How to resist: a decision made on holiday

I have been in Cordoba, pondering the Reconquista. One interim conclusion of my reflections is that I’m going to drop the word ‘Islam’ from the title of this sequence, and I’m going to go back and edit it out of previous elements. This is for three reasons.

Firstly, I have no wish to be arrested for airing opinions that are ‘legal but harmful’. On the whole I find the present political situation in the UK unbearably toxic, and I have much that I would like to share – look out for something long called ‘After Southport’ which I’ll finish writing once I’m back from Greenbelt – but I’m not going to be reckless in what I write. I’d never support rioting or attacking mosques or refugee centres, but I don’t trust the bubble and the servants of the bubble to see that, so I’m going to try to be exquisitely precise and clear. In particular nothing that I shall be writing is ever to be taken as advocating a breach of the King’s Peace. The preservation of the King’s Peace, the maintenance of the rule of law applied to all without fear or favour, it is on this that our whole civilisation (British and Christian) is built.

However, if that was my only concern then I might not change things. So the second element in wanting to remove the word Islam from the title is that I don’t want to do anything which adds to the scapegoating process. As I have said repeatedly the logical endpoint of the path that we have embarked upon is inter-ethnic and inter-religious strife when it will be the task of the Christian to defend the ones that society will scapegoat. I’m expecting that to be the Islamic community. I thought the way that Bristol residents surrounded the Mercure hotel (to defend it) was a good demonstration of what we will need to do, when the crises come. And come they will, increasingly, and more violently, for so long as the tragedy of the modern left plays out. I remain convinced that as an ideology, Islam is pernicious – but in a situation of civil conflict those concerns (and I will still write about those concerns) are beside the point. We protect the vulnerable.

Which leads to the third thing, and what I was most conscious of whilst in Cordoba. Islam is expanding in Britain because it is expanding into a spiritual vacuum. What I most want is to renew the historic spiritual centre of this land. England has only ever been a Christian nation (that is, Christianity in England predates the establishment of England as a nation). If we were spiritually robust then we would have no need to fear Islam, our spiritual immune system would be able to cope. So I am more persuaded that the locus of ‘resistance’ needs to change. It is the Starmtroopers, both physical and spiritual, that we need to tackle as a higher priority.

Spelling out what that means remains the burden of this sequence.

~

I’ve been saying this for a very long time. In searching for something else I came upon this Remembrance Day sermon from 2010:

20101114 Remembrance Sunday

We have gathered together today to remember before God those who have gone before us, who gave their lives in war in order that those whom they loved would be saved.

In the news this morning the newly appointed Chief of the Defence Staff is alleged to have said that defeating Islamic militancy – the enemy against whom our armed forces are presently fighting – that defeating them was “unnecessary and could never be achieved”. Now I know that the Telegraph cannot always be trusted in its reporting, so I don’t want to focus my remarks upon General Richards himself. I would however like to say a few words about the attitude that those words express, because, even if they are not a faithful report of General Richards’ views, I’m sure they do reflect the views of other people in this country.

To begin with, it is, of course true, that an ideology cannot be defeated on the battlefield. Particular expressions of an ideology can be – as was the case in the Second World War – but an ideology itself cannot be defeated by physical force. So in that sense of ‘can never be achieved’ I understand the point that is being made. Yet what is missed, so it seems to me, is the truth that ideologies can be defeated in their own terms; that is, they can be shown to be false if they can be shown not to achieve what they claim to achieve – and it is that, so it seems to me, which is our task.

In the case of Islamic militancy, the central claim is that the Western world is in a state of barbaric ignorance, cut off from God, as a result of which people cannot flourish. In contrast to that, those who have embraced Islam, most especially through accepting Sharia law, are able to flourish in their lives. The armed struggle is undertaken as a struggle to advance human liberty and happiness – throwing off barbaric regimes that destroy people physically and spiritually, and exchanging that state for one in which true human freedom is established. The argument is not, therefore, between one side that seeks freedom and well-being, and another that resists those things, but rather a struggle between different visions of what human freedom and well-being actually are.

Islamic militancy is a view which has very deep roots, going back at least two hundred and fifty years to the Reform movement in Saudi Arabia known as Wahhabism, and taken forward by others. It long predates the establishment of Israel, or the Western invasion of Iraq or Afghanistan, and we would be gravely mistaken if we ever thought that withdrawing from Afghanistan, or abandoning Israel, would solve our problems. Most importantly Islamic militancy is not a trivial ideology, and we must not dismiss it trivially, nor is it one which does not contain any truth. In criticising the West, they are right to point out the ways in which we fall short of God’s intentions for us – because we do – and there is in fact a very great deal of overlap between the critique of our society given by the Islamist militants, and that given by faithful Christians. There is also, of course, a very great deal of difference between what is seen as the solution.

For we do still live in a place where we are free to pursue a Christian faith, even if that freedom is starting to break down at the edges. Whatever our concerns about being allowed to wear a cross if you are working for British Airways, or whether you will lose your job as a nurse if you offer to pray with a patient, we are not like the church in Baghdad that was recently attacked by Islamic militants, with great loss of life. And we have that privilege for the simple reason that people have struggled for it – struggled with force of arms, and struggled spiritually. The greatest victories for Christian faith were won by the martyrs of the first centuries, who would rather have been fed to the lions than renounce their Saviour. They were the ones who demonstrated the true nature of freedom, who demonstrated what it meant to live an abundant life, and it is their spirit that we need to emulate.

The only lasting victory over Islamic militancy will come from demonstrating that we are not a Godless society, and that, in pursuing God to the best of our abilities, as we have known him revealed in Christ, we show in our lives what it means to live as free and flourishing human beings. And what does that mean in practice? What is it that I am actually saying we need to do? To answer that, I would like to share with you a passage from St Paul’s letter to the Romans. St Paul writes:

“Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality. Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited. Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is noble and right in the eyes of everyone. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,” says the Lord. On the contrary: “If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.” Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”

We will not overcome the ideology of Islamic militancy by simply fighting suicide vests with cluster bombs. We will overcome it by remembering what it is that those we remember today fought for, remembering it and renewing our commitment to it – that is, the values of a Christian civilisation – which is one that takes those words of St Paul seriously. Let us not be overcome with evil, but let us overcome evil with good. Those we remember today fought and died in order that we might enjoy the freedom to pursue a Christian life in peace – so let us honour their sacrifice by renewing our commitment to our Christian inheritance, trusting in the God who sent his Son, not to condemn the world, but that the whole world might be saved through Him. Amen.

Living with lacunae

I’ve recently had cause to ponder situations where my need to understand something has been bouncing up against limits. Where it has become clear that there is no explanation to be had, that, instead, wisdom requires a living with the absence of an explanation – what philosophers call a lacuna, a gap in the understanding. I think this is healthy, but it has made me reflect on some areas in my life where I have come to what I now think of as premature certainty, a premature closing off of the gap, a refusal to live with the lacunae.

Two examples from the United States, as they are matters far from my daily life, and therefore quite clearly areas where there is no need for me to seek any certainty, where it is easiest.

The first is the collapse of WTC7. This does not make sense to me. The official explanation is that it was brought down by fire. The official explanation has been proven false. To an outside observer it looks very like a controlled demolition, but positing a controlled demolition requires a large amount of other hypotheses which very rapidly enter into the realms of madness. If I ponder this for too long then I end up in a place of extreme cognitive dissonance. So now I say: I don’t know what happened. I don’t understand what happened. It’s a gap.

The second is the 2020 election. I remember when it happened thinking that it was odd, and in particular I remember the fact that 18 of the 19 hitherto ‘bellwether’ counties had voted for Trump, so Biden winning in that context seemed very odd (the conventional explanation for that oddness is here). The ‘down the rabbit-hole’ explanation is here. Pondering the way in which US elections are carried out – and the role of the ‘voting machines’ – makes me think that, if there isn’t fraud, that is a result of divine grace rather than a robust system. I have no idea what the truth is. I don’t know what happened. I don’t understand what happened. It’s a gap.

I’m coming to see that desire for premature certainty as the high road to delusion (and also all sorts of conflicts), and I interpret it now in the light of lateral hemispheres. The desire for certainty is a sign of left-hemisphere capture, a hall of mirrors. Whereas sitting with paradox, with ignorance, with acknowledged lacunae – this is the way.

I am slowly becoming healthy again. Thanks be to God.

On needing to be opened by the wonderful

Help comes
When you need it most
I’m cured by laughter
Mood swings – not sure I can cope
My life’s in plaster (In plaster)

May your mind set you free (Be opened by the wonderful)
May your heart lead you on
May your mind let you be through all disasters (Be opened by the wonderful)
May your heart lead you on

These wounds are all self-imposed
Life’s no disaster
All roads lead onto death row
Who knows what’s after

May your mind be wide open
May your heart beat strong
May your minds will be broken
By this heartfelt song

(and this is a very good description of the left-brain’s need for the right-brain…)

So that was 2023


Well now. What a wonderful year. Can I have another one please?

A year of solid progression at work, and with the PhD.
A year in which I started writing properly again – outward facing stuff on the substack, personal musings here.
A year dominated by the sabbatical – and in which I listened to a lot of James!
A year in which I had some proper quality time with each of my children.
A year which finished with my getting engaged
God is good.
I am filled with optimism, excitement and determination for 2024. Avanti cosmos!

Previous years: 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022.

Tearing down the hedges

Recently at Morning Prayer I read Isaiah 5, which describes God’s judgement upon faithless Israel, and it gives this description of God’s wrath:

“Now I will tell you
what I am going to do to my vineyard:
I will take away its hedge,
and it will be destroyed;
I will break down its wall,
and it will be trampled.”

I keep musing on the link between boundaries and holiness. We see, daily, more and more evidence of the collapse of virtue in our society, the moral bankruptcy that causes chaos and disorder. So I think: is the lack of boundaries a result of this collapse, or does the collapse flow from the removal of the boundaries? The hedges around the West have been destroyed and now we are being trampled. We are in the place of After Virtue – and, as the man said, the barbarians have been governing us for quite some time.

How to rebuild the boundaries? How to reclaim virtue? This has been my avatar (or one of them) for a few years now:

Of low moments

So, I have my low moments.

On Saturday night I came across this reel on Instagram which well articulated how I was feeling. I found it comforting, in the same way that I like Leonard Cohen’s songs which many people find miserable! It helps me to understand and gain distance.

That morning I had read my friend Jamie’s discussion of accidie (acedia), that rang many bells with me. It’s good to be reminded of the perennial struggle with our demons, and accidie is certainly one of mine. So perhaps the demon of despair had been roused to attack because Jamie’s post had let some light in past the accreted crust of accidie. There was certainly no reason in what had happened that day for me to feel low, quite the opposite in fact.

Anyhow, on Sunday morning, during the intercessions (read by a colleague) I was reflecting on the struggle, and just at the time when I was doing so the intercessor prayed for those ‘close to despair’, and I laughed (inwardly, of course, I am English). It was as if the Lord was channelling Delboy and saying ‘you plonker Rodney!

I don’t believe in coincidence. Either all is meaningful or nothing is. So the Lord gave me a poke, and blessed be the name of the Lord.

Something quoted in Jamie’s post: Finally, the essential remedy is perseverance, in Greek hypomonē, which is a very active thing. It is an appeal, an increase of fidelity. When you are in a tunnel and you see nothing at all, it is advisable to remain near the handrail; otherwise, without noticing it, you will wander off and get turned around. The handrail is fidelity to one’s rule of life. Perseverance sometimes consists of remaining without doing anything, or else, on the contrary, doing everything that one did not think one had come to do. But ultimately, little matters. What does matter is to endure. As another saying puts it: “If you are hungry, eat; if you want to sleep, sleep; but do not leave your cell!”

The handrail is fidelity to one’s rule of life. Once more unto the breach, dear friends! Once more!

On the need to understand the gospel

Here is a confession. I struggle with some of the language used around the gospel.
(OK, not much of a confession)

So I came across the above image on Twitter, with the tag-line “Believe on the Son for everlasting life”.

Now before going further, I should clarify, I think this is true. I do think that if we believe in the Son then we have everlasting life (I’d rather say eternal life – everlasting is a bit too much of a Protestant emphasis for me).

What challenges me is that, whether it is simply a matter of temperament or philosophical training (I feel like an honourary Missourian) – I really need to know the answer to the question ‘why?’ In other words, why believe on the Son? How does it work? What am I being saved from? (As Florence sings: He died for what?)

The thing is, there is an answer to that question. Jesus died to save the world from the power of the evil one. Salvation is to be set free from the fear of death and those who resort to the fear of death to get their way, ie the prince of this world and all those who conform to the ways of the world. To believe in Christ is to know a peace that this world cannot give – and so on and so forth.

There IS an answer to my questions in other words. It’s just that I find those answers more compelling than ‘believe in Jesus!’ – however true I also think that to be.

Such are my musings this day.

All that music has meant

Possibly my favourite Wittgenstein remark (of at least 20 contenders for that title): “It has been impossible for me to say one word in my writing about all that music has meant to me in my life. How then can I hope to be understood?” (that’s from memory, so may not be word perfect)

I feel the same way, always have. Yet one of the wonders about McGilchrist’s work (I’ll be referring to him a lot this year) is that it provides a way of getting a handle on what is going on. Put simply the form of attention that we give to music is an attention rooted in the right hemisphere, whereas the critical thinking about it is rooted in the left hemisphere.

I think there is a moment in Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance where Pirsig is discussing jazz and gets told ‘man, if you have to ask the question you won’t understand the answer’.

So music for me – and, more broadly, poetry, humour, fantasy, immersion in nature, also worship (liturgy) when it is done right – all these are ways of immersing myself into the more deeply human forms of life; or, to phrase that from the opposite side, they are ways of escaping the tyranny of the discursive, detached, verbal intellect, the left-hemisphere forms of attention.

In a word, music is a major part of how I pray, how I bring balance to my emotional life. Whereof one cannot speak 😉

I don’t listen to classical music half as much as I used to, although I expect that to change back again over time. I discover that I really enjoy jazz, and I really, really enjoy live music. At the moment I am discovering the band James – one of their songs will be written up as the ‘song of my sabbatical’ in a few weeks time – but this one is rather good, with a very clever video:

Spiritual journalling

My writing output here has, in the last few years, declined to almost nothing. I put that down mostly to being depressed since 2009 or so (and that depression fed into further trauma which made more depression and so on). Yet I’ve been moving in the right direction for a few years now and this sabbatical has really accelerated that process. I feel able to write again.

I am on substack here and I plan to use that avenue for work-related, ‘public’ writing – so material related to my PhD research, church issues, and commentary on cultural collapse. (Some of the PhD work can’t be published yet, but when it can be it will go there).

Here I plan to resume my spiritual journalling, as I think that will help me emerge from my long melancholic slumber; hopefully it will also allow me to be more gracious in my writing as a whole.
I am minded to try and write something every day, sometimes – often! – something very short, but we shall see how it goes. There will be a little cross-posting with the substack, but not much.

For now, here is a picture, which I think is a fair representation of where I am ?