So, in the interests of the celebration of milestones- this blog has just passed 100,000 hits from the opening post back in June 2008.
Uncool of me to mention it, I know.
Thanks to those of you who visit and read what I write.
I blog as a kind of therapy- but to be honest, if it were not for you, I would probably not bother!
Katherina sent me this clip today of Elizabeth Gilbert’s TED speech. She had watched it and thought of me, which was really touching- so thanks Katherina!
She is the writer of ‘Eat Pray Love‘, a book that Michaela enjoyed so much that she has bought copies for lots of her friends. She speaks well.
Her subject material is familiar to anyone who lives a creative life. We pursue those tender transcendent moments, seeking to capture and preserve them in some kind of abstract bottle. But they are fleeting, and even if we manage somehow to inhabit them (or be inhabited by them) then what next? How can we live with the knowledge that it has been done, and may never be done again?
In my moments of blundering creativity, I still resonate with her description of being part of some strange collaboration between me and something other…
A conversation between myself and some external thing that is not quite me, and may originate in something that is wholly other.
Something that I understand as…
God.
A while ago, I wrote a long piece about my (rather negative!) reaction to the dominance of positive thinking within our culture, and perhaps more particularly within our faith based structures.
My friends will smile. Michaela (sometimes known as Polyanna) is almost universally optimistic in our family- a bit like a cross between Christopher Robin and Tigger, and me- well let’s just say I can be a bit of a donkey! But I suppose that is the point. We live in a life of variety and fluidity. Life has this way of throwing in the unexpected- to bring huge joy, sometimes followed by terrible pain and loss. Our roads are long and there is blessing and holiness in all these things- wherever the journey takes us.
We should beware those voices who push us towards a view of life, and an understanding of God, that is based on relentless positivism. There lies a danger that we live our lives towards a kind of wish-fulfilment- a seductive philosophy/theology of success and power which undermines the core messages of the Gospel… and is very much at odds with the way of Jesus.
Equally we should beware the voices of gloom who counsel us that all is lost and the end is nigh. Too many lives are walled in by defeat and damage done by life- and for these people, the way of Jesus is to seek to be a chain breaker and a freedom maker. Some of this might involve the shift of mind-set towards embracing the possibility of change- that old sleight of hand trick called Cognitive behavioural Therapy that I have practiced in my mental health career. The dominance of this approach to almost every human problem is not without good sound reason- even if the cynic in me might also point to the economics of providing short term, focused, ‘one-size-fits-all’ kind of interventions.
I had two reminders of the issues discussed above this week. Firstly, Jonny Baker quoted some lovely writing by Ann Morisy in a discussion paper about mission.
Ann’s take on mission embraces both powerlessness, the eschewing of power AND the power of positive thinking. She cites Seligman, that great doyen of the American ‘self help’ movement. As I read her article I found myself saying YES….yes…(but)…
The YES was to some of these things (my emphasis)-
When we muster an intention to do things like Jesus, i.e. to follow Jesus – even in the most modest of ways – we arrive at the portal into the economy of abundance, where virtuous processes flow and grace cascades; By doing it like Jesus (even just a tad, and even just with the intention – because there is so much grace around) we trigger virtuous processes that gain momentum.
This relevance and transformational power of faith make it urgent to articulate and promote the resources at the heart of faithfulness that lead to human flourishing. And we need others to help us pass the test of public reason – it is not sufficient for our theologians or evangelists to simply assert the virtuous processes that faith sets in train.
The other article that interested me was a post reviewing this book on the Emergent Village blog.
I have not read the book (but it is now on order.)
Root asks the questions as to what a church would look like if it were based upon a theology of despair. He starts with Luther’s theology of the Cross– and suggests the church needs to reclaim a crucial piece of Luther’s insight, which he frames something like this-
God brings life and possibility out of death and impossibility.
I am taken back again to the Cross. To the point of absolute brokenness, failure and despair. To the point where all dreams ended, all hopes vanished and all future was stolen.
In my working life, I have met many people who are in this place. If our call is simply to tell them than in three days, there will be resurrection, and all things will be made new, then we are in danger of dishonest dealing.
Something else that is crucial to me is the possibility that ‘God is to be found in the broken places. That he is made known in nothingness and death’.
Like the Navajo rug perfectly woven apart from one flaw, which allows entry of the Spirit.
And that healing comes most deeply not through a denial of pain- or it’s manipulation into insignificance- but rather through the transformation of discovering God within our difficulties and broken parts.
We have had a lovely weekend.
We set up Aoradh’s ‘Long now’ installation (developed for Greenbelt Festival last year) on Dunoon pier.
We spent Friday evening and Saturday morning setting up the lovely old Victorian room in a wooden building on the end of the pier. Considering we set the thing up in one hour for Greenbelt, this was luxury indeed!
The installation was then open to the public all day Saturday. One couple in particular will live in our memory. They were visiting Dunoon for the day to say goodbye to their grandmother, who was dying in the hospice. Whilst waiting for the ferry wondering what to do to pass an hour, they came into the worship space. And found themselves considering their life line, in the context of the certain knowledge that they would not see their grandmother again in this life. It is almost as if we set up this thing over the weekend just for them! May their times be blessed…
Today, we met for a meal in the holy space- then we sang some songs and Audrey led us through communion. I love these times… and as I have said before, the setting up and breaking down is worship for me.
So- some pictures…
We are just back from setting up the space on Dunoon pier for tomorrows Aoradh ‘Long now’ worship event…
It is always such a lovely place to be- an old wooden pavilion, spilling over with light (in fact often too much light, we have to mask off the windows.) Setting up and breaking down of the spaces we have set up there has always been a huge part of the pleasure of the thing. It is a time of companionship, laughter, shared meals and just the occasional moments of irritation as we all have our different understanding of how things should be done…
This is what the long now is about- if you are in the area, please come!
Welcome to ‘The long now’
You are invited to participate in a journey through time.
As you travel, you will make your own mark- your own timeline.
You will stop at stations symbolising-
- GEOGRAPHICAL time
- HISTORICAL time
- LIFE time…
Wherever we stand- whatever our perspective- we are standing in the NOW.
It is always NOW.
You will be invited to linger in this holy space that God gave us- NOW.
Finally you will be asked to think about the future;
the NOWs still being given to us, like gifts to unwrap.
In all these things
May we be learning to be grateful for the past
To participate graciously in the present
And to live in hope for the future.
Another interesting discussion on the radio this morning courtesy of Melvin Bragg’s programme ‘In Our Time’.
It centred around the work of Doctor, psychologist and ‘natural theologist’ William James– brother of novelist Henry James.
In 1901 William James began a series of lectures in Edinburgh, which came to be collected together as a book entitled ‘The Varieties of Religious Experience’.
It seems to me that James is of our time more than his. The modern obsession with logic and scientific reason- as the proper object and arbiter of all human endeavour- has been eroded by the events of the end of the 20th Century. Perhaps above all the fact that science has not delivered answers to the human condition, but rather has brought us huge environmental, moral and ethical problems that we all live in the shadow of- Ozone holes, radiation, global warming, the failure of free market economics etc.
In a world where the Zeitgeist was (and perhaps still is) overwhelmingly concerned with the rational and logical, even our approach to religion, James stood out as proposing a totally different way to understand faith. Rather than focus on doctrine and dogma, solidified and codified within religious texts, or in the institutions of faith, he suggested that only valid way to understand faith was in individual subjective experience. He went further and suggested that the faith experience was at the heart of what it meant to be human- and to understand this was to understand better who we are.
This led James to investigate mystical experiences, including by using hallucinogenic drugs. He was less interested in whether faith was ‘true’, or whether God existed, but more in the effect and usefulness that transcendent experience had on those who experienced it. This individualistic and self-centred version of religious seeking feels very post modern.
“Not God”, James states, “but life, more life, a larger, richer, more satisfying life, is, in the last analysis, the end of religion.”
James was also interested in how personality and ‘spiritual health’ interacted with our choice of faith (which resonates with this post) and he spent a lot of his time in the lectures discussing people who had undergone conversion experiences.
A couple of quotes from here–
James recognized a pattern in conversion experiences. It tended to happen when people were so low that they just ‘gave up’, the vacuum of hope providing space for revelation. The religious literature is full of stories along these lines, in which the constrictions and negative aspects of the ego are finally discarded; one begins to live only for others or for some higher goal. The compensation for becoming dependent upon God is a letting go of fear, and it is this that makes conversion such a liberating experience. It is the fearlessness and sense of absolute security in God that gives the convert their breathtaking motivation. An apparently perfectly normal person will give up everything and become a missionary in the jungle, or found a monastery in the desert, because of a belief. Yet this invisible thing will drastically change their outward circumstances, which led James to the unavoidable conclusion that for such a person, their conversion or spiritual experience was a fact, indeed more real than anything which had so far happened in their lives.
James acknowledged that science would be forever trying to blow away the obscuring mists of religion, but in doing so it would totally miss the point. Science could only ever talk in the abstract, but personal spiritual experience was the more powerful precisely because it is subjective. Spirituality is about the emotions and the imagination and the soul – and to a human being these are everything.
I find myself both in sympathy and at odds with James- in much the same way as I am with the pluralist times we live in. For him, religion was about personal transformative experience, a little akin to a piece of remarkable cognitive behavioural therapy. God became portable and useful- perhaps even something to be cherished as a way of giving life direction and meaning.
But I have this feeling that the Lion of Judah is no tame lion…
I saw this clip recently, from Yvonne Lyon– who is a wonderful singer and a lovely person who comes from just over the water from us. Thought it was time to give her a shout…
She and her husband David will be at Solas if you want to hear more…
Vodpod videos no longer available.
It is not too late to get tickets to SOLAS.
Solas is a Scottish faith and arts based festival which will be taking place over the 25th-27th of June, at Whiston, near Biggar. If you can support this festival- please do, as it is something that could be really important for the future landscape of faith in this country.
This is the first of what is hoped to be a a series of such festivals- and owes its origin to Greenbelt Festival in England. Here is the full programme-
I have been doing a lot of ‘wild’ camping over the last few years- often in places where poo-ing in porcelain is just not an option.
The rudiments of alfresco defecation have been dealt with in great detail in this book, so I will not revisit them here- much (I am sure) to your blessed relief.
However, I saw this product today, and it made me laugh…
The strongest, lightweight, compact camp trowel in the world. Use it to deposit solid human waste in a hole dug 10-15 cm deep and at least 100 metres from water-bodies, camp, tracks, and watercourses. Being collapsible and lightweight, you can carry it anywhere and it even comes with a its own sack. It’s cleverly designed handle can store a gas lighter – or more realistically toilet paper. So don’t be shy, poo with pride!
Surely litigation is inevitable? Perhaps they should have a strapline like this-
Suitable alternative toilet related captions gratefully accepted!
(I would like to make it clear that in no way does thisfragiletent endorse this product- should Apple decide to send their lawyers in my direction!)
We have just had a lovely weekend.
In many ways an ORDINARY weekend- and none the less lovely for that.
We had a lovely barbecue with friends on Saturday night to celebrate Michaela’s other birthday-
My brother Steve, his wife Kate and wee Jamie stayed over night, and we spent most of the day in Benmore Gardens, where they were having their open day- craft stalls, plants, music- and lots of sunshine.
We set up a game of cricket with some sticks as stumps and a piece of log as a bat. Lovely.
In the exhibition area in Benmore, there is an exhibition by the late Tim Stead, sculptor/carver/furniture maker/poet.
He died in 2000 aged only 48 after a long illness. This from his obituary in the Guardian
Stead made furniture for galleries, castles, cathedrals and even for Pope John Paul II for his visit to Murrayfield in 1981, yet it was the open intuitive, untutored response of ordinary people that most nourished him. People delighted in his work’s warm honesty and wanted to live with it.
That word ‘ordinary’ again. There is little that is ordinary about the wonderful pieces that Stead made. All that burr elm with its twisted and painful complexity- polished and oiled into something incredibly beautiful. joints and hinges engineered out of a knuckle of wood. Chairs fashioned out of staves of wood to look like the backbone of some long distant creature. But still it is all functional- utilitarian- ordinary.
Like today.
this fragile tent 