Brecko's toque

Thus Spake John Stuart Mill

2008-02-24T17:16:00.002-05:00

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.

G-d

2007-04-21T18:51:00.000-04:00

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.

"being a Christian is not about being a good person"

2006-12-21T15:05:00.000-05:00

your thoughts please...

the baptism of Jonah, a story:

2006-11-22T19:06:00.000-05:00

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.

another crazy little thing...

2006-11-12T19:49:00.000-05:00

on another note...

I LOVE THIS BOY!!

Raymond Quinn makes me smile. I am not ashamed.

Crazy little thing...

2006-11-12T19:06:00.000-05:00

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.

Gunpowder, Treason and Plot (... and 'Terrorism'... and Torture ...and Religious Persecution...)

2006-11-02T18:53:00.000-05:00

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

Peace Testimony of the Religious Society of Friends

2006-10-26T18:57:00.000-04:00

"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.

Budapest

2006-10-24T17:48:00.000-04:00

A country where people take to the streets when a politician lies.

Last night we got stranded on a street in the center of Budapest. The other taxi had to return to the hotel when they couldn't make it through the city because of the protests and no taxis would come and pick us up. Knowing no Hungarian other than 'nem boy' and 'hodge vodge', we decided to stay near the police road block (although now, looking back, I think we may have been safer with the protestors) and waited for an employee of 'Hen Nation' (don't ask) to come and find us and help us to get back to the hotel. As we waited, the roaring sound of a flock of motorbikes reached us and they came streaming down the street blasting their horns and being cheered by the people passing by, only to be stopped and turned around at the road block. As they regrouped just opposite us on the street, a second group of humming beeping bikes screeched round the corner and they all set off together. Our saviour, whose eyes were still smarting from the tear gas, told us that they have been following the Prime Minister around ever since the leak of his extensive statement about the lies the government have been telling their people.

We returned to the hotel to see lines of riot police a few blocks from us aiming guns at a group of protestors on the screen in the lounge, and we heard that some protestors had stolen a tank. The police used water canons, fired rubber bullets, and kicked protestors on the ground.

pictures of the protest
news reports
50th anniversary of 1956
1956 pictures
Hungarian Revolution timeline

peace be with you

2006-10-13T19:02:00.000-04:00

"Mum's father has died"
No words were spoken of you at your funeral
You left us to our memories
The green curtain draws and I have no memories
I feel nothing for you but a distant disappointment
Did my tears fall for you?
They fall for those who are left to remember
to remember the fear, the love denied
those who are left to find the incompleteness of what you left behind.

You drew the curtain on those who might have loved you
I cry for this you who could not be loved
who blacked out names and places in the hope of some peace
The peace of denial, of turning your back
Peace be with you now grandfather
Find yours and we will still search for ours.

2006-09-21T17:58:00.000-04:00

love is whatever sets you free

Visiting edinburgh

2006-09-04T11:18:00.000-04:00

Breathing in Edinburgh. Breathing in the large grey stone and green grass. Soaking up the fresh brisk breeze, the wide skies and bright sunshine. Tasting the solid familiarity and the unpredictable excitement of this place and these people. I want to keep it in a box and take it with me. The feeling of being at home. I have to put this city on hold...

Lighthousekeeping

2006-08-28T18:39:00.000-04:00

"Tell me a story, Pew.

What kind of story, child?
A story with a happy ending.
There's no such thing in all the world.
As a happy ending?
As an ending...

We're here, there, not here, not there, swirling like specks of dust, claiming for ourselves the rights of the universe. Being important, being nothing, being caught in lives of our own making that we never wanted. Breaking out, trying again, wondering why the past comes with us, wondering how to talk about the past at all...

There it is; the light across the water. Your story. Mine. His. It has to be seen to be believed. And it has to be heard. In the endless babble of narrative, in spite of the daily noise, the story waits to be heard."

from Lighthousekeeping, by Jeanette Winterson.

unamerican hair

2006-08-28T18:31:00.000-04:00

So apparently my hair was 'quite american' when I returned (whatever that means!) so I've had a bit of a chop. Keen eyed heat reading brits might notice the follicular resemblance to a certain celebrity (I take her mimicking of me as the highest form of flattery) who shall remain nameless, and for those people I would like to point out that I had mine done at least two days before she did. Not that I'm bovvered.

confessions of a serial singleton

2006-08-08T17:54:00.000-04:00

So, I am convinced that there are two types of people in this world. Those whose default position is 'in-a-relationship' and those whose default is 'single'. I am definitely the latter...

I thought it was the reality of putting my feelings in someone elses hands that was the scary thing about relationships, but now I am beginning to think it is quite the reverse. Holding someone else's is far scarier.

the luxury of having time to read

2006-07-16T19:25:00.000-04:00

I've been reading 'Rebecca' by Daphne Du Maurier, and I could not get over how brilliantly she writes about her heroine visiting Maxim's grandmother for the first time. This must have been written from personal experience... If you haven't read it, it is worth it even if you only read the first chapter ('Last night I dremt I went to Manderley again...'). It is unnerving and quiet and mysterious, and the characters are fantastic. Genius.

"I thought how little we know about the feelings of old people. Children we understand, their fears and hopes and make-believe. I was a child yesterday. I had not forgotten. But Maxim's grandmother, sitting there in her shawl with her poor blind eyes, what did she feel, what was she thinking? Did she know that Beatrice was yawning and glancing at her watch? Did she know that we had come to visit her because we felt it right, it was a duty, so that when she got home afterwards Beatrice would be able to say, 'Well, that clears my conscience for three months?'

Did she ever think about Manderley? Did she remember sitting at the dining-room table, where I sat? Did she too have tea under the chestnut-tree? Or was it all forgotten and laid aside, and was there nothing left behind that calm, pale face of hers but little aches and little strange discomforts, a blurred thankfulness when the sun shone, a tremor when the wind blew cold?

I wished I could lay my hands upon her face and take the years away. I wished I could see her young, as she was once, with colour in her cheeks and chestnut hair, alert and active as Beatrice by her side, talking as she did about hunting, hounds, and horses. Not sitting there with her eyes closed while the nurse thumped the pillows behind her head...

... 'What a time you've been, Norah,' grumbled the old lady.
'Its only just turned the half-hour, Madam,' said Norah in a special voice, bright and cheerful like the nurse. I wondered if Maxim's grandmother realised that people spoke to her in this way. I wondered when they had done so for the first time, and if she had noticed then. Perhaps she had said to herself, 'They think I'm getting old, how very ridiculous', and then little by little she had become accustomed to it, and now it was as though they had always done so, it was part of her background. But the young woman with the chestnut hair and the narrow waist who gave sugar to the horses, where was she?"

Its raining in Zurich

2006-06-03T21:08:00.000-04:00

Its raining in Zurich.
There is mist in the hills. It must be beautiful, but I don’t know what’s there.

Its 2.15 in the morning. Its 8.15 in the morning. Its 9.15 in the morning? … no, 7.15. Zurich is an hour ahead of Britain.

Of course I did not sleep on the flight. My legs were twitchy and I did not know what to do with them.

I cried again. On the flight. T and B - my breaking points. I didn’t cry when I left Norwich for Edinburgh. Or when I left Edinburgh for New York. I don’t think I’ve ever cried because I’m leaving my family behind, or friends I have had for years and years. What are these tears? Is there something I have with these people that I don’t have elsewhere, or is it the drama of the thing? Of leaving New York. Of being there for such a short time. Of taking so long to leave. Maybe I’m not going to know for a while.

I hope it is not just drama and hormones.

Am I learning to love?

Blunt openness. A new honesty...

I think it is raining. I can’t really tell. Its definitely misty.
I don’t know what time it is. I’ve not been here before and I can’t see far beyond the runway. I know I’ve landed. And I’m about to board my connection.

Its raining and I’m wearing flip flops.

This airport is so relaxed. There are signs everywhere and they didn’t look that bothered at the x-ray machines. I think it would be pretty difficult to get lost here. There are signs everywhere.

graduation

2006-05-29T00:33:00.000-04:00

All I'm going to say is, STMs feel a little bit fake. Even though I have written more this year than I probably did in the whole of my undergrad... there is still something that seems a bit suspicious about getting a degree after one year.

But they do know how to graduate in style here. We were processed in with djembe drums and big fishes on sticks. And the speech was all about being peacemakers.

This is me and Dr James Cone. Hes pretty darn cool.

Oh, oh, oh... (its magic)

2006-05-11T15:15:00.000-04:00

Magic Kingdom here I come!

A whole lifetime of childhood dreams are awakening...

p.s. Is it wrong to fancy Aladdin?

King

2006-05-07T21:39:00.000-04:00

"America, I don't plan to let you rest until that day comes into being when all God's children will be respected, and every [hu]man will respect the dignity and worth of human personality. America, I don't plan to allow you to rest until from every city hall in this country, justice will roll down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream. America, I don't plan to let you rest until from every state house..., [people] will sit in the seat who will do justly, who will love mercy, and who will walk humbly before their God. America, I don't plan to let you rest until you live out that 'all [people] are created equal and endowed by their creator with certain inalienable rights.' America, I don't plan to let you rest until you believe what you have read in your Bible, that out of one blood God made all [people] to dwell upon the face of the earth." (Martin Luther King, Jr., 'Beyond Vietnam', 22nd March 1968)

... Britain, don't think you get off too lightly either.

sweet sadness, sad sweetness

2006-05-03T14:52:00.000-04:00

How am I going to leave this place?

Bonhoeffer

2006-05-01T01:25:00.000-04:00

..and the night BEFORE last night.... the gospel choir had a concert. Much goodness. It was also a night dedicated to Bonhoeffer, who, objecting to the Nazi party in WWII, decided to leave his place of safety here at Union and go back to Germany. He was captured and charged with treason for assisting Jews to escape Germany for Switzerland. He was killed in prison. A random connection possibly, but actually not- when he was here, Bonhoeffer went to a predominently black gospel church and loved the music. He saw something of the plight of the Jews in Germany, in the experiences of black people in America.

From Bonhoeffer’s 'Letters and Papers from Prison':

"Our relation to God is not a ‘religious’ relationship to the highest, most powerful, and best Being imaginable – that is not authentic transcendence – but our relationship to God is a new life in ‘existence for others,’ through participation in the being of Jesus. The transcendent is not infinite and unattainable tasks, but the neighbor who is in reach in any given situation."

Suddenly Seymour!

2006-05-01T00:47:00.000-04:00

Last night I was Audrey from Little Shop of Horrors, singing 'Suddenly Seymour'.... and a one of seven hookers looking for a Big Spender...

Then we all went to the on campus pub to celebrate with beer (obviously) and wheat thins (Britain, we are missing out).

Ah, Seminary.

powerless/ful paradox

2006-04-21T14:30:00.000-04:00

"The ultimate Christian paradox of God crucified in history under the Roman empire is that the love and justice that appear so weak may be strong, that seem so foolish may be wise, and that strike imperial elites as easily disposable may be inescapably indispensable." (Cornel West, 'Democracy Matters', p.214-215.)

devil-ish thoughts

2006-04-19T17:49:00.000-04:00

Of what are we more afraid? Of this elusive devil and its dangerous screwtape-letter-type-deception? Or of our own human tendency to this evil, to covet power and to exploit other people’s lives? Their time, their labour, their beliefs, their hopes, their fears.

We must needs be more afraid of ourselves. Of the reality of our love of self over God, over other, over justice and hope and love.

The externalisation of evil in the form of the devil, or of demonic forces, out to sway the innocent believer is a far more dangerous notion. I might even go so far as to say that this very externalization of evil, is the perfect soil for the growth of a very real humanly manifested evil. We don’t have to understand this in religious terms. It is about seeing the problems of our world as problems of other people, meaning we fail to deal with them in ourselves.

I was warned away from studying theology by many well meaning people because they believed that I might be lead into a secularist religiosity, and (gasp) even doubt, rather than being encouraged to love God with faith like a child.

But this very fear of learning is the biggest challenge to our integrity as Christians.

I don’t believe in the devil. I don’t know what ‘evil’ is. But I do know that Christianity has time and again been used to perpetuate systemic injustices. The crusades, slavery, the oppression of women, children raised in fear of divine punishment, the denial of the full humanity of people who make honest choices about who they love.

If we live in the fear of being manipulated by the devil, then we will be unwilling to learn about our own history, and we will lay ourselves open to a manipulation of a much more immediate kind.

Our decision whether to hear, to learn, to question, to faithfully doubt, must be motivated by a trust in a God (who is big enough) rather than a fear of the wisperings of some defeated devil.

P.S.

2006-04-19T15:47:00.000-04:00

This is Union Seminary... where I am studying and living (for only seven more weeks!). My American friends, Gawd blessem, say it is like Hogwarts. I daren't tell them that every other building in Edinburgh looks like this... Actually, thats a lie. I dare tell them. And I do. Though I try not to too regularly.

It is pretty cool.

I doesn't look like this just now though- the trees are blossoming pink and white, and it is starting to fall.

Spring.

Thankyouthankyouthankyou for Spring.

2006-04-18T23:24:00.000-04:00

2006-04-14T16:43:00.000-04:00

The thing about studying theology is, once you get to a certain stage, you realize that you have made a sacrifice. Forfeiting that innocence of ideas which allows you to hear incomplete and insufficient (and sometimes just downright incorrect) words as revelation from God. Its an openness to God that has been forsaken me. No longer can I sit in a service and cheerfully find the simple beauty of the Easter story. I sit and wait to see what they decide to include and exclude. “The sacrifices of the Jewish race were never enough,” I hear him say, and I despair at the innocence of these words spoken, causing not a ripple amongst the congregation, as I think of the damage such ideas have caused.

“Atonement for our sins, release from bondage, rescue: that is the message of the cross.” Is it? That sounds like a particularly Anselmian logic. (And thats not a good thing, by the way.) God made us well, but creation didn’t quite go according to plan and somehow we got into such a muddle, such a mess that God had to send in the reserves (cf. Jesus Christ, aka The Eternal Word) to bail us out. The message of the cross in individual metaphorical rescue… from… um… What about the suffering? Isn’t the cross also THE revelation of the love of God, of God’s eternal desire to be with those who suffer, and to transform that suffering, dying with them, and raising them up? At the end of time? After we die? Surely not. The Kingdom is close at hand. Those who suffer experience the depth of death even as they live. Should we not also therefore seek their resurrection in this life? There’s a contemporary worship song that goes, “Its all about you, Jesus. And all this is for you, for your glory and your name.” Whenever I hear this song, I hear people singing, “Its all about me, Jesus…” because that’s what I see. Dare I say that Jesus did not take up his cross; he took up the cross of the world; he took up his friends’ cross. What Would Jesus Do? Jesus lived, and died, so that other people could be resurrected. He lost all hope for himself, so that other people could find hope in the darkest of places. What Would Jesus Do?

Studying theology means losing something. It means losing a certain innocence about the words that we use to talk about something that is not owned by us, and which cannot be invulnerable to the lives of people who are crucified every day; in hunger, in poverty, in fear, in war, in pain, in hate… I have lost an openness. But I have lost it for the sake of gaining a different kind of openness. My role has changed. I can no longer hear without thinking of the consequences. I seek the problem as well as the gift. It doesn’t mean not hearing God. Sometimes I hear God in the most unlikely of sermons. It usually just means hearing God in more unusual places. And I must seek God out. In those others who are not seen or heard in my community. In those others who are not nourished and given space to be fully human, to be whole, because of the dogma of traditional values. In those others who are isolated, and who suffer, because of the world in which we live, and because of the words we speak. Because of the words I speak. When I listen to the sermon of another, my conscience interrupts my hearing. But I am that minister. We all speak. Some of us even dare to speak of God. I need to be interrupted.

2006-04-11T23:31:00.000-04:00

trusting something we cannot own

2006-04-11T23:24:00.000-04:00

"Always distrust anyone who rigidly follows the letter of God's word, for thus you will be plunged into a world of discord, and the Bible will lie at your feet a harp, broken, utterly without music for the sad or happy hours of life." (David Swing, 1874)

"Bible exegesis should rather be left open on all sides, not, as this demand was put by liberalism, for the sake of free thinking, but for the sake of a free Bible." (Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics 1:I, 4.2)

2006-04-08T00:01:00.000-04:00

blog blog blog

who made blog a verb?