Do not fear…

 

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This is the command most commonly used in the Bible. Interesting huh? Out of all the commands that we might have inherited from thousands of years of history covered by the writings in the canon of Christian scripture, this is the one that resonates most frequently. Why? It is almost as if fear has a toxicity in terms of human relations that we should no under estimate.

I was reminded again of these words when listening to More or Less on radio 4 t’other day. The programme is all about numbers – not my natural medium – but in this instance the numbers were concerned with deaths by terrorist acts in the West.

Death  by unknown random malevolence has become the fear most reflected in media output and our political rhetoric. Is is strange then to note that many more people died in a previous epoch of terror in the 1970s.

There are a number of problems with this kind of fear;

  1. The point of terrorism is to induce fear and panic out of all proportion at a population wide level. If we allow the fear to dominate our thoughts and action then the men and women of violence win
  2. Death is inevitable and everywhere. Risks of untimely deaths through road travel for example are vastly higher to each and every one of us. Yet we do not fear this kind of death- it is an acceptable risk, incorporated into daily life
  3. Fear of terrorism justifies huge acts of violence, oppression and human rights abuses carried out by our own governments
  4. This kind of fear obscures other evils in our communities that might matter more; growing inequalities of wealth, health and opportunity, scapegoating of outsiders, spiritual poverty

Did anything good ever come from fear?

Of course, fear can keep us safe. At some level, healthy fear and respect of danger is an essential part of human evolution. We need to fear tigers, fire and the precipice. Translate this fear into the complexities of a post industrial society however and things become more more complex.

It could be argued that there is an epidemic of fear sweeping though western civilisation. Despite living in a time when we are living longer than any time in history, when crime levels are falling, when most of us live safe, prosperous lives, the levels of clinical anxiety appear to be rising everywhere. The Mental Health Foundation released a study suggesting that nearly half of people in the UK feel more anxious than they used to, and one in five feel anxious all the time.

Chronic clinical anxiety is a terrible thing to experience and let us not pretend that it is in any way easy to overcome, no matter the growth industry of Cognitive Behavioural Therapy and Lilly-the-pink calming tablets. My point here is to wonder how the underlying circumstances that lead to a population wide increase in anxiety came in to being. Is it because we have allowed a certain kind of fear to be endlessly celebrated, recycled and displayed?

My suggestion is that nothing good comes from this kind of fear. It drives wedges between us and our neighbours. It prevents us from embracing experience and passion. It denudes human experience.

It celebrates protectionism and revenge over openness and reconciliation.

It is incompatible with the way of love.

25 “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? 26 Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27 Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life[e]?

28 “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29 Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30 If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? 31 So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32 For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 33 But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

Matthew 6

Chiff chaff

 

The TFT on the EU referendum…

Military flags, Lichfield Cathedral

I thought it time to make some comments as we approach the referendum vote that may or may not lead to the UK sticking two fingers up at Johnny foreigner once again and once more fortifying the old white cliffs for the sake of good old Albion.

Here we go;

 

I do not like referendums

The Scottish in/out one was the same; it reduced great complexity down to a simple binary seductive question. We elect governments to govern. Referendums are the means by which governments abdicate responsibility. I hate the way they divide people, often along narrow sectarian grounds. I hate the fact that all sorts of things that really matter are obscured behind the fog they create.

 

Any question has two answers, any answer has a reply, any statistic has a contradiction

We learn nothing from the so called debate, apart from the futility of the debate itself. Therefore what drives our vote will almost certainly NOT be reasoned reflection after a careful examination of the facts. We will decide based on narrow totemic issues that arise from our own prejudices and associations.

 

Immigration is all about inequality, not border controls

Speaking of totemic issues, this one may well be the clincher in this referendum. On the one hand we hear that we need immigrants in the UK; they are by far a net contributor to our economy. On the other hand the fear and resentment that they create (aided and abetted by the politics of hate and by certain newspapers) means that this debate has nothing to do with economics. It is obvious to anyone however that what drives immigration is rampant inequality. Yes war and famine may create mass movements but the real engine is the fact that we in the west have far more than we need and do not want to share it with the poor south. Brexit ignores the issues and focuses instead on blaming the victim. It all makes me feel ill.

 

In or out, nothing that matters will change very much

The debate about national sovereignty and democracy makes much of the fact that here in this island we need to be in control of our own fate, our own destiny. But of course, we are NOT. Power is wielded by the powerful and this will not change. The poor will remain poor and those who are privileged will continue to pamper themselves at the expense of the rest. When we talk about leaving Europe in order to ‘make our own decisions’, I find myself wondering WHO will make our own decisions? At a time when political power is ever more concentrated in the hands of those who are from a tiny section of society. At a time too when even success in theatre, in comedy, in rock music is related to the wealth of your parents. The bourgeoisie control not just the means of production, but even the means of distraction.

 

The questions that matter are not being asked

In the wake of global recession, what have we learned? What has been our response? Who have been the winners and who have been the losers? What about the environment? What about enforced inequality? Are we simply retreating ever more into our little enclaves of security and adopting a ‘me-first-and-mine’ mentality, and the rest can just go hang? The EU debate is at best irrelevant to these questions, and at worst is distracting, destructive and confusing.

 

There is a crucial difference between Internationalism and Globalism

The real power in Europe is held by Globalised corporations, whose motivation is to maintain an unequal status quo in order to maximise profits. Much of the debate we hear about Europe is focused on whether British companies will be able to make more or less money in or out of the European union. Yet we all know that capital is global. Lest I sound naive, I know that the complexities of our economy can mean that small shifts in things like ‘confidence’ can result in company closures and redundancies, but let us not kid ourselves that globalised corporations care much for borders, no matter how elastic. The City of London will not be diminished, and yet in its shadow, we are all reduced to nothing more than consumer units.

Internationalism on the other hand is a political principle which advocates a greater political or economic cooperation among nations and peoples, and whose ideological roots can be traced to both socialism and liberalism. It grew in the wake of world wars and offered the prospect that we humans might aspire to something greater than just narrow self interest. Internationalism has known many failures throughout the cold war. It has been used to justify all sorts of political and economic expediencies (such as the Gulf war for example) but it remains an ideal that appeals to the best in us.

The EU has roots in both Globalisation and Internationalism. I am repelled by the former and remain hopeful about the latter.

 

Small is beautiful, but connectedness is strength

The UK is a small place full of smaller places. Scotland is a smaller place, full of even smaller places. If we are serious of democracy, we have to be able to make real decisions at a local level. But equally, we have to be able to look outwards and seek to share and co-operate. We have to see the benefits that come from fair trade and intellectual/cultural exchanges with the other. Both these things are worth striving for. Neither of them are gifted by staying in or coming out.

 

Beware who you share a platform with

There has been a lot of this recently; people united across the political spectrum because of their support for one side of the debate or the other. The process demands this. But if one thing above all will influence my vote it is the sight of Gove and Boris moon-facing me with another dire warning about European interference about the bentness of our bananas.

 

All institutions are flawed

European ones are, so are those in the UK. All are formed by compromise between the powers and interests that they seek to mitigate. Sometimes they carry the circumstances of their formation within their DNA longer than might be regarded as useful, and so all have to be subject to constant reform if they are to remain relevant. The bigger they are, the harder this reform is however and the further this is from the lives of real people.

 

WWJV? (What would Jesus vote?)

He would be too busy caring for the poor and broken. He would probably be looking after refugees.

 

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Summer is here

You can tell it is summer because the PS Waverley is slapping up and down on the Clyde and I am playing cricket again…

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Here I just survived an attempt to attack that went through everything…

Cricket this year is a little strange, as Will and I are playing for different teams in different leagues. It was always going to happen I suppose as he is a lot better than me now as a bowler and a batsman. Yesterday I inched my way to 28 for Bute against Kilmarnock before getting out flailing at the death of the innings. He hit 56 for Greenock against Irvine including a six.

However there is something of worth in preserving the remaining small sports clubs that used to be scattered throughout Scotland. My home team (Innellan Cricket Club) has struggled of late for all sorts of reasons, and so we have arranged a ‘soft merger’ with Bute Cricket Club. We will support their league fixtures and they will play for us in our Sunday friendly fixtures. This meant that I had to register to play for Bute in the League, and so I can no longer play with Will.

Small club life is demanding but in this time when we are all increasingly isolated behind our many screens and gated patches of shrubbery, I value cricket more than ever.

Kate Tempest gets to the heart of the matter…

(HT to Si Smith for this…)

I am in awe of this performance on so many levels. Mostly however, I am reminded of how much we need our poets and prophets, but also how difficult it is for their voices to be heard above all the electronic noise.

Here is a thought. Each an every passing year for the past 10 years or so, we have stored more electronic images in that year than we have in previous history. Quantity has replaced…

Well, what has it replaced?

I simply am not sure any more. Which is why we need to hear the outside view. Step forward Kate;

Wilderness retreat 2016, Lunga…

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Last weekend saw us away out into the western sea once more, searching for a place to rest and find some big sky to shelter beneath. This year we headed to Lunga- a first for all of us. (There are two Lunga’s- we went to the less famous one, next to Scarba in the inner Hebrides.)

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What shall I say about last weekend? These things spring to mind;

  • My son Will came this time- it is hard to describe how lovely it is to adventure with your son and share with him the tradition of the island
  • We had lovely sunshine
  • We had a force 8 gale
  • it is impossible to sleep in a tent during a force 8 gale
  • Mark and Barry are rather astonishing chefs, cooking the poshest food on an open fire and in a home made oven
  • Andy has too many gadgets, but having said that, he puts them to brilliant use
  • Phil suffered most (collapsed tent, explosive digestive tract) but bore it all with a smile and good humour. Deep respect
  • Graham somehow combines deep suspicion of all things wild with a child like wonder for the same. His constant flow of puns and bad jokes are a phenomenon to behold
  • Tigger had more space to bounce in this year and still had energy left to look after everyone else. If there is ever a disaster zone that needs to be sorted, parachute him in
  • Paul made best use of the silence and isolation, but still managed to contribute richly to the gathering too
  • Crawford knows each animal by name- he speaks to them and they listen
  • Neil is the smartest man I know, but also the most selfless and lovely. He carves a mean spoon

 

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What a lovely bunch of blokes to spend time with. All of them are either long term friends or becoming so- and although there were others whose presence was missed, the chance to linger in conversation that varied from deepest secrets to the pleasure all men make out of crude toilet humour was exactly what I needed.

Thanks to you who traveled with me- I am truly grateful.

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As part of our fireside discussions this year I used the idea of Anam Cara, or ‘Soul Friendship’ in which we take time to share something of our spiritual journey, or what meaning we are currently finding. Our faith perspectives varied from professionals of the cloth, to those who have lost faith all together in the existence of God. I would have it no other way- the point of these trips for me is not to convince or convert, but to provide an open space for encounter, with your deep self and with that rich, half percieved transcendent other, whatever language you use to make sense of this.

The Anam Cara Questions we used are as follows;

  1. How is your soul?
  • What is draining your soul lately?
  • What is feeding your soul lately?
  1. How and where have you felt the presence of God?
  2. What has been your spiritual high point? Low Point?
  3. How have you been able to serve the elderly, the poor, the young, the needy, the rejected?
  4. What challenges are you facing in these coming days?

Andy ‘six cameras’ Prosser made this lovely video that tells the story of the weekend rather better than me;

Gospel songs…

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I grew up listening to a kind of music that almost certainly will not have any place in your collection. Even then it was not something I could ever share with my peers. They were listening to The Clash, the Sex Pistols and then all that New Romantic Gush. I on the other hand had no interest in the pop superstars that seemed to have such power over people around me. I could not tell you even now what the Bay City Rollers sound like. The music I was listening to then was primarily white gospel rock.

There I have made my uncool confession. Please do not judge me too harshly.

If you don’t know what white gospel rock was all about then I will give you a bit of history from a UK perspective. Of course, the Americans did it all bigger and better- it remains a mass market across the Atlantic, but it was the British kind that I listened to most.

Put simply, the music it was an attempt by people mostly on the fringes of organised Christianity to deliver a Christian message using culturally relevant language and styles of presentation. It was trying to ‘sell’ Jesus. It all kicked off (for me at least) around the 70s with folk-rock-for Jesus-groups like The Sheep and Malcolm and Alwyn (Alwyn went to School with my Mum.) Then there was the early folk recordings of Graham Kendrick (long before all the Shine Jesus Shine stuff). There were lots of others along the way; Dave Pope, the Dave Williamson band,  Bryn Howarth, Jesus punk from Moral Support, Heavy Rock from Stryper and a many others. A lot of this music was gathered together at the early Greenbelt Festivals, and this was the soundtrack of my early teens.

(There was another stream of this music too, in the form of contemporary worship music. This spawned a whole industry of its own, but this is another story…)

This music has remained more or less my guilty secret for lots of reasons. In part because this is not what might be described as ‘good’ music. It was never kissed with mass approval, and critics, if they noticed it, would savage it for its derivative amateurish efforts.

It also forms part of the story of my own dysfunction; growing up in the way that I did meant that I needed to lose myself in something, and often this was this music. I have grown beyond this now however- there is now lots of other music! However…

That music was always more than just Christian geeks trying to be cool. There was something else underneath it all. At the time, I might have used spiritualised language to describe it- as if the words and tones of the songs somehow contained something heavenly. Jesus was on lead guitar and the Holy Ghost could sure pump out a deep groove.

Perhaps, but what I understand most about that music now is that it stood for something. It had something to say that had heart, spirit and soul. It was only meaningful when it moved you. Beyond all the cheesy ‘Jesus saves’ kind of messages, these white boys (and they mostly where boys) were singing Gospel.

One of my mates, who often introduces me to new music, has often questioned whether there is any decent Christian rock music. I think he is missing the point though- it is not really about music, it is about soul, meaning, passion. These things may be subjective, but they are also universally recognisable.

I was reminded of this when watching a documentary of Mavis Staples, who grew up singing with her family in the Staples Singers. They sang their way through the protest movement alongside Martin Luther king, then became one of the first Gospel super groups in the USA. Commenting on the music that was made, someone said that “…the music was not worth a shit unless it made the people shout.” This music was measured by the visible effects it had on the audience; people would dance in the isles, faint in the Spirit, be carried out unconscious.

We in the UK did not go in for such displays of religious emotion on the whole, but still I get this. For music to matter, it has to mean something. It has to have something to say. It has to seek to connect with that part of me that I can only call soul. And the chances are that even now, the kind of music that is sure to split me wide open will be the kind that brings raw passion and spirituality together. In other words, Gospel music, in its broadest sense.

I may well have grown up listening to what was mere imitation, so here a slice of the real thing;