If there are any persons who contest a received opinion... let us thank them for it, open our minds to listen to them, and rejoice that there is someone to do for us what we otherwise ought, if we have any regard for either the certainty or the vitality of our convictions, to do with much greater labour for ourselves.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Thus Spake John Stuart Mill
Saturday, April 21, 2007
G-d
You know when you repeat a word over and over, and suddenly it just starts to sound odd and alien to you. And no amount of repetition can dissolve this new strangeness. And it is the simplest words, the shortest ones, the ones that you use most often, that lose the most meaning.
And suddenly they are just patterns of noise, empty and flat.
And you know that parallel to this emptiness flies an intense, real, lividness; a vast, expansive, intention which goes so far beyond what you could ever mean.
So you stop hanging on to the words and you look to the ground. Uncovered is the layer of dignity upon which these words rested, reclined.
Not ideas.
Real things.
People.
Relationships.
Interactions.
Community.
Trust.
Acceptance.
Hope.
Love.
And these above are just words, but I mean life.
And these things don't have less meaning; they have immeasureably more. So much more life and truth flying by the seat of their pants, that my word for it is like an outline, a child's doodle, an arrow thrown in the dark.
Choosing not to use it as you did. There is power in that.
Because it is a power which is not reigned in.
Because we don't control it.
Because what I mean when I don't say it is more than what I mean when I do.
And suddenly they are just patterns of noise, empty and flat.
And you know that parallel to this emptiness flies an intense, real, lividness; a vast, expansive, intention which goes so far beyond what you could ever mean.
So you stop hanging on to the words and you look to the ground. Uncovered is the layer of dignity upon which these words rested, reclined.
Not ideas.
Real things.
People.
Relationships.
Interactions.
Community.
Trust.
Acceptance.
Hope.
Love.
And these above are just words, but I mean life.
And these things don't have less meaning; they have immeasureably more. So much more life and truth flying by the seat of their pants, that my word for it is like an outline, a child's doodle, an arrow thrown in the dark.
Choosing not to use it as you did. There is power in that.
Because it is a power which is not reigned in.
Because we don't control it.
Because what I mean when I don't say it is more than what I mean when I do.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
the baptism of Jonah, a story:
Jonah had been called by God and he was running from that call. In his chosen escape vessel he navigated on the rough sea, knowing that it was rough because he was going in the wrong direction. And he told his ship-mates so: "Heave me overboard, and the sea will calm down for you; for I know that this terrible storm came upon you on my account." The only way back for Jonah was to face the rough sea made of his lack of hope and his desire to control the things of God (not entirely unrelated...), and to allow himself to be overtaken by the waves. Not for his own sake, but for the sake of those on the ship, desperately casting lots in the hope of finding the cause of this misfortunate voyage. For being thrown from the vessel into these rough waters must have meant not just death to Jonah's attempt to control the reach of God's salvation- Jonah's lack of hope for his enemies; but also a literal death.
And when all hope is seemingly lost, and Jonah is thrown from that vessel which kept him safe from the storm for a certain time, Jonah finds his deliverance. He is thrown into the belly of a large fish.
God sends this fish to be a catcher of men.
(Surely a threatening move were it not for the circumstances...)
And Jonah is given a new vessel, which he has no hope of controlling, and all he can do is sit in its belly as it dives deeper from the height of the stormy waves into the still depths of the ocean. And it is only from this stillness that he is able to declare, "Deliverance is the Lord's!"
His death was a sacrifice. He allowed himself to be thrown overboard for the sake of the ship. And from what must have seemed like certain death, from the moment of facing his own storm, from the baptismal plunge under the waves of God; out of this place came his salvation, out of this he rose again. On the third day, he was spewed, alive and reborn, onto the shore.
And this time he listens. "Go at once to Nineveh," says the Lord, and he goes. And, as if receiving a long-awaited sign, even as Jonah's threat is still melting into the walls of the city, the people start to repent. Sackcloth and ashes and turning from evil. "Who knows but that God may turn and relent?" says the King, himself turned by his people.
The Lord is gracious and compassionate. He sees their repentence and forsakes their punishment, and only Jonah is aggrieved.
Baptised he may have been in the waves of the stormy sea made of his own despair, baptised to the depth of God's grace to that moment where truly giving oneself up becomes the deliverance of God, baptised into total dependence; and yet, he is still to learn its meaning.
"Deliverance is the Lord's!" declares God as Jonah walks away, out of the shade of this saved city into the empty blazing heat. Momentary comfort is found in the untended vine, which is taken in the next, and yet God thwarts Jonah's wishes and will not let him die.
Jonah had no hope for the deliverance of the people of Nineveh. Or maybe he had not desired it. He hears God's call, but he is unable to see beyond an old emnity, and to see that his own deliverance is altogether tied up with their own. Jonah's enemies serve as his foil. They had evil ways from which to repent, but they were ready to hear the words of God from a strange enemy, thrown from the unknown waves onto their shores, speaking only despair. They repent, and they hope. Somehow, in the words of their destruction they hear some vestige of hope for themselves. Not from their own goodness, but from the possibility of the limitless compassion of God. They do all they can; and they leave it to God.
"Deliverance is the Lord's!" they cry.
And this is their hope, as it was Jonah's in the belly of that uncontrollable, foreign vessel. And there is humility- they listen and they act and they hope in God. More than this: they hear of their hope through this imperfect enemy- Jonah- who becomes the unlikely (and ungrateful) human vessel of the divine grace of God.
And when all hope is seemingly lost, and Jonah is thrown from that vessel which kept him safe from the storm for a certain time, Jonah finds his deliverance. He is thrown into the belly of a large fish.
God sends this fish to be a catcher of men.
(Surely a threatening move were it not for the circumstances...)
And Jonah is given a new vessel, which he has no hope of controlling, and all he can do is sit in its belly as it dives deeper from the height of the stormy waves into the still depths of the ocean. And it is only from this stillness that he is able to declare, "Deliverance is the Lord's!"
His death was a sacrifice. He allowed himself to be thrown overboard for the sake of the ship. And from what must have seemed like certain death, from the moment of facing his own storm, from the baptismal plunge under the waves of God; out of this place came his salvation, out of this he rose again. On the third day, he was spewed, alive and reborn, onto the shore.
And this time he listens. "Go at once to Nineveh," says the Lord, and he goes. And, as if receiving a long-awaited sign, even as Jonah's threat is still melting into the walls of the city, the people start to repent. Sackcloth and ashes and turning from evil. "Who knows but that God may turn and relent?" says the King, himself turned by his people.
The Lord is gracious and compassionate. He sees their repentence and forsakes their punishment, and only Jonah is aggrieved.
Baptised he may have been in the waves of the stormy sea made of his own despair, baptised to the depth of God's grace to that moment where truly giving oneself up becomes the deliverance of God, baptised into total dependence; and yet, he is still to learn its meaning.
"Deliverance is the Lord's!" declares God as Jonah walks away, out of the shade of this saved city into the empty blazing heat. Momentary comfort is found in the untended vine, which is taken in the next, and yet God thwarts Jonah's wishes and will not let him die.
Jonah had no hope for the deliverance of the people of Nineveh. Or maybe he had not desired it. He hears God's call, but he is unable to see beyond an old emnity, and to see that his own deliverance is altogether tied up with their own. Jonah's enemies serve as his foil. They had evil ways from which to repent, but they were ready to hear the words of God from a strange enemy, thrown from the unknown waves onto their shores, speaking only despair. They repent, and they hope. Somehow, in the words of their destruction they hear some vestige of hope for themselves. Not from their own goodness, but from the possibility of the limitless compassion of God. They do all they can; and they leave it to God.
"Deliverance is the Lord's!" they cry.
And this is their hope, as it was Jonah's in the belly of that uncontrollable, foreign vessel. And there is humility- they listen and they act and they hope in God. More than this: they hear of their hope through this imperfect enemy- Jonah- who becomes the unlikely (and ungrateful) human vessel of the divine grace of God.
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Crazy little thing...
I did wonder how long it would take. Give it a year, I said to myself. Take some time, see the folks, save up the dinas...
Well, it has been but five months (has it really been that long?) and it has returned. That knawing feeling that stops you from sleeping. That joy that comes at you from nowhere and makes you feel so excited to be... well, to be wherever you are. That fear that you know what you love and you know you have to jump straight in and give it your whole being, knowing that doing so could just break your heart, because if this doesn't work out (if you're actually just a bit rubbish at what you love) then you really are lost. Totally up the creek. No paddle. And no clue which way is north.
No, I'm not in love.
Well, I suppose I am.
How long and easy it is to think about other dreams and other possibilities, all reasonable and good in their own way; and then something comes along and you are taken away, and you are left wondering why you ever think that you were made for anything else. Why you ever try and dream other dreams. When you know what really makes the world seem brighter and more purposeful to you. When you know what challenges you most. When you know what makes you feel most alive. And you know that if you don't jump in and give it everything, then you will always wonder, always regret not following that instinct, that gut, that lights you up.
Most people don't feel it.
You have to follow it.
And if it means failing, then you fail.
But at least you won't regret. That when you were young you did not know that the future is open and that our potential is always greater than we imagine, and that, in some sense that we may never understand, while we still hope for something, it will always be possible.
Well, it has been but five months (has it really been that long?) and it has returned. That knawing feeling that stops you from sleeping. That joy that comes at you from nowhere and makes you feel so excited to be... well, to be wherever you are. That fear that you know what you love and you know you have to jump straight in and give it your whole being, knowing that doing so could just break your heart, because if this doesn't work out (if you're actually just a bit rubbish at what you love) then you really are lost. Totally up the creek. No paddle. And no clue which way is north.
No, I'm not in love.
Well, I suppose I am.
How long and easy it is to think about other dreams and other possibilities, all reasonable and good in their own way; and then something comes along and you are taken away, and you are left wondering why you ever think that you were made for anything else. Why you ever try and dream other dreams. When you know what really makes the world seem brighter and more purposeful to you. When you know what challenges you most. When you know what makes you feel most alive. And you know that if you don't jump in and give it everything, then you will always wonder, always regret not following that instinct, that gut, that lights you up.
Most people don't feel it.
You have to follow it.
And if it means failing, then you fail.
But at least you won't regret. That when you were young you did not know that the future is open and that our potential is always greater than we imagine, and that, in some sense that we may never understand, while we still hope for something, it will always be possible.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Gunpowder, Treason and Plot (... and 'Terrorism'... and Torture ...and Religious Persecution...)
Remember Remember the fifth of November
The gunpowder treason and plot
I see no reason why gunpowder treason
should ever be forgot
Guy Fawkes Guy, 'twas his intent
to blow up king and parliament
Three score barrels were laid below
to prove old England's overthrow
By God's mercy he was catched
with a dark lantern and lighted match
Holler boys Holler boys let the bells ring
Holler boys Holler boys God save the King
I don't remeber ever being taught at school that Guy Fawkes and his lot tried to blow up the parliament partly because Catholics believed Elizabeth wasn't a true heir to the throne (cause her Dad, Henry VIII's divorce was not recognised by the Catholic church, and therefore she was an illegitimate child), or because Catholics were being brutally persecuted under her reign, and also under James VI (and I). And I do remember being taught about the Dissolution of the Monasteries, but I don't recall the fact that what was taken from the monasteries was used to fund war.
I think I might have been more interested in history at school if they hadn't left out all the stuff that made it interesting!
And, apparently, there were no cellars under the bit of parliament that they were meant to have been attempting to blow up, and the gunpowder wouldn't have been strong enough anyway.
I know what you're thinking- it was 401 years ago/ But I love the fireworks/ Penny-for-the-guy pays for my Christmas presents... BUT let us never passively accept the watered down versions of history promulgated by people in positions of power!! Amen
Go and de-propagandise yourselves at the following sites:
The Gunpowder Plot Society
Guy-Fawkes.com
a good links site
or, alternatively, play an excellent time-wasting game!!
Gunpowder Plot Game
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Peace Testimony of the Religious Society of Friends
"We utterly deny all outward wars and strife and fightings with outward weapons, for any end or under any pretence whatsoever. And this is our testimony to the whole world. The spirit of Christ, by which we are guided, is not changeable, so as once to command us from a thing as evil and again to move unto it; and we do certainly know, and so testify to the world, that the spirit of Christ, which leads us into all Truth, will never move us to fight and war against any man with outward weapons, neither for the kingdom of Christ, nor the kingdoms of this world."
From A Declaration from the Harmless and Innocent People of God, called Quakers, presented to Charles II, 1660.
From A Declaration from the Harmless and Innocent People of God, called Quakers, presented to Charles II, 1660.
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