Wednesday, November 02, 2016

Terry

And when I mention saints, I'm certainly not hewing to the official Catholic definition*. No miracles required, save the one of living genuinely and kindly. Bodhisattvas certainly count, the ones who point toward enlightenment. Or maybe endarkenment, where we are not dazzled. So tzadik, walī, rishi, guru, or arhat.

Which leads me, as Dr. Ramirez's twitter last night, to Terry Waite. Heard him at a lecture at our library years ago, when his book Travels with a Primate came out. His presence, kindness, humanity and humility settled over us. Such warmth, intelligence, so genuine. He has a new book out, which we have on order. Out of the Silence.

This is the part of his lecture I remember, or a very similar quote.

I was fortunate, firstly, because through life I had been an avid reader and therefore I had built up a store of books, poetry and prose in my memory. Secondly, I’d been brought up as an Anglican—I’m an Anglican Christian—and had been brought up with the Book of Common Prayer. The language of that was very, very helpful. I had unconsciously memorised it as a choir boy. If I can just give you an example of what I mean from one of the great old collects of the prayer book:

Lighten our darkness, we beseech thee, O Lord; and by thy great mercy defend us from all perils and dangers of this night . . .

That is very, very meaningful when you’re sitting in darkness. That collect not only has meaning but it also has poetry and rhythm. There is a relationship between identity, language and prayer; somehow they help you hold together at your centre.

Some people may find this strange, but I never engaged in what is called extemporary prayer during that time. I felt that if I did I would be begin to, sort of, go down a one-way track, reveal my own psychological vulnerability and just get into the business of saying, ‘Oh God, get me out of here’—which isn’t prayer at all. That’s just being like a child. So by falling back on that which I knew, the Prayer Book and the balance of that, I was able to keep a bit more balance in my mind and also maintain some degree of inner balance.

-T. Waite


*Catholics believe that both types of saints (canonized and acclaimed) are already in Heaven, which is why one of the requirements for the canonization process is proof of miracles performed by the deceased Christian after his death. (Such miracles, the Church teaches, are the result of the saint's intercession with God in heaven.) Canonized saints can be venerated anywhere and prayed to publicly, and their lives are held up to Christians still struggling here on earth as examples to be imitated.

8 comments:

Catalyst said...

Hmmm. The only saints I believe in currently are the New Orleans Saints.

Sabine said...

Will be an interesting read. When you are done, I recommend Brian Keenan's An Evil Cradling. Terry Waite was taken hostage when he was negotiating Brian Keenan's release. Brian's writing has moved me as nothing has ever done before and since.

Zhoen said...

Cat,
Oh, I don't believe in them, mind. Not believe as such. Nor the NOS, btw. Imaginary team.

Sabine,
I will look him up, thank you.

the polish chick said...

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Pam said...

My mother once chaired a meeting at which Terry Waite was the main speaker. She was very impressed by him. Brian Keenan's book is wonderful and John McCarthy's (another hostage) is also interesting, in a different way. Astonishing to survive such treatment, though I imagine it must leave a permanent mark.

Gentle Eye said...

Brian Keenan's book is an astonishing piece of work. I've never forgotten his reflection on being the prisoner of, and talking to, people who hold an extreme religious belief and use it to justify their violent course of action.

Zhoen said...

Pam, Gentle,
I'm not sure I'm up for reading about surviving torture anytime soon, no matter how well written. But I'm filing them away for another day.

Lucy said...

He gave a 'thought for the day' on the radio after some other hostages, I think perhaps in Rwanda, were murdered. Talked about the soul in a way which didn't sound untenable, and concluded 'but it is so very bitter'. Always stuck with me, that he didn't try to make anything better about it.