From lilwatchergirl, who tagged me some time ago...
Seven facts about myself
1. I've only just learned how to use html to underline what I'm writing. I had a grandfather who liked to underline everything he wrote.
2. That was the same grandfather who once told me that Arthur Scargill was the most evil man who had ever lived. Until an extremely amused Sunday School teacher explained otherwise, I held an elaborate and sophisticated theology of Arthur Scargill as Satan incarnate, exactly in the same was as Jesus is God incarnate.
3. Talking of miner's strikes and suchlike, I think Billy Elliot was a lovely film. There's still a weeeeeny little bit of me that would have loved to be a ballerina too...
4. ... and it's fortunate that it's only such an ickle bit of me that does, because I cannot dance at all, and don't particularly even enjoy trying...
5. ... which is unfortunate because He To Whom I'm About to Be Married is an exceptionally good dancer. If he didn't come from a place even more macho than 80s Easington, he may well have ended up in a tutu...
6. ... but that's enough about that because my mum may be reading this. She's one of only four people who know "Grace" in real life.
7. I sometimes find real life utterly overwhelming.
Monday, 14 January 2008
Tuesday, 8 January 2008
thought for the day
The legally most straightforward places* for Grace and Fiance to elope for a Christian wedding ceremony leading to a UK-recognised marriage would seem to be South Africa and Thailand.
*This does not include the State of Nevada (ie Las Vegas). Resorting to a marriage officiated by Elvis would make Grace weep, and that would not be straightforward.
*This does not include the State of Nevada (ie Las Vegas). Resorting to a marriage officiated by Elvis would make Grace weep, and that would not be straightforward.
Thursday, 3 January 2008
call yourself a Christian?
I woke up this morning to various graphic descriptions of the Eldoret church massacre in Eastern Kenya. I was there, briefly, in the mid 90s, and my memory of Eldoret was of utter PraisetheLordsville, with every other building a place of Christian worship. I visited Rwanda soon afterwards, soon enough still after the genocide that, when I visited one of the churches in which hundreds there were massacred, they were still sorting the dismembered body parts into neat rows... as though neat rows of dismembered body parts would somehow make up for what they'd done. And I felt this morning as I felt in Rwanda back then: how can people who call themselves Christians and claim a personal relationship with Christ perpetrate such evil?
And then, later on in the morning, I utterly blew up at three of my very closest friends. Certainly, I didn't take pangas to their skulls or burn their babies alive, but I did most definitely say things they found very hurtful that will change our friendships forever and I cannot pretend otherwise. And I call myself a Christian, too.
Theologically, intellectually, I struggle with the concept of Original Sin as a premise on which to base the Christian message. Intuitively, though, instinctively, I can feel such evil inside of me...
And then, later on in the morning, I utterly blew up at three of my very closest friends. Certainly, I didn't take pangas to their skulls or burn their babies alive, but I did most definitely say things they found very hurtful that will change our friendships forever and I cannot pretend otherwise. And I call myself a Christian, too.
Theologically, intellectually, I struggle with the concept of Original Sin as a premise on which to base the Christian message. Intuitively, though, instinctively, I can feel such evil inside of me...
Wednesday, 2 January 2008
Happy New Year: "Women who stop church 'put health at risk'"
I've just found this article in The Telegraph. Or, to be honest, on MadPriest's blog. I'm sure there must be a pithy and witty gender-related comment or some reference to Foucault to make on this, but I'm not sure what it is. I just know that week I thought I was going to have to leave my church, I felt exceedingly lonely and drank ridiculous amounts of white wine...
"Researchers say women who let their religious activity lapse are three times more likely to suffer from anxiety or become dependent on alcohol than those who keep their faith active.
However, men who took part in the study and who became less religious in adulthood did not appear to suffer any increase in mental health problems.
Dr Joanna Maselko, the lead study author, of Temple University, Philadelphia, said women suffered more from losing interest in religion because they were more likely to lose friends and social contacts as a result.
Dr Maselko said: "Women are more integrated into the social networks of their religious communities.
"When they stop attending religious services, they lose access to that network and all its potential benefits. Men may not be as integrated into the religious community and so may not suffer the negative consequences of leaving."
Dr Maselko, whose research is published in Social Psychiatry and Psychiatric Epidemiology, questioned 718 adults.
Among the women, seven per cent of those who had always been active in their religion had symptoms of anxiety disorder.
However, 21 per cent of those who were less religiously active than in their childhood suffered symptoms of anxiety.
They were also three times more likely to have had drinking problems.
This effect was not seen in the men. The survey found male participants who stopped being religiously active were less likely to suffer from serious depression than those who still went to church.
Dr Maselko said: " A person's current level of spirituality is only part of the story. We can only get a better understanding of the relationship between health and spirituality by knowing a person's religious history."
"Researchers say women who let their religious activity lapse are three times more likely to suffer from anxiety or become dependent on alcohol than those who keep their faith active.
However, men who took part in the study and who became less religious in adulthood did not appear to suffer any increase in mental health problems.
Dr Joanna Maselko, the lead study author, of Temple University, Philadelphia, said women suffered more from losing interest in religion because they were more likely to lose friends and social contacts as a result.
Dr Maselko said: "Women are more integrated into the social networks of their religious communities.
"When they stop attending religious services, they lose access to that network and all its potential benefits. Men may not be as integrated into the religious community and so may not suffer the negative consequences of leaving."
Dr Maselko, whose research is published in Social Psychiatry and Psychiatric Epidemiology, questioned 718 adults.
Among the women, seven per cent of those who had always been active in their religion had symptoms of anxiety disorder.
However, 21 per cent of those who were less religiously active than in their childhood suffered symptoms of anxiety.
They were also three times more likely to have had drinking problems.
This effect was not seen in the men. The survey found male participants who stopped being religiously active were less likely to suffer from serious depression than those who still went to church.
Dr Maselko said: " A person's current level of spirituality is only part of the story. We can only get a better understanding of the relationship between health and spirituality by knowing a person's religious history."
Monday, 31 December 2007
https://www.careersfordisaffectedevangelicals.org.uk
Thanks for all the responses to my previous post. However, a determined commitment to a New Religious Direction (self-created Religious Movement or otherwise) will only happen if I leave my current job. And given that I’ve got a wedding impending and a cat to feed, leaving my current job will only happen if I find another one.
I think I may therefore want or need a new job...
I don’t enjoy job-hunting, perhaps because I'm fairly dismal at it. I utterly lack whatever cognitive/social skill it is (perception? intuition? social niceties?) to ever discern what the person reading the application wants to hear. I can (and usually do) fall into any or all of the following traps
1. Ending up sounding pathetically and frantically desperate for their job. I've landed myself in some farcically unsuitable and extremely short-lived employment situations this way. I would provide some anecdotes but I don't want to Out myself on this blog, yet.
2. Trying to be clever but instead coming accross as a pretentious/arrogant prat/twat. My classic was the treatise I produced (some time ago, I hasten to add) by way of application to a local GP practice advertising for a receptionist in which I spend half a page pontificating on the need for a thorough reorganisation of the local primary care trust in order to maximise the effeciency of the GP receptionist. I heard from a friend who worked there as a nurse that the practice meeting "wetted themselves laughing" at my application. At least they didn't invite me for an interview so they could all wet themselves in front of me. At least.
3. Providing them with Too Much Information. I was once told, at an interview, "of all the 27 applicants for this job, you were the only one who filled in the what-are-your-greatest-weaknesses-question with any honesty at all". I didn't get the job, suffice to say.
I have, therefore, booked myself an appointment with the local Graduate Careers Service. But I'm honestly no longer sure what it is I want.
I think I may therefore want or need a new job...
I don’t enjoy job-hunting, perhaps because I'm fairly dismal at it. I utterly lack whatever cognitive/social skill it is (perception? intuition? social niceties?) to ever discern what the person reading the application wants to hear. I can (and usually do) fall into any or all of the following traps
1. Ending up sounding pathetically and frantically desperate for their job. I've landed myself in some farcically unsuitable and extremely short-lived employment situations this way. I would provide some anecdotes but I don't want to Out myself on this blog, yet.
2. Trying to be clever but instead coming accross as a pretentious/arrogant prat/twat. My classic was the treatise I produced (some time ago, I hasten to add) by way of application to a local GP practice advertising for a receptionist in which I spend half a page pontificating on the need for a thorough reorganisation of the local primary care trust in order to maximise the effeciency of the GP receptionist. I heard from a friend who worked there as a nurse that the practice meeting "wetted themselves laughing" at my application. At least they didn't invite me for an interview so they could all wet themselves in front of me. At least.
3. Providing them with Too Much Information. I was once told, at an interview, "of all the 27 applicants for this job, you were the only one who filled in the what-are-your-greatest-weaknesses-question with any honesty at all". I didn't get the job, suffice to say.
I have, therefore, booked myself an appointment with the local Graduate Careers Service. But I'm honestly no longer sure what it is I want.
Friday, 28 December 2007
In which Grace decides to form a New Religious Movement
After a lovely few days with family and friends and without all the hassles and politics and religious authority-play of work, I have suddenly realised: it doesn't need to be this painful. I need a New Religious (or Spiritual or Faith) Possibility... soon. But what?
Grace's Possible New Religious Possibilities
Quaking
The whole concept of Quakerism intrigues me. I don't think I understand it entirely, but I love the idea of a God who resides within everyone. All inclusive, like.
Bog-standard Church of England-ness
Thursday, 13 December 2007
guilt
I'm sitting here gulping as I click through my online banking record of just how much I've spent this evening. It's not that I don't love and value everyone for whom I've bought a Christmas present, not that I consider them undeserving, nor do I begrudge any of them the amount I've spent. I just feel guilty. Guilty about having the money to spend and guilty for not spending an equal amount on gifts for the destitute and starving.
I live in a neighbourhood and a community in which people who are deprived and destitute - and sometimes even starving - surround me constantly. In my experience, it is a poverty more shocking and complex than any poverty I've witnessed elsewhere in the world. People are poor not simply because they don't have enough money (if that were the case, the advent of tax credits would have transformed the area) and nor merely because they smoke or procreate too much (if that were the case, the local health centre offering smoking cessation and family planning would be busy) but for many, many reasons.
People are poor because they're being threatened by Provvie loan sharks who bullied them in 900% APR loans to buy presents for the children they had before they even had the chance to consider the idea that the could finish school which was before they were on the drink but when he was already beating us black and blue and when you feel like that you need a flat screen plasma telly on hire purchase, even though you live eight of you in a one-bed flat and you've got rising damp on the second floor and you can't always afford to put money on the electric and even though Miss did teach us at school it's cheaper to pay the electric by direct debit you're araid to even try to get a bank account whe you're in debt like this cos they'll look at you funny in the bank cos they'll know which part of town you're from and anyway Mum lived here like this, and Gran and Great Grandma too so when you live here nothing changes.
That was a long and incoherent sentence, I'm aware. Being born into this community must feel, I imagine, a somewhat similar sentence.
The community centre around the corner from me is asking for contributions of shampoo, safety razors (safetyonlyplease), warm socks and nail varnish to distribute. Next time I'm out shopping, I'll pop into Superdrug.
I live in a neighbourhood and a community in which people who are deprived and destitute - and sometimes even starving - surround me constantly. In my experience, it is a poverty more shocking and complex than any poverty I've witnessed elsewhere in the world. People are poor not simply because they don't have enough money (if that were the case, the advent of tax credits would have transformed the area) and nor merely because they smoke or procreate too much (if that were the case, the local health centre offering smoking cessation and family planning would be busy) but for many, many reasons.
People are poor because they're being threatened by Provvie loan sharks who bullied them in 900% APR loans to buy presents for the children they had before they even had the chance to consider the idea that the could finish school which was before they were on the drink but when he was already beating us black and blue and when you feel like that you need a flat screen plasma telly on hire purchase, even though you live eight of you in a one-bed flat and you've got rising damp on the second floor and you can't always afford to put money on the electric and even though Miss did teach us at school it's cheaper to pay the electric by direct debit you're araid to even try to get a bank account whe you're in debt like this cos they'll look at you funny in the bank cos they'll know which part of town you're from and anyway Mum lived here like this, and Gran and Great Grandma too so when you live here nothing changes.
That was a long and incoherent sentence, I'm aware. Being born into this community must feel, I imagine, a somewhat similar sentence.
The community centre around the corner from me is asking for contributions of shampoo, safety razors (safetyonlyplease), warm socks and nail varnish to distribute. Next time I'm out shopping, I'll pop into Superdrug.
Monday, 10 December 2007
a day when people seemed unkind
Nobody was speaking to me at work today. To be fair to them, there may arguably be a reason behind their collective incandescence with me [Solicitor: stop being so magnanimous] but that reason will have to wait until I'm actually sacked or else Someone may identify from this blog.
Half way through the afternoon, for the first time ever, I walked out. I walked out, leaving Everyone to assume that Someone had given me permission to depart early. If I'm asked to explain myself tomorrow, I'm sure I could plead female problems that I couldn't at the time disclose because there was a male visitor in the office. Equally, I could probably get away with telling them I'd had a panic attack. But I wouldn't want to be dishonest.
I came home and started making fresh, organic lentil burgers for the Bible study group this evening. It's a group I don't often have the energy for telling people at work that I go to because some of its members are Unsaved and they even like Fiance. I don't want to be told that I go there merely to feel comforted or un-got-at by being in a room where others have Unsaved partners too.
I go there because I experience God there, and community, too.
I think I've done very much more for God through making those burgers than I did in the office earlier. If Someone at work calls me to account for leaving early this afternoon, I will explain to them exactly that. They can have as many hours in lieu from me as they want. For the joy of such perfectly-crafted and tasty burgers that those who love me will love, I'd do anything.
Half way through the afternoon, for the first time ever, I walked out. I walked out, leaving Everyone to assume that Someone had given me permission to depart early. If I'm asked to explain myself tomorrow, I'm sure I could plead female problems that I couldn't at the time disclose because there was a male visitor in the office. Equally, I could probably get away with telling them I'd had a panic attack. But I wouldn't want to be dishonest.
I came home and started making fresh, organic lentil burgers for the Bible study group this evening. It's a group I don't often have the energy for telling people at work that I go to because some of its members are Unsaved and they even like Fiance. I don't want to be told that I go there merely to feel comforted or un-got-at by being in a room where others have Unsaved partners too.
I go there because I experience God there, and community, too.
I think I've done very much more for God through making those burgers than I did in the office earlier. If Someone at work calls me to account for leaving early this afternoon, I will explain to them exactly that. They can have as many hours in lieu from me as they want. For the joy of such perfectly-crafted and tasty burgers that those who love me will love, I'd do anything.
Sunday, 9 December 2007
a night when God seemed good
I received the following text
"hi grace herd u culdnt get tckts 4 messiah 2nite - i got spare!!! do u want????"
And so, I ended up going to an absolutely stunning performance of Handel's Messiah with two of my soon-to-be Bridesmaids.
Last time I heard the Messiah live, a few days before Christmas '05, one of those Bridesmaids was in hospital with potentially only weeks to live. I remember sitting there, praying throughout the performance that she'd live.
And she did. She sat there this evening beside me mouthing every word of the performance. Next year, next Christmas, she should be in that choir.
After weeks of frustration, tension and blinding annoyance, tonight God seemed extremely kind.
"hi grace herd u culdnt get tckts 4 messiah 2nite - i got spare!!! do u want????"
And so, I ended up going to an absolutely stunning performance of Handel's Messiah with two of my soon-to-be Bridesmaids.
Last time I heard the Messiah live, a few days before Christmas '05, one of those Bridesmaids was in hospital with potentially only weeks to live. I remember sitting there, praying throughout the performance that she'd live.
And she did. She sat there this evening beside me mouthing every word of the performance. Next year, next Christmas, she should be in that choir.
After weeks of frustration, tension and blinding annoyance, tonight God seemed extremely kind.
Saturday, 1 December 2007
The dangers of rioting choirboys
Fiance and I have found a very exceptional Christian minister (henceforth to be known as VECM) who is willing to bend all of his denominational rules to their very limit in undertaking to conduct our marriage service.
We met with him last night to discuss the details. Various questions of ahem style arose. In the interests of (a rapidely diminishing) sense of magnanimity and of conciliatory hopes on my part, I'm trying to persuade my Place of Current Employment that one of their representatives may like use of a microphone through which to mutter through gritted teeth the odd prayer for Fiance and I. VECM is concerned that my Place of Current Employment may take ahem the liberty of an impromptu half hour sermon-in-prayer, as such types are allegedly prone to do. His final comment being 'well Grace, I can only warn you, our choirboys have been known to start to riot if the prayers carry on too long'.
I wish, I wish that I could instill such fear in my Place of Current Employment. I wish that I could threaten such subversive action and be received with anything other than threats.
We met with him last night to discuss the details. Various questions of ahem style arose. In the interests of (a rapidely diminishing) sense of magnanimity and of conciliatory hopes on my part, I'm trying to persuade my Place of Current Employment that one of their representatives may like use of a microphone through which to mutter through gritted teeth the odd prayer for Fiance and I. VECM is concerned that my Place of Current Employment may take ahem the liberty of an impromptu half hour sermon-in-prayer, as such types are allegedly prone to do. His final comment being 'well Grace, I can only warn you, our choirboys have been known to start to riot if the prayers carry on too long'.
I wish, I wish that I could instill such fear in my Place of Current Employment. I wish that I could threaten such subversive action and be received with anything other than threats.
Thursday, 29 November 2007
magnanimous.
Another day, another meeting, another crisis.
The very nice solicitor I saw last night tells me that, in all my dealings with them, I've been "hugely magnanimous". I think Jesus would have been, too.
Jesus, however, could never have used the first century Palestinian legal system to fight the religious authorities he clashed with. No solicitor would ever have represented his case of vicitimisation for having claimed to be the Messiah.
I don't want money or publicity, nor do I feel the need for any public vindication, nor am I naive enough to believe that a tribunal claim would prevent them from doing to another employee exactly what they're done to me. All I want is for them to think. To think about the love they preach and to comtemplate how their employment practice might relate to that. So the question for me, in considering whether to take legal action against them is straightforward: which course of action will better help them to ponder what they're doing.
I spent the night with Fiance and couldn't sleep. I ended up downstairs watching various Benn Hinn miracles crusades dubbed into Yoruba (much flinging about of crutch, which says essentially the same thing in any language) and an un-named Muslim televangelist implore me to give my credit card details to Fatah. At about 4am I rang into one of the Properity Prayer lines and asked the operator to believe God with me for twenty grand for my "ministry". Not that money would sort my job out, of course, but it certainly wouldn't be any harm. The man ended the conversation by assuring me that a twenty-five grand cheque will be in my office pigeon hole tomorrow. If he's right, I will publish a written retraction of all my cynicism and apply to Rhema college.
If I'm learning anything whatsoever about this, it's that what the Christian message starts, ends and utterly depends on and stands or fails upon... it's love. Unless Christians can treat each other properly (or rather, unless Christians can be honest about how hard it is to treat one another properly) they might as well not bother invoking the name of Jesus.
The very nice solicitor I saw last night tells me that, in all my dealings with them, I've been "hugely magnanimous". I think Jesus would have been, too.
Jesus, however, could never have used the first century Palestinian legal system to fight the religious authorities he clashed with. No solicitor would ever have represented his case of vicitimisation for having claimed to be the Messiah.
I don't want money or publicity, nor do I feel the need for any public vindication, nor am I naive enough to believe that a tribunal claim would prevent them from doing to another employee exactly what they're done to me. All I want is for them to think. To think about the love they preach and to comtemplate how their employment practice might relate to that. So the question for me, in considering whether to take legal action against them is straightforward: which course of action will better help them to ponder what they're doing.
I spent the night with Fiance and couldn't sleep. I ended up downstairs watching various Benn Hinn miracles crusades dubbed into Yoruba (much flinging about of crutch, which says essentially the same thing in any language) and an un-named Muslim televangelist implore me to give my credit card details to Fatah. At about 4am I rang into one of the Properity Prayer lines and asked the operator to believe God with me for twenty grand for my "ministry". Not that money would sort my job out, of course, but it certainly wouldn't be any harm. The man ended the conversation by assuring me that a twenty-five grand cheque will be in my office pigeon hole tomorrow. If he's right, I will publish a written retraction of all my cynicism and apply to Rhema college.
If I'm learning anything whatsoever about this, it's that what the Christian message starts, ends and utterly depends on and stands or fails upon... it's love. Unless Christians can treat each other properly (or rather, unless Christians can be honest about how hard it is to treat one another properly) they might as well not bother invoking the name of Jesus.
Wednesday, 21 November 2007
a prayer I found, which sums everything up
By Thomas Merton, quoted by Bishop John Liscomb, quoted by MadPriest
"My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone."
"My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone."
Tuesday, 20 November 2007
On a lighter note
Grace's own Equalities Challenge
Four bridesmaids. Representing between them the beautiful diversity of the female form, each one gloriously unique in colour, shape, size, age and fashion sense.
What are they going to wear? I attempted
a) hiring a dressmaker (none of those I emailed/left messages for have got back to me - I think I must have scared them all off.)
b) buying the same outfit off the peg for each one in the relevant size (I took Bridemaid 1 to John Lewis to try this out, using myself as a comparator. Whenever anything suited either of us, the other ended up looking somewhat, ahem, unfortunate. And Bridesmaid 1 and I are virtually the same colour, shape and size as one another, too.)
c) ebay (I found an outfit that I thought would ideally suit Bridesmaid 1 - who was delighted. I then got a bit excited and found a wonderful dress for Bridesmaid 2. It was 3 minutes until the auction ended and I bought it for a tenner. It's rather too small for her - well, at least I didn't overestimate her size - and she's now somewhat unimpressed with me. Ooooops.)
I'm now contemplating a possible d), which would involve writing each bridesmaid a cheque and telling them to dress themselves in whatever they want. When I put this to Bridesmaid 3 she replied that, given the choice, she'd dress herself entirely in Goretex and hi-performance fleece but that I'd have to accept that because she has a disability which makes her feel the cold, and claims middle-rate DLA for it, too.
And we all laughed.
Four bridesmaids. Representing between them the beautiful diversity of the female form, each one gloriously unique in colour, shape, size, age and fashion sense.
What are they going to wear? I attempted
a) hiring a dressmaker (none of those I emailed/left messages for have got back to me - I think I must have scared them all off.)
b) buying the same outfit off the peg for each one in the relevant size (I took Bridemaid 1 to John Lewis to try this out, using myself as a comparator. Whenever anything suited either of us, the other ended up looking somewhat, ahem, unfortunate. And Bridesmaid 1 and I are virtually the same colour, shape and size as one another, too.)
c) ebay (I found an outfit that I thought would ideally suit Bridesmaid 1 - who was delighted. I then got a bit excited and found a wonderful dress for Bridesmaid 2. It was 3 minutes until the auction ended and I bought it for a tenner. It's rather too small for her - well, at least I didn't overestimate her size - and she's now somewhat unimpressed with me. Ooooops.)
I'm now contemplating a possible d), which would involve writing each bridesmaid a cheque and telling them to dress themselves in whatever they want. When I put this to Bridesmaid 3 she replied that, given the choice, she'd dress herself entirely in Goretex and hi-performance fleece but that I'd have to accept that because she has a disability which makes her feel the cold, and claims middle-rate DLA for it, too.
And we all laughed.
Monday, 19 November 2007
the theology of equality?
As lilwatchergirl recently joked, I'm currently a bit obsessed with the concept of Equal Opportunities.
Suffice to say, this isn't the first time I've contended with such issues (suffice to say, because I don't want to be identified) and I've had plenty of opportunities to think about such things.
I think that the concepts of equality and diversity and the legal construct of Equal Opportunities is something with which the Church has yet to properly contend. In my opinion, the Church either
a) needs to produce a cohesive and dignified narrative about why Equal Opportunities does not accord with Christian principles and how it could run society better or
b)needs to embrace Equal Opportunities and lead the way in inclusion, tolerance, anti-discrimination and fair employment.
And currently, the Church does neither. There was the furore over the Incitement to Religious Hatred and how it would stop an evangelical preacher asserting that the Muslims will burn in hell... and then there was whatever the Bill was that was supposed to be able to force Christians to employ Buddhists as their vicars... then the particularly vicious kerfuffle earlier this year about how the Sexual Orientation Regulations would force a fundamentalist hotelier to allow a gay couple to dirty his sheets. Time after time after time after time the church gets dragged along kicking and screaming and is forced to stop scare-mongering cheap moral panic and obey the law.
But perhaps I should give the Church more credit. I think the Church realised long ago what a postmodern and pluralistic society has not yet grasped: one cannot legislate for attitudes. People will act far more readily according to their beliefs, feelings and attitudes than according to external rules imposed up them, and maybe there's little point pretending otherwise. Maybe the Church exposes what the rest of us daren't say, which is that Equal Opportunities legislation promises far more than it delivers and even, perhaps, delivers very little.
So where does one go from here? I don't know.
Suffice to say, this isn't the first time I've contended with such issues (suffice to say, because I don't want to be identified) and I've had plenty of opportunities to think about such things.
I think that the concepts of equality and diversity and the legal construct of Equal Opportunities is something with which the Church has yet to properly contend. In my opinion, the Church either
a) needs to produce a cohesive and dignified narrative about why Equal Opportunities does not accord with Christian principles and how it could run society better or
b)needs to embrace Equal Opportunities and lead the way in inclusion, tolerance, anti-discrimination and fair employment.
And currently, the Church does neither. There was the furore over the Incitement to Religious Hatred and how it would stop an evangelical preacher asserting that the Muslims will burn in hell... and then there was whatever the Bill was that was supposed to be able to force Christians to employ Buddhists as their vicars... then the particularly vicious kerfuffle earlier this year about how the Sexual Orientation Regulations would force a fundamentalist hotelier to allow a gay couple to dirty his sheets. Time after time after time after time the church gets dragged along kicking and screaming and is forced to stop scare-mongering cheap moral panic and obey the law.
But perhaps I should give the Church more credit. I think the Church realised long ago what a postmodern and pluralistic society has not yet grasped: one cannot legislate for attitudes. People will act far more readily according to their beliefs, feelings and attitudes than according to external rules imposed up them, and maybe there's little point pretending otherwise. Maybe the Church exposes what the rest of us daren't say, which is that Equal Opportunities legislation promises far more than it delivers and even, perhaps, delivers very little.
So where does one go from here? I don't know.
Friday, 16 November 2007
a job what i want
... what was advertised today.
Points in its favour
1. It's at an LEP [local evangelical partnership - an amalgamation of several churches each from a different denomination] and therefore in theory making a virtue of being all broad-minded and tolerant.
2. One of my best friends ever goes to the church attached. This may or may not be an advantage in getting me an interview (and of course, it shouldn't be), but it certainly indicates that they're nice people.
3. It's just round the corner from Fiance's so I would be working within a community. And I wouldn't be generating carbon emissions getting there (*grace is currently seeking all possible theological justification for pre-marital cohabitation*). And I'd be doing my bit for social inclusiveness by taking the shortcut through the grounds of the local mental hospital to and from work.
4. The pay is rather good. For the voluntary sector, anyway.
Points against
1. They want someone with management experience (*grace does not possess this*).
2. They want someone with two years of management experience (*grace does not possess this, either*).
3. Ideally, they would prefer someone with five years management experience (*you can see what's coming*)
Points in its favour
1. It's at an LEP [local evangelical partnership - an amalgamation of several churches each from a different denomination] and therefore in theory making a virtue of being all broad-minded and tolerant.
2. One of my best friends ever goes to the church attached. This may or may not be an advantage in getting me an interview (and of course, it shouldn't be), but it certainly indicates that they're nice people.
3. It's just round the corner from Fiance's so I would be working within a community. And I wouldn't be generating carbon emissions getting there (*grace is currently seeking all possible theological justification for pre-marital cohabitation*). And I'd be doing my bit for social inclusiveness by taking the shortcut through the grounds of the local mental hospital to and from work.
4. The pay is rather good. For the voluntary sector, anyway.
Points against
1. They want someone with management experience (*grace does not possess this*).
2. They want someone with two years of management experience (*grace does not possess this, either*).
3. Ideally, they would prefer someone with five years management experience (*you can see what's coming*)
Monday, 12 November 2007
questions
What would happen to Christianity, if it began to base itself on the love of Christ rather than the sin of humanity (ie Creation Spirituality as opposed to Original Sin-centred religion)?
If so, what would happen to the Church, without guilt as a mechanism for enforcing conformity?
Therefore, is his grace (2 Corinthians 12:7-9) really sufficient for us...?
Either way, can one ever create a community based purely on love without descending into control-freakery, anarchy or bullying the free-thinkers?
If so, what would happen to the Church, without guilt as a mechanism for enforcing conformity?
Therefore, is his grace (2 Corinthians 12:7-9) really sufficient for us...?
Either way, can one ever create a community based purely on love without descending into control-freakery, anarchy or bullying the free-thinkers?
Wednesday, 7 November 2007
It's my party and
A Significant Birthday. Ouch. I don't like them, at all. I don't think having one's Special Day so close to Remembrance Sunday helps, either. So far, I've been washing all my furniture covers to celebrate.
I'm feeling very much as I did on about my eleventh birthday, my mind suddenly full of new thoughts, perspectives and ideas, awakening to new possibilities. It's exciting but absolutely terrifying and, I am increasingly aware, likely to end in me very soon thinking myself out of a job. I'm going away, somewhere both extremely cold, windy and isolated, to think and pray and snuggle up with Fiance about it all.
Jesus began at 30, the Bible says.
Monday, 5 November 2007
fellow travellers #3
The fireworks began as soon as it got dark... well, that was about ten days ago now. But the banging began long before I left work this evening. I stood at the top of my road, the highest point for miles around, and watched.
It's a bit grim when you think about it, really. And the more I do think about it, the more I grow in sympathy for Guy Fawkes. Attempting to blow up the Houses of Parliament was an indisputably stupid thing to do, of course. But perhaps Guy Fawkes felt that he has no other option, no other means by which to express his sense of oppression. Perhaps he was motivated not by powerlust or anger as much as his longing for religious freedom and his desperation simply to be allowed to worship God as he needed to.
The local authority in which I live has a policy of providing as many free Guy Fawkes night bonfires and fireworks displays as it can. Their thinking being that their provision will prevent local NEETs, unwashed and "communities" from randomly aiming lighted rockets into one another's yards. In an area so historically divided, racist and inflammatory, one can see their thinking. But yet it's ironic, in response to Guy Fawkes' attempt to fight state control of something, the government seeks to impose a controlled response. Like in all these new anti-terror measures.
I've never been particularly anarchist or libertarian, but I can't help wondering. If we all allowed those around us to believe whatever they want and worship however they like, what would happen?
And what would be the theological implications - and prerequisites - for that amongst people who believe that there is only one Saviour?
I don't know the answers to my own questions. But all around me, the firworks continue.
It's a bit grim when you think about it, really. And the more I do think about it, the more I grow in sympathy for Guy Fawkes. Attempting to blow up the Houses of Parliament was an indisputably stupid thing to do, of course. But perhaps Guy Fawkes felt that he has no other option, no other means by which to express his sense of oppression. Perhaps he was motivated not by powerlust or anger as much as his longing for religious freedom and his desperation simply to be allowed to worship God as he needed to.
The local authority in which I live has a policy of providing as many free Guy Fawkes night bonfires and fireworks displays as it can. Their thinking being that their provision will prevent local NEETs, unwashed and "communities" from randomly aiming lighted rockets into one another's yards. In an area so historically divided, racist and inflammatory, one can see their thinking. But yet it's ironic, in response to Guy Fawkes' attempt to fight state control of something, the government seeks to impose a controlled response. Like in all these new anti-terror measures.
I've never been particularly anarchist or libertarian, but I can't help wondering. If we all allowed those around us to believe whatever they want and worship however they like, what would happen?
And what would be the theological implications - and prerequisites - for that amongst people who believe that there is only one Saviour?
I don't know the answers to my own questions. But all around me, the firworks continue.
Saturday, 3 November 2007
anonymity breach 101
Earlier this evening, blog readers were temporarily able to access the entire Facebook profile of Fiance through my blog.
D'oh.
D'oh.
Thursday, 1 November 2007
fellow travellers #2
I think I inadvertantly Outed a volunteer I work with last week. She was asking why things seem a little ahem awkward between myself and a certain member of the management. I was telling her that we had exchanged ahem words about me having a Fiance who is Unsaved and Divorced. Before she had a chance to even consider offering any further ahem words, I added, jovially, "well at least he's a he. If we were talking even about a saved un-divorced woman I were in love with, we'd both be crucified in boiling oil".
It was only after she'd left the room in tears that I realised what I'd done.
She's a wonderful woman, so positive, so creative and God loves her so much. The only question I want to ask her is how, how do you cope with living and working and being in a situation in which you have to hide who you are?
I don't think that there is any non gay-specific (ie Metroplitan Community Church etc) area of Christianity in which being openly gay (or bi, lesbian, transgender etc) is an easy thing. But the most conservative, evanglical, traditional, male-dominated (well, that'd be them all) dare-I-say-fundamentalist churches are definately the least tolerant, caring or thoughtful. The Church of England's current tearing of itself apart over questions of sexuality are a mere microcosm of the wider Church. And the way in which the Church is currently responding to questions of sexuality is exactly the same way in which it was responding to gender issues a generation ago, and to considering questions of ethnicity a while before that.
So whereas, of course, I'm in an immesurably easier position than the colleague I accidentally de-closeted, I still believe that their opposition to our marriage remains not an issue of faith or theology but of diversity, different-ness, other-ness. The more our detractors tell me "now it's not because he's [ethnic and religious background of Fiance] it's because he's Unsaved and Divorced" the more I feel they keep saying that only to persuade themselves. And that all raises, I think, massive questions about the nature of faith affiliation, selfhood, identity and what it measn essentially to be human in relation to God.
"Give it another two hundred years" Fiance says, "and then they'll stop hassling and accept that we love one another."
And what, then, in the meantime? Does one run from any church that seeks to reject the most fundemental parts of one's being? Or does one stay and hope that, through one's persistence, that two hundred years might become only one hundred and fifty?
It was only after she'd left the room in tears that I realised what I'd done.
She's a wonderful woman, so positive, so creative and God loves her so much. The only question I want to ask her is how, how do you cope with living and working and being in a situation in which you have to hide who you are?
I don't think that there is any non gay-specific (ie Metroplitan Community Church etc) area of Christianity in which being openly gay (or bi, lesbian, transgender etc) is an easy thing. But the most conservative, evanglical, traditional, male-dominated (well, that'd be them all) dare-I-say-fundamentalist churches are definately the least tolerant, caring or thoughtful. The Church of England's current tearing of itself apart over questions of sexuality are a mere microcosm of the wider Church. And the way in which the Church is currently responding to questions of sexuality is exactly the same way in which it was responding to gender issues a generation ago, and to considering questions of ethnicity a while before that.
So whereas, of course, I'm in an immesurably easier position than the colleague I accidentally de-closeted, I still believe that their opposition to our marriage remains not an issue of faith or theology but of diversity, different-ness, other-ness. The more our detractors tell me "now it's not because he's [ethnic and religious background of Fiance] it's because he's Unsaved and Divorced" the more I feel they keep saying that only to persuade themselves. And that all raises, I think, massive questions about the nature of faith affiliation, selfhood, identity and what it measn essentially to be human in relation to God.
"Give it another two hundred years" Fiance says, "and then they'll stop hassling and accept that we love one another."
And what, then, in the meantime? Does one run from any church that seeks to reject the most fundemental parts of one's being? Or does one stay and hope that, through one's persistence, that two hundred years might become only one hundred and fifty?
Wednesday, 31 October 2007
and then what?
When you feel as though they've really bollocksed up under all known employment procedures and then managed to slide away from it, what do you do? In the words of Phillip Yancey, we're all of us bastards and God loves us anyway. So essentially, then, you forgive them and you love them. But can I do that? Maybe. However, my sense of kinship with and passion for them has been extinguished.
A woman from church asked me this evening whether Fiance and I had moved in together yet. I told her that if we had, I would certainly no longer be allowed to continue in my job. She giggled nervously and replied oh but I was just trying to be open-minded about these things. I didn't tell her that, last week, I was on the verge of walking away from my job and moving right in with him.
A woman from church asked me this evening whether Fiance and I had moved in together yet. I told her that if we had, I would certainly no longer be allowed to continue in my job. She giggled nervously and replied oh but I was just trying to be open-minded about these things. I didn't tell her that, last week, I was on the verge of walking away from my job and moving right in with him.
Monday, 29 October 2007
Will the real Joyce Meyer please stand up?
Sunday, 28 October 2007
My mother always said that one day I'd be grateful for having studied Latin
Memory is a strange thing. We went to a service in Latin this morning (ultra Anglo-Catholic, with lots of crossings of oneself and clouds of incense) and I realised I could understand most of it. It was fifteen years ago that I gave up Latin at school, too. I sat there thinking about what I remembered of what I thought about God fifteen years ago. As a teenager, as I remember it, the God I believed in wanted very much for people to love one another. I sat there, looking at the stained glass, thinking about that.
Thursday, 25 October 2007
jesus wept: backstory
A reader emailed to ask me how I've managed to get myself entangled in such a messy situation. I thought I'd reply about it here, instead.
I'd summarise all that follows in just five words: It could have been much worse. The evangelical organisation for which I work is respected, well spoken of, collaborative, only slightly autocratic, right-on with child protection, adequately-paying of its employees and respectful to women. I could be in a really dodgy group.
I got myself involved in a particularly ominous such group at the age of 16. In relation to the demographics and personality types of those alleged to be "at risk" of joining "cults", I was the epitome and the archetye: young, bright, idealistic and a bit mad. Whereas I don't really by into the tabloid concept of "cults" as overly different from any other slightly alternative form of religious group, this was the utter epitome and archetype (minus the sex, my mother may be pleased to read) of a Daily Mail "cult" scare story. We wore skirts to worship and went to the toilet when the Dear Leader told us we needed to. She taught from two lever-arched files labelled Faith and Finances and nobody dared point out that she was saying the same thing every week. The whole group fell apart one evening after the Holy Spirit had told the Dear Leader that we needed to move our place of worship thirty miles north-north-east to preserve God's annointing on us. Seven of us arrived on her doorstep unannounced one evening to "discuss" this. One woman delivered a somewhat forcible sermon on how, if God is everywhere, he would be unlikely to require us to move thirty miles north-north-east and how, if God is a God of families, he would not be asking us to put church attendance thirty miles north-north-easy-away before her son's Sunday rugby matches. Then another woman (well, it was me, but I don't like to boast) said that she'd been reading about the early Church in the Bible and that her impression was of a community in which everyone made decisions together and no Dear Leader had the authority to ruin an woman's attendance at a son's rugby match. Dear Leader stuttered "well everything I teach you is entirely from Kenneth Copeland and Kenneth Hagin". I said "we'd rather have the teaching of Christ". And everything fell apart from there. Not that I want to blow my own trumpet. But it did.
A few years later, in my early twenties, I briefly encountered another such group. Although I wasn't so young, I was significantly more mad and was sitting in Costa one icy afternoon, reading the Guardian and crying. Two girls (one of whom I'd been at uni with) came over to ask whether I was alright, and took me back to theirs to convene a prayer group for me and it all began from there. This group, I think, weren't motivated by money or power as much as a strange mix of compassion for the lonely and fear of the outside, theological shortcomings and maybe a fair bit of narcissism. But I knew, even at the outset, that the vision they had for me wasn't going to happen. The idea was that Grace would become a poster-child, a figurehead and a spokesperson for the ex-mad, that God would have tranformed me in a blaze of light and I'd then lead their ministry of healing with such annointing that all the mental hospitals would close. Um, yes. The trouble was, I knew that God wasn't going to transform me in that blaze of light because what they wanted me transformed into was that perfect image of themselves, or rather, Joyce Meyer. I suspected that, instead, God might have a few things to teach me along the way and that he would prefer me to be transformed into his likeness as Grace rather than some televangelist clone-figure. And so, I thanked them for their idea and politely declined.
I found a very nice local church and felt entirely safe, relaxed and un-got-at there for the next however-many years.
So it's a few years on that I'm doing this job. I was sitting online last night, using Google, MySpace and Facebook to track down the women I remembered from both groups. And what I learned was frighteningly consistent: the ones who stayed are the ones who married the sons of the leaders. Invariably, even. Endless blogs and mission reports and photos of six-child families mummied by the exhausted-looking faces I remember as energetic, bright, idealistic and slightly mad teenagers.
They, then, are the ones I worry about.
I'd summarise all that follows in just five words: It could have been much worse. The evangelical organisation for which I work is respected, well spoken of, collaborative, only slightly autocratic, right-on with child protection, adequately-paying of its employees and respectful to women. I could be in a really dodgy group.
I got myself involved in a particularly ominous such group at the age of 16. In relation to the demographics and personality types of those alleged to be "at risk" of joining "cults", I was the epitome and the archetye: young, bright, idealistic and a bit mad. Whereas I don't really by into the tabloid concept of "cults" as overly different from any other slightly alternative form of religious group, this was the utter epitome and archetype (minus the sex, my mother may be pleased to read) of a Daily Mail "cult" scare story. We wore skirts to worship and went to the toilet when the Dear Leader told us we needed to. She taught from two lever-arched files labelled Faith and Finances and nobody dared point out that she was saying the same thing every week. The whole group fell apart one evening after the Holy Spirit had told the Dear Leader that we needed to move our place of worship thirty miles north-north-east to preserve God's annointing on us. Seven of us arrived on her doorstep unannounced one evening to "discuss" this. One woman delivered a somewhat forcible sermon on how, if God is everywhere, he would be unlikely to require us to move thirty miles north-north-east and how, if God is a God of families, he would not be asking us to put church attendance thirty miles north-north-easy-away before her son's Sunday rugby matches. Then another woman (well, it was me, but I don't like to boast) said that she'd been reading about the early Church in the Bible and that her impression was of a community in which everyone made decisions together and no Dear Leader had the authority to ruin an woman's attendance at a son's rugby match. Dear Leader stuttered "well everything I teach you is entirely from Kenneth Copeland and Kenneth Hagin". I said "we'd rather have the teaching of Christ". And everything fell apart from there. Not that I want to blow my own trumpet. But it did.
A few years later, in my early twenties, I briefly encountered another such group. Although I wasn't so young, I was significantly more mad and was sitting in Costa one icy afternoon, reading the Guardian and crying. Two girls (one of whom I'd been at uni with) came over to ask whether I was alright, and took me back to theirs to convene a prayer group for me and it all began from there. This group, I think, weren't motivated by money or power as much as a strange mix of compassion for the lonely and fear of the outside, theological shortcomings and maybe a fair bit of narcissism. But I knew, even at the outset, that the vision they had for me wasn't going to happen. The idea was that Grace would become a poster-child, a figurehead and a spokesperson for the ex-mad, that God would have tranformed me in a blaze of light and I'd then lead their ministry of healing with such annointing that all the mental hospitals would close. Um, yes. The trouble was, I knew that God wasn't going to transform me in that blaze of light because what they wanted me transformed into was that perfect image of themselves, or rather, Joyce Meyer. I suspected that, instead, God might have a few things to teach me along the way and that he would prefer me to be transformed into his likeness as Grace rather than some televangelist clone-figure. And so, I thanked them for their idea and politely declined.
I found a very nice local church and felt entirely safe, relaxed and un-got-at there for the next however-many years.
So it's a few years on that I'm doing this job. I was sitting online last night, using Google, MySpace and Facebook to track down the women I remembered from both groups. And what I learned was frighteningly consistent: the ones who stayed are the ones who married the sons of the leaders. Invariably, even. Endless blogs and mission reports and photos of six-child families mummied by the exhausted-looking faces I remember as energetic, bright, idealistic and slightly mad teenagers.
They, then, are the ones I worry about.
Wednesday, 24 October 2007
the perils of staring at the spam filter as well as the inbox
I received emails
- selling viagra
- asking me if I wanted instant ***** *** with eighteen year old Latvian girls with tight ****s
- selling more viagra
- advertising some sort of hydraulic device to ensure instant **** ***s with said Latvians
- selling yet more viagra
- another suchlike device with a anatomical diagram explaining how the above works, for use with Lithuanians as well as Latvians
- selling a bit more viagra again
- and then the above-but-one email again with a flash animation, lest I might have misunderstood the diagram, for use with Estonians as well as Lithuanians and Latvians...
OK, so maybe there's a joker out there who thinks it's hilarious to write a program that distributes sick email spam to people with email domains @incredlyholyevangelicals.org.uk.
Or maybe there are more married and respectable upright men with email addresses @incrediblyholyevangelicals.org.uk who might partake of aforementioned Baltic services with viagra and hydraulic assistance? Maybe the person who wrote the programme to target such spam at @incrediblyholyevangelicals.org.uk isn't a sick joker as much as a canny businessman, responding to his market?
We all moan (and occasionally giggle) about it at work. But perhaps we're missing something that abstinence-based, sexually-repressive forms of faith fail to realise they might even be encouraging...
Tuesday, 23 October 2007
Monday, 22 October 2007
grace. eating again. half-baked post-eucharistic theological ranatings.
Communion again this evening. Cous-cous with chickpeas followed by blackcurrant crumble... I think I risk labouring a point. But maybe the way in which I started getting hungry at the very same moment that I started with an unprecedented intensity to question everything of evangelical Christianity as I'd ever before known it... perhaps in a society in which conformists aspire to size 0 and nice girls don't swallow (yes, I know, excuse the cliches) perhaps that's saying something, too. And so, we shared communion, with custard on the crumble, with old university friends. Friends both with and without all forms of Christian faith and/or scepticism, friends refusing to label themselves into any easy categories.
It suddenly struck Fiance that Christianity is not only bedevelled by division and hierarchy, religion created it. From the Greek hireus-arche=temple-ers (ie priests) at the beginning (ie in power). But why should a belief in God or a god or any god lead people into structures and doctrines that power-trip the some over the many? Ultimately, one can to drift off with Plato or consider the political scariness that generated the divine rights of kings in English history which got Charles beheaded... but it's no different today, merely a bit subtler, simply that the boss has the authority to ignore all employment legislation because God told him (directly and charismatically or traditionally and institutionally) how to handle it better himself. My question then becomes, so why do I need to see God as so majestically separate from us when I'm not sure I even believe in the concept of monarchy, when I've never yet managed to dutifully submit myself to anyone who plays the do-what-I-say-because-God-put-me-in-charge card? And I've suddenly realised (and sorry to increase the font size but I'm getting excited here) that I don't.
Jesus. The Incarnation. Him from Upstairs coming Downstairs and joining us all for bread and fish and curry and naan bread and cous-cous, chickpeas, apple crumble and lots of wine. He's here with us. We're all in it together.
They don't have to bully us any more.
This all, however, raises a rather bleak what-am-I-going-to-do-about-it question. If I'm now to put my fingers where my apple crumble is, I'd currently be typing a letter to resign from my job, on the grounds of conscience. Is that something I dare?
And if so, what else would I be doing with my life?
It suddenly struck Fiance that Christianity is not only bedevelled by division and hierarchy, religion created it. From the Greek hireus-arche=temple-ers (ie priests) at the beginning (ie in power). But why should a belief in God or a god or any god lead people into structures and doctrines that power-trip the some over the many? Ultimately, one can to drift off with Plato or consider the political scariness that generated the divine rights of kings in English history which got Charles beheaded... but it's no different today, merely a bit subtler, simply that the boss has the authority to ignore all employment legislation because God told him (directly and charismatically or traditionally and institutionally) how to handle it better himself. My question then becomes, so why do I need to see God as so majestically separate from us when I'm not sure I even believe in the concept of monarchy, when I've never yet managed to dutifully submit myself to anyone who plays the do-what-I-say-because-God-put-me-in-charge card? And I've suddenly realised (and sorry to increase the font size but I'm getting excited here) that I don't.
Jesus. The Incarnation. Him from Upstairs coming Downstairs and joining us all for bread and fish and curry and naan bread and cous-cous, chickpeas, apple crumble and lots of wine. He's here with us. We're all in it together.
They don't have to bully us any more.
This all, however, raises a rather bleak what-am-I-going-to-do-about-it question. If I'm now to put my fingers where my apple crumble is, I'd currently be typing a letter to resign from my job, on the grounds of conscience. Is that something I dare?
And if so, what else would I be doing with my life?
Sunday, 21 October 2007
what grace maybe means
Returning to my thoughts on bread and wine and community. I'm increasingly struggling with a doctrine that dictates that Fiance, as an Unsaved Person, should not take communion in church with me. Certainly, I understand that communion is essentially about Jesus drawing all of his followers as one into his body. But I think that, for Jesus, the desire to make everyone welcome came before any attempt to define who was or wasn't on his side... after all, he had Judas there beside him at the Last Supper.
I went up to take bread and wine on my own again this morning. Fiance gritted his teeth and buried his face in the church notice sheet.
This evening, though, we had our communion. We (meaning Fiance, the all-rabbits-friends-and-relations of his family and I) had decided earlier in the week to go to my local curry house. The restaurant was at bursting point with a big Punjabi local wedding, but they still managed to squeeze us in. Was it because they recongnised me as that woman from down the road who has worked with their daughters at that religious place they don't know much about? Or was it because we looked hungry, whoever we were?
Echoes of the prophesies and parables of Messianic wedding banquets and feasts. Thinking about the Christian tradition that calls the sharing of bread and wine the eucharist. Eucharist being from the Greek eu-karist-o meaning, literally, "I activate grace rightly" and hence, figuratively, "I celebrate". If grace is taken as meaning what God has given us (and I risk oversimplification here, I know) then celebration can be defined as merely a putting into action of what God has given. A putting into action of what God has given. That sounds very much like this evening's curry house squeezing us in on a makeshift table in the corner and serving us extravagent leftovers from the wedding buffet.
So Fiance and I (and all the family) got our communion together, after all. Garlic naan, dipped in tarka dhal, washed down with mango juice.
fellow travellers
This conversation really did take place at a party I was at last night.
NEW ACQUAINTANCE AT PARTY Good evening, so you're Grace? How do you do? Pleased to meet you!
GRACE (slightly taken aback by NAAP's formality) Hi, yes. And how do you know [name of party host omitted for confidentiality] ?
NAAP We're at church together. And I'm a surgeon like her.
GRACE (noting that NAAP appears of an ethnicity not usually indigenous to the region) So have you come over here for a job with [party host]?
NAAP No, it's a long story. But what do you do for a living?
GRACE [description of job omitted for confidentiality]
NAAP Ah Praise the Lord! Now I will indeed tell you. I have come here for a year out, seeking a Road to Damascus experience!
GRACE (thinking "why would anyone want to come here from halfway across the world to do that?!") Now this isn't a place many choose for that...
NAAP At home, in London even, my family is such that, within my community, I've got so much wealth, status... I'm treated as royalty, I am royalty. I chose here because nobody would know my background, I'd not be treated as special...
GRACE makes impressed and admiring noises. HUSSEIN [that's not his real name, obviously] enters. He is also a surgeon and was granted refugee status from an not-to-be-named Middle Eastern country three years ago.
HUSSEIN Sorry to interrupt. But I heard you were talking about the road to Damascus?
NAAP Yes, I was explaining to Grace that it is something I long to travel, that I'm desperately seeking an encounter with Christ...
HUSSEIN So, er, which road to Damascus would that be? And at which point? I mean, where exactly?
NAAP (oblivious to HUSSEIN's lack of understanding of the imagery she is using) All I want is to meet with God. To have an experience of Christ more personal than I have yet found living in such a privileged faith-filled community as I grew up in.
GRACE Er, perhaps it would be helpful if Hussein explained to you where he's from...
HUSSEIN [specifies country of origin] and after I left there my brother and I spent a few months in hiding in a village just off one of the main roads into Damascus. He was killed there, one night. We still don't know who did it, or why.
GRACE (cringeing heavily) Oh er um, God, I didn't know that (slowly sinks through [party host]'s laminate flooring in embarrassment to reprimand self for insensitivity)
NEW ACQUAINTANCE AT PARTY Good evening, so you're Grace? How do you do? Pleased to meet you!
GRACE (slightly taken aback by NAAP's formality) Hi, yes. And how do you know [name of party host omitted for confidentiality] ?
NAAP We're at church together. And I'm a surgeon like her.
GRACE (noting that NAAP appears of an ethnicity not usually indigenous to the region) So have you come over here for a job with [party host]?
NAAP No, it's a long story. But what do you do for a living?
GRACE [description of job omitted for confidentiality]
NAAP Ah Praise the Lord! Now I will indeed tell you. I have come here for a year out, seeking a Road to Damascus experience!
GRACE (thinking "why would anyone want to come here from halfway across the world to do that?!") Now this isn't a place many choose for that...
NAAP At home, in London even, my family is such that, within my community, I've got so much wealth, status... I'm treated as royalty, I am royalty. I chose here because nobody would know my background, I'd not be treated as special...
GRACE makes impressed and admiring noises. HUSSEIN [that's not his real name, obviously] enters. He is also a surgeon and was granted refugee status from an not-to-be-named Middle Eastern country three years ago.
HUSSEIN Sorry to interrupt. But I heard you were talking about the road to Damascus?
NAAP Yes, I was explaining to Grace that it is something I long to travel, that I'm desperately seeking an encounter with Christ...
HUSSEIN So, er, which road to Damascus would that be? And at which point? I mean, where exactly?
NAAP (oblivious to HUSSEIN's lack of understanding of the imagery she is using) All I want is to meet with God. To have an experience of Christ more personal than I have yet found living in such a privileged faith-filled community as I grew up in.
GRACE Er, perhaps it would be helpful if Hussein explained to you where he's from...
HUSSEIN [specifies country of origin] and after I left there my brother and I spent a few months in hiding in a village just off one of the main roads into Damascus. He was killed there, one night. We still don't know who did it, or why.
GRACE (cringeing heavily) Oh er um, God, I didn't know that (slowly sinks through [party host]'s laminate flooring in embarrassment to reprimand self for insensitivity)
afterthought
I shouldn't have concluded the way I did yesterday. The aim of this blog is not to engage in cheap Bible-bashing-bashing (ie not to moan about the narrow-mindedness of some evangelicals... because we can all of us be narrow-minded when we choose to be) but simply to think, and to find others with whom I can think.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
