A Silent Melody: An experience of contemporary spiritual
life
Shirley Du Boulay
DLT £12.99
(978-0-232-53074-2)
Church Times Bookshop £11.70 (Use code
CT522 )
THIS is a brilliant but ultimately baffling book, which keeps on
asking questions and even proposing answers, but is never totally
convinced by any of them. Shirley du Boulay is a gifted biographer
and former BBC television producer. It is easy to be mesmerised by
the beauty of her visions and metaphors, and yet even at the end of
the book she is still struggling with the question that has haunted
her days: "how can religion and spirituality be brought closer
together?"
The book is a kind of autobiography (and all the better for
that) with theological, experiential, and didactic overtones. We
meet her when she is a child, enthralled by a mystic encounter with
a beech tree, and when she is a religious television producer forty
years ago, whose programmes focused the camera lens on the beating
heartof the spirit rather than the practice of religion. In the
1960s and '70sshe was a child of her time: Hare Krishna, flower
power, the Maharishi Yogi, and "All you need is love". It's all
here and much more: no spiritual cupboard is left unsearched.
But then she met and fell in love with John Harriott, a Jesuit
priest and writer, a man of deep religious faith and yet profoundly
spiritual. She found in him a living example of religion and
spirituality at one. He left the Society of Jesus, was laicised,
and they married. Hehad, and has, a profound effect on her life,
despite his prematuredeath in 1990. Not without questioning, she
was eventually received into the Roman Catholic Church, and was for
a while won over by the liturgy, the music, the incense, and the
sacramental "presence". There are some rather ungenerous contrasts
between this experience of the RC Church in that post-conciliar
springtime and the cold, wordy Anglicanism of her childhood.
Eventually, after Harriott's death, still strugglingwith the
disciplines of religion compared with what she sees asthe glorious
liberty of unfettered spirituality, she ceased to practise the
faith that she had so recently embraced.
Struggling to find purpose for the rest of her life, she threw
herself into an intensely private search for an answer. A 150-mile
pilgrimage on foot from Winchester to Canterbury was part of it,
but so were stranger spiritual elements, including an exploration
of shamanism, complete with the search for her "power animal" from
the spirit world. It turned out to be a horse from her Berkshire
childhood.
Even at the end of the book - which is not, of course,
necessarily the end of the journey - she is wrestling with the same
question. She quotes, without entirely endorsing, the answer of two
academic researchers: "To step into a worship service is to find
one's attention being directed away from oneself towards something
higher. By contrast . . . to enter into the holistic milieu is to
find attention directed towards oneself and one's inner life."
That, in a way, sums up the argument, but it also tells in simple
words the story of this book. In her own words, "it is an attempt
to pin down the butterfly while longing to live in its freedom and
glory." "I would dearly love", she writes, "to belong to a
religion, to give myself heart and soul and to find all the answers
to my questions . . . but,in the end, I have failed. I cannot give
myself heart and soul to one tradition to the exclusion of all the
others". Hers is a vivid, powerful, and moving book, but at the end
the deer still pants for the water brooks, thirsty but
confused.
Canon David Winter is a retired cleric in the diocese of
Oxford, and a former Head of Religious Broadcasting at the
BBC