HT Jonny Baker
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HT Jonny Baker
Vodpod videos no longer available.
1st collector for come to us or go to them | pioneer.cms-uk.org
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We think we were the first to ever feel
.
The first to dream of higher places
The first to fall
The first to scream at sharp things
The first to feel that indescribable sting called love
The first to make music
The first to feel shame shrinking our callow souls
The first to seek the promised land
The first to eat from the tree
Called puberty
.
We were not
.
Long before light could be conjured by a switch
Men and women sat around fires and
Dreamed of starflight
They rose high above the flat old earth
Pregnant with new possibilities
Favour rested on their fields
Wilderness became their garden
.
But every generation grows and leaves home
Sometimes it seems that you and me
Have spent forever
Looking for a way
Back
Today I worked from home. There is sickness in the house- M and I seem to have picked up some bug or other, and as a result, sleep was largely absent last night.
So I toiled most of the day on some reports- including ‘equality impact assessments’ relating to proposed service redesigns. If that sounds boring- well perhaps, but it actually relates to the need to save money from already overstretched budgets so actually, it is an ominous kind of boredom. It relates to an activity that will potentially have impact on lives and livelihoods. So forgive me- this post is a wee bit of therapy for my soul.
Open all along the bottom of my screen however, mixed in with various documents I am trying to make sense of, are other kinds of writing.
I found myself flicking between two screens-
One contained a file into which I am typing dead, anodyne yet scary words into an predetermined format.
The other contained a poem I am working on.
The contrast is palpable, and painful at the same time. Like being caught between the body and the soul. This dual life that modernity has condemned us to.
Not that we have any kind of right to an easy life, full of creative choices and mystical mountaintops to be conjured at our own choosing. This kind of self-activating-self-fulfillment-self-absorption is equally repellant.
But how we all long for a life of simple integrity, where what we have is enough, and all the more so shared.
And how (today at least) I hate bureaucratic solutions to human problems- no matter how necessary.
Time for a poem I think. An old one, from ‘Listing’
Blessed are those who are poor in spirit…
Blessed are they in failure
Blessed are they in repeated defeatAnd blessed are they in
Every empty successBlessed are they when plans, laid out-
Are stolenAnd dreams are drained by
Middle age
Blessed are the wage slaves
And the mortgage makers
Blessed are those who keep on treadingThis treadmill
Blessed are they who have no hope
And for whom life is
Grey and formlessBlessed are the B-list
And the has-been’sBlessed are they at the end
Of all their copingFor here I am
And here I am building
My Kingdom
Lovely day today- blue skies, soaring temperatures (for us anyway- well into the twenties) and- CRICKET!
After a long start to the season during which just about every game has been rained off, today we had our single wicket competition. In case you are interested this works as a kind of tournament in which you compete against others in pairs- two overs each, with runs halved for a wicket. The rest of the team field.
And in the draw- I was paired first up with William!
Did I go easy? Could I have lived with a defeat by my 11 year old son- who will surely be giving me a thrashing soon enough?
Sorry- no I had him out 5 times in two overs. Then gave him a nice slow short one, which he put away for 4.
I was out in the quarter finals to someone bowling so slowly that it was just about impossible to get under the ball. Grrrrrr.
Here are the players- athletic honed bodies all.
We have been to a music festival today- The Garden Party at Kelburn country park, just down the coast at Largs. We were only there for the day- but it was a lovely atmosphere- lots of stages in the woods with music and arty things, as well as the parks usual attractions- the secret forest and adventure play parks.
And it is home to the worlds coolest castle- covered in graffiti art. It was meant to be temporary, as the planners will not let a castle be anythig other than boring.
Painting over this will be a shame though don’t you think? We have loads of normal castles in Scotland- we should have at least one like this-
I have just enjoyed a lovely evening with some of the Aoradh gang planning some activities we have up and coming- including a worship installation for Greenbelt Festival.
As part of this, we intend making a photo montage of images of people standing next to their front doors.
We live in a culture that has come to worship the housebrick. Lawrence Lewellyn-Bowen as the high priest! The idea we have is to turn upside down the house-worship idolatry thing- and re-imagine homes as places of hospitality, where we might seek to love and serve those outside.
So- we would love to be able to use a photo of YOU- stood next to your front door! We will use these images, along with ones that Andy and I will take up here, to be part of some projections, and also to make an image of a cross in which the different photos form pixels (like the famous Myra Hindley picture made out of childrens hand prints.)
You might like to see this as a kind of prayer/act of commitment.
If you would like to take part- send a photo of yourself (and your family if you like) stood next to your front door to me here- chris@goan.fsnet.co.uk
Here is the first one!
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1st collector for Perfected Intentions :: ALTER VIDEO MAGAZINE
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Saw this today- it made me smile. And think again about the people that influence me- and make me want to be better.
There are lots of other interesting video clips on the Alter Video Site too…
I have been thinking a little about a radio programme I listened to in the car yesterday- a discussion about the nature of our humanity on Start the Week on Radio 4.
The thrust of the argument came from Raymond Tallis– scientist, poet, philosopher, doctor and novelist (I wonder if he has time for origami too?) He is the author of this book–
Tallis’s argument goes something like this-
“To seek the fabric of contemporary humanity inside the brain is as mistaken as to try to detect the sound of a gust passing through a billion-leaved wood by applying a stethoscope to isolated seeds.” So argues the philosopher and clinical neuroscientist Raymond Tallis. He condemns the growing use of brain science to try to explain every aspect of human life. In his new book, Aping Mankind: Neuromania, Darwinitis and the Misrepresentation of Humanity, Tallis attacks the idea that we can understand humanity through ‘biologism’ – the belief that humans are essentially animals and can be explained in biological terms. Although our existence was brought about by evolution, Tallis asserts that humans are profoundly different from animals. Moreover, he claims that biologism and ‘neuromania’ are dangerous for society, fuelling a belief that there is no hope of moral progress for humans.
Tallis is an atheist, who has no interest in the supernatural- but does appear to be driven by an deep interest in the nature of humanity- and of an appreciation of art. He also seems to like a bit of controversy.
In thinking about the discussion the other day (but not through reading his book) I was thinking about this thing called ‘humanity’- who we are, and what we are capable of.
Are we special?
Because we can reason and emote and deceive- does this make us different from the other animals?
And is the greatest evidence for the superior nature of humanity to be found in our libraries or our great galleries, or in our nuclear warheads?
Did God make us a little lower than the angels, crowned with glory and honour, or is this just arrogance and self delusion?
And because we are able to even ask questions like this- does this make it so?
I believe in the possibility of humanity to rise- to become agents of truth mediated by grace. Our biochemistry seems to both confirm this and to conspire against it. We were made this way.
So although I want to agree with Doctor Tallis, I wonder whether it really matters- even if the ultimate human reality is biological, painted by electro-chemical dots and dashes, then is this all that we might ever hope for?
Or do we believe in the incarnation of spirit in body?
I keep hearing about how the country is in the middle of a drought- and that temperatures are soaring into the 30’s (degrees C that is.)
Well- not up here. We have had only a handful (4 or 5) of dry days since the beginning of May. Hopefully the bad weather has past now- we had a lovely day today- slight winds and sunshine, with a temp of warm 17 degrees.
As a sign of just how extreme it has been up here this year, here is a picture taken of some trees on the way into Lochgilphead-
No- autumn has not come early (I don’t think!) There are trees like this all over Argyll- particularly close to the sea. They fell victim to the violent storms that ripped in back at the beginning of May- when the tender new leaves simply could not cope with the strength and cold temperatures- resulting in ‘wind burn’.
We are told that the trees themselves will be fine. But we kind of know how they feel!
Apparently there is no such thing as bad weather- just inappropriate clothing (unless you are a tree.)
Argyll and Bute hospital is at the end of its useful life. Soon it will be ‘reprovisioned’.
Hanging in the old reception area is a painting of the hospital from what I imagine is about 100 years ago. It shows a rear view of the hospital, at a time when it was a permanent home for hundreds of patients. If they could only tell their stories. I assume the painting was done by a patient at the hospital- it has a naive feel about it that is very affecting.
I took my camera today and took some shots between meetings. I wanted to record something of a visual monument to one of the last of a breed of failed social/medical experiments known as the ‘asylum’. By any measure, it was a desperately failed experiment. In the name of humanitarian treatment of the mentally ill, we removed people from society, and warehoused them in institutions. Even when these were well run (and the stories of abuse that was handed out by some staff are appalling) then the end result was that people were lost. They stopped being brothers, sisters, children, bakers, lovers- and became- patients.
Here are some of the shots (click to enlarge.)