Been an interesting weekend. Yes I did watch the longest Wimbledon final ever, and admire both players, so was happy for Federer and sorry for Roddick, and would have felt the same if the result had been the other way round. And sat Sunday evening, from 7.30'ish p.m. to 8.30'ish p.m., in my garden, sipping tea and reading, on a warm balmy evening with no midges in sight. And this in the West of Scotland in July!
Saturday we went to the People's Palace on Glasgow Green and spent the morning revising my Scottish political history of the past couple of centuries. The banner carried by the Suffragette's in 1910; the manifesto signed by a dozen ILP activists in the 1930's; archive films of strikes, marches and protests that took place in Glasgow in the past century. 
These included footage of the early 1970's Upper Clyde Shipbuilders' work in, inspired by Jimmy Reid and for those of us who remember it, a still potent reminder of how organised labour can at times grow out of and express the deep social, moral and human concerns of ordinary folk, in the face of political indifference and economic decisions made with little thought to their social consequences. I am a Baptist, a paid up member of the dissenting tradition, an upholder of freedom of religious conscience and of the right to think differently from the prevailing establishment. Being Baptist also commits me to communal action and a valuing of community as a primary context for human development and spiritual formation.
Amongst the exhibits in the People's palace is the corner given over to Rangers and Celtic football clubs, the "Old Firm". To get to the Palace on Saturday morning we were held up at Glasgow Cross as the annual Orange Lodge Parade passed. Eight thousand marchers, 90 bands, and music that was martial, belligerent and religiously validated as militantly Protestant and anti Roman Catholic. 
The marching season, whether under the Union Flag or the Repaublican Tricolour, creates a problem for me as a Baptist. On the one hand I believe deeply in religious tolerance, the rights of people to express and support their religious convictions without intimidation. But it doesn't commit me to endorse activities which have only a tangential connection with religion, and which by their very nature are intimidatory – the words that accompany the tunes, whether the marchers are blue or green, and whether the words are sung audibly or not, are intentionally offensive, like playground taunt songs laced with menace. Sectarianism isn't a mere confrontation of religious differences; it is a social toxin distilled from bigotry, overblown historical myth, and a people blindness largely caused by the psychological need to find security by identifying a common enemy to demonise as 'the other'. And the hate virus infects both sides. (The photo is deliberately chosen for its light-hearted seriousness).
It is when such language and social attitudes surface that I am in a dilemma as a Baptist Christian. I find it impossible to make any connection between those banners, sashes and tunes with their vitriolic intent, and the Jesus encountered in the Gospels, the living Lord of the Church whose ministry is reconciliation. I wholly support the Scottish Government's initatives to tackle sectarianism, which is both a religious and social reality in the West of Scotland. And while I am committed to freedom of religious expression, I recognise that such a conviction cannot oblige me to legitimate or defend these annual hate-fests of blue and green marches through the streets of a City where in a proud history, others have marched and suffered to win those human rights, civic freedoms and social values that safeguard and undergird responsible citizenship. And where many still live in peaceful co-existence with neighbours whose differences are cause for interest and celebration and welcome, rather than suspicion and ridicule and segregation. For those interested, there's an earlier post on sectarianism over at this post.
An interesting weekend, with much to ponder, enjoy, and ponder again.
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