounds and personalities; and the same love of music from time to time pulls people through personal fallings-out that happen along the way. 

Tired and vulnerable is not a good state to be in to read stuff like this. But thank God for the timely wisdom of Bishop Alan, who describes how WWI trench warfare was thought to have been the way to end the war, and in practice was discovered to be an unwinnable situation, with catastrophic losses for each side. How is the Anglican Communion going to climb out of her trenches and find an alternative way towards resolution and co-operative peace? Every attempt so far has had people digging back in. I seriously hope we will not look back in future years with the equivalent of poppies on Remembrance Day for the body of Christ.

+Alan's post made me think of the famous 1914 Christmas ceasefires. I first learned about these in my first-ever paying gig in 1973 as double bass player for a production of Oh! What a lovely war. The ceasefires are depicted in the movie Joyeux Noel, a must-see if you haven't already watched it. The fictionalised versions have singers or pipers inspiring the truces, and a football match took place before they all returned to their respective trenches. I believe the football match really did take place, although darker versions of history claim it was less sentimental than this, and a rough agreement to allow the guys a break in firing to bury their dead in no man's land; an agreement that was breached in a number of instances.

Whatever the exact events of 1914, the Anglican Communion could do with a ceasefire right now; and with the willingness to fill in the trenches, not dig deeper, and perhaps a football match or a sing-song might not go amiss. I feel sure my Choir would volunteer to start the singing. 

Comments

[Caroline Too]

When I facilitate meetings or workshops, I will often have to handle people disagreeing. My experience is that trying to find a way through a disagreement to some form of common position doesnt' work...

.. so instead I've taken to just changing the conversations...

for example, if people are arguing about what the current situation is.. or what the cause of the problems are... then I just announce that for the next 10 minutes anyone I hear talking about the "situation" or the "cause" will be asked to stand on their chair in silence for 5 mins...

it's done in good humour and it generally works, the participants scratch their heads, find someway else to talk about what to do next and generally create really generative, new conversations (they don't go back to the arguments when they're allowed to)

Could that happen within the anglican communion?

Could we stop talking about sex and start talking about

new initiatives for connecting with a changing world, or we could talk about how to bring grace to the parts of our cities where only power and threat seem to hold sway, maybe we could talk about times when people we disagree with have surprised and delighted us..

but I doubt that we will... and instead, flying-pig-like... we'll plummet still further into institutional irrelevance...

fortunately, good news, grace, hope and love have a wondrous way of seeping out of institutions and getting a life of their own...

I'll greive and hope in equal measure over the next few months ...

[jody]

sounds good to me caroline, the trouble is that people have suggested the 'fingers on lips' solution to issues of sexuality before - brian mclaren for one, and he was summarily kicked into touch by mark driscoll....