Spiritual Pirates

Here’s a bracing article by Corey Ichigen Hess about the wildness and intensity of Zen training. With thanks. Read the full article on his website.

... what I found was a group of wild rebellious spiritual athletes ... they had a brightness, a sturdiness, an unmistakable freedom ...


- by Corey Ichigen Hess [published at]

There seems to be a feeling among some practitioners who have never lived in a monastery or Zen center, that it is some kind of cloistered, strange place, where socially awkward people go to be alone and get away from society. That society is one thing and the temple is separate. I thought this as well before I met a couple of folks who had lived in the Monastery I lived in in Japan.

What I found instead was a group of wild rebellious spiritual athletes, like some band of bald skinny pirates, chasing after the meaning of life with zest and swag and samugi. And the most badass pirate of them all, the most intense, the most extreme, the wildest, was the Roshi, like some transparent Alpha Dog Captain Hook. Being in the monastery is like being in the spiritual major leagues or the Zen biker graduate school, with exceptional people pushing life to the limits. It is like an oven turned up all the way. It is a bunch of determined heroes, men and women, with a problem with authority, only bowing down to the Roshi because of his obvious energetic dominance. His huge sublime state of mind. He walks in the temple and everyone sits up straight, not because of an idea, but because his energy changed the cells in our bodies.

We went there because we saw a huge vessel, human potential at its ultimate expression. We saw someone who would never be fazed by our incredible intensity, our rogue spirits, our inner turmoil. He could take anything we gave him, and show us just how badass one could be. He showed us that our struggles could be transformed to really help people.

And the folks who trained there, they had a brightness, a sturdiness, an unmistakable freedom we wanted. They had been through the shit there, so that every day is a good day, no matter the circumstance. Sitting a billion hours, in the cold of winter, or being swarmed by mosquitos for days, clothes molding on our bodies. Year upon year of training, like Jedi knights.

And being forged in that oven of essence, we saw that the way to truly help society is to find a light within ourselves which can never burn out. Deepening the vow to save all sentient beings, over and over, deeper and deeper…

Continue reading the article here :

- with thanks to Corey Ichigen Hess and (Leave comments for the author on his website).

Corey Hess offers manual body therapy sessions and internal process work. He is located near Seattle, and can be contacted here.

Further thanks to Reinhard Jung.

A Prayer Book for Australia: That Was Then, This Is Now

I have just had an article published in the Australian Journal of Liturgy (16.1, May 2018, pages 20-40) which the editor of the journal, Dr. Angela McCarthy, suggests in her editorial may “bring some vibrancy to discussions” among some readers. In the article, I consider the possibilities of prayer book revision in Australian Anglicanism.


The essay was first a lecture at St. Francis Theological College, Brisbane, part of Charles Sturt University, in February this year, and below is the summary from a recent postgraduate seminar in the University of Divinity. So here is the abstract, dot-points along the way, and the concluding paragraphs (without all the footnotes).

One of my primary concerns is with ministerial formation fit for the challenges of mission. As I say in one the footnotes towards the end (that don’t appear with the main text below), “sitting in classrooms and learning theology is a precious opportunity, much to be cherished, but in and of itself is neither formation nor training for either parish or pioneer ministry.” What kind of resources for common prayer do we now need? And what do students of liturgy need to be taught, see modelled, be part of, learn to shape, and be able to engage others in?


(Following image: Station of the Cross by John Bayton, Trinity College, Melbourne. Photo: Stephen Burns. Photos at the foot of the page: Facebook page of St. Paul’s Cathedral, Melbourne— , except photos of pages 221 and 812-3 of APBA by Stephen Burns).



APBA: that was then, this is now    

There is… no real ‘prayer book for Australia’.” —-Muriel Porter

Many of our parishes are missing at least two generations, if not three.” —-Godfrey Fryar


In 1995, A Prayer Book for Australia (APBA) was the first revision of an Anglican prayer book in the twentieth century (revising An Australian Prayer Book of 1978). Now, the Anglican Church of Australia is the last of all the churches in global western Anglicanism to revise its liturgical resources. The pioneer has become stuck. Persons involved in the processes have been candid about the difficulties of both i) APBA’s production and ii) its initial reception—and those difficulties had longstanding precedents in historic polarisations in the Anglican churches in Australia. But these have intensified since 1995 such that, for a variety of reasons, common prayer no longer exists. At the same time, understanding and practice of common prayer has developed in new ways around the Anglican Communion—not least with a new missional consciousness—leaving Australia missing marks that now characterise Anglican liturgical “family resemblance.” Given that, as the Liturgy Committee of the national church acknowledged at the last General Synod, maybe less than half of Australian Anglican parishes use APBA, my reflections enquire about the future of sacramental common prayer in Australia, making some modest proposals.


1.    Scope and focus
2.    Appreciation of APBA
3.    That was then: assessments of APBA at the time
—“inadequately incorporated pluralism”? (Gillian Varcoe)
—“inadequate for the church’s liturgical life”? (Evan Burge)
4.    That was then: a longer view
—bishops Broughton, Barker, Tyrell...
—Bathurst Book vs. Vestments Ordinance, etc
—“two denominations in one organisation”? (John Davis)
5.    This is now: “sleepwalking”?
—“Sydney writ large”? (Muriel Porter)
—“catholic… loss of nerve”? (Porter)
—“waiting”? (Porter)
6.    This is now: “seriously engaged in mission”? 
—“new disturbances”? (Godfrey Fryar)
—“pressing missional needs”? (Fryar)
7.    This is now: a wider view: “common prayer does not in fact exist” (Mark Earey)
—what makes worship “Anglican”? (Earey)
—“loyalty to the doctrine of the Spirit at work in the encounter”? (Lindsay Urwin)
—“persuading Gamaliel: helping anglo-catholics engage with Fresh Expressions”? (Steven Croft)
—“liturgy designed for this place”? (Rowan Williams)
—inter-Anglican consensus
8.    From this to what next? Some modest proposals 


Extract—from the final section

…to move to suggest some contours for conversation about what, in particular, needs revision: My first clue picks up from noting that APBA was not the only thing to happen in 1995. That year also saw an important, influential, gathering of the International Anglican Liturgical Consultation, whose deliberations were not able to be reflected in APBA itself, as Gillian Varcoe notes.  One of the main outcomes of that particular gathering of IALC was a clarification of the ordo of eucharistic worship, worship which is, on some accounts (Patterns for Worship included), somehow central. The 1995 consultation proposed that all subsequent liturgical revision in the Communion should embrace a fivefold progression in eucharistic services which had often been there, albeit sometimes obscured,  but which could be brought to greater visibility, in part to reveal an Anglican “family resemblance” between rites but also, we might add, to lift up the missional shape of eucharistic celebration. That is, eucharist is a gathering around word and sacrament—both means by which “Christ giv[es] himself away in mercy at the heart of the liturgy” —turned to the world in prayer and culminating in a sending out on mission. That pattern is now clarified in manifold revised eucharistic rites around the Anglican Commission (deftly narrated in Common Worship ), as well as much more broadly, and has sometimes been accompanied by special accent on the sending.  That this pattern is there, but cluttered, in APBA is, to my mind, in itself a good enough reason to get on with revision, for APBA’s  lesser clarity on the ordo makes it now out of step with many other churches of the Anglican Communion, quite apart from the ACA’s need of help to motivate both missional worship and missional worshippers. But I also want to suggest some further things that need attention in future renewal.
     None is more important to my mind than APBA’s rather weak expression of the baptismal ecclesiology that has come to mark revised rites around the Communion over the last several decades. This is nowhere more evident than in APBA’s ordination rites, which disturbingly only once mention baptism.  Clues to what needs put right are all over the place and a fascinating path—or web—can be tracked from TEC’s Book of Common Prayer 1979 and what it called “The Baptismal Covenant” consisting of Apostles’ Creed followed by various “so what?” questions (as Jeff Lee calls them ) about Christian behaviours that corresponds to Christian belief.  Canada, New Zealand, the British Anglican churches, and it could be noted the Uniting Church in Australia’s UiW2 have all employed versions of these questions, about participation in prayer and communion (echoing Acts 2.42), about repentance, and about the worldly calling to witness to Christ in word and deed, serve the needy, and advocate for justice. Sometimes the questions of the Baptismal Covenant have been restyled as “an affirmation of commitment” (possibly used daily), a “commitment to Christian service” or a “commitment to mission”—and sometimes, sadly to my mind, they have undergone adjustment which weakens some of their original verve. But they are all a significant advance on the optional words a bishop may—or may not—say to a confirmand in Australian initiation rites.  A related weakness is that neither does APBA include anything akin to the response proposed by NZPB to the question, “who are the ministers of the church?”: “laypersons, deacons, priests and bishops.”  Australian reserve about a statement identifying laypersons as ministers may well be shaped by fear that such an affirmation might somehow lead to a slippery slope to Sydney’s proposed/sometime/suspected practice of other than presbyters presiding at eucharist.  But whatever such reserve protects, it also harms, with debilitating fallout for the vocation of laity, and free fuel for clerics taking over the liturgy, so bungling its very nature as work of the people. That liturgical revision might make good at least some of what is lacking about ministry as a baptismal category in APBA is another compelling argument for liturgical change.
    I could make a much longer list, but add here, and briefly, just two more things. The first recalls Burge’s comparison of local material in New Zealand and Australian books, in which the former fares relatively well, but not the latter. The need not least for better recognition in prayer of the multicultural reality of Australian society is now pressing, quite apart from openness to renewal of the Anglican church in this country coming in significant part, if at all, from migrant communities of Anglicans and other Christians from elsewhere arriving as guests and managing to shape for good the so-called “host” culture of the church,  not least with the riches of their own liturgical experience in their homelands. In addition to that, questions should be provoked about the adequacy of APBA by even the slightest analysis of Australian census material. In 1996, fifteen percent of the population was born overseas; in 2016, more than twenty-eight percent.  Whatever APBA in its day offered by way of stability of liturgical form to people in this country, it cannot possibly do so now, as less of the population has been in this country to experience such (supposed) stability.  
     Contending with the census also leads to my final point. In 1996, twenty four percent of the Australian population identified as Anglican; just twenty years later, only thirteen (of course only a minority of whom are in a habit of regular worship in an Anglican congregation).  A skein of hard questions that need to be faced include: whose “tradition” is APBA preserving? Who is “us”? Who are we? A church of (lay and ordained) ministers embracing their mission? While I affirm that continued use of APBA or something like it will be very important in pastoral accompaniment into late old age of a certain kind of Anglican in Australia, I very much doubt that APBA, as it is—and certainly not as it has oftentimes come to be used, shrunk down—has much to offer the countless others who need to encounter a church in mission with liturgical approaches, liturgical convictions, and liturgical resources apt to that,  and leaders who are open to renewal and formed to understand and trained in practice with those resources. To advocate for moving on from APBA is by no means to appeal to move on from sacramental common prayer, but rather to see the need to get much more engaged with the invitation into such prayer and care about the pathways to it. My hope of such movement is, admittedly, I confess, a long way from where my Australian experience  suggests a lot of the slow, waiting, sleepwalking or whatever church “is at,”/stuck, but I hope that there are enough others left who will wrestle with the challenges to make worship and mission collide among those with whom they share the journey of faith and the calling to witness in the world we assuredly believe God loves.



“What do you need from heaven tonight?”  Worship with Hillsong

Stephen Burns reflects on his visit to the popular Hillsong Church. Read the full article in our Rituals and Communities section:

“What do you need from heaven tonight?” asked the pastor in the opening portion of worship at 4.30pm gathering of Hillsong in the Atheneum Theatre in Melbourne’s CBD on October 1, 2017. The transcendent reference in his question echoed other language in the service:  that we might be “marked by heaven,” for instance. But other talk from the pastor held the assembly in time and place: it was Grand Finals Weekend ... READ MORE ⇨

Projected baptisms, music, preaching

Projected baptisms, music, preaching