Ten things to remember

This is something I wrote nearly ten years ago. You can tell that I had been reading a lot of self-help literature! I’d use more traditional Christian language these days, but I think it stands up OK:

THINGS TO REMEMBER

1. You are acceptable as you are. You do not have to be perfect to be acceptable. You are not a bad person. God does not make junk.

2. You are allowed to feel angry, and to express your anger in a direct and positive fashion. Real friends will not turn on you for showing your feelings.

3. You are allowed to take risks and make mistakes, for this is how you learn. If you don’t learn you cannot grow and develop. The world will not come to an end if you cock up. You also have the right to be forgiven for your mistakes.

4. You are not responsible for everyone else’s happiness. You do not have to put everything right, and if someone is making mistakes remember: they too have the right to live their life and learn. They too have the right to be forgiven by you.

5. You are allowed to say `No’ to things that you don’t desire, even if that means disappointing those you care about.

6. You are allowed to ask for help. Admitting weaknesses is accepting your humanity. It also requires more strength than covering up your fears and pain.

7. You are entitled to respect, as all people are. Remember to respect yourself though – people have a habit of accepting self-assessments, even if these are wildly off the mark. If you don’t show yourself respect, no one else will either.

8. You have the right to show your affection for people, men as well as women. Wanting to hug a male friend does not mean that you are gay. Physical contact is a good thing, a part of being human.

9. You are not responsible for making the world a perfect place. The world has already been saved once, and God is in a much better position to sort things out than you are.

10. You are a child of God. You are here for a purpose. Trust that God will reveal it to you when he is good and ready.

Insomnia

Sometimes I can’t sleep. Normally it happens when I haven’t had a chance to sit and contemplate for a few days, and I have a backlog of things to think about. This time, though, I think it’s just the effect of a bad cold. So I’ve been up since 4:30am. At least it means I wasn’t woken up by the kids!

I’m thinking of putting a few ‘here’s something I prepared earlier’ onto the blog. Watch this space.

Letting go of fantasy

Fantasy football that is. For the last ten years or so I’ve been playing Fantasy Football with a group of people I used to work with. If you go here you’ll see how I’ve done this year (although it’s a week out of date at time of writing. I didn’t win).

Thing is, I’m a Chelsea fan, so I’m not sure that there are going to be many years as satisfying as this one (first championship since before I was born), and there’s also the question of whether it’s ethically fitting to keep supporting a team built upon expropriated Russian assets, and where the board is led by someone like Peter Kenyon. All in all, time to take a break.

I also want to make room in my life for something else. I’ll still watch/ follow the footie – there are plans afoot to watch at least one of the world cup matches in Germany – but I want to actually play it a bit more often (as opposed to not playing it at all at the moment!) and put the time I had been putting to following particular players towards other ends. Like becoming the priest God has called me to be. I’ve got a long way to travel yet. Time to quit while I’m ahead.

The Tesco question

OK, this is a ‘thinking out loud’ post.

Tesco – the retail leviathan now claiming an astonishing percentage of British trade – has apparently purchased the coffee shop site on Barfield Road in Mersea, in order to build a new supermarket there. Is this a good thing? I cannot make up my mind.

Certainly, it will mean that those without access to cars are likely to get access to cheaper food. Chances are it will stock more organic veg than the co-op, which will make our home happier (although we’ve discovered the farm shop in Abberton which we like – great pistachio ice cream :o). It is also likely to drive some of the local shops to the wall, which, wearing my ‘community’ hat I worry about. But does that matter? Perhaps the local shops will just compete back on customer service. And what about the question of fair trade products? I preached a sermon a little while back advocating boycotting Tesco products, because they weren’t as pro-fair trade as the co-op, and then my wife took me shopping at the main Tesco’s, and I saw that I had been quite misled. There are lots of fair trade products at Tesco. And I’m comfortable with the idea of ‘trade not aid’ (which is why Live 8 is about justice not charity). So…. a good thing? A bad thing? I haven’t got a clue.

Fortunately, as one of my favourite theologians (Hauerwas) puts it, the church isn’t here to run the country, and make all the decisions. The church is here to help shape people with good characters, who then go and make the decisions themselves.

So I’ll stick to the question of character. Probably of more use in the long run anyway.

Day off. Ho ho.

Friday is day off. So I said Morning Prayer in church to cover until the new Assistant Priest takes up his duties, and then spent an hour or so working on the mechanics of the blog (hey, we now have atom and RSS feeds! And if you don’t know what that means, you’re in exactly the same position I was in 24 hours ago!) I also have some prayers to prepare for first thing tomorrow morning. But there you go, it’s not a job, it’s a vocation.

"The Monastery", Television, shallowness and liturgy

I enjoyed watching ‘The Monastery’ on BBC2 in recent weeks. It challenged a few of my prejudices, principally that TV can only be a purveyor of nonsense. I tend to see TV as entertaining (and therefore useful at the end of a long day), but it remains nonsense, by and large.

I’m influenced by Neil Postman’s book ‘Amusing ourselves to death’, in which he says that the medium (television, print, oral traditions etc) can determine the message (the content of what is said). For example, it is impossible to use smoke signals to discuss philosophy. The medium inhibits or prevents the transmission of certain forms of understanding.

Postman argues that the form of television is essentially passive, and that the logic of it as a medium tends to the novel and the visually stimulating, in other words that TV is good as a source of amusement, but very bad as a vehicle for serious ideas. And so, as TV has replaced the printed word as the primary vehicle for society’s conversation about itself, so the society has become characterised by a loss of seriousness, a shallowness, a cultural impoverishment. Hence we are ‘amusing ourselves to death’ – for a shallow culture does not develop the resources with which to sustain itself. Postman thinks that Huxley was the more accurate prophet, rather than Orwell, and that TV is the ‘soma’ which pacifies the populace, whilst those in power indulge their schemes, whilst any potential for democratic oversight has been removed, simply because a people reared on a diet of TV no longer have the capacity to seriously attend to difficult issues.

In passing, Postman remarks that Christianity is a serious and demanding religion, and he points out how the values of TV will necessarily corrupt a community and culture which has historically been built around oral and written traditions. This is what leads to the demand for interesting ‘spectacle’ in church services, and the complaint that church is ‘boring’. What that means is that a person whose taste has been formed by television finds a traditional church service profoundly alien. What the church is called to do is to educate itself as to what it is doing. For Scripture and the liturgy cannot be replaced by forms that have been constructed by a televisual culture. The message itself is lost, and the church, rather than standing over against the wider society, simply becomes another niche market competing against all the other lifestyle options. Living as a Christian reduces to a matter of purchasing the right CD or car sticker.

The real role of liturgy, our common worship, is the formation of character. Christ replaced one form of service with another, the temple was cast down and rebuilt in three days in his body. So the character that we are called to form is eucharistic – the practice of sharing a meal together, in his memory, in thanksgiving, this is what makes us who we are. The Eucharist makes the church. And this is difficult. It will be experienced as alien, and possibly as oppressive. But we cannot make it any easier without undoing ourselves, without abandoning our faith, without becoming ashamed of the gospel.

“The Monastery” worked, I feel, because it told the human story of people caught up in the world, who are then immersed in precisely that traditional, liturgical culture. And it changed all of them. But what most struck me was a comment made by the Abbot at the end; that it had restored some of the self-confidence of the community. Even in the strongholds of liturgical worship, the technologically amplified voice of the culture shouts so loudly that the faithful quiver, and begin to doubt.

But the tide has turned, and the world knows that it has lost something precious. What we must do is hold fast to what we have received. Mt 10.22

Singing the world into life

I’ve recently started reading CS Lewis’ Narnia Chronicles, having only read Lion, Witch etc as a child. They’re good fun, but a long way from Middle Earth in every sense. But I like the image of Aslan singing Narnia into life – a more animated vision of ‘God spoke and it was so’.

The Church Fathers said that a prayer was twice as effective if it was sung, presumably because it involved more of you than simply saying a word or two.

Which is why sung liturgy is so essential, of course. All we can do is sing. We can’t earn our salvation, all we can do is sing in thanksgiving.

What though my joys and comforts die?
The Lord my Savior liveth;
What though the darkness gather round!
Songs in the night He giveth:
No storm can shake my inmost calm
While to that refuge clinging;
Since Christ is Lord of heaven and earth,
How can I keep from singing?
(Robert Lowry, 1860)