Many years ago as an undergraduate, I studied politics.
It was the time of the labour split, and the formation of a new party called the SDP– later to merge with the Liberal party. The SDP won a few by-elections, and I remember writing essays on how this signalled a real change in British politics- a move to a three party race, and possibly the inevitable move towards proportional representation in our voting system.
Well perhaps I was premature. But the debates then are being aired again…
There was an interesting article in the Guardian discussing the Israeli system of government- with successive hung parliaments making decisive policy making next to impossible, and political alliances and wheeler-dealing the norm.
But what do I know? It would certainly make life interesting!
So, given my obvious lack of insight and expertise I thought it would be fun to make a few predictions…
We are going to have a minority Conservative government held together by a vague alliance with the Lib Dems. The alliance will be bought by the promise of a referendum on proportional representation.
This will create turmoil in the Tory party, as PR is unlikely to serve them well (in terms of seats.)
Actual reform of the voting system will not happen for a long time, and when it does, it will be a fudge that goes only some of the way, but perhaps only for the House of Lords.
The current hung parliament will achieve very little, and there will be another election in 2 years- whenever the Conservatives think that they have a chance of winning an absolute majority.
For a while, my passion for a kind of politics that fought for liberty and equality was indistinguishable from my faith. Both drove me in the same direction.
I believed in a God who was more interested in the gutters of society than the doings of the well to do and famous. I became convinced that Jesus was a revolutionary, sent to call us to a way of life that promoted the last to be first and the first to be last. My heros were people who sought to live out this radical path- even where I failed.
And you know what- I still believe those things.
In the 80’s and 90’s the only party that seemed to embrace some of these views was the Labour party. It was a party in turmoil- arguing over it’s very soul. But still deep in it’s DNA was this passion for social justice and compassion for the weak and poor.
The years of power and compromise have soured so much of this image. The dispicable war in Iraq, the aparent surrender to the ‘free market’, the loss of identity in a changing world. The accommodation with the worst elements of the press on immigration.
Like many of us, I have been struggling to decide how to vote in this coming election. Could I vote for the Liberal Democrats, who are saying some things that I like? Or was there anything about the leadership of Brown that I could still believe in and celebrate?
I am not swayed by the leadership debates. They are televisual circuses that might yet lead us down a kind of politics that has dominated the USA. Beware voting for a well polished public image. We vote for policies and principles, not personalities.
I heard a story about Atlee, the labour leader who did so much to introduce the Welfare State and National Health Service. Someone quipped that an empty taxi arrived at Westminster, and he got out. But his legacy is with us still.
But still, my trust in Brown had reached a low ebb. He seemed so shambolic, so defeated.
I know a lot of men like Brown up here in Scotland. Sober, dignified, private men, who suffer no fools nor enjoy the social life. Taciturn and truculent. Men who believe still in public service.
I watched this (Thanks Jonny) and saw for the first time in this election something that really stirred me.
Today Michaela went to see her consultant. And he told her that he did not want to see her again.
After 26 years!
Let me explain…
Michaela was diagnosed with Ulcerative Colitis as a teenager- a disease resulting in ulceration of the colon, leading to severe pain, anemia, loss of blood, weight loss and lots of other things. The impact of an illness like this on a young person also resulted in all sorts of tough psychological challenges.
The illness typically goes from flare ups (leading to hospital admission, or total bed rest) then periods of relative stability. Treatment is with steroids, or imuno-suppressant medication. In Michaela’s case, this meant never feeling fully well, always lacking energy and sometimes being dangerously ill. She coped well though- most people never knew she was ill- and she was careful to avoid letting it dominate her life fully.
But she was always ill- I was looking at some old photo’s the other day taken when William was a baby. There was Michaela, like a beautiful doll. Skinny and ghost-white with anemia. How she coped with looking after a little baby I am not sure.
I got distracted- looking at all these old photographs… memories…
But anyway- on with the story. We moved to Scotland in 2002, and since then, Michaela has been well. Not just better than she was- but completely symptom free.
The doctors have been doubtful and a little puzzled, constantly asking her in for more tests, which she has increasingly resisted.
Whatever the reason, we are grateful.
And it gives me a chance to celebrate the beautiful woman (inside and out) that married me by digging out some photos.
A wonderful couple of days, with showers giving way to sunshine and deep blue skies.
A camp site at the head of a bay ringed with cliffs and high hills, in direct line with the famous Corryvrecken whirlpool (the third largest in the world) which could be heard roaring at low tide from over a mile away.
Wildlife that you had to see to believe- sea eagles, wild goats, deer, cuckoos, seals, otters (and unfortunately, lots of ticks!)
Walks that scrambled from beach, shore caves and natural arches up to lofty vantage points where the views took in the whole world.
Good company, good conversation and camp fires to share.
Jura Whisky (Thanks Terry and Bonny!)
Times to pray, reflect, discuss- to recalibrate and allow something of God to seep into the soul.
If it is like this in heaven I’ll not be disapointed (perhaps minus the Ticks.)
So- some photos. Click to enlarge- it is worth it.
I am not quite sure what we will find when we land on Jura.
Neither am I quite sure how the whole social thing will work out- we are forming a temporary community of people who mostly do not know each other.
We are hoping to spend time seeking after God, but he can be so mysterious can’t he?
What I am reminded of is that old Celtic monastic tradition of peregrinatio, or ‘Holy voyaging’, which in practice meant to get in a boat, and simply to set sail. No destination planned, simply trusting to tide, wind and God. The destination of such a voyage was not geographical, butrather spiritual. The goal was to arrive at ones ‘place of resurrection.’ Arriving at journey’s end inevitably meant an actual physical place also however- and it is these places that still hold the memory of these voyages all over Argyll- in the place names, the folk lore, and also in the marks and mounds in the earth out on exposed headlands, or on tiny islands.
So, in anticipation of our own homecoming, I am going to re-post a poem that I wrote a few years ago, dedicated to that great voyaging monk, St Brendan–
Can you believe it- we have had another small crisis in our family!
Michaela hit a deer on the road next to Loch Eck the other day. The poor little thing was startled by the head lights and tried to get over the road back into the woods. Michaela had no chance to avoid it, as she was driving at over 50 MPH. It must have died instantly, flying up into the windscreen on Emily’s side.
It was only a small deer but what a lot of damage! Bonnet, grille, wing, subframe, radiator. Given the age of the car it is almost certainly a write-off.
But neither Michaela nor Emily were hurt, beyond a few bruises. It could have been so much worse- for us anyway. Not for the deer.
A few of us are heading out to do some wild camping on the west coast of Jura this coming weekend.
We try to use it as a ‘retreat’- and share some deliberately spiritual activities, as well as a lot of laughter and the odd campfire…
I chartered a couple of boat runs to take us out there from Ardfern- the boat will go out through the amazing Gulf of Correvrecken with it’s world famous whirlpool, and drop us off on the wild north west of Jura. This is utterly wild country, no roads, few paths. Lots of wildlife.
Because (as always happens with these trips it seems) a few people have had to drop out at the last moment, we are down to around 11 people, and this means that we only need one boat run.
If anyone else still fancies coming along- it is not too late! It would be a shame not to use the boat we have booked…
Regular readers of this blog will know my interest in reading some of the ancient poets of the middle east. One name often stands above all the rest- Jelluladin Rumi. Rumi reminds me that we Christians would do well to be a lot more careful about our instant rejection and condemnation of anything that comes from a different faith perspective.
(Incidentally, lest we stay all highbrow about Rumi- some of the subjects he wrote poems about were, shall we say, rather fruity!)
An old friend sent me this quote today- which was so good I will repost it here… He had seen it on Maggi Dawns blog.
Those who don’t feel this love pulling them like a river
Those who don’t drink dawn like a cup of spring water
or take sunset like supper
Those who don’t want to change
let them sleep…
This Love is beyond the study of theology that old trickery and hypocrisy
If you want to improve your mind that way sleep on.
I’ve given up on my brain I’ve torn the cloth to shreds and thrown it away.
If you’re not completely naked wrap your beautiful robe of words
around you and sleep.
this fragile tent 