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  • The Wright Stuff – The Gospel of the Kingdom

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    I've slowly been reading Tom Wright's How God Became King. One of the strengths of Wright's overall approach to the New Testament is the way he takes hold of us, grabs our shoulders, and turns us round to look at things from a different perspective. In other words he calls in question the received point of view, and by a tour de force compels consideration of an alternative interpretation of the evidence.

    This book is a delight to read, and it helps that I happen to agree almost without demur with his overall thesis  – the Gospels are indeed about the Kingdom of God; and Jesus is the one in whom we see the kingship of God in all the mystery and majesty of love incarnate and the embodied holiness of God. It is unhelpful to create a tension far less a contention between Paul and Jesus – but for that precise reason, Wright is correct to insist that much of New Testament theology and historical study has carried a presumption of  priority for Paul as the theologian par excellence of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

    A reading of the Gospel that takes them at their face value as accounts of the life, ministry and meaning of Jesus restores a necessary balance and provides the major canonical corrective, holding the balance between event and interpretation, between the Gospel of the Kingdom of God and the lived reflection of the first Christian communities. Gospels and Epistles create an essential conversation between the Gospel of Jesus and hermeneutic reflection emeging from the church's experience in the life of the Spirit. This and much more comes from Wright's characteristic combination of creative scepticism about received assumptions and persuasive argument built on analytic and synthetic control of the full range of material necessary for constructive New Testament theology and history.

    I am enjoying this book.

    The plaque above is by Ghiberti, from the Florence Baptistry of San Giovanni, and shows the Triumphal Entry – a key event not only for understanding the KIngdom of God, but as an authoritative statement of Christology. I love the work of Ghiberti.



  • The Castle of Gight and the Clan Gordon

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    Went walking at Forest of Gight and came across the ruin of the Castle of Gight, which used to belong to the Gordons. Unfortunately they ran out of money and it was sold to the Earl of Aberdeen in 1797. By the early 19th Century it fell into disuse and ruin. It still has the outline and some of the features of a Scottish Castle though, and I went in to explore having read the warnings and disclaimers – but I was careful.

    From inside I took a couple of photos – one looking up the ruined round tower, and the other through a side window that looked like a stone picture frame.

     Here they are:

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  • The Mystery of Gratuitous Beauty and Ubiquitous Gift

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    The Summer Day

    Mary Oliver

    Who made the world?
    Who made the swan, and the black bear?
    Who made the grasshopper?
    This grasshopper, I mean-
    the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
    the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
    who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
    who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
    Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
    Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
    I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
    I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
    into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
    how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
    which is what I have been doing all day.
    Tell me, what else should I have done?
    Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
    Tell me, what is it you plan to do
    with your one wild and precious life?

    This is the poem that brought Mary Oliver's poetry to my attention and I've read her regulary ever since. On a blue sky sunny day in Westhill, Aberdeenshire, this celebration of life and its unique unrepeatable giftedness is a reminder of responsibility to live life well and grateful for the gift it is and the gifts it brings.

    The photo was taken in Aberdeen Botanic Garden – such fragile transient beauty, – cause for wonder, and praise and grateful holding of all that is Gift.

  • The Angel Share – The Amber Liquid of Hope….

    Had a moving and hilarious night at the cinema watching The Angel's Share. I've heard about it from others who went, and missed it on general release but caught it on a one off showing in Aberdeen. The reviews describe it as a movie about a young ned with a last chance to make something more of his life. No big names in the film, but lots of acting talent and character portrayal – from the caricature to the stereotype.

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    Everyone will find their own window into this hard world of social realism at the tough end of the socio-economic spectrum. For me there were several stand out moments in a film that simply drew me into the dramas of several lives, as they slowly became the woven strands of the central drama – how to steal the world's rarest cask of whisky without being caught.

    When Robbie holds his new baby son, and calls him Luke, something changes in the way he looks at the world. When he then faces one of the victims of his drugs fuelled violence there are  several minutes of relentless emotional hammering as he hears from his victim, and his victim's mother, the cost and cosequence of his mindless violence. Through tears of bewilderment and guilt he hears the mother demand that he look at her. Look becomes an important word no matter how it is spelled.

    The amber liquid made in Scotland from girders is not whisky, but Irn Bru. And the Irn Bru bottles become central to the story as it twists and turns to its conclusion. The contrast between the Community Service Group and those bidding over a million for a cask of whisky is one of Loach's recurring themes of social justice, life chances and young people struggling to remain hopeful aginst all the social forces that do them down.

    The combination of humour and pathos, of tenderness and violence, of fluent obscenity and linguistic clarity, of friendship and enmity, and of hopelessness and hopefilled longing,  was just this side of confusing cynicism and sentiment. And the ending is both hopeful and ambiguous, which life tends to be, even for the most resilient.

    Theological reflection on such a film probably shouldn't be done the morning after. But one thought nags away – the love of a good woman, the birth of a child, and the stated theme from the start, of one more chance at life – this film explores the transforming power of love, whether the love of Leone for her and Robbie's son Luke, or the raging love of the mother confronting her son's attacker at the meeting for restorative justice. And woven throughout, the goodness of the Community Services Supervisor, who offers home, guidance and an expanding world to this Glasgow prodigal son.

  • Went to the University Library for a Holiday.

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    Yesterday I went to the Aberdeen University Library because I was on holiday. I didn't take my camera so this is the photo I took last year when I did the same. If holidays are about relaxing, finding space, being intrigued, discovering new things, having fun, ignoring the watch, then some hours in a book depository does it for me, every time.

    No it's not the same as being where it's sunny and warm, and where new cultural experiences, sights and sounds are all around, where food is different and reliably good, and where there is enough distance to feel the ties that bind slacken enough to give freedom from work, relaxing of usual circumstance and some reduction of the pressures of what we misleadingly call "life". 

    But then again – what worlds there are in a library; what new vistas to be opened up standing surrounded by thousands of books and free to open any one of them. It's a place of reflective silence, of respected space, of generous extravagance and freedom of movement, of deliberately created opportunity to think, and feel, and wonder. You can sit and read in the sun – as I did yesterday from Floor 6 looking out over the North Sea.

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    It so happened I was looking for paintings and sculpture – pictures thereof. So I was in early Northern Renaisance Netherlands, then Southern Renaissance Venice, then 19th Century Arles in France, before a flying visit to Victorian England. With a visit to Amsterdam looming I wanted to check on what I absolutely must see in the Rijksmuseum and the Van Gogh Museum. But I got waylaid at the end by the Pre-Raphaelite section as well.

    I've had several holidays in this same place, this green glass intellectual travel agency where the only limit on destination is imagination, thought and curiosity. Poetry, theology, philosophy, and art tend to my usual intellectual resorts, but with unscheduled trips to other, stranger subject areas. I'll be back, and long before next year….

     

  • Ricky Gervais, Kittens and Cardiff University – or ethics with our eyes open.

    Ricky_gervais_01Now and again it's the comedian who, like the joker and jester of old, opens the eyes of the audience to unpleasant truth. Ironic that Ricky Gervais has opened the eyes of the wider public to an experiment involving sewing the eyes of 31 kittens closed, and once the experiment was complete, the kittens were destroyed. Cardiff University defends the experiments because they are aimed at understanding the signals between the eye and the brain cortex, an important area of ophthalmic research into lazy eye conditions in humans. You can read more here

    The University Ethics committee approved the experiment, which of course begs the question about which criteria are invoked to justify such purposeful cruelty. Interesting that in search of a cure for a human condition, inhumane treatment of non humans is spoken of not only as acceptable but as an imperative claiming moral high ground. Further, the very procedures required suggest a best an emotional confusion for the scientists and vets involved, who we believe are acting out of altruistic compassion. You have to be cruel to be kind isn't to my knowledge a scientifically established procedure. 

    On any ethically responsible investment portfolio it would be difficult to justify making money, or putting money into, what by any definition is such an extreme form of animal cruelty. What makes this situation more unacceptable is that tax payers' money funds this particular research project. I not only object to that; I protest against whatever guidelines make it possible to sanction such behaviour. 

    Then there is the question of animal rights which are the flip side of human obligations. What is it, what exactly and precisely is the basis for human beings treating other life-forms as if pain, suffering and abbreviated life is at the behest of human self interest? We rightly prosecute those who are cruel to animals. Why wasn't the Cardiff University experiment articulated truthfully and transparently, and only when outed is there the usual ethical smokescreen of the greater good?

    Is it really necessary cruelty? Even if it is necessary to find a cure for lazy eye, does that necessity and the perceived possible benefit override the cost to the animals, and the desnesitizing impact such behaviour has on human attitudes to other sentient beings? Sewing a kitten's eyes shut is rather different from recalibrating a tool, rebooting a computer, or trying out a new golf club! Different too from putting a car through a road impact test that wrecks it. I mean different in kind – inanimate as opposed to animate. Sentient life is not a mere commodity for human consumption, and animal suffering is not to be discounted merely because scientific research is furthered by it. The balance is finer than that, and the moral implications of sanctioned cruelty far more dangerous, and requiring higher ethical norms than utilitarianism. 

    University Research Ethics Committees are highly responsible, ethically informed and composed of people who combine commonsense, humanity and expertise. As such they are expected to acknowledge the profound responsibility of acting under public trust, and in decision-making be transparent and outward looking beyond the immediate interests of its researchers. This is true especially in areas of such heightened sensitivity as balancing animal welfare and perceived human benefit, or animal suffering and assumed advances in knowledge.

    This however, was not an experiment in the search for a cure of a life threatening condition. Even if it were, misgivings and safeguards ought still to be an essential part of a process that demonstrates there is no other way. Even then such a conclusion is not itself a sufficient reason for proceeding with an experiment of inflicted suffering. It is a legitimate question -where are the boundaries of human behaviour and inumane behaviour in pursuit of human welfare? 

    All readers of this blog know I'm a cat lover. But if the experiment were carried out on mice, rats or rabbits the arguments would be the same, and the outrage as real. So I'm not special pleading for my own pet preferences. Therefore no cute pictures of cuddly kittens in this post – and no distressing images of mutilated animals either. Instead I post a protest at the hubris and callousness of human behaviour towards creatures over whom we have absolute control and the power of death or worse. That power brings with it responsibility and the institutional imperative of a University that life never be discounted, and suffering of animals never be dismissed as the mere emotional inconvenience of an oversensitive public. 

    And as a taxpayer I express outrage that I am implicated through public funding in practices that would – rightly - have me jailed if done outside a laboratory. Public opinion may be deemed fickle by the scientific community who are well into data and statistics and social trends – but public instincts and disapproval are important guidelines for decision-makers. And there are times when what is done in our name is plain wrong – this is such a case.

  • A day on the Moray Coast

    Today we followed the sun up to the Moray coast, and spent the afternoon in Banff. By now we are all but acclimatised to wet, cold, mist and pretending life's happiness and contentment doesn't depend entirely on the weather. So this photo captures evidence to the contrary – happy folk on a North Scottish beach!

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    Walking along the costal trail the sun came and went, and the sky changed like the backdrops of a theatre show, quietly and stealthily shifting scene without giving the show away. Then I looked out at the sea and saw this, like a split photo in which one side has had the colour faded for effect. The mackerel sky and the blue sky reflected on the water. It was a magic moment.

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    And from the macro-picture to the micro-picture - a botanical juxtaposition.

     

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     On top of all this, a prolonged sighting of a seal bottling, suspending itself with its head and neck out the water like a curious tourist wondering where the best fish supper is to be had. And the school of dolphins tailing and piloting the Lifeboat out doing its routine training and servicing, graceful movement and the uncanny sense that they were the ones playing along with those limited intelligence creatures who need a boat to cope with water!

     

  • Puts You in the Holiday Mood – Ornitheology

    The Farnborough Air show brings in around £48 billion in trade agreements, many of them related to armaments, a trade-off which has its own Shard sized ethical question mark for those trying to live wittily in the tangle of our minds as followers of Jesus!

    Black_redstart3_180_180x240But I love it when God speaks ironically. Like when it is discovered that a pair of very rare black redstarts have nested in one of the show tents. And legislation and the commonsense of the powers that be, including contractors, have left the tent standing and the area immediately around it undusturbed. In a couple of weeks the young birds will have flown, and the world can get on with the business of selling air power, whether for travel or war.

    Look at the sparrows of the air, five for a farthing, and not one of them falls but the Creator sees it, notes it, and cares. For sparrow read black redstart. So while the big deals are being done, and the Billions are being traded, two birds weighing an ounce or two between them, go on doing what life does, reflecting the will of God like a sacrament of life and hope – building a nest, raising the next generation, and doing so as an endangered species. And we think humans are the apex of creation….hmmm. And I wonder if the Holy Spirit, the Dove of Peace, was brooding over Farnborough grieved by the uses we make of technology, but delighted with the joy of God at a fragile nest, with featherless nestlings, defying all the hardware, and just needing a little time and peace to show that life, with all its contingencies, is mystery and miracle that puts all our technology in its place. 

  • Two masterpieces in one day

    Yesterday's surprise was an accident of providence that forunately I was lucky enough to experience due to a remarkable coincidence of cirucmstances intersecting by pure chance! I was preaching in Fife despite being on holiday because I promised a year ago and I like the folk.It meant passing through St Andrews. And there was an exhibition of paintings by Samuel Peploe the Scottish Colourist artist. So on the way home we stopped to go see.

    In one afternoon I saw, enjoyed and digested two masterpieces. The first was a pizza margherita with black olives in Little Italy in St Andrews. One of the best pizzas I've ever had, with iced lemon water and time to savour. Each wedge able to be held and enjoyed without that disappointing wilt towards sogginess in the centre that is often the experience of the dedicated pizza connoisseur.

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    Then there was Peploe's painting, The Blue and White Teapot. Don't ask me why I think this is a beautiful painting because analysis usually descends into explanation and diminishment. Aesthetic enjoyment, spiritual insight, emotional contentment, paying attention with both sides of the brain – all of these – but for me it's that inexplicable  power to command attention, that gently persistent summons to the desultory wandering Sunday afternoon painting spotter, "Stop! Look! See!.

    Like spending time with words and text in Lectio Divina, you are dutifully reading, and to be honest, often skimming, and then the voice is heard, the text speaks, and you listen, pay attention, or rather – give attention. Because I'm more and more convinced that in front of great art what is required of us is the willingness to give ourselves to beauty, goodness and truth. That's why I appreciate seats in an art gallery. Time to inhabit space not our own, intentional slow-down against the inner impetus to keep moving, permission to sit in front of a subject so Other that we ourselves are called into question. 

    God looked on all God created, and is creating, and saw that it was good. Strong echoes of that inward approval and appreciation are felt when we encounter that which addresses us, catches us unawares. I dare say that is the work of the Holy Spirit, leading us into truth, opening us up,to goodness, and silencing our nervous chatter as we encounter the Beautiful. And just in case we get too carried away by aesthetics narrowly conceived, there is the beauty of a perfectly made pizza! No photo of the pizza – by the time I thought of it it was gone!