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  • Some of What I’ve Been Reading During Lock Down.

    We've all had to find ways of getting through days and weeks of lock down, and staying at home more than we ever have before. Once the garden is tidier than tidy, the grass is cut almost to manicured standard, the car is washed to an unfamiliar gleam, the study spring cleaned and each book affectionately dusted, the entire house hoovered – serially, the daily walk completed (recently walks, plural), the essential shopping procured through stealthy raids when most folk are doing other things, – once all that's done, what's to do?

    That's where books have been my lifeline – mental, emotional, intellectual, imaginative lifelines to that necessary balance between escapism and realism. When I review what I've read in three months I'm intrigued that I've largely stayed away from novels; for some reason fiction hasn't worked. That surprises me because I've read novels throughout my life, and often as a way of dealing with stress by either escapism (think Lee Child, John Grisham), self-reflection through narrative (think Salley Vickers,Gail Godwin, Marilynne Robinson), or whodunnit detectives, (Val McDermid, Jacqueline Winspear – these two are very different in levels of dark).

    IMG_2850I've read poetry, these past weeks, mostly by those I already know; George Herbert, R S Thomas, Mary Oliver, Denise Levertov and browsing in a serendipitous way in a few anthologies. I've read biography, the real life experience of people seeming more rooted in a world where, for a while now, so much seems unreal. The word surreal has become an overused descriptor for anything slightly unusual – our experience of the pandemic has been more than slightly unusual; not even surreal describes the vortex of confusion, fear, anxiety and the recent loss of confidence in the way the world is experienced as low grade dread. Biography has a way of carrying us inwardly into a life other than our own, a time different from now, and a place where pandemic is a word for another time and place. 

    The photo shows four of the books I've spent time reading, other than poetry and biography. I decided to catch up on reading a number of recent books in New Testament Studies. The State of New Testament Studies is a refresher course on recent development over the past 20 or so years, in the many and various strands of New Testament scholarship. There isn't an essay in this book, and there are 23 of them, that doesn't repay the reader's time; taken together they provide a map of the current landscape with enough detail to show the important routes ahead and how we got to where we are. 

    Download (1)Constructing Paul vol 1 by Luke Timothy Johnson is readable scholarship, authoritative and persuasive, independent in its conclusions, and is a constructive account of Paul's life, social context, cultural environment, and relations with the churches with which he corresponded. Johnson does two things that make this book an important contribution. First, he uses all the canonical letters attributed to Paul in the New Testament. His defence of this approach is based on his deconstruction of the critical consensus that there are only seven "undisputed letters". Johnson insists that using the thirteen letters provides a much more rounded picture of what he calls the canonical Paul. I have always been hesitant about the confidence with which Pauline authorship of certain letters has been dismissed; I found Johnson's reasoned rebuttal persuasive in itself, and more so when the results are then set out in a way that allows for the complexities and ambiguities of Paul's personality and compound identities as Jew, Greco Roman, apostle and controversialist.

    In addition to using the entire canonical corpus of Paul's letters, Johnson gives decisive weight and substance to the New Testament accounts of Paul's personal experience of Christ. Johnson is known for considering religious experience an essential body of evidence in constructing a credible account of Paul's life, the lives of the earliest Christian communities, and indeed for understanding the faith and practices of contemporary Christians. Paul's encounter with Christ, his experience of life in the Spirit, and the reconfiguration of his worldview, created for Paul a radically new understanding of God's purpose for Israel, the Gentiles and the new mission of the communities formed by faith in Christ. But that radical newness was not seen by him  as a final discontinuity, but a fulfilling of God's purposes through Messiah Jesus. While Johnson has long insisted that the religious experience of believers is relevant data in trying to understand the historical, social, cultural and ecclesial context of those early Christian communities, it is in this book that he pursues that line of investigation in constructing Paul. The result is a tour de force, readable, persuasive, and for me, convincing in its portrait of Paul.

    The biography of Rendel Harris is a huge book just short of 700 pages. I'm still immersed in it. A full review of it will appear in a Quaker Journal later this year. But this Quaker biblical scholar is a deeply fascinating subject. His travels in Europe, Africa and the Middle East, on the hunt for ancient manuscripts read like the best travel books, often illuminated by his wife's journals. He and his wife were outspoken in their protests and political representation on behalf of the Armenian people many of whom were massacred and their communities destroyed under the order of the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire. Harris worked as a scholar in America, Cambridge, and especially in Birmingham as the first Principal of Woodbrooke, establishing the primary Quaker Research Institution in the world. His textual studies, contributions to ecumenical co-operation, curatoriship of important manuscript collections and so much more, make this late Victorian Quaker one of the most attractive and at times eccentric figures in English nonconformity. 

    George-hunsingerGeorge Hunsinger is a leading Princeton theologian, a world class authority on Karl Barth, and the founder of The National Religious Campaign Against Torture. His commentary on Philippians published only last month reflects much of that depth and range of theological understanding, his continuing passion for social justice, and careful unfolding of Paul's letter from prison to the Philippian believers. I'm almost finished this one.

    Hunsinger is a refreshing and generous commentator, at ease with exegeting the text and then exploring how such ancient guidance to an upset house church in Philippi, can become contemporary and urgent in our own faith struggles of the 21st Century. There are some verses where Hunsinger decides to dig down deeply to discover the theological foundations on which Paul is building. His take on what Paul means in Philippians 3.9 "not having a righteousness of my own…" is simply superb. Those few pages are an education in how to balance historical critical exegesis with what Hunsinger calls an ecclesial hermeneutic.

    There is similar stimulus in his treatment of the Christ Hymn Phil. 2.5-11. So much has been written on this passage; it would be easy to either repeat what others have said, but more briefly; or try to find something novel to say. Hunsinger does neither. The exegesis is woven through his theological reflection on Christology, the Trinitarian relations of the Godhead, and how Phil 2 relates to the Nicea-Chalcedonian definitions. This has been a deeply satisfying study of one of Paul's letters, one I already knew well – I now feel I know it better.

    There's something reassuring about intellectual engagement with familiar subjects and disciplines. A good therapist might deconstruct what is actually going on here, and that's OK. It has worked for me, and there are the additional longer lasting benefits; the uncomplicated joy of reading, the contentment of a mind supplementing its store, delight in new discovery and some hard to hide smugness when you are able to say, "Oh, I knew that."   

          

       

  • R. S. Thomas and the Theology of God’s Creative Patience.

    The View from the Window, R. S. Thomas

    Like a painting it is set before one,
    But less brittle, ageless; these colours
    Are renewed daily with variations
    Of light and distance that no painter
    Achieves or suggests.  Then there is movement,
    Change, as slowly the cloud bruises
    Are healed by sunlight, or snow caps
    A black mood; but gold at evening
    To cheer the heart.  All through history
    The great brush has not rested,
    Nor the paint dried; yet what eye,
    Looking coolly, or, as we now,
    through the tears' lenses, ever saw
    This work and it was not finished?

    R S Thomas, Collected Poems, 1945-1990, (London: Dent, 1993, page 81)

    IMG_2609God the artist is ceaselessly at work, and the poet is reflecting on his worldview through the limited standpoint of a familiar window. Every time the poet looks the scene has changed, the colours renewed, and the work displaying a subtlety and technique beyond the reach of any human artist. There is, in this poem, a deeply reverential acknowledgement of the cost and unending discipline of the artist persevering in continued work on the same canvas. This tireless artist  is painting not only the fluid, elusive landscape visible as topography under the sky, but with the same deft knowing of the subject, he is painting the changing movements of the inner landscape of the viewer / reader. "Cloud bruises/are healed by sunlight", "white snow" contrasts with a "black mood", and "sunset gold" brings cheer to a heart at times more aware of the bruise than the sunlight.

    Creation as continuous, the world as an unfinished masterpiece, the constant expenditure of the Creator's energy and emotional investment, enables Thomas to convey the soul of this artist poured out on his work: "All through history / The great brush has not rested, / Nor the paint dried…". It isn't often that Thomas's readers are given such a clear and genuine articulation of the poet's sympathy for the work and works of God. But in this poem the juxtaposition of a constantly moving landscape and a continuously working painter evokes in the reader a sense of a work in progress, and the artist's commitment to bringing it to completion.   

    IMG_2569What I find intriguing in all this is the theological reticence of Thomas in dealing with creation and Creator. There is no creation by fiat, none of the "God spoke and it was so". The refrain of Genesis that God spoke, it was so, and it was good, is absent. Instead there is the presumed presence of the painter, working away every day, renewing colours, adjusting light and shadow.

    And as the painter works, the viewer looking through the window, watches, and then there is a moment of vision, a fusion of outward scenery and inner feeling, as the painter's deft touches, over the years of watching, build up the colours of light and shadow, on landscape and soul. 

    "All through history
    The great brush has not rested,
    Nor the paint dried…

    The Creator Artist is at work, and the view through the window is of a work in process, with as yet no deadline for completion. The artist is fully engaged, continuously working away at it, "all through history", bringing towards completion a vision that is dynamic not static, a work of artistic self expenditure that is, quite literally, his life's work.

    This poem has made me wonder, along with other aspects of Thomas's theological poetics, whether he read the Process philosophical theologians of the 1960's and 70's (e.g. Whitehead and Hartshorne). Their emphases on God's involvement in the fate of the world, God as one who interpenetrates and animates all that exists (panentheism), the world as held within God creative purposes, and God as the lure of Divine Love, preferring persuasion to coercion, acting in the vulnerability of love rather than inscrutable sovereign power, shaping all that is towards future consummation and fulfilment.

    DSC04045Such a God risks the act of creating creatures with freedom, placing them in a world that is contingent and made for such creaturely freedom, creativity and potential, a world and universe where things can and do go badly wrong. Much of the central concerns of Process theism is hinted at in the image of the artist persisting towards perfection with no guaranteed outcome, such as is woven through 'The View from the Window.' 

    Thomas finishes with a question that opens up the entire range of human emotion, from cool detachment to tearful wonder. To human eyes the work is finished; yet look again and the artist is still at work, building up the texture, adjusting tone and colour, recalling the words of Jesus about the unrelenting demands of God's work: "As long as it is day, we must do the works of him who sent me." (John 9.4)

    So the artist works ceaselessly and patiently. God works, and waits, with all eternity to work in. "The activity of creating includes the passivity of waiting….of waiting upon one's workmanship to see what emerges from it." (W H Vanstone, Love's Endeavour, Love's Expense, (London, DLT,1977, p.33.) The God portrayed here is solicitous, patient, persistent, invested in the outcome, restlessly intentional in actualising potential by giving fullest expression to his vision. 

    It is a hallmark of Thomas's spirituality that the pressing questions of human existence, our varied and oscillating experiences of faith, and our incessant longing for beauty, truth and goodness, set up a force field of tensions that an earlier, simpler age might have called hunger for God.

    "The tears' lenses" is a phrase of studied ambiguity – like the changing landscape of sunlight and shadow, now bright then dark, Looking at the view from the window, through our tears they refract as a rainbow spectrum, tears of sorrow or joy, wonder or regret, or ultimately trustful surrender. This is R S Thomas the priest poet at his most poignant.

    "These colours are renewed daily". In writing those words, I wonder if Thomas was alluding to the one sunlit verse in the bruised clouds that brood over the Book of Lamentations 3.22-23:

    "Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
        for his compassions never fail.
     They are new every morning;
        great is your faithfulness." 

  • Singing our Prayer and Praying our Songs 2. God of Grace and God of Glory.

    IMG_2808Sometimes our hunger for innovation, over-concern with relevance, insistence that hymns reflect personal experience rather than objective affirmation of faith in God, all combine to dull our awareness of that world out there, and the realities that have to be encountered and navigated every day.

    Fosdick’s hymn is an unflinching confession of the mess of things, its recurring prayer to be granted wisdom and courage for living this hour, these days, at this time.

    Praying this hymn brings before the God of grace, the state of our world, our country, and confesses the troubled heart and mind of contemporary culture.

     

    1 God of grace and God of glory,
    on thy people pour thy power;
    crown thine ancient church's story,
    bring its bud to glorious flower.
    Grant us wisdom, grant us courage
    for the facing of this hour.

    2 Lo! the hosts of evil round us
    scorn thy Christ, assail his ways!
    From the fears that long have bound us
    free our hearts to faith and praise.
    Grant us wisdom, grant us courage
    for the living of these days.

    3 Cure thy children's warring madness;
    bend our pride to your control;
    shame our wanton, selfish gladness,
    rich in things and poor in soul.
    Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,
    lest we miss your kingdom's goal.

    4 Save us from weak resignation
    to the evils we deplore;
    let the gift of thy salvation
    be our glory evermore.
    Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,
    serving you whom we adore.

  • Singing our Prayers and Praying our Songs. 1. Dear Lord and Father of Mankind.

    IMG_1549

     

     

    Those first two lines are breathed out like a long sigh of longing, the first verse a prayer for a different way of seeing the world and being in the world.

    In a world of earthquake, wind and fire, both natural and contrived by foolish human ways, this is a prayer for simple trust, love interpreted, noiseless blessing, and ordered lives confessing the beauty of peace.

    Replacing suspicion with trust, hate with love, loud cursing with noiseless blessing, and life ordered, reconfigured to peace; if you sing this hymn, that's what you're asking for, longing for, wanting for our world.

     

     

    Dear Lord and Father of mankind,
    Forgive our foolish ways!
    Reclothe us in our rightful mind,
    In purer lives Thy service find,
    In deeper reverence, praise.

    In simple trust like theirs who heard
    Beside the Syrian sea
    The gracious calling of the Lord,
    Let us, like them, without a word
    Rise up and follow Thee.

    O Sabbath rest by Galilee!
    O calm of hills above,
    Where Jesus knelt to share with Thee
    The silence of eternity
    Interpreted by love!

    With that deep hush subduing all
    Our words and works that drown
    The tender whisper of Thy call,
    As noiseless let Thy blessing fall
    As fell Thy manna down.

    Drop Thy still dews of quietness,
    Till all our strivings cease;
    Take from our souls the strain and stress,
    And let our ordered lives confess
    The beauty of Thy peace.

    Breathe through the heats of our desire
    Thy coolness and Thy balm;
    Let sense be dumb, let flesh retire;
    Speak through the earthquake, wind, and fire,
    O still, small voice of calm.

  • Unless you become as children – R S Thomas and the Impaired Vision of Adults

    Children's Song

    We live in our own world,
    A world that is too small
    For you to stoop and enter
    Even on hands and knees,
    The adult subterfuge.

    And though you probe and pry
    With analytic eye,
    And eavesdrop all our talk
    With an amused look,
    You cannot find the centre
    Where we dance, where we play,
    Where life is still asleep
    Under the closed flower,
    Under the smooth shell
    Of eggs in the cupped nest
    That mock the faded blue
    Of your remoter heaven.

    R S Thomas, (Collected Poems, 1945-1990, page 56.)

    Baby-reading[1]In around 80 words Thomas deconstructs adulthood as a different planet, a different discourse, a lost capacity for imaginative immediacy, a diminshed sense of life's vivid colours and wondering mindset. When Jesus said unless you become as children you cannot see the Kingdom of God, perhaps amongst other things he meant that unless you retain the power to see, somehow or other prevent an occlusion of vision, resist the seductive power of the analytic in order to see the reality of what just is, unless you can do that, you will never see the miracle of mustard seed, the marvel of yeast, the outrageous humanity of the Samaritan para-medic.

    No wonder Jesus told the adult disciples whose description and behaviour match some of the above paragraph, to "let the children come and don't chase them away – they are the true heirs of the Kingdom". And likewise little wonder he took a child and placed her in the midst of them and delivered the first children's address – to a group of obtuse adults, far too serious for their own good, and addicted to conclusions too quickly jumped to!

    And R S Thomas was too good a priest not to know that though hands and knees are an adult trick to make children think we are just like them, the children aren't fooled. Neither is God. Amongst the things we put away when we grow up is that innocent take it for grantedness, that looks on the world and wonders, and never even realises that wonder is a gift you use or lose.

    Oh Lord of mystery and miracle,

    redeem our so grown up view of the world,

    and renew our old minds to think new thoughts.

    Help us

       to notice the extraordinary ordinariess of our lives,

          to pay attention to the wonder of things,

             to recover the fun and freedom of play,

                and to take what is given us for granted,

                   but also with gratitude.

    Holy Spirit

       renew our imagination,

          refresh our emotions,

             reset our ambitions,

                revive our hopes,

                   restore our energy,

                      release our laughter,

                         recreate our world,

                            resurrect our lives,

                               in the power of the Risen Lord, 

                                                                              Amen. ( J Gordon)

     

  • Photographs for a Time of Pandemic 8 “I think to myself, what a wonderful world…”

    DSC07706During lock down I took photographs of paths. The ones I like are the well worn ones, the ground shaped and the landscape etched by thousands of footsteps over who knows how many years. With so many people walking for their hour's exercise it becomes clear that they discover short cuts, and so new paths are made.

    I read somewhere that an architect designing new housing developments suggested putting grass down and only designing one or two obvious paths. After six months it becomes obvious the walking routes people use to the shops, the bus stop and navigating between streets. The paths were then laid where people were already used to walking. Something like that happened on some of the common ground where we live – people's walking had created new paths.

    Two of the most familiar texts in the Bible are about paths. "He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake." Sung at weddings and funerals, in Psalm 23 there are deep resonant images of life as a journey and the importance of taking the right path. "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and do not lean on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him and he will make your paths straight." The book of Proverbs is about wisdom, good choices, moral integrity, ethical relationships, honesty with money, care and truthfulness in speech – these are the paths of life, that lead to life. This verse distils all that into one maxim, "Trust in the Lord…he will direct your paths." (Prov. 3.6 KJV)

    IMG_2563So I like paths, I'm comfortable and content walking a known way; known at least by those who have gone before me, countless times. But one of the realities of lock down and living with the ambiguities and disruption of a pandemic is that many of the known paths seem to have disappeared; there is disorientation, a sense of displacement, a strangely unsettling loss of confidence that we know where we are, and where we are going.

    Sheila and I walk a lot, have done all our time together. Often as she walks ahead, I'm aware of the journey we share, the companionship of a lifetime, the sense of moving forward together. The sunlit path, but with shadows and light, and life experiences that are likewise variable, changeable, unpredictable and in the end contingent, these are the given material out of which we make of life what we can. But we do so in concert, in step, on the same path which, though at times has been harder than we could know, is the path we have chosen to walk as both intentional journey and shared adventure.  

    An old hymn has remained a constant source of inner longing and spiritual sustenance ever since I first sang it as a new Christian convert, still trying to work out what in heaven's name had happened to me! I chose it as my ordination hymn, and at each induction service since.

    Christ of the upward way, my Guide divine,
    Where Thou hast set Thy feet, may I place mine;
    And move and march wherever Thou hast trod,
    Keeping face forward up the hill of God.

    DSC07715When I try to define what it means to be a Christian, like the Anabaptist tradition, I use the image of "following faithfully after Christ." Following with faith in Christ, following the faithful Christ, knowing Christ goes ahead of me, on the path I'm called to walk, faithfully. Those first followers of Jesus were called followers of the Way, people who walked a recognised path, the way of the cross. 

    During these past weeks of pandemic lock down there has been time to think. Reviewing the photographs I've taken has been an exercise in self-examination. Not the guilt hunting type, nor the introspective worrying about how I feel and why, nor that inner audit to check if I measure up to my own self-expectations.

    A gentler questioning of why certain things interest me enough to want to stop and take a photograph in the first place; a more reflective and non-judgemental exploration of such a world as this, its beauty and significance, its capacity to perplex and fascinate, its evocation of wonder and endless possibility; a deliberate act of pausing, to look and to see, to be present to and to pay attention, to move from such slowed-down taking an interest to the gradual recognition that all of this that we call our lives, takes place in the presence of the God who is before us and behind us. The dynamic movement of the journey, this life of mine that is inextricably linked in love to another, and beyond her to countless others, these moments of encounter and attentive expectation before a flower, a path, a clouded sky, a blue tit, golden gorse, far horizons, these are also moments of praise and prayer, of contentment and longing, of self-discovery and self-forgetting.

    To recall the interrogative technique of the wonderful David Frost; It is, is it not, a wonderful world.    

      

  • A call to reflection, repentance, reconciliation, and renewal.

    BLMThe death of George Floyd shocked the world. We all have our views, opinions, and responses. I have been troubled and saddened by the polarisation of adopted positions, the special pleading from various sides of what is now a dangerous divide.

    What to say, if anything? Silence allows time to think, right enough. But moral imperatives are rarely fulfilled by silence. A time comes to speak. I trust that I speak humbly, hesitantly, and hopefully.

    Regular readers here will know this is a place where I explore what it means to follow Christ faithfully in out times and places. My starting point is how to live well as a Christian in a beautiful, broken, complex and God-loved world. That is expressed in the words of Thomas More, in Bolton's 'A Man for all Seasons', words from which this blog took its name,

    "God made the angels to show His splendour – as He made animals for innocence and plants for their simplicity. But men and women He made to serve Him wittily, in the tangle of their minds."

    I take "living wittily" to mean faithfully, intelligently, self-critically, with integrity, hopefully, or to use another of my favourite phrases, "to look humanely forth on human life."

    What I am offering in this post is three things. A set of suppositions, some "what ifs" that imagine changes in mindset on all sides – by changes of mindset I mean the theological and spiritual reality of repentance. Secondly a text out of context, but capable of standing alone as a call to repentance and change. Thirdly a prayer which acknowledges the intransigence and complexity of racism as a vast multiplex problem, and seeks to be specific in confession and trusting in its prayer for change.

    For my part, I see racism as a problem that starts in the human heart, but it never just stops there. It is then inevitably released as a toxin into social structures, causing a festering wound in institutions and systems, and becoming a pervasive offence to the purposes of God for human flourishing in justice, mercy and humility before God. Theologically, racism is sin, and sin is personal, social, structural and systemic. 

    All of this set me thinking of what might be possible

    if in acknowledging the raw grief caused by racists and racism;

    if in witnessing seemingly endless suffering inflicted by racists and racism;

    if in hearing voices of righteous anger and protest against racists and racism;

    if being alert to the dangers of creeping despair at the seeming intransigence of the racist mindset;

    if refusing to give credence to voices of denial that say there is no racism where it is clearly to be seen;

    what then might be possible, if our minds were finally and fundamentally changed about racism, and our own part in it?

    Supposing all that.        

    Supposing, instead of pontificating and daring to instruct others about what racism is, we shut up and for once listen to the voices of those whose experience contradicts our certainties about how right we are and how truthfully we see the world?

    Racism is complex, deep, destructive and real.

     

    Supposing we took off the earphones that pump into our minds only the playlist we have chosen, playing only the music we like, reflecting only the view of the world we agree with, drowning out other voices we do not want to hear, or think we do not need to hear?

    Racism thrives on excluding the noise of other people's pain.

     

    Supposing instead of defending our own certainties with our prejudiced arguments, we made enough time and space for truth to be spoken that may question those certainties and prejudices?

    Racism is deep untruth about the worth and rights of others.

     

    Supposing instead of shooting off about what we think, and telling others where they are wrong we first, possibly breaking the habit of a lifetime, consider we may ourselves be wrong, and in desperate moral need to stand corrected?

    Racism is a form of moral, because wilful blindness.

     

    Supposing we were more intellectually humble, more righteous in our thinking, more merciful in our judgements, more careful with our words, more reticent about our opinions, and more open to that revision of thought which is repentance, a willingness to be taught to think and act differently?

    Racism is an offence against Who God is and what God requires of us.

     

    Supposing then, we repent of our own complicity in the institutional systems, national histories, ingrained attitudes, intentional social structures, embedded language, and personal involvement in the continuation of cultures which enable and sustain the complex wiring of the racist mindset?

    Racism can be at one and the same time, personal, social, institutional, cultural, structural and systemic.

     

    Supposing then, we were to begin to show proper humility of heart, an enacted righteousness in how we live, seeking embodied justice in our systems, promoting mercy by our words and actions, creating a culture of genuine justice for all people, in obedience to God in whose image every human being is created?

    Supposing? 

    Supposing this text, and that huge conditional starting, and startling "If"? 

    "If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land." (2 Chronicles 7.14)

    The prayer below is from Chris Hall, President of Renovare, a Christian renewal group founded by the Quaker, Richard Foster. The context of the prayer is the United States; its relevance reaches beyond national boundaries to the human family wherever we happen to live. 

    Lord, have mercy.”

    • We have refused to lis­ten atten­tive­ly to our black and brown broth­ers’ and sis­ters’ cry for jus­tice. Lord, have mercy.
    • We have been deaf to the prophet’s call: ​And he looked for jus­tice, but saw blood­shed; for right­eous­ness, but heard cries of dis­tress.” (Isa­iah 5:7b). Lord, have mer­cy.
    • We have been intel­lec­tu­al­ly lazy and moral­ly obtuse.  Our minds and hearts lis­ten only to voic­es that rein­force opin­ions we already hold. Lord, have mercy.
    • We have been blind to our com­pla­cen­cy and com­plic­i­ty. Lord, have mercy.
    • We have car­i­ca­tured or ignored books, poems, art, and films that chal­lenge our prej­u­dice and rebuke our igno­rance. Lord, have mercy.
    • We have been com­plic­it in a cul­ture that delights in false­hood and dis­re­gards the truth. Lord, have mercy.
    • We have expect­ed applause for our fee­ble thoughts and tot­ter­ing steps toward your pre­cious image bear­ers who dai­ly expe­ri­ence the hatred and vio­lence of racism. Lord, have mercy.
    • We have been self-absorbed and self-deceived. Lord, have mercy.
    • We have pre­ferred teach­ing rather than being taught. Lord, have mercy.
    • We have manip­u­lat­ed and exploit­ed. Lord, have mercy.
    • We have feared los­ing our ​rights,” while with­hold­ing rights from the gen­uine­ly oppressed and des­per­ate. Lord, have mercy.
    • We have lacked steady com­pas­sion and stur­dy courage. Our response to the evil of racism has been short-lived and shal­low. Lord, have mercy.
    • We have loved the big deal and shunned hid­den ser­vice. Lord, have mer­cy.
    • We have hat­ed our ene­mies and loved those who love us. Lord, have mer­cy.
    • We have equat­ed the Unit­ed States of Amer­i­ca with the king­dom of God. Lord, have mercy.
    • We have embraced pow­er and ignored the demands of love. Lord, have mercy.
    • We have delight­ed in cul­tur­al con­flict and dis­dained the pur­suit of peace and  under­stand­ing. Lord, have mercy.
    • We have walled out the alien and the for­eign­er. Lord, have mercy.
    • We have enact­ed unjust and oppres­sive laws. Lord, have mercy.
    • We have incar­cer­at­ed the poor and released the rich and pow­er­ful. Lord, have mercy.
    • We have glad­ly trav­elled the wide and easy road that leads to destruc­tion and avoid­ed the nar­row road that leads to life. Lord, have mercy.

    Oh, Lord, we have sinned,
    against you and against our neigh­bor,
    in the things we have done, and the things we have left undone.
    We acknowl­edge our igno­rance and will­ful neglect. 

    For­give us. Cleanse us. Renew us.
    Reset our moral com­pass.
    Fill the wind of our sails with the breath of your Spir­it.
    Pro­pel us to the places and peo­ple who can teach us to love in new and unex­pect­ed ways. 

    We plead for deep­er courage and com­pas­sion.
    We ask for a qui­et, teach­able spirit. 

    Give us love and humil­i­ty to erase the bound­ary lines we drew in fear.
    Expand our vision to life and flour­ish­ing for all – from the unborn to those liv­ing on death row. We invite you, we wel­come you, to plant new seeds in the gar­den of our minds and hearts.  Amen

    Supposing all this?

  • Photographs for a Time of Pandemic 7 “But if one seed dies, it produces many seeds…”

    During the 10 weeks of lock down Aberdeenshire Council has cut no grass. Not only that. They expressly prohibited residents from cutting council grass when some conscientious souls decided to do their civic duty keeping their own area tidy. The result has been an explosion of dandelions, turning central reservations, grass verges and larger areas of grass and woodland into symphonies of yellow. 

    DSC07713Then for weeks the dandelions have been doing what they do; making dandelion clocks, producing millions of seeds equipped with the latest models of parachutes. I've always been fascinated by the sheer ubiquity of seeds on a dandelion plant, which can have half a dozen heads, with more where they came from, continuously sprouting for weeks. One of the first butterflies I spotted proved the wisdom of the advice given by conservation groups like Scottish Wildlife and RSPB and the National Trust for Scotland; leave the dandelions, they are early food for bees and butterflies when not much else is available yet. That by the way is also the rationale for Aberdeenshire Council stopping vigilante flymo raids on their grass – over the years they have reduced the number of cuts in a season. I'm OK with that.

    Over the weeks of watching these plants, I began to think about the phenomenon of dandelions producing seeds in such abundance. These flowers, not weeds, ('weed' as a word is a social construction designed to discriminate against!) weren't always designated gardener's enemy number one. Dandelion tea, wine and herbal remedies go back to ancient Chinese, Egyptian, Greek and Roman cultures. Apparently a beautiful pale yellow dye can be made from the petals, and a purple colour from the ribs of the leaves. 

    IMG_2651All that said, from the study window we look out on an area of communal Council grass which this year has been festooned in yellow followed by thousands of dandelion clocks each with up to 200 seeds. A breeze is enough to create a summer seed blizzard, and every one of those parachutes a potential plant for next year. A dandelion clock is a wonderful thing, such a concentration of potential, of life ready to disperse and renew the cycle of flower and seed, year on year – apparently they've been around for 30 million years, give or take a week or two. 

    In a world scared of the capacity of the Coronavirus to bridge, infect and reproduce, there was something strangely comforting about seeing seeds anchored on the flower, then letting go and floating in the air, and who knows where or whether they will find soil, and water, and the chance of life. The world goes on, and for now, so do we. Throughout this whole pandemic crisis I've been aware of a new and stronger sense of the importance of hope as the foundation for the kind of trust that will keep us  living towards the future 

    Sometimes I try to reduce a thought to the disciplined form of Haiku. This is one of them, arising from looking closely at a dandelion clock: 

    Acknowledge beauty,
    and pay attention to seeds
    which hold the future.

    IMG_2796All those seeds, ubiquitous, fragile, formed for flight, so well equipped to relocate elsewhere given a good breeze in the right direction, each seed arranged on the flower head with geometric precision; close up it's a glory of creative genius.

    Every single seed fecund with possibility, durably delicate, awaiting the right combination of environment, circumstances and whatever else it is that determines if it will be bird food, humus or next year's dandelion.

    But each of them is a seed, and I've learned all over again these past weeks to pay attention to seeds; they hold the future.

    Jesus said something really sad about seeds: "Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds."

    There is an inbuilt law of life that good futures don't just happen. They have to be built, and there is cost, sacrifice, and even the death of what is, so that what may be can emerge from the scaffolding of the present. Jesus was talking about his own death, and the life that would erupt from the dark hopelessness of a crucified and buried Messiah. "But if it die…….it bears much fruit."

    The principle of self-giving love is the beating heart of the Christian gospel. "God so loved the world that he gave his only Son…" The seed must die or it will forever be safe, solitary, unfulfilled. Watching those gossamer light seeds caught up in currents of air they can never control, imagination reaches beyond the physical possibilities of germination and propagation of this or that seed. The life principle, the hope potential, the promise inherent in seeds blown into the future, is not about death, full stop. They are, every one of them, a reminder that the living God is the God of the living. The seed must die….it bears much fruit.

    We are a resurrectional people, us Christians. We live in a world where death is not an irrevocable cosmic No to all that life is. Resurrection has happened, and the principle of life through death, demonstrated in Palestine, in a garden doubling as a cemetery, two thousand years ago, is now the pivot point of history, an event of eternally transformative power. And every believer who trusts to the immensity of that resurrectional power, who is drawn into the embrace of cruciform love, becomes one of millions of seeds, fertile with possibility to reproduce in kind, believing, loving trusting followers of Christ, the original and originating seed that died, and bears much fruit.    

  • Social Distancing Increases Misunderstandings and Unhelpful Standoffs.

    I posted this yesterday on my Facebook page. For those here who might be interested: Here's the problem:

    Coronavirus_460PXAn elderly man in M&S, looking a bit confused and uncertain, hovering around the end of the food aisle. He isn't wearing a mask, and absorbed in making up his mind has moved closer to another customer, though still a few feet away.
    This customer begins to speak forcefully to him to get back two metres, which puzzles him and I think makes him uncertain what he's doing wrong. She continues to lay down the rule, 'TWO METRES' as if saying it louder makes it clearer, a bit like English speakers abroad thinking their meaning is somehow translated by turning up the volume and speaking slowly.

    The guidance is wear a mask in enclosed public spaces; neither was doing so. The elderly man was unaware of the problem; the lady in question was making it worse by raising her voice in volume and intensity directly at the target of her ire.

    It's hard to know how to intervene helpfully when wearing a mask; apart from anything else it muffles the voice making it hard to be heard from two metres away. I'd need to take the mask off to say what I wanted to say clearly, and kindly.

    NicolaStill troubled at the checkout, the teller whom I know, without me saying anything, was saying her day was fine but some of the customers are "just horrible." I was left wondering about how to encourage kindness, love and solidarity, which I think is superb civic and ethical guidance from the Scottish Government.

    Put a random number of people in a public enclosed space, some with masks, some not; those without masks presumably think they'll risk being infected, missing the point that it is for other people's protection. Those wearing masks do so because it is the guidance, because they care for others and don't want to increase the risk to others, because it makes you feel safer even if it isn't all that effective…various reasons.

    But what you have in the shop are people who are anxious for themselves but not for others, people who are complacent about their own chances and no thought for others, some who are aware of the guidance and its rationale, others who are not, or think it's wrong and claim freedom to do what they want, others who work there and have to navigate the difficult currents of aggro, hassle, anxiety and downright selfishness spilling over to rudeness.

    I'm not happy. I want to have been able to do or say something that would enable better understanding, consideration, aye even kindness and solidarity at least as first steps to loving our neighbour as ourselves.

  • Bonhoeffer: “Your ‘yes’ to God requires your ‘no’ to all injustice, to all evil, to all lies…”

    6a00d8341c6bd853ef0240a4e5e750200d-320wiThe life and thought of Dietrich Bonhoeffer persists as an essential and critical voice even seventy five years after his death. There are so many reasons to pay attention to the occasional writings and speakings of Bonhoeffer; but in our time of fractious politics, slow and sometimes blatant power grabs, growing support for right wing populism and uncritical adulation of the strong leader, it is the radically uncompromising call and cost of discipleship in following Jesus that challenges Christian communities to decide where ultimate allegiance lies. This is Bonhoeffer the pastor, preaching a Confirmation sermon in 1938. The date is essential context, and the words are explosive in their political as well as theological and spiritual reverberations:   

    "You have only one master now…But with this 'yes' to God belongs just as clear a 'no.' Your 'yes' to God requires your 'no' to all injustice, to all evil, to all lies, to all oppression and violation of the weak and poor, to all ungodliness, and to all mockery of what is holy. Your 'yes' to God requires a 'no' to everything that tries to interfere with your serving God alone, even if that is your job, your possessions, your home, or your honour in the world. Belief means decision."

    Preached to young Christians facing what we now know as life in one of the most violent, lethal and merciless regimes in European history. The use of the word "master" is likewise laden with intentional contrast, and implies an either-or from which there can be no compromising third choice. One master. Who is it to be? Yes to God means 'no' to all other powers demanding final loyalty of mind, heart, soul and body. Belief means decision, not only one single decision after which it is business as usual; but a confirming decision that means all other decisions take their direction from that living and central commitment to Jesus Christ.

    What makes Bonhoeffer such a necessary discomfort to those who are at ease in Zion is his reiteration of the radical, risk-laden demands of the Gospel of Christ. Earlier translations of his book on discipleship were titled, The Cost of Discipleship.The critical edition is more accurate in the technical sense of the one word title: Discipleship. However commendable that title, it remains the case that Bonhoeffer's relentless emphasis on the nature of Christian following of Jesus focused on the cost of discipleship. That cost was inevitable and the sine qua non of faithfulness to God, and the authenticating hallmark of a life following the way of Jesus Christ, bearing a cross and headed for Calvary.

    The words from the confirmation sermon were not intended as comfortable invitation to convenient respectability, but as warning and call to a lifestyle and inner orientation at odds with all that is at odds with the way of Jesus. In other words this ongoing 'yes' compels a recurring 'no' to all that demands a different loyalty to alternative values and competing life goals. The life goal of the disciple is to be faithful to Christ, the values are rooted in the commitment of God in Christ to a reconciled world, and that 'Yes' carries within it a lifelong capacity for saying no; and Bonhoeffer is explicit in what is to be contradicted.

    "God requires your 'no' to all injustice, to all evil, to all lies, to all oppression and violation of the weak and poor, to all ungodliness, and to all mockery of what is holy."

    Those words are freighted with responsibility for the way we live our lives in the 2020 world of political and social divisions. One of the more easily overlooked features of contemporary life is the mockery of what is holy. That isn't new either, it was a social toxin flowing through the veins of National Socialism and its effect was the weakening of the immune system, making minds and wills less receptive and increasingly resistant to moral values of human worth, dignity and fundamental rights. 

    Picture1The mockery of what is holy is a theological version of the cliche 'nothing is sacred anymore'. But when that which one group in society reveres and holds as of essential value to their lives is mocked, ignored, or treated as trivial, the result is a dangerous diminishing of human capital and ethical safeguards. Bonhoeffer saw that happening over the years before the 1938 sermon. The mockery of what a society has deemed to be holy, pushes back boundaries and rewrites in coarser and less humane language what is acceptable, decent and for the common good. Eventually people themselves, those who hold on to what is holy and to be respected by consensus, are themselves mocked, diminished, and devalued.

    At that point Bonhoeffer could see with prophetic clarity, the fundamental Yes to God which orients the whole of life, demanded a faithful No to all in life that contradicts justice, goodness, truth, freedom, care for the weak and poor, and reverence for the holy. Yes implies No. You cannot serve God wholeheartedly and something else at the same time. The criterion for the Christian is the cross of Christ, a dying to all other claims on our will, conscience, heart, mind and body.

    I find these words of Bonhoeffer so uncomfortably apt in 2020 Britain and beyond. But I know of no other way to be faithful to the fundamental Yes I've said to God as a Christian, than to say with continuing conviction, and with relentless faithfulness, No. No to words that are lies; No to policies which humiliate and threaten the poor; No to policies of injustice and callous disregard for refugees and immigrants; No to hostile environments, to racism and antisemitism; No to the abuses of power when it is used to remove the very levers put in place to hold power accountable; No to the rhetoric of division; No to the deifying of capital, money, wealth, stuff and its consequent global inequity; and No to the laying waste of the only planet we have, in pursuit of all the above.

    And in all those sayings of No, those who follow Jesus faithfully in the 21st Century do so fully  recognising that the cost of discipleship is stated very plainly. Say Yes to God, and you say No to much else that is taken for granted as the way the world works. 

    (The sermon 'The Gift of Faith', was preached on April 9, 1938. See The Collected Sermons of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, (ed) Isabel Best, (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2012, pp. 201-206)