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MAKING A DIFFERENCE: self evaluation and reflection
by Rev John Guest of St Margaret's Parish Church, Stanford-le-Hope
“I am not a theologian, I’m a clown!”
The opening sentence of my first book, Prophetic Balloon Modelling (Foolish Reflections on Work, Rest and Play), not only states how I see myself but also provides a “foolish” introduction to what my Foreword writer, John Leach, calls “downright down-to-earth common sense”. And although it might seem the very antithesis of the qualification needed to attempt any postgraduate study in theology and ministry, I plead to let it stand as the cry of one “called to make a difference” in a way that is wholly different.
Theology is not solely the province of the theologian nor is Ministry the sole department of the minister. If Horace Walpole’s oft-quoted assertion "this world is a comedy to those that think, a tragedy to those that feel" has any basis in truth then there may well be a closer correlation between humour and study than we commonly think. And if that is scant evidence then a brief examination of “who I am” as opposed to “what I do” might serve to strengthen the argument.
 I describe myself as a short, bald, slightly overweight individual on the wrinkly side of fifty with a patient wife, two amazing children and a wide circle of friends. I am privileged to have three occupations: a minister of religion, a published author and a white-faced clown. I call these “occupations” but only in the sense that they take up my time. In point of fact I am employed by the Church of England as a “clerk in holy orders” currently serving as the Rector of Stanford le Hope in Essex. I tell people who ask that this is what I “do” whereas who I “am” is a clown, one who “ran away to join the church as it paid marginally more”. To put it another way, I “am a clown” whereas I “do a vicar”. When I retire as Rector of St Margaret’s I will still be a clown but I will cease to be a clergyman.
I appreciate that many, if not most, clergy take a far more vocational view of ordained priesthood than I but then the dynamic (one might almost say “mystical”) overlap between the clown and the clergyman means that the “call” is just to be different and in that difference to make a difference. Francis of Assisi would send out his disciples with the admonition Go into the world and preach the gospel … use words if you have to. Not all that may be conveyed of truth, insight and wisdom applies to the printed page or even the spoken word. Sometimes, and in my experience, often, clowns “say” a great deal more than theologians and even have significantly more opportunity to do so. So perhaps we may let the opening sentence stand without embarrassment. At the end of A Midsummer Night’s Dream Puck says if we shadows have offended, think but this and all is mended: that you did but slumber here, while these visions did appear and this weak and idle theme no more yielding but a dream. Perhaps my “foolishness” may parody the “weak and idle theme” that Shakespeare portrays and reach further than the general scope of regular theological enquiry. Self-deprecation, as you may already have gleaned, is not one of my foremost qualities!
I was born on the south coast in the small town of Southwick in Sussex and, although it took until 1984 to realize it, I was born a clown. Usually the shortest in my class and academically weak in my early years, I strove to gain attention and to make others laugh – with me or at me. Fast approaching his ninetieth year and some six years after her death, I realize I get most of my character from my father and most of my personality from my mother. From the age of five when I stood in my little blue waistcoat on the tables at the Marigold restaurant in Brighton and sang to the customers to my regular appearances in the dramatic interludes at St. David’s, Lampeter, I knew I wanted to make a significant difference in the lives of other people. I am equally sure that this desire has never been wholly unselfish but then no comedian, storyteller or clown can claim to be solely there for the audience. Perhaps saints are the only people who exist alone for the benefit of others and whilst in my higher moments I might have aspired to be one, I don’t think I can claim to have even come close.
In my varied life I have been privileged to have driven a butcher’s van, a taxi and a fork-lift, to have worked with special-needs children, foreign students and market gardeners and to have served in places as diverse as a language school, an hotel restaurant and a turkey farm. I have lived in East and West Midlands, Oxford, Wales and Liverpool and have had the opportunity to visit Africa, Asia, North America and many parts of Europe. I have observed that in the variety of cultures, philosophies and belief systems there are commonalities that proclaim the universal truths of the human condition and that underline the assertion that who we are is of far greater importance than what we do. Nevertheless, in so many instances, we suffer the outrageous tyranny that what we do is what defines us and therefore, if what we do is perceived to have little or lesser value then our occupation and activity says far more than it should about who we are. In the areas that are considered influential and significant, stress and busyness have increased to epidemic proportions and historic boundaries in the fields of work and leisure are much less easy to define.
 Whilst I have written extensively about the balance between work, play and rest I have been no less immune from the effects of changing work patterns and the struggle to fit the proverbial quart into the pint container. Whilst my formative years coincided with the development of the “permissive society” during the sixties, the exponential growth of communication and information technology have had a much more profound effect upon my life, leisure and work. My laptop makes a hard-working and efficient servant; it makes a voracious and unforgiving master. No less may be said of my mobile phone which communicates so swiftly with colleagues and parishioners alike but fires text messages at such a rate that my life often seems hemmed and crowded and space for stillness is quickly marginalized.
Honest reflection and practical responses to lifestyle are essential in my profession if I am ever to be sufficiently “independent” to speak to a noisome world with any authority yet it is in the very struggle for difference and involvement in the commonplace and everyday that my mission and vocation become authentic. The God I claim to represent and serve identified so completely with humanity that he who before was only numinous now took hands and feet and “walked among us”. Bishop Graham Cray affirms that Jesus in his incarnation identified with the world, in his crucifixion critiqued the world and in his resurrection transcended the world. Without taking the time and space to fully unpack this assertion, it is still worth noting in terms of my own personal refection that identification, critique and transcendence are powerful motivators in lifestyle and ministry. As a clergyman I am called to live among the people I serve with (in fact, it is a requirement for Church of England incumbents) and as a clown I am called to critique in a gentle and humorous way the social mores and perceived values of the public space.
In the fast-moving and fast-changing world of the twenty first century, it is still an oddity to meet a “clown in holy orders”; still a conversation point at weddings and funerals and in unfamiliar environs. Although I never learned to juggle properly, I am still called upon to juggle roles and personalities without compromising integrity. “How genuine is this man?” is often the unasked question. My response would be too trite to convey in words or dogma or even to adequately explain in sermon or article. The answer must be lived: enacted as a drama of lifestyle that will hopefully not only identify with and critique but also transcend in a way that is both attractive and compelling.
 As a vicar (in my case it is actually rector, but the explanation often gets tedious!) one major factor I have discovered about my job is how easy it is for the method to take over from the motive. The paperwork, the administration, the “means of delivery of the product” takes over from the product itself so that I become more concerned about how I do something than why I am doing something and who for. In theological terms one might call this an over-preoccupation with “building the church” as opposed to a right focus on daily “seeking the Kingdom”.
This is not peculiar to the ordained ministry of course. My close observance of schools and the education system over more than thirty years has shown that targets and league tables are often forced into taking the place of circle time and fun classroom activities. Teachers are pushed into teaching subjects rather than children and many heads see no contact with young people in their schools because their time is taken up with management and paperwork. And the NHS is no different. A fellow clown, Hunter “Patch” Adams, serves as a doctor in US medical system and challenged the establishment to stop treating illnesses and conditions and start treating patients because people who have sickness are more important than the sickness they have.
In all walks of society and business, once work becomes an end in itself, rather than the means to an end it is supposed to be, then the method has taken over from the message and the value of the work undertaken is lost. And work that has no real value produces workers who feel themselves undervalued and without meaning.
Every time I take my eyes off the reason I am vicar I get lost in the detail and trivia of the “daily grind” and become less than I should be. Worse – those I am called to serve become less than they should be and I am lost. There is a motto on the desk of one of my office colleagues. It says: “never get so involved in the work of the Lord that you forget the Lord of the work”. A simple aphorism but worth remembering!
If, like Jesus, I am truly to identify with those I believe I am called to serve then, becoming like them will hopefully remind me what it is I am called to do, why I am called to do it and who I am called to do it for. And just maybe this attitude will influence other professions as well.
As a clown I am called to “critique” the world I inhabit in a rather unique way. The concept of the “holy fool” is not so far-fetched and there are rather more of us about than you might imagine. The tradition is actually rather ancient. In the Eastern Orthodox church there was the order of “salos”, an early clown-priest. Jean-Jacques Suurmond writes of one called Symeon as follows:
He entered the women’s baths naked, relieved himself in the market-place, forced his way into a room where a woman was sleeping and made as if he were going to take off his garments, and during a church service mounted the pulpit to pelt the congregation with notes.
I don’t recall following this particular example myself but “Gof the Clown” surfaces in ministry rather more often than greasepaint and motley allow and quite possibly more than many find comfortable!
If the concept of clowning in such a “serious” profession causes more than the occasional raised eyebrow then it should be remembered that the nature of critique is often to challenge the accepted norm and to cause discomfort (even embarrassment) to expose hidden truth. My model is a naked and broken Jew on a cross after all and, if that doesn’t cause discomfort and embarrassment, not to mention shock and outrage, then nothing will.
 The tension between the cleric and the clown and the balance between the work and the play is maybe a reflection of the tensions and balances within me as a human being; what I do being less important than who I am. Advancing years are a great motivator towards refection and this essay further prompts my self-analysis. I am in the final quarter of my working life and, as of today (January 14th 2011) have precisely 3439 days until I retire. I know this because I planned it and because the book of Psalms tells us to “number our days aright that we may gain a heart of wisdom”. This piece begins by suggesting I tend more to foolishness than wisdom and to the play of clowns than the halls of academia but maybe it is in the consideration of the future that I truly move towards transcendence. Although I fully intend to lay aside the clerical collar on 14th June 2020 I hope by then to have incorporated the unsteady concept of “rest” into the balance of my life.
Can it be that the Jesus who was “full of grace and truth” was the most balanced human being ever because he so powerfully exhibited the perfect equanimity of identification, critique and transcendence? And was this what made him supreme in making a difference in the world in which he lived? A manger, a cross and an empty tomb are the outward signs of the difference he made but surely the people who follow him speak even more? Clowns and theologians and many others on the spectrum in between exhibit “Kingdom signs” that continue to relay the profound story of life.
One final reflection relates to my physical condition as, well into the second half of my life, it begins to gently decay. Twenty five years an ME (Chronic Fatigue Syndrome) sufferer taught me the value of rest, perseverance and obedience. I had to walk three quarters of the way up Mount Kilimanjaro to lay that burden down! Eleven years with type 2 Diabetes has taught me something of the need for balance and critical self evaluation, if only in trying to eat properly and be a little kinder to myself.
Writing, prayer, work, reflection, play and physical weakness have all played their part in determining who I am and aspire to be. Family and friends are generally patient and kind and God still surprises me. I still hope that my best years lay ahead of me and that, when they finally lay this old clown in the ground, my tombstone will read:
John Andrew Kenneth Guest: “He made a difference!”
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John Guest, 21/07/2011 |
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