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humility
October 2009 
Wondering about Self-Congratulation....
Adrian Pyle
I find myself in "church meetings" from time to time. There are frustrations associated with most institutional meetings but I couldn't put my finger on a particular frustration I had with church meetings.
Then someone who never attends such meetings found themselves in one. And I had to ask - at the conclusion - what they thought of it.
They told me they detected a significant feeling of self-congratulation. By this they meant, even amongst the quite open-minded group that were present, there was a pervading sense that the church "had spirituality under control" or was "the peak body for spirituality."
Suddenly a light went on for me. That's the frustration I often feel. A mild sense - (well, often more than mild) - of a stifling self-sufficiency and a separation from the world.
Recently the Uniting Church in Australia made some marvellous decisions about its constitutional preamble. The preamble now recognises an existing indigenous spirituality in this land prior to European settlement. Knowing the mechanics of the church, it is a wonderful achievement for the church to make this institutional recognition. So be assured that I don't want to detract form that achievement. Yet the hyperbole from some church groups about the decision might lead you to believe that the institutional church had just led society down a new path.
Let's face it, hundreds of people have been following God's spirit (church jargon for the perceived tendency in the cosmos to value diversity and gather that diversity towards unity) in this direction. Various world citizens - within and beyond the church - have recognised a profound spiritual consciousness - pre-settlement - in our indigenous brothers and sisters. And this has been happening for quite a long time.
The institutional church is finally recognising that movement of the spirit. I am not criticising that response time. I am simply asking that we say our "hoorays" humbly.......... And recognise that there are so many other "movements of the spirit' where parts of the world are calling the church towards them .....not the other way around. I'm fairly sure that has always been the case.
I guess that last paragraph sums up my "wondering" for this blog entry. We - individuals and institutions - can all be self-congratulatory. We all need help to say our "hoorays" humbly. I wonder I the church would be open to a little help on that front too?
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hi Adrian, you have helped me put my finger on part of the reason why, after attending church and being deeply involved nearly my whole life, I left for the better part of two and a half years. Yes, I am back now, just this week, but I am changed… that reminds me of this poem, do you know it?
Easter 1916 - William Butler Yeats
I have met them at close of day
Coming with vivid faces
From counter or desk among grey
Eighteenth-century houses.
I have passed with a nod of the head
Or polite meaningless words,
Or have lingered awhile and said
Polite meaningless words,
And thought before I had done
Of a mocking tale or a gibe
To please a companion
Around the fire at the club,
Being certain that they and I
But lived where motley is worn:
All changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.
II
That woman's days were spent
In ignorant good will,
Her nights in argument
Until her voice grew shrill.
What voice more sweet than hers
When young and beautiful,
She rode to harriers?
This man had kept a school
And rode our winged horse.
This other his helper and friend
Was coming into his force;
He might have won fame in the end,
So sensitive his nature seemed,
So daring and sweet his thought.
This other man I had dreamed
A drunken, vain-glorious lout.
He had done most bitter wrong
To some who are near my heart,
Yet I number him in the song;
He, too, has resigned his part
In the casual comedy;
He, too, has been changed in his turn,
Transformed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.
III
Hearts with one purpose alone
Through summer and winter, seem
Enchanted to a stone
To trouble the living stream.
The horse that comes from the road,
The rider, the birds that range
From cloud to tumbling cloud,
Minute by minute change.
A shadow of cloud on the stream
Changes minute by minute;
A horse-hoof slides on the brim;
And a horse plashes within it
Where long-legged moor-hens dive
And hens to moor-cocks call.
Minute by minute they live:
The stone's in the midst of all.
IV
Too long a sacrifice
Can make a stone of the heart.
O when may it suffice?
That is heaven's part, our part
To murmur name upon name,
As a mother names her child
When sleep at last has come
On limbs that had run wild.
What is it but nightfall?
No, no, not night but death.
Was it needless death after all?
For England may keep faith
For all that is done and said.
We know their dream; enough
To know they dreamed and are dead.
And what if excess of love
Bewildered them till they died?
I write it out in a verse –
MacDonagh and MacBride
And Connolly and Pearse
Now and in time to be,
Wherever green is worn,
Are changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.
I am glad it spoke to your situation Nicole. Thank you for taking the time to let me know and sharing that profound piece from William Butler Yeats which I had not seen but I am playing with very gratefully.