About Elizaphanian

Rector of West Mersea

A li’l post about Peak

First, watch this:

So this is Simmons calling Peak Oil as hitting now, and this is a first (for him – people like Deffeyes have already done so).

I think I’m persuaded. Most of the voices in the PO aware community are still talking about it being a few years off (2010/2012), and whilst it is certainly true that there is more coming on-stream, the rate of decline is surprising people. The wild card remains Saudi Arabia, and how far their production decline is involuntary – and how much might be, for example, tied up with preparing for the US attack on Iran, coming along shortly.

However, the li’l thought running around my brain at the moment is that there is a lot of resilience built in to western economies which will slow the impact, and provide time for adjustments. The focus will be on transport, primarily personal and commuter; I don’t see any western government allowing farming, for example, to be hit any time soon. So first the optional travelling will be curtailed; then there will be sharing of commuting; then there will be a progressive shift away from cars themselves and towards the healthier options, eg bicycling. The latter might seem unreal, but after a few years of the earlier progressions it will just seem thoroughly normal. The trains will still be running, and for several years – maybe even a decade? – life will seem workable and doable on the old model, we’ll ‘just’ be experiencing a long recession. The West has time, but it means that the ‘hit’ of direct shortages will be that much more severe when it comes, if we haven’t prepared for it.

What will happen, though, is that the people in the middle will get thoroughly squeezed. The 2bn or so of the world’s population that are not presently directly dependent on oil will remain largely untouched; the rich 1bn or so will have time to adapt, more or less. What’s going to happen to that middle 3.5bn though, and what are they going to do about it? Those who have climbed on to the capitalist bandwagon, but will be priced out of the energy market, and priced out rather abruptly?

This is why Mexico is the country to watch. It’s own oil production is crashing, and there are all sorts of related effects working their way through the system.

“Mexico is in the grip of the worst tortilla crisis in its modern history. Dramatically rising international corn prices, spurred by demand for the grain-based fuel ethanol, have led to expensive tortillas…Tortilla prices have tripled or quadrupled in some parts of Mexico since last summer. On Jan. 18, Calderón announced an agreement with business leaders capping tortilla prices at 78 cents per kilogram, or 2.2 pounds, less than half the highest reported prices. The president’s move was a throwback to a previous era when Mexico controlled prices — the government subsidized tortillas until 1999, at which point cheap corn imports were rising under the NAFTA trade agreement. It was also a surprise given his carefully crafted image as an avowed supporter of free trade.”

A Christian perspective on horror

Very intriguing interview with Scott Derrickson, director of ‘The Exorcism of Emily Rose’, here (courtesy of Peter Chattaway, one of my very regular blog-reads). Articulates much of what I think about horror:

In my opinion, the horror genre is a perfect genre for Christians to be involved with. I think the more compelling question is, Why do so many Christians find it odd that a Christian would be working in this genre? To me, this genre deals more overtly with the supernatural than any other genre, it tackles issues of good and evil more than any other genre, it distinguishes and articulates the essence of good and evil better than any other genre, and my feeling is that a lot of Christians are wary of this genre simply because it’s unpleasant. The genre is not about making you feel good, it is about making you face your fears. And in my experience, that’s something that a lot of Christians don’t want to do, unfortunately.

And that has been my experience as a Christian through much of my life. To me, the horror genre is the genre of non-denial. It’s about admitting that there is evil in the world, and recognizing that there is evil within us, and that we’re not in control, and that the things that we are afraid of must be confronted in order for us to relinquish that fear. And I think that the horror genre serves a great purpose in bolstering our understanding of what is evil and therefore better defining what is good. And of course I’m talking about, really, the potential of the horror genre, because there are a lot of horror films that don’t do these things. It is a genre that’s full of exploitation, but the better films in the genre certainly accomplish, I think, very noble things.

Much more of interest in the interview itself.

Understanding comics (Scott McCloud)


This was excellent and very stimulating, tho’ I radically disagree with his Cartesian account of communication in one of the end chapters. Something to read if you think comics are only for children.

Has renewed my intention to write a long sequence on Neil Gaiman’s Sandman sequence, and the narrative theology embedded within that work. Might happen in the summer 😉

While Europe slept (Bruce Bawer)


A gay American who emigrated to Holland, then Norway, to escape Protestant fundamentalism, discovers that the nascent Islamofascism is much much worse. Very good and interesting; journalistic in a positive way, but it didn’t really tell me anything that I wasn’t basically aware of. Just sharpens the decision making process…

Our duty and our joy

This is by way of a response to Jeff’s comment. Let’s begin with a story.

In August of 2005 West Mersea had a new window installed. As you can imagine there were all sorts of events associated with this, and lots of preparation and hard work for the event itself. In particular there was a Saturday evening meal and a full Sunday quota of services which I was involved with.

So come the Monday, the Bank Holiday Monday, I was knackered. There was a festival concert in church that night, but I told people that I wasn’t going to it, so the Bank Holiday was effectively a day off for me. And it was a great day – I relaxed a lot, after the success of the weekend, and as a family we spent a leisurely afternoon clearing out our garage that had become seriously cluttered. Most crucially, my wife recalls it as being one of the best days of that year, in that I was ‘present’ and engaged with domestic needs. It was fun.

Sadly, there was a significant amount of hostility to my choice not to attend the concert, and as well as the various ‘mutterings’ it was raised at the PCC meeting the following week, with the question ‘What is Sam doing with his time?’ Which provoked much soul-searching and angst in me, and you can read more about it here (which recent arrivals might also like to read, if you haven’t read it before; you’ll certainly learn a bit more about me and what makes me tick!) The positive side of that episode was that it forced me to come ‘up front’ about my deafness, and I believe there has been lots of good fruit since, within the parish.

Thing is, it really keyed in to my sense of duty, and it is precisely this sense of duty which I have been slowly sloughing off. The deep root of it, I’m sure, lies in the vocation experience in that summer of 1995, and an overwhelming conviction that I was ‘bad’. Yet I don’t, deep down, believe it. What I believe is what I describe here – the prior and foundational experience of the love of God. Yet this habit of duty is tenacious – I think it is only the experience of burning out that has started to dislodge it – that I stopped believing in it a while back, but still my habits of mind and behaviour are formed from it.

One of the really intriguing things about the whole discussion is that, if you pursue a vocation, it no longer makes sense to talk about ‘work’. If I pick up a book of theology, for example, I take tremendous pleasure from reading it. If I have time to work on a sermon, that too gives me great delight. Presiding at the Eucharist is joy. Teaching the Learning Church is a context in which I can be entirely myself, and that is precious liberty.

The problem I have had, I think, is in experiencing so much of the workload precisely as ‘duty’. To have my choices formed by the internalised voice saying ‘what is Sam doing with his time?’ – the need to justify myself before an angry God (before an angry PCC member!). Yet I really don’t believe in that, in fact, I repudiate it vehemently. Physician, heal thyself!

I think it’s happening. The response to the episode of burn out was precisely to consider the colour of my shirt. For black is the colour of duty, and that is what needs to be let go of. Bring out the peacock!

MadPriest’s advice is very sound (so are many of the other voices) – to abandon particular aspects of work completely, tho’ it’ll need to move forward slowly. More crucially, it is to really emphasise the teaching side of things. If God really has given me something to say, then it would be wrong to ignore the call to say it. That’s why Willimon’s words were so appropriate for me today – it articulated precisely what I have been struggling with.

The work, the vocation, is not a duty, it is a joy. Perhaps when it is not joyful, that in itself is a sign that I am not pursuing my vocation properly. Enthusiasm – on which I have preached several times – being filled with my God.

I think what this means is that I need to structure many more Bank Holiday Mondays – and damn those damnable voices of duty.

Or, put differently, I need to give myself more opportunities to take photos like this:

Some words meant for me

“If God gives you a word for God’s people, for God’s sake, say it!”
(William Willimon here.)

Also, at the minister’s group discussing Hauerwas and Willimon’s ‘Resident Aliens’ the expression ‘have a burning heart for…’ was used. That resonated.

As did this from the text itself:
“Our claim is not that this tradition will make sense to anyone or will enable the world to run more smoothly. Our claim is that it just happens to be true. This really is the way God is. This really is the way God’s world is.”