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  • Why read a book for a third time, when it’s out of date, and you’ve read It twice before?

    Many a year ago, when I was a young Baptist pastor in my first church, from the very start I read widely. The Principal of our Baptist College urged us to occasionally read books with which we fully expected to disagree – and to do so prepared to change our minds by allowing the evidence and argument to be heard, therefore reading each book fairly and intelligently.

    P1000503By fair and intelligent he meant be aware of your own presuppositions and prejudices, be open to new information, and allow the same weight to the strong points of the argument as you do to perceived weaknesses. By the time I was in R E O White's classes I had already completed a degree majoring in Moral Philosophy and Comparative Religion. Those years at University and College levered open the mind's doors and windows which can easily be locked from the inside by prejudice, intellectual insecurity, spiritual timidity and assumed theological correctness.

    I still have a note of the books I read over those first decades of ministry. I followed a programme which I never departed from except for my later years in theological education when reading and writing were necessarily focused on subject areas I taught. Briefly I planned a year's reading around 10 key areas of knowledge and ensured I read one or two of the more important books in these areas. And yes, some of these were books with which I had fully expected to disagree. 

    Amongst the books I read, and have since re-read, and am currently more than half way through for the third time is The Question of God. Protestant Theology in the Twentieth Century, by Heinz Zahrnt. Why read it 45 years later? Why even hang on to a book that was summarising contemporary theology that is no longer contemporary? I blame R E O White!

    1. Along with John McQuarrie's Twentieth Century Religious Thought, this book excels as a critical and appreciative introduction to the giants of those days – Barth, Brunner, Gollwitzer, Bonhoeffer, Heidegger, Thielicke, Bultmann, Tillich. Zahrnt was writing as their near contemporary, and as a theologian soaked in the theology of the times.
    2. The writing is lucid, and engaged sympathetically and fairly with the various figures whose thought is examined, explained and placed against the cultural and intellectual backgrounds out of which people like Barth, Bonhoeffer, Bultmann and Tillic wrote. 
    3. The index is superb. Most key subjects can be traced and chased throughout the volume using an index that is full enough without being guilty of the modern sins of either no index, or one that software compiles indiscriminately. This is an index intended to direct the reader to the significant mentions of the subject throughout. A well constructed index beats Google every time, because it doesn't make the searcher's decisions for them!
    4.   The book is an intellectual history that traces the last 150 years of European theological thought from Schleiermacher and Harnack, through Barth and on into the beginnings of secular Christianity, and theological upheaval in the 1960's and early 70's. Zahrnt is like a commentator and reporter right in the mix of theological events as they happen. The result is reportage of enduring value as we have moved from modernity to post modernity and whatever else we name this other side of modernity now well into the 21st Century.
    5. There is much within this book with which I disagree. This isn't safe theology from my favourite restaurant that is always to my taste. I have come to Barth late in my life, and still with many questions and at times inner dissent. Bonhoeffer I admire and have learned from repeatedly and deeply. Bultmann's great project of demythologisation was a storm centre throughout mid to late 20th Century New Testament scholarship. I never bought into Bultmann's approach, but I know of no more critically appreciative account of what Bultmann aimed to achieve than Zahrnt's relatively brief but sympathetic and corrective explanations of Bultmann's methodology and motivation as a man of profound faith and evangelical loyalty to the gospel of Jesus as he understood it.
    6. All of this, and much more, makes Zahrnt's volume well worth paying the time for another guided tour through a period of theology that, if it is now consigned to a museum, it's a museum of contemporary theologians whose influential reach continues to challenge, influence and question our own contemporary attempts at theo-logos, God-talk.
  • Ascribe Greatness to our God, the Rock: Thought for the Day March 6-12, 2023


    DSC02967
    Ascribe Greatness to our God the Rock.

    Monday

    Genesis 49.22-24 “Joseph is a fruitful vine, a fruitful vine near a spring, whose branches climb over a wall. With bitterness archers attacked him; they shot at him with hostility. But his bow remained steady, his strong arms stayed limber, because of the hand of the Mighty One of Jacob, because of the Shepherd, the Rock of Israel.”

    Jacob is blessing all his sons. In blessing Joseph he describes God as “the Rock of Israel.” God is Rock-like – solid, a permanent and reliable foundation, a refuge place, a shelter and a shade. Rocks last forever; so does God, and God’s promises.

    Tuesday

    Exodus 17.5-6 The Lord answered Moses, “Go out in front of the people. Take with you some of the elders of Israel and take in your hand the staff with which you struck the Nile, and go.  I will stand there before you by the rock at Horeb. Strike the rock, and water will come out of it for the people to drink.”

    God’s people were tired, thirsty and full of complaints. You can’t survive the wilderness without water. It is in the hardest places, the rock places, that we need God most. This story is a reminder that out of our hardest experiences God’s mercy pours out. The rock at Horeb was a place of salvation, the place where God promised, against all the odds, life-giving water.

    Wednesday

     1 Corinthians 10.1-4 “Our ancestors were all under the cloud and that they all passed through the sea.  They were all baptized into Moses in the cloud and in the sea. They all ate the same spiritual food and drank the same spiritual drink; for they drank from the spiritual rock that accompanied them, and that rock was Christ.”

    Centuries later, Paul told the story of the rock at Horeb to converted Gentiles in Corinth. This was no static, fixed landmark. The rock Moses struck pointed forward to Jesus, the source of living water. “That Rock was Christ.” So the rock of salvation, the source of living water, the well of water springing up to eternal life – is Christ – and whoever drinks it, Jesus said, will never thirst again!

    DSC02997

    Thursday

    Psalm 18.2 “The Lord is my Rock, my Fortress and Deliverer; my God is my Rock in whom I take Refuge. He is my Shield and the Horn of my salvation, my Stronghold.”

    Every word is about strength, safety, reliability, protection/ No wonder Luther wrote, “A mighty fortress is our God, a bulwark never failing.” The Psalms have always been the favourite texts of those under pressure, just the right words when we are feeling pursued by chance or circumstance. Just look at those 9 capital letters, the descriptive names of God. A good verse to have handy when things get on top of us.

    Friday

    Isaiah 51.1 “Listen to me you who pursue righteousness, and who seek the Lord. Look to the rock from which you were cut and to the quarry from which you were hewn.”

    A chip off the old block, we are each chiselled from the rock from which we were cut. Look back over the years of your life, and the life of the saints before us. We are all cut from the same rock, and that Rock is Christ. Isaiah is encouraging folk who are struggling in faith, telling them “you’re part of a people called, guided and provided for by God. You are rock, the same Rock on whom the whole church is founded.

    Saturday

    Matthew 16.18. “And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it.”  

    Peter, petros, rock. The rock on which the church is built is the confession of Jesus as the Christ, the Son of God. Not the sometimes volatile Peter who fails just like the rest of us. But faith in Christ, the confession Jesus is Lord. That’s the name the church lives by, the rock-bed of truth on which the church stands. And not even hell can undermine that foundation deeply embedded in the eternal truth of redeeming love. Facing the cross, looking at these uncertain disciples who would surely sometimes fail, Jesus said, “On this rock – I will build my church.” He looks at us the same way.

    DSC02993

    Sunday

    Deuteronomy 32.3-4 “I will proclaim the name of the Lord. Oh, praise the greatness of our God! He is the Rock, his works are perfect, and all his ways are just. A faithful God who does no wrong, upright and just is he.”

    Of all the things you would choose to say about God, how many of us would say this? A Rock whose works are perfect. A God who can do no wrong. Faithfulness is the word we use for love and care that is rock solid. Justice is the word we use when wrong is made right, and good overcomes evil, based on the rock-solid righteousness of God. That’s who God is. That’s what God is about in our lives, and in our world.

    Faithful one, so unchanging; ageless one, you're my rock of peace;
    Lord of all I depend on You, I call out to You again and again.

    You are my rock in times of trouble, you lift me up when I fall down.
    All through the storm, your love is the anchor, my hope is in You alone.

  • Ascribe Greatness to our God, the Rock: Thought for the Day March 6-12, 2023


    DSC02967
    Ascribe Greatness to our God the Rock.

    Monday

    Genesis 49.22-24 “Joseph is a fruitful vine, a fruitful vine near a spring, whose branches climb over a wall. With bitterness archers attacked him; they shot at him with hostility. But his bow remained steady, his strong arms stayed limber, because of the hand of the Mighty One of Jacob, because of the Shepherd, the Rock of Israel.”

    Jacob is blessing all his sons. In blessing Joseph he describes God as “the Rock of Israel.” God is Rock-like – solid, a permanent and reliable foundation, a refuge place, a shelter and a shade. Rocks last forever; so does God, and God’s promises.

    Tuesday

    Exodus 17.5-6 The Lord answered Moses, “Go out in front of the people. Take with you some of the elders of Israel and take in your hand the staff with which you struck the Nile, and go.  I will stand there before you by the rock at Horeb. Strike the rock, and water will come out of it for the people to drink.”

    God’s people were tired, thirsty and full of complaints. You can’t survive the wilderness without water. It is in the hardest places, the rock places, that we need God most. This story is a reminder that out of our hardest experiences God’s mercy pours out. The rock at Horeb was a place of salvation, the place where God promised, against all the odds, life-giving water.

    Wednesday

     1 Corinthians 10.1-4 “Our ancestors were all under the cloud and that they all passed through the sea.  They were all baptized into Moses in the cloud and in the sea. They all ate the same spiritual food and drank the same spiritual drink; for they drank from the spiritual rock that accompanied them, and that rock was Christ.”

    Centuries later, Paul told the story of the rock at Horeb to converted Gentiles in Corinth. This was no static, fixed landmark. The rock Moses struck pointed forward to Jesus, the source of living water. “That Rock was Christ.” So the rock of salvation, the source of living water, the well of water springing up to eternal life – is Christ – and whoever drinks it, Jesus said, will never thirst again!

    DSC02997

    Thursday

    Psalm 18.2 “The Lord is my Rock, my Fortress and Deliverer; my God is my Rock in whom I take Refuge. He is my Shield and the Horn of my salvation, my Stronghold.”

    Every word is about strength, safety, reliability, protection/ No wonder Luther wrote, “A mighty fortress is our God, a bulwark never failing.” The Psalms have always been the favourite texts of those under pressure, just the right words when we are feeling pursued by chance or circumstance. Just look at those 9 capital letters, the descriptive names of God. A good verse to have handy when things get on top of us.

    Friday

    Isaiah 51.1 “Listen to me you who pursue righteousness, and who seek the Lord. Look to the rock from which you were cut and to the quarry from which you were hewn.”

    A chip off the old block, we are each chiselled from the rock from which we were cut. Look back over the years of your life, and the life of the saints before us. We are all cut from the same rock, and that Rock is Christ. Isaiah is encouraging folk who are struggling in faith, telling them “you’re part of a people called, guided and provided for by God. You are rock, the same Rock on whom the whole church is founded.

    Saturday

    Matthew 16.18. “And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it.”  

    Peter, petros, rock. The rock on which the church is built is the confession of Jesus as the Christ, the Son of God. Not the sometimes volatile Peter who fails just like the rest of us. But faith in Christ, the confession Jesus is Lord. That’s the name the church lives by, the rock-bed of truth on which the church stands. And not even hell can undermine that foundation deeply embedded in the eternal truth of redeeming love. Facing the cross, looking at these uncertain disciples who would surely sometimes fail, Jesus said, “On this rock – I will build my church.” He looks at us the same way.

    DSC02993

    Sunday

    Deuteronomy 32.3-4 “I will proclaim the name of the Lord. Oh, praise the greatness of our God! He is the Rock, his works are perfect, and all his ways are just. A faithful God who does no wrong, upright and just is he.”

    Of all the things you would choose to say about God, how many of us would say this? A Rock whose works are perfect. A God who can do no wrong. Faithfulness is the word we use for love and care that is rock solid. Justice is the word we use when wrong is made right, and good overcomes evil, based on the rock-solid righteousness of God. That’s who God is. That’s what God is about in our lives, and in our world.

    Faithful one, so unchanging; ageless one, You're my rock of peace
    Lord of all I depend on You, I call out to You again and again
    You are my rock in times of trouble, you lift me up when I fall down
    All through the storm, your love is the anchor, my hope is in You alone

  • Lent with R S Thomas 4. “The books stood in rows, sentinels at the entrance to truth’s castle.”

    P1000673Perhaps no other experience exposes the illusions and pretensions of the relatively new and fashionable academic discipline of practical theology more effectively, than those called to pastoral care, priestly prayer, and the self-giving of vocational life in the service of those all too human communities we call the church.

    Thus, I think, R. S. Thomas, who might have been a very difficult student if asked to regard his pastoral encounters as qualitative research using the hermeneutic phenomenology a la Habermas! For, despite all his metaphysical hesitations and theological complaints, his disillusions with ecclesial institution and his disappointments with his own fittingness to be a priest, Thomas the priest-poet sometimes nailed it.

    Nailed it! Now that's a contemporary term I dislike on semantic and aesthetic lines, especially in a culture more used to mass produced plastic disposables than hand made steel pitons. But in this case I think even Thomas would approve the image – perhaps because when a Christian uses the verb 'to nail', we unwittingly give ourselves a painful mnemonic nudge to look towards the Cross. And Thomas was, whatever else we might call him, a theologian of the cross and a despiser therefore of all theologians of glory. 

    His prose-poem account of how he spent his earlier days as a priest in remote and hard to find corners of Wales is enlightening for those who wonder about the relevance of theology, the worthwhileness of thinking, the value of study, and the struggle to read, think and pray, that is the soil out of which pastoral care grows to human fruitfulness.

    "A priest's work is not all stewardship, pastoralia. In a rural parish the time for that is the evening, when the farmer nods over the fire. In the morning, the mind fresh, there is the study, that puzzle to the farm mind. The books stood in rows, sentinels at the entrance to truth's castle. He did not take it by storm. He was as often repulsed as he pretended to have gained ground. And yet…" 1

    6a00d8341c6bd853ef02b751987039200c-320wiI'm not sure I know a better apologia for a discipleship of the intellect, the summons to love God with the mind, the determined duty of thinking as a way of obedience to the God who nevertheless will not be discovered by our cleverness, uncovered by our investigations and interrogations, reduced or categorised by our constructed concepts, or held captive by semantic precision.

    "And yet…" Those last two words represent hope pointing beyond ellipsis to the promise that truth is its own value. And the One who calls us to curiosity and contemplation, to reverent thought and humble study, is the One who meets us time and again at the brook Jabbok and wrestles with us until we are again exhausted and only partially enlightened; "And yet…", we go limping towards the dawn.

    "There is the study, that puzzle to the farm mind." This is in no way intended as a slight to the farmer. Rather it is an explanation to the priest, and a warning, not to expect farmers to understand that time in the study is also a time of ploughing, of seed sowing, of fruitfulness and harvest, a time for ideas to germinate, take root and grow.

    6a00d8341c6bd853ef01bb08b8ddc9970d-320wi"The books stood in rows, sentinels at the entrance to truth's castle." Irony? Apologia? I think neither. More an acknowledgement that though working different fields, priest and farmer labour towards a shared goal of sustained human life in the daily round. And there is in this prose poem a hint that the farmer's struggling with the elements of rain and wind, frost and sunshine, and the uncertainties of harvest and the worry about making ends meet, these have their equivalent in the study, and in the ploughing and harrowing of ideas. "And yet…"; yes, there is too, in study as in field, the hope of fruitfulness come autumn.

    1. The Echoes Return Slow, MacMillan, 1988, page 32; and in Collected Later Poems, Bloodaxe, page 27. The Echoes Return Slow is one of my favourite volumes, and the first one I read and re-read 35 years ago now. This was the collection that drew me in.

  • Fun and games trying to photograph a blue tit.

    DSC07675When you go for a cup of tea and through the window you spot this at the bottom of the garden. An inner smile moment.

    Photo taken, from a distance, through the window, now looks more like a painting.Blue tits seldom hang around waiting for the camera.

    Taken a couple of years ago, and popped up on my Facebook memory page. But I think I prefer this slightly blurred photograph to the digitally precise gloss book effect.
     
    John Clare wrote beautifully observed Bird Poems. He also wrote songs for unaccompanied singing, one of them, 'Song's Eternity', has the lines,
    "Mark the tree where the bluecap, / tootle tee, sings a-glee."
     
    Clare often made up his own names for birds, based on what he observed, in this case, the blue cap!
  • A Meditation on a Dreich Day.

    P1000671Is there beauty in bleakness? I ask because the other day I was miserable – cold, sore knee, getting slowly wet from drizzle seeping through my bunnet, and walking along a shoreline which was painted in a multitude of greys.

    On the North East coast of Scotland it isn't only the midwinter that's bleak. The frosty wind makes moan quite frequently in the winter months. Even in early Spring. 

    "Let's go down to Stonehaven and get the cobwebs blown away," he said. The long walk along the esplanade, then the boarded path, round the harbour now fully repaired – it takes long enough to count for a day's steps, more or less. Nearly always refreshing, interesting, and pleasant. This time it was freezing, boring and felt like a self-imposed Lenten penance.

    P1000670At least so it seemed, for a while. I blame the drizzle. A cold wind, you wear warm clothes. Raining, you wear a rain jacket and a fleece and scarf. But rain wasn't forecast – maybe drizzle doesn't count. Drizzle isn't rain, it's more sneaky than rain. Drizzle seeps, insinuates, trickles, permeates the clothes (and the soul), and invades your inner comfort zone! In any case, this was a walk that needed redeeming.

    That's when you need to see a man and his dug! Out of the flood defences at Stonehaven flows an innocuous burn, making its way the the sea. This dog had discovered fresh water! And was running in and out in joy unconfined. One of the bonuses of an extending lead, the dog is free to lunge and splash and bark and chase a tennis ball floating in a burn where it meets the sea. And the man gets to test the strength of his shoulder socket!

    Two photos, 2 minutes apart. Same day, same bleak, same drizzle; then a dog barks and you look. If Francis had had space to write another verse it might have been something like:

    Thou canine bundle of great joy,

    Go fetch your ball, there's a good boy!1

    O praise him! Hallelujah!

    Go splash and chase and bark and run!

    On cloudy days you still have fun,

    O praise him! Hallelujah!

    And so on. I suppose the point of all this is the difference it makes when into our inner low pressure zones, with their drizzle and grey forecast, comes something as simple as a dog excited by a river, a ball and the freedom to go chase. I know. There are some days that are hard to get through. For all kinds of reasons, some of them not even registering in the mind as reasons for our mood. All the more reason to be grateful when determined gloom is interrupted by someone else's equally determined joy – in this case a dog in the distance, celebrating like Louis Armstrong and barking her own version of, "I think to myself, what a wonderful world." 

    1 For those who have a female dog, the alternative verse might read:

    Thou canine friend with joy unfurled

    Go fetch your ball, there's a good girl!

    O praise him! Hallelujah! (etc)

     

  • Lent with R. S. Thomas: “this valley, this village and a church built with stones from the river…”

    What had been blue shadows on a longed for horizon, traced on an inherited background, were shown in time to contain this valley, this village and a church built with stones from the river, where the rectory stood, plangent as a mahogany piano. The stream was a bright tuning-fork in the moonlight. The hay-fields ran with a dark current. The young man was sent unprepared to expose his ignorance of life in a leafless pulpit. 

                                                        *
    I was vicar of large things
    in a small parish. Small-minded
    I will not say, there were depths
    in some of them I shrank back
    from, wells that the word “God”
    fell into and died away,
    and for all I know is still
    falling. Who goes for water
    to such must prepare for a long
    wait. Their eyes looked at me
    and were the remains of flowers
    on an old grave. I was there,
    I felt, to blow on ashes
    that were too long cold. Often,
    when I thought they were about
    to unbar to me, the draught
    out of their empty places
    came whistling so that I wrapped
    myself in the heavier clothing
    of my calling, speaking of light and love
    in the thickening shadows of their kitchens.


    6a00d8341c6bd853ef01bb08b7f452970d-320wiThe Collected Late Poems
    opens with The Echoes Return Slow, a collection of autobiographical poems in which the poet's own life is source and resource for some of his most searing questions and searching observations.Sometimes Thomas writes a line, apparently incidental, an explanatory observation, only the reader hears it as an inner interrogation.

    Always the questioning, spirituality in the interrogative mood, an intellectual grappling with the world that doesn't depend upon, indeed is impatient with, that favoured word of our own times, "closure". Indeed for Thomas the idea of the pilgrimage is defining, the journey is from here to there and from loneliness to companionship, and the important and life-giving disposition is movement towards rather than arrival, longing rather than terminus, opening up to more possibility rather than the lid snap of a complacent mind-flattening closure.

    So in these autobiographical prose paragraphs and line poems, the poet looks to his future as an old man, by seeking clues in his past. These are deeply personal, private and guarded poems. They are suggestive rather than illustrative, oblique in their references but together a series of snapshots which capture more of Thomas and his quest and questions than any 24/7 cctv could ever record. This is, I think, why I find Thomas's poetry so satisfying and unsettling, so true and so real but not with easy truth or reality reduced to the bearable. 

    The poems above, in which he recalls his own early days post-ordination, are a study in pastoral frankness. There's an acknowledged sense of inadequacy and the confessed limits of any human being when faced with grieving parents, bereaved widows, hopeful marriages and all those faces on a Sunday reflecting the diversity and fragility of human hopes, struggles and sorrows.

    The prose poem specifically locates the high calling to be Christ's priest to local context – "this valley, this village and a church built with stones from the river…" A lesson in reality awaits every Christian minister of whatever denomination, in this poem of confessed inadequacy and almost embarrassed premonition of failure.

    Aberdaron_church_-_geograph.org.uk_-_13372That closing line of the prose poem, moves seamlessly but unsparingly into the anticipated failures, disappointments and disillusions of ministry in a hard place.

    "The young man was sent unprepared to expose his ignorance of life in a leafless pulpit."

    The ignorance exposed is not about unfulfilled intellectual capacity. The hill folk amongst whom he served as priest, what did he know of them? How could he even learn how to get to know them? What did all his theology offer to people for whom the word "God" was, in the words of another theologian, "like the plunge of lead into fathomless waters."

    And just when he thought he had communicated something of what he was about as priest, just when he thought he was being invited in, "the draught out of their empty places", chilled his core so that he took refuge in "the heavier clothing of my calling." But as he spoke of light and love, the message that validated gis calling, he did so into the "thickening shadows of their kitchens." 

    There is a profound sadness in this poem, born out of a calling being tested by loneliness. His inability to understand and be understood, the difficulties in communication between the educated priest and a largely uneducated but shrewd and knowing community, add to the isolation. This is not so much personal rejection as a near inevitable communication failure.

    The ignorance that is exposed is his inherent inability to know first hand what these people's lives were like. He doesn't know how these 'peasant' folk could ever be helped to access his articulations of his faith, or he ever understand that their faith was found, not in words and ideas, sermons and liturgies, but in the hardness of their living, the daily grinding experience of getting through each day. How to survive, and finding God in the realities of that struggle was more crucial than their ability or willingness to grasp whatever it was the priest was on about. Light and love, at least as words and promises, are little consolation in the dark winter nights of the soul.

    But these are late poems. In Thomas's first published collection, The Stones of the Field (1946), the poet theologian is looking closely at the peasant, to learn, to understand, and to acknowledge that in the trudge and drudge of working the land, there is a faithfulness, a faith, a finding of meaning for such a life, so that in the doing of it God may be found.

    Consider this man in the field beneath

    Gaitered with mud, lost in his own breath,

    Without joy, without sorrow,

    Without children, without wife,

    Stumbling insensitively from furrow to furrow.

    A vague somnambulist; but hold your tears,

    For his name also is written in the Book of Life.2

    ………………………………

    1. From The Echoes Return Slow, also found in in R. S. Thomas Later Collected Poems. Bloodaxe, 1988-2000, page 23
    2. 'Affinity', in R. S. Thomas Collected Poems, 1945-1990, J M Dent, 1993, page 8.
     
  • “Even the sparrow….”

    I wrote this, and too the photo, exactly a year ago.
     
    SparrowsWhat used to be a small house, the interior now exposed, the red brick crumbling, the ground colonised by buddleia, the wooden lintel above the door bleached, cracked, but still holding. Who used to live here? How long ago? What was their story. The ruin sits beside a large busy roundabout, in part of the city run down by neglect, unattractive to investors, space that's just too much hassle to reclaim, repair and restore.
     
    Except above the lintel, to the left of the surviving granite facia, there is a small square hole. That's where two sparrows are building their nest. I watched them come and go. Aye, in a broken world, even the sparrow finds a home. (Psalm 84.3)
     
    And at that moment, something inside nudged me towards hope. You know those moments when you breathe deeply, look at the blue sky, and decide yet again not to give in to despair? And like that other poem by the Psalmist extraordinaire, we hear that still small voice, the birth of defiance which is the backbone of trust, "Why are you cast down and sick to your heart's core? Hope in God, for I shall yet praise him!"
     
    Today I hope in God for the return of peace and safety for the people of Ukraine. May those who have to flee find a home and a welcome in the human family where borders are not walls, but lines of safety and help.
  • Tapestry Tales 3 : A Stained Glass Window and “the delight of unexpected beauty.”

    Cezanne harvester roger frySome time in the early 1990's I was given a book about stained glass, an art form that has always intrigued. The friend who gave me the book knew I had an interest in both stained glass and tapestry.That's how yet another tapestry was conceived.

    The artist Roger Fry (a member of the Bloomsbury Group) designed and created a stained glass roundel in 1914, on a theme after a painting by Cezanne. I found a print of it in my book, yet another visuaI experience in which spirituality, theology and image coalesced. The roundel has rich connotations of ploughed fields, seeds and plants growing towards harvest, perhaps a channelled river, two pillars of light suggestive of ripening grain, and the varied light of a sky mirroring the cycle of the seasons and the weather.

    Drawn on to the canvas, and with the book photo for guidance I tried to make the copy as  exact as possible given that the medium was square canvas and the subject was a roundel! By now I was becoming much more aware of the relation between art and theology, and especially how colour, image and shape could provide a visual exegesis of those inner truths we struggle to articulate in words.

    As a preacher and theologian, whose first degree is in moral philosophy, I had perhaps become too comfortable with abstract thought, too focused on intellectual constructs. Working with threads and immersing in colour was becoming a new way of moving into contemplative mode. I remember a comment from a very good friend, John, who trained as a ship's carpenter, one of the finest woodworkers I've known. "I widnae hae the patience for that – nor the eyesight!" I knew what he meant, but I was loving it. At no stage have I ever felt the need to hurry. Weeks can go past with little stitching done.

    IMG_2410When I pick up the tapestry frame it becomes fairly obvious if I'm stressed. It's to do with the tension in the thread, the evenness of the stitching, the pull of needle and thread as itself an exercise in self-restraint, and therefore a willingness to let the materials and tools do their work on the canvas, and on the mind and spirit. It may be that the art of prayer is caught up into those activities in which we create, invest time, develop skills and become creatures ourselves made in the image of the Creator.

    Back to the Cezanne inspired roundel. Roger Fry's Harvest roundel was created just as War broke out across Europe in 1914. Context matters when interpreting art, I think we all recognise that. This window celebrates the seasons of life, growth, fruitfulness, the beauty of earth, the fertility of soil, the life-giving sunlight that enables photo-synthesis. One critic described Fry's work: "His work was considered to give pleasure, communicating the delight of unexpected beauty and which tempers the spectator's sense to a keener consciousness of its presence."

    Against the backdrop of militarism, the advent of war, a future in which millions of young lives were sacrificed on the say-so of Europe's political and military elites,this beautiful scene of cultivated human life and promised harvest is art at its most defiant, subversive and prophetic. The artist could not have imagined the immense tragedy about to engulf a generation of young Europeans. His window is a window into hopefulness, created as the world looked through a different window with the light diminishing rapidly towards darkness. 

    Once again, the tapestry has faded in the 30 years since it was made. But it remains a favourite, mainly because of the contextual story it tells, of defiant hope in the face of impending tragedy. And add to that the implied contrast between human work on the land to bear fruitful harvest, and human industry creating machines for the explicit purposes of death. 

  • This Week’s Thought for the Day: Proverbs and the Everyday Spirituality of Living Well

    Monday

    Proverbs 17.16 & 18.2 “A man of understanding sets his face towards wisdom, but the eyes of a fool are on the ends of the earth. A fool takes no pleasure in understanding, but only in expressing an opinion.”

    I know. Facebook, Instagram, smart-phones and keyboards didn’t exist when these words were written. But the deficit of wisdom in high places remains. Everyone has an opinion, but understanding? Not so much. Wisdom is knowing how to live well, and the Book of Proverbs gathers in one place the wisdom of learning from experience, not making the same mistake twice, and giving God his place.

    Tuesday

    Proverbs 3.5-6 “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him and he will direct your paths.”

    This is not as daft as it sounds. Don’t rely on your own understanding doesn’t mean stop thinking for yourself. It means think rightly, wisely, with God on the horizon. To acknowledge God is about obedience; to use a well-used phrase, wisdom is about “doing the right thing”. Proverbs is full of warnings about lies, indifference to the poor, stabbing in the back, being a bad neighbour. We acknowledge and trust God when we live in ways that don’t embarrass God!

    Cat

    Wednesday

    Proverbs 19.17 & 22.9 “He who is kind to the poor lends to the Lord and he will repay him for his deed. He who has a bountiful eye will be blessed, for he shares his bread with the poor.”

    “Lord grant me a bountiful eye.” Not sure I’ve ever heard that particular prayer! Compassion leads to kindness and generosity is kindness in practice. A bountiful eye is a way of seeing others that makes us act for their good. If you do that something happens you’d never believe, but it’s true – “He who is kind to the poor lends to the Lord.” Imagine that! Out of our giving to others, God is in our debt – but God is no one’s debtor, and anything we could ever give to God, is nothing compared to all that God has already given to us.

    Thursday

    Proverbs 25.21-22 “If your enemy is hungry, give him bread to eat; and if he is thirsty give him water to drink; for you will heap coals of fire on his head, and the Lord will reward you.”

    Hatred based on grievances eventually leads to violence – verbal, psychological, physical. One of the ways to defuse enmity is to act kindly to those who are hostile. Coals of fire refer to the conscience; we talk about burning with shame. To return good for evil is to give the enemy a chance, and to give peace a chance. The reward will be turning an enemy into a friend, and if not, knowing God’s yes to our actions.

    Friday

    Proverbs 22.24-25 “Make no friendship with a man given to anger, nor go with a wrathful man, lest you learn his ways and entangle yourself in a snare.”

    Anger isn’t always wrong. Sometimes it is anger at injustice that properly channelled, creates the energy, imagination and determination to work for change. But there’s a lot of anger about; not righteous anger, but self-righteous anger. I’m right. You’re wrong. I’m offended. You’re to blame. My life isn’t working. It’s anybody’s fault but mine. Social media has been described as an anger factory. So, am I, are you, in danger of being a man or woman given to anger, habitually negative, eager to retaliate in words whether spoken or typed? If so, stop it. Now.  

    P1000474Saturday

    Proverbs 10.19 “When words are many, transgression is not lacking, but he who restrains his lips is prudent.”

    Have you ever counted how many words you speak in a day? Supposing there was a word counter app, same as for steps? These proverbs were first written for people in public life – so today, in the office, school, coffee shops, church, supermarket, pubs. Small talk is important and often innocent. When it veers into gossip, score-settling, talking that inflicts damage on others, then the fewer words the better. As Jesus said, we will answer for every word spoken on the day of judgement – I wonder how many of us actually believe that? Really (Check out Matthew 12.36)

    Sunday

    Proverbs 3.3 “Let not loyalty and faithfulness forsake you; bind them about your neck. Write them on the tablet of your heart.”

    Two words that sum up the best in human relationships – loyalty and faithfulness. Oh, I know, we want to know where love comes in. But love cannot survive without loyalty and faithfulness, and at the heart of both these words is trust. To keep our promises, to be there for someone no matter what, to persist in kindness, to not give up on someone – that’s to have their name, alongside those words loyalty and faithfulness, written on the heart. Trust works both ways, and when it does, we stay faithful and loyal. Love is then what we feel, what we think, and how we behave.