Les and I had a marvellous weekend a few days ago. We travelled south, with Jude, for some time with Les' extended family. On Friday night, an early 70th birthday meal for her elder sister, and the next evening a much bigger party for her cousin's 50th. We were particularly delighted that our own entire family made the journey to Hertfordshire to share in Saturday's festivities. They all love being with aunts, uncles and cousins. En route there or back, each of us in turn visited my mother, who is in a nursing home in Rugby, together with my sister and her husband who live nearby. So, a good all-round experience of family. During the day on Saturday, we wandered leisurely around St Albans, where I was brought up. It was market day, and the place was truly alive. I have never seen so much fresh fruit and veg on display. It was good to revisit the Abbey in particular, where I was confirmed just after we won the World Cup in 1966!
It was so good to reconnect with wider family and my own past.
On our return (leaving at 5.30a.m. to get back in time for church!), we found ourselves with a free Sunday evening. So we watched our latest rental DVD, 'Skyfall' - the most recent James Bond epic. Here I have to confess: I have never watched a James Bond film before! I gather this one was typical in terms of the spectacular effects, car chases, shootings and sexual encounters. Hugely entertaining stuff, but my overall feeling was that it was much ado about not very much. The plot, such as it was, made little sense to me. But I gather this was a more sensitive picture of Bond, by now an aging agent, rather past his sell-by date with more normal human feelings and a definite vulnerability. I guess I'd give it 3*s out of 5.
Presumably, if bizarrely, because of 'Skyfall', James Bond was the theme of the youth pilgrimage to the Anglican shrine at Walsingham, Norfolk last month. The ABC (Archbishop of Canterbury) addressed the pilgrims, saying that as Christians we are the opposite to James Bond: it is not our task to save the world single-handedly. Rather, we are part of a community, the Church, to whom God has indeed entrusted that task as the Body of Christ. This is a truth which bears on me more and more the longer I serve in ministry. I don't think many of us Christians realise just how important we are, as a body, in God's purposes for creation. For this reason, it is so important that we think in terms of 'we' in the Church rather than 'them and us' - for which you can read those of different theological persuasions, Christian denomination, or leaders and led.
I have had cause to address this recently in a particular situation, where them/us language has crept in. For Church, it is always 'we'. Could not the same be true of society, if we seek the common good? I have just started to read 'The New Few' by Ferdinand Mount. His thesis is that slowly, inexorably over more than 50 years Britain has slipped into oligarchy, or the exercise of government by the few i.e. the wealthy and powerful. Despite Osborne's 'all in this together', nothing could be further from the truth. It is very much 'us and them' - the wealthy, powerful few and the general public. Mount quotes Adam Smith from 1776:
People of the same trade seldom meet together, even for merriment and diversion, but that the conversation ends in a conspiracy against the public or in some contrivance to raise prices.
Ring any bells? The worrying thing is that history shows oligarchy e.g. in Rome to be a sign of a crumbling society.
Wednesday, 7 August 2013
Tuesday, 30 July 2013
Human Flourishing
Last weekend, Lesley and I celebrated our 39th wedding anniversary - or 35 years of wedded bliss, as I sometimes joke! Thanks to a 'gift' from Les' tax inspector we were able to go out for a meal at our favourite local Indian restaurant. The night before, we shared a meal with some friends who married the same day as us. It was great to see how their lives are taking off in new directions. She, in particular, is flourishing wonderfully in her slightly-after-middle-age!
Yesterday, my daily Bible reading was from Psalm 1, which reminds us that those flourish best who have their roots in God. The commentator quoted from a North American Indian:
It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive...I want to know if you can be with JOY, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness...if you can source your life on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon. YES!
The commentator goes on 'What interests you?' I think my answer would be 'human flourishing'; and conversely, what saddens me most is seeing people crushed, shrivelled, unable to live their life to the full. Of course, I happen to believe that we flourish best when we have faith in Jesus Christ, and many years ago I took as my 'motto' St Paul's words from Colossians 1.28-29, my life's work being the desire to present everyone mature in Christ. How effective I have been in that, I will not know until I leave this earth, but I know that I often fail my own test.
A friend has recently pointed me to the work of Naomi Klein, a Canadian author and journalist. She has coined the phrase 'Disaster Capitalism' to describe what seems to be a pernicious political strategy of the modern world. The most blatant example of this to date has been the 'shock and awe' tactic in Iraq, which cost many lives and enormous damage, on the basis that new businesses could move in and create a whole new infrastructure - and make a lot of money for themselves. Of course, this hasn't happened. Well, some no doubt have made money but the country remains unstable. The point about Disaster Capitalism is that it creates chaos, or moves into a chaotic situation, ostensibly with a rescue plan but really in order to create wealth for the investors. What has this to do with us? Well, it is said that the same tactic is being used with the NHS: create a sense of disorder, chaos, not-fit-for-purpose-ness, and it's ripe for privatization. It is said that the real problem at Mid-Staffs, for example, was not uncaring nurses or incompetent doctors, but mainly shortage of nurses. But create a sense of unease, of fear of going to hospital, and we'll welcome any change. So the theory goes.
But the desire for human flourishing goes very deep, and most people would rather improve and grow rather than dismantle and start again. Only in exceptional circumstances would this be the only solution. At the heart of Christian faith is resurrection, which is about taking what is and breathing new life into it - not destroy and replace.
Yesterday, my daily Bible reading was from Psalm 1, which reminds us that those flourish best who have their roots in God. The commentator quoted from a North American Indian:
It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive...I want to know if you can be with JOY, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness...if you can source your life on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon. YES!
The commentator goes on 'What interests you?' I think my answer would be 'human flourishing'; and conversely, what saddens me most is seeing people crushed, shrivelled, unable to live their life to the full. Of course, I happen to believe that we flourish best when we have faith in Jesus Christ, and many years ago I took as my 'motto' St Paul's words from Colossians 1.28-29, my life's work being the desire to present everyone mature in Christ. How effective I have been in that, I will not know until I leave this earth, but I know that I often fail my own test.
A friend has recently pointed me to the work of Naomi Klein, a Canadian author and journalist. She has coined the phrase 'Disaster Capitalism' to describe what seems to be a pernicious political strategy of the modern world. The most blatant example of this to date has been the 'shock and awe' tactic in Iraq, which cost many lives and enormous damage, on the basis that new businesses could move in and create a whole new infrastructure - and make a lot of money for themselves. Of course, this hasn't happened. Well, some no doubt have made money but the country remains unstable. The point about Disaster Capitalism is that it creates chaos, or moves into a chaotic situation, ostensibly with a rescue plan but really in order to create wealth for the investors. What has this to do with us? Well, it is said that the same tactic is being used with the NHS: create a sense of disorder, chaos, not-fit-for-purpose-ness, and it's ripe for privatization. It is said that the real problem at Mid-Staffs, for example, was not uncaring nurses or incompetent doctors, but mainly shortage of nurses. But create a sense of unease, of fear of going to hospital, and we'll welcome any change. So the theory goes.
But the desire for human flourishing goes very deep, and most people would rather improve and grow rather than dismantle and start again. Only in exceptional circumstances would this be the only solution. At the heart of Christian faith is resurrection, which is about taking what is and breathing new life into it - not destroy and replace.
Monday, 22 July 2013
People like us?
It was a very full-on weekend. On Saturday, we went to a Ruby Wedding celebration in Lancaster. This was a very special time of reunion, but I was embarrassed when a picture of me came up on the screen, from 1971, complete with full evening dress and in the company of a young female student who did not become my wife. I hadn't told Les about that one! The event also gave us some ideas for our own 'Ruby' next year - if we're still together!!
Yesterday was basically non-stop, comprising a big baptism service, a lunchtime meeting, BCP Evensong and finally Communion. Oh and a bit of domestic cleaning on the way!
I was told a few days ago that Mossley Hill/Allerton (where I live) is in the Sunday Times Top Ten for places to bring up a family. Get that - Liverpool, a good place for families! I was naturally gladdened, and can understand why this should be: good schools and local amenities, relatively low crime rate, good transport links etc.
As it happens, I was in a different conversation with a neighbour concerning the issues of our area. I asked him what he thought the main issues were. There aren't really any big ones, he said; people round here are 'small-c' conservative. They live here because they want to conserve what they have. My friend would be the first to admit that there are 'issues' here: lonely elderly folks living by themselves in large houses, the family having moved away; I suspect that levels of debt and alcoholism are rather higher than most of us realise; and there is undoubtedly mental ill health, often stress-related, for professional people in many walks of life. But, all things considered, this is a good place to live.
How does it affect church life, when it is all too easy to be complacent, self-satisfied, yet we constantly pray 'your kingdom come'? What would that look like? I and others talk often these days about the need for culture-change within the church, infected as we are with that 'nothing changes here' mentality. Here's a quote from a book I've mentioned before, Unapologetic by Francis Spufford. He is describing particular areas where the Church (of England) is open to criticism. One of these, he believes
...(is) our recurring tendency to give religious sanction to whatever is 'small-c' conservative in a society, at the expense of everybody who falls outside the conservative definition of what's good and natural ...It is possible to see the church...as virtue's tribe, as a new version of the self-satisfied Us...Then whatever is inside the tribal boundary begins to seem good because it is inside, and whatever is outside begins to seem wicked because it is outside.
Today the Church remembers Mary Magdalene, from whom Jesus cast seven demons and who was quite possibly a prostitute before becoming a disciple. She followed Jesus to the Cross and beyond to the tomb, becoming the first to see him following his resurrection and bearing the news to the other disciples. Would she have found a place within our church, I wonder?
Yesterday was basically non-stop, comprising a big baptism service, a lunchtime meeting, BCP Evensong and finally Communion. Oh and a bit of domestic cleaning on the way!
I was told a few days ago that Mossley Hill/Allerton (where I live) is in the Sunday Times Top Ten for places to bring up a family. Get that - Liverpool, a good place for families! I was naturally gladdened, and can understand why this should be: good schools and local amenities, relatively low crime rate, good transport links etc.
As it happens, I was in a different conversation with a neighbour concerning the issues of our area. I asked him what he thought the main issues were. There aren't really any big ones, he said; people round here are 'small-c' conservative. They live here because they want to conserve what they have. My friend would be the first to admit that there are 'issues' here: lonely elderly folks living by themselves in large houses, the family having moved away; I suspect that levels of debt and alcoholism are rather higher than most of us realise; and there is undoubtedly mental ill health, often stress-related, for professional people in many walks of life. But, all things considered, this is a good place to live.
How does it affect church life, when it is all too easy to be complacent, self-satisfied, yet we constantly pray 'your kingdom come'? What would that look like? I and others talk often these days about the need for culture-change within the church, infected as we are with that 'nothing changes here' mentality. Here's a quote from a book I've mentioned before, Unapologetic by Francis Spufford. He is describing particular areas where the Church (of England) is open to criticism. One of these, he believes
...(is) our recurring tendency to give religious sanction to whatever is 'small-c' conservative in a society, at the expense of everybody who falls outside the conservative definition of what's good and natural ...It is possible to see the church...as virtue's tribe, as a new version of the self-satisfied Us...Then whatever is inside the tribal boundary begins to seem good because it is inside, and whatever is outside begins to seem wicked because it is outside.
Today the Church remembers Mary Magdalene, from whom Jesus cast seven demons and who was quite possibly a prostitute before becoming a disciple. She followed Jesus to the Cross and beyond to the tomb, becoming the first to see him following his resurrection and bearing the news to the other disciples. Would she have found a place within our church, I wonder?
Monday, 15 July 2013
Acting the Good Samaritan
There was an end of term feel to yesterday morning's service at Mossley Hill, with a party following at which lunch and cakes were served with proceeds going to our heating appeal. We have just about reached 50% of total, so are well encouraged.
The Gospel reading was the Good Samaritan, and I had some children acting out the story. They were brilliant, especially the young girl who played the thug, beating up the hapless victim - who happened to be her brother. She acted the part energetically: 'years of pent-up emotion', said their mother! The point I emphasised was that the question the teacher asked Jesus ('Who is my neighbour?') is different from the one Jesus asks him ('Which one was the neighbour?') - it's a distinction between law and grace. Law which says 'what should I do?' and grace which says 'how should I live?' It's interesting that Luke the evangelist tells us the teacher 'wanted to justify himself'. That's what law does: gives you the means of protecting yourself, making you secure within your own terms of reference. But that isn't necessarily the way of Christ, who went beyond established boundaries and paid the price. Ultimately, of course, it is Christ who is the Good Samaritan, showing pours out mercy upon fallen human beings. And he is also victim, who calls us to take risks as we meet him in the poor and needy.
I used the example of Malala Yousafzai, the 16-year old Pakistani teenager shot by a Taliban gunman for championing women's education. Last week, she addressed the United Nations Youth Assembly:
I am (not) here to speak in terms of personal revenge against the Taliban...I do not even hate the one who shot me. Even if there was a gun in my hand and he was standing in front of me, I would not shoot him. This is the compassion I have learned...This is the philisophy of non-violence I have learned...This is the forgiveness I have learned. This is what my soul is telling me: be peaceful and love everyone.
I think the key word is 'learned'. Malala has been on an amazing journey, which has taken her from her small village to the UN. It has also been a journey to grace, releasing her from any sense of bitterness and strengthening her resolve for the cause she has espoused. A journey into grace is one we could all make: in short, it is about seeing the bigger picture, beyond our own personal circumstances to what God is doing in our life and in our world. That's something the teacher who met Jesus found it hard to do. It was all about him.
The Gospel reading was the Good Samaritan, and I had some children acting out the story. They were brilliant, especially the young girl who played the thug, beating up the hapless victim - who happened to be her brother. She acted the part energetically: 'years of pent-up emotion', said their mother! The point I emphasised was that the question the teacher asked Jesus ('Who is my neighbour?') is different from the one Jesus asks him ('Which one was the neighbour?') - it's a distinction between law and grace. Law which says 'what should I do?' and grace which says 'how should I live?' It's interesting that Luke the evangelist tells us the teacher 'wanted to justify himself'. That's what law does: gives you the means of protecting yourself, making you secure within your own terms of reference. But that isn't necessarily the way of Christ, who went beyond established boundaries and paid the price. Ultimately, of course, it is Christ who is the Good Samaritan, showing pours out mercy upon fallen human beings. And he is also victim, who calls us to take risks as we meet him in the poor and needy.
I used the example of Malala Yousafzai, the 16-year old Pakistani teenager shot by a Taliban gunman for championing women's education. Last week, she addressed the United Nations Youth Assembly:
I am (not) here to speak in terms of personal revenge against the Taliban...I do not even hate the one who shot me. Even if there was a gun in my hand and he was standing in front of me, I would not shoot him. This is the compassion I have learned...This is the philisophy of non-violence I have learned...This is the forgiveness I have learned. This is what my soul is telling me: be peaceful and love everyone.
I think the key word is 'learned'. Malala has been on an amazing journey, which has taken her from her small village to the UN. It has also been a journey to grace, releasing her from any sense of bitterness and strengthening her resolve for the cause she has espoused. A journey into grace is one we could all make: in short, it is about seeing the bigger picture, beyond our own personal circumstances to what God is doing in our life and in our world. That's something the teacher who met Jesus found it hard to do. It was all about him.
Thursday, 11 July 2013
Murray - Minted?*
* with apologies for the pun. (Are Murray Mints still around?)
So - Andy Murray did it last Sunday. I arrived home just in time for the last game, having listened to bits of it on the car radio while I did some parish visits. I confess I felt quite emotional as he won that final point, and the crowd erupted. I don't think it had anything to do with the '77-year wait for a British Wimbledon champion'. It was just that I love to see a person do well, especially if I have some kind of attachment to them - and here I must admit it is because he's British (well, Scottish I guess he would want to say). Les and I watched a documentary about Andy Murray a couple of weeks ago, and he came across as a really genuine person, who has known tears as well as joys in life. His parents, of course, are divorced and he came within an ace of the massacre at Dunblane Primary School: his class was the next one due in the gym where that terrible event occurred. He is clearly still scarred by the memory, as he wept talking about it on the film. It says much for him that, although Sue Barker (interviewing him) said, 'It's ok, we can cut this' as he struggled to control his emotions, he must have agreed to let that piece stay in the programme.
What now for Murray? A millionaire already at 26, fame, success and a celebrity. I hope he can handle it well. The signs are good, as I gather he has donated his Wimbledon winnings to the Royal Marsden Cancer charity. (He has a close friend who is seriously ill with cancer). It was also good to hear he phoned his grandparents straight after the game!
David Cameron wants to give him a knighthood. I cried out, 'Noooo....!' Too soon. Maybe at the end of his career. Maybe an MBE now. Such a reaction from the PM suggests to me much that is wrong in our current social attitudes. We are a meritocratic society, where rewards come too readily to people for their smallest achievements. I know winning Wimbledon is a big thing for a Brit, but I believe the bigger rewards (such as a knighthood) should be for lifetime achievements, or for outstanding contributions to the common good.
Speaking of the common good: have you signed up for Together for the Common Good this September? Go to www.togetherforthecommongood.co.uk. It concerns the legacy of David Sheppard and Derek Worlock, connecting faith and the good society.
On a related issue, here is something I've just read, about the dangers of allowing wealth (as in the Gross National Product) to determine our national priorities. It's by former US politician Robert Kennedy:
(it) does not allow for the health of our children, the quality of their education,or the joy of their play. It does not include the beauty of our poetry or the strength of our marriages, the intelligence of our public debate, or the integrity of our public officials. It measures neither our wit nor our courage, neither our wisdom nor our learning...it measures everything, in short, except that which makes life worthwhile.
While we rejoice at Murray's success, the magnitude of his rewards and the adulation heaped upon him say much about what we really value in our corporate life.
So - Andy Murray did it last Sunday. I arrived home just in time for the last game, having listened to bits of it on the car radio while I did some parish visits. I confess I felt quite emotional as he won that final point, and the crowd erupted. I don't think it had anything to do with the '77-year wait for a British Wimbledon champion'. It was just that I love to see a person do well, especially if I have some kind of attachment to them - and here I must admit it is because he's British (well, Scottish I guess he would want to say). Les and I watched a documentary about Andy Murray a couple of weeks ago, and he came across as a really genuine person, who has known tears as well as joys in life. His parents, of course, are divorced and he came within an ace of the massacre at Dunblane Primary School: his class was the next one due in the gym where that terrible event occurred. He is clearly still scarred by the memory, as he wept talking about it on the film. It says much for him that, although Sue Barker (interviewing him) said, 'It's ok, we can cut this' as he struggled to control his emotions, he must have agreed to let that piece stay in the programme.
What now for Murray? A millionaire already at 26, fame, success and a celebrity. I hope he can handle it well. The signs are good, as I gather he has donated his Wimbledon winnings to the Royal Marsden Cancer charity. (He has a close friend who is seriously ill with cancer). It was also good to hear he phoned his grandparents straight after the game!
David Cameron wants to give him a knighthood. I cried out, 'Noooo....!' Too soon. Maybe at the end of his career. Maybe an MBE now. Such a reaction from the PM suggests to me much that is wrong in our current social attitudes. We are a meritocratic society, where rewards come too readily to people for their smallest achievements. I know winning Wimbledon is a big thing for a Brit, but I believe the bigger rewards (such as a knighthood) should be for lifetime achievements, or for outstanding contributions to the common good.
Speaking of the common good: have you signed up for Together for the Common Good this September? Go to www.togetherforthecommongood.co.uk. It concerns the legacy of David Sheppard and Derek Worlock, connecting faith and the good society.
On a related issue, here is something I've just read, about the dangers of allowing wealth (as in the Gross National Product) to determine our national priorities. It's by former US politician Robert Kennedy:
(it) does not allow for the health of our children, the quality of their education,or the joy of their play. It does not include the beauty of our poetry or the strength of our marriages, the intelligence of our public debate, or the integrity of our public officials. It measures neither our wit nor our courage, neither our wisdom nor our learning...it measures everything, in short, except that which makes life worthwhile.
While we rejoice at Murray's success, the magnitude of his rewards and the adulation heaped upon him say much about what we really value in our corporate life.
Sunday, 30 June 2013
Holiday Reading
We returned from holiday on Friday, to the inevitable backlog of emails. It's been a really good couple of weeks for me and Les - we even had some sunshine. I feel physically refreshed, spiritually restored and renewed. There's a lot happening over the next few weeks and months.
Generally, I like to keep 2 or 3 books on the go at the same time, and did so while I was away. For light relief, I read Michael Frayn's Skios - a farce involving mistaken identities on a Greek island, where wealthy patrons of a Trust have met for their annual gathering. Fun!
I have much enjoyed reading Unapologetic by Francis Spufford. It's a recently-published book, the author of which takes on the likes of Dawkins and Hitchens to claim that Christianity makes surprising emotional sense, in spite of all the alleged inconsistencies. Spufford himself is a practising Anglican Christian, but hardly typical in terms of his writing. It is racy, witty and passionate (proves that Anglicans can sometimes have these qualities!) and actually very convincing as he deals with some of the arguments for unbelief thrown at Christians. But don't read it if you're easily offended. He uses quite colourful language, as for example his definition of sin as the HPtFtU (the Human Propensity to F*** things Up)! He confronts head-on the problem of evil, both in terms of personal misfortune and global terror. My favourite quote is Far more can be mended than you know. I would recommend this to any Christian who feels at all browbeaten or defeated; and definitely to any sceptic who wonders whether Christianity can be believed in at all, with integrity.
Then, I am still wading through excerpts from Samuel Pepys' diaries. Here's a couple of things I didn't know: they are incredibly detailed and voluminous, including not only historical detail but also what he wore from day to day and what he ate; secondly, they cover only a period of less than 9 years, from January 1 1660 to May 31 1669, when he was in his late 20s/early 30s. He describes his rise to prominence during the Restoration of the monarchy (King Charles II comes to the throne), as a senior administrator for the Navy under the Earl of Sandwich. Although never quite achieving a knighthood (which he regrets) he is clearly highly thought of. Historically, of course, this was a period of considerable turbulence during which there was the Great Plague and the Fire of London in 1666, both of which are described in minute detail. Anglicans will also realise it was the time when the Book of Common Prayer (1662) was finalised, and Pepys often makes mention of Common Prayer, which he uses both privately and on 'the Lord's Day', as he always refers to Sundays.
November 4 1660 Lord's Day: Mr Mills did begin to nibble at the Common Prayer by saying 'Glory be to the Father etc' after he had read two psalms. But the people have beene so little used to it that they could not tell what to answer.
And as to religion itself: I see religion, be it what it is, but a humour (i.e. a mood), so that the esteem of it passeth as other things do. Nevertheless, Pepys is a most religious man who regularly comments on sermons he has heard and gives thanks to God for his good fortune.
An interesting debate to be had here about the difference between faith (as experienced and lived by Spufford) and religion (as meticulously observed by Pepys). There is no doubt in my mind that the latter must give way to the former otherwise - which is what 'religion' means - we are simply bound.
Generally, I like to keep 2 or 3 books on the go at the same time, and did so while I was away. For light relief, I read Michael Frayn's Skios - a farce involving mistaken identities on a Greek island, where wealthy patrons of a Trust have met for their annual gathering. Fun!
I have much enjoyed reading Unapologetic by Francis Spufford. It's a recently-published book, the author of which takes on the likes of Dawkins and Hitchens to claim that Christianity makes surprising emotional sense, in spite of all the alleged inconsistencies. Spufford himself is a practising Anglican Christian, but hardly typical in terms of his writing. It is racy, witty and passionate (proves that Anglicans can sometimes have these qualities!) and actually very convincing as he deals with some of the arguments for unbelief thrown at Christians. But don't read it if you're easily offended. He uses quite colourful language, as for example his definition of sin as the HPtFtU (the Human Propensity to F*** things Up)! He confronts head-on the problem of evil, both in terms of personal misfortune and global terror. My favourite quote is Far more can be mended than you know. I would recommend this to any Christian who feels at all browbeaten or defeated; and definitely to any sceptic who wonders whether Christianity can be believed in at all, with integrity.
Then, I am still wading through excerpts from Samuel Pepys' diaries. Here's a couple of things I didn't know: they are incredibly detailed and voluminous, including not only historical detail but also what he wore from day to day and what he ate; secondly, they cover only a period of less than 9 years, from January 1 1660 to May 31 1669, when he was in his late 20s/early 30s. He describes his rise to prominence during the Restoration of the monarchy (King Charles II comes to the throne), as a senior administrator for the Navy under the Earl of Sandwich. Although never quite achieving a knighthood (which he regrets) he is clearly highly thought of. Historically, of course, this was a period of considerable turbulence during which there was the Great Plague and the Fire of London in 1666, both of which are described in minute detail. Anglicans will also realise it was the time when the Book of Common Prayer (1662) was finalised, and Pepys often makes mention of Common Prayer, which he uses both privately and on 'the Lord's Day', as he always refers to Sundays.
November 4 1660 Lord's Day: Mr Mills did begin to nibble at the Common Prayer by saying 'Glory be to the Father etc' after he had read two psalms. But the people have beene so little used to it that they could not tell what to answer.
And as to religion itself: I see religion, be it what it is, but a humour (i.e. a mood), so that the esteem of it passeth as other things do. Nevertheless, Pepys is a most religious man who regularly comments on sermons he has heard and gives thanks to God for his good fortune.
An interesting debate to be had here about the difference between faith (as experienced and lived by Spufford) and religion (as meticulously observed by Pepys). There is no doubt in my mind that the latter must give way to the former otherwise - which is what 'religion' means - we are simply bound.
Tuesday, 18 June 2013
Blackbird sings
My favourite bird has to be the blackbird. I can remember years ago, doing my A levels one hot summer, a blackbird was my constant companion singing constantly in the high branches of the leafy horse chestnut tree outside my window. Ever since, I have loved the blackbird's song and it never fails to cheer me. You'll see him (it is the male who sings!) perched not only in trees but on TV aerials, on roof tops and chimney stacks, singing away. Look carefully and you'll see how his whole body is involved: a huge amount of energy goes into that song. It's described in one of my bird books as 'superb, musical, full-throated, mellow, warbling with many variations'.
Les and I went for a long walk today, and observed another songbird - the skylark. Its behaviour is amazing (captured in Vaughan Williams' music, 'Lark Ascending'): soaring high into the air with an exuberant outpouring of sound, till - seemingly exhausted with the effort - it sinks to the ground and rests, still chirruping away. Again, it is as if all the energy of the bird goes into its song.
I wonder why birds sing. Sometimes, it seems to be entirely for our entertainment if, alone in some country place, a bird is in full voice. I believe it is also just one illustration of the Psalmist's exhortation, 'Let everything that has breath, praise the Lord!' Is it too far-fetched to believe that is precisely why the song bird exists, to give praise to our Maker, to lift our spirits heaven-ward?
This little fella came and landed by me while I was taking some pictures on Lindisfarne last month.
Les and I went for a long walk today, and observed another songbird - the skylark. Its behaviour is amazing (captured in Vaughan Williams' music, 'Lark Ascending'): soaring high into the air with an exuberant outpouring of sound, till - seemingly exhausted with the effort - it sinks to the ground and rests, still chirruping away. Again, it is as if all the energy of the bird goes into its song.
I wonder why birds sing. Sometimes, it seems to be entirely for our entertainment if, alone in some country place, a bird is in full voice. I believe it is also just one illustration of the Psalmist's exhortation, 'Let everything that has breath, praise the Lord!' Is it too far-fetched to believe that is precisely why the song bird exists, to give praise to our Maker, to lift our spirits heaven-ward?
This little fella came and landed by me while I was taking some pictures on Lindisfarne last month.
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