Matt

As Roger the vet drove away from the house, carrying Matt's lifeless form in the back of his car, a solitary Magpie flew down the path behind him. "One for sorrow."

Let's start in the right place. Which might be Blackpool, which is where Matt & I met just over ten years ago, but actually I mean  - with gratitude through the tears.

Matt has been the most wonderful gift in my life. When I lost Charlie, I knew I had to fill that space and find someone else immediately. I couldn't cope without. And then came Matty - and others said he was scatty, nervy, I should take him back. He wasn't Charlie, I was told. Well, they were right about the last bit.

He wasn't Charlie, and that was good. He was, however, perfect. Perfect for me. And as I loved him he transformed into the most affectionate dog. Never a boisterous, off-the-wall Springer, he could turn the energy on. But then he'd be as happy to potter as to jump.

Though he had a great jump. I think it was those enormous paws of his. Really huge paws for a dog his size. And when he jumped, all four paws off the ground, you knew why they call them 'Springers'!

Some dogs love company. Matt would acknowledge the door bell (never by barking, just by going to the door to see who was there) and then get really excited when people left. Hooray! They're going! As if life began when it was just him & me.

In a way, it did. Him & me in the car. Him & me as I worked from home. Him & me as he slept. Him and me as I slept. Him & me as he ate - he wouldn't eat if I walked away, he wanted me there. He never caught a ball in his life; he didn't take his eyes off me long enough to see the ball existed.

And he re-defined the term "creature of habit", which gave us one or two challenges when we moved. We went back to Ponty, six months after leaving, and Matt went round Ponty park & stopped in every one of his old spots. When you take him somewhere new, his tail stays down, his confidence low. When he is somewhere he knows, his tail goes high, his confidence higher. That day, so many months after leaving, his tail was up and wagging.

I need to thank his vets, principally Simon & latterly Roger. He was a pedigree showdog; his health was complex. He had excellent care. When his kidney disease was diagnosed nearly two and a half years ago, I didn't dare dream we'd have all this time. I thought I'd lost him at Christmas. The more-than five months since then have been a wonderful bonus.

I need to thank his friends, the many people who welcomed him into home & heart. He loved you all.

I need to say that at the end he had stopped eating. One or two very special things still persuaded him, but they caused him great pain, and I had to make a choice. I did not let him suffer. Charlie suffered too much. Matt was spared that. I took him last night so that my Mum might see him one last time, and this morning he got to be in the crowd as the Olympic torch passed by. Then I drove home. Roger came to the house, and Matt slipped quietly away.

Let's end in the right place. Matt & I used to live next to a church. Yesterday we walked to the churchyard across the road and together gave thanks for the life we have shared. Gratitude through the tears. He was my heart, my life, my constant shadow and ceaseless companion. He was the most wonderful gift; and today I had to give him back.  

Matt. Matty. Matthew, when I was being strict. Jonobar the Matchmaker on his pedigree certificate.

My sweet, sweet boy.

beyond words

This picture was taken just a few short years ago at my cousin Howard's wedding to his lovely wife Ruth.

On the left is my Uncle Michael, then my Aunty Joyce, Aunty Judith and finally on the right my Dad. Four siblings together. I took the picture.

Joyce was the first to go. Michael died two years ago now. Today my Dad called me to say Judith has passed away.

Life is sweet and fragile and glorious and precious. We have this gift and share it with one another, and bless and damage each other in roughly equal measure, hoping the blessings win out in the end. So often we fail to tell those close to us that the blessings triumph, and that we are grateful. So often, they know, and are more blessed by us than we realise. They forgot to say so too.

That my cousin Howard, whose Dad died the best part of twenty years ago, has now lost his mother, and that my Dad now has no brother or sisters leaves me beyond words. I've spoken to both and can't remember a thing we said. I hope they know how much I love them both.

I'm the one with the public faith around our family. That doesn't give me answers. It gives me someone to wipe my tears, listen to my sorrow, and show me that hope has not gone though those we love are here no more. I believe in a God who loves people. Loves me, loves my family on days like these, and sits with us as we don't know what to say or do. Hope traces rainbows through the rain, because when we hold his hand, we somehow understand we hold the hand that also carries those who have gone before to a life that we cannot imagine. We simply cannot imagine.

But we can hope, even if the hope remains, for now, beyond words.

re-covering

I had an op on my back in February.

Last week, the lump I had removed re-appeared, re-covering the same area that was so viciously cut and torn out four months ago. The healing took weeks. The unhealing, hours.

To be fair I was told the problem might recur. It has a name. I looked it up just now & recoiled. The stories I read were worse than mine. I had the lump maybe two and a half years before the op. Others talk of much longer. And of several ops. And several recovery periods. There's a one in four thousand chance you have this too. Last week, thanks to this problem, I discovered pain the like of which I have never known.

I almost headed to A&E (the ER for US readers) for a quick resolution; the medical centre opted for horse drugs instead. Feeling groovy & in pain was, in retrospect, the better call. The pain is subsiding.

And through it all, I work. I had three days off, but worked from home as best as I could for most of those days. I had reports to do; or, rather, one big one. It still needs finishing. Most of my job involves reconnecting with people, and if I can't travel, I can't do this. This is the worst kind of thing to be stuck with for this kind of work. For any kind of work. The doctor I saw said, "I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy". I tried to think of who my worst enemy might be. He followed that observation up with, "it's an awful thing to have hanging around your neck". I replied that I'd prefer to have it hanging around my neck to where it actually is.

I'm not sure that's true.

Our bodies are wonderful things. Curious, fragile, glorious, fearless. Beyond price and able to make us feel quite worthless.

"How are you?" I have been asked a hundred times today.

Better than on Friday. Not entirely myself. Recovering.

one more once

One more once. It seems I'm either writing something controversial or marking the passing of a friend these days.

Nothing controversial here.

Byron Jones was a one-off. The kind of bloke who made me look tall. A genuine Big Band enthusiast - so much so he formed his own, and kept it running for, oh, thirty years. Give or take. He knew what he liked (Stan Kenton. Anything by Stan Kenton.) And what he didn't. (Glenn Miller. Everything by Glenn Miller.)

Though for the past few years, Malcolm Jenkins softened old Byron up, and his band played some excellent Miller arrangements... I think Byron even secretly enjoyed them. Sometimes...

He loved that band. He loved it when it would up & swing & punch you in the gut. When it would get a Basie number just right. When a soloist would find the groove - Jeff Salter, Gareth Roberts, Gethin Liddington, Emily Beck. You'd see him purr.

Like all true Big Band leaders, he never quite liked singers, which was my association with the band (I was also a failed pianist with them - one rehearsal was all I got). Though Henry, the wonderful Henry Newman, was a lifelong friend, and forgiven many things for the glories of that tone of his.

Byron would typically introduce a song with an anecdote, a witticism, a cryptic comment. And then hum a few bars that gave him the tempo. Regulars would know what was coming from those little vocalisings. Flight of the Foo Birds always has Byron's voice on it whenever I hear it; and I can hear it now.

George Wilson got me a gig with Byron. George was Byron's drummer for many years, and an unfailing support to Byron and Merle, who is much in our thoughts today. There are very many that will miss this wonderful man - and his music, his humour, his occasional obstinacy and strange ways, his very personal taste and his championing of a musical form that needs champions like this. Running a Big Band is hard work. Byron made it seem like anyone could do it. That's a master at work, that is, right there.

Now he's with the angels. Humming a few bars. Counting them in. And they're swinging...

awkward

The Church of England Evangelical Council today published an irenic, finely argued, biblically articulate monograph on the issue of same-sex marriage. Well, that's their description...

I am certainly awarding them marks for very high class self-publicity!

What the statement did was re-state a familiar position: though it does so very well, and breaks it down into five points.
1. Love is at the heart of all we do (but that doesn't mean anything goes)
2. The Church is subject to the Scripture & can't just re-write it when it's a problem
3. Marriage in the Scripture is one man, one woman, exclusive of all others, for life, with children usually attached. This is God-ordained so the state can't alter it.
4. True faith leads a holy life - sex in a marriage context, abstinence otherwise, no exceptions, repentance possible.
5. The Church is the place where God's people live by God's word; if people change the rules on marriage, they break his word & this is a reason to see them as beyond fellowship.

Full text here.

In the introduction, and in the many commendations from many good people, there is much said about how this is a very full & helpful statement about the traditional, Anglican, evangelical position on marriage. Irenic. Finely argued. Biblically articulate. There is room made to include gay and lesbian people in conversation.

But I have a question.

(Just one?)

No really, just one. It goes to methodology.

Now - before I get there, I need to make a disclaimer. Because I know many people who read this blog, and I can only imagine many of the rest of you, and I don't want anyone to think I am (in what follows) being pastorally insensitive. Please - what comes next is an exercise in rhetorical logic. I am doing this to demonstrate a fundamental - fundamental - flaw in the CEEC's document which is nowhere addressed in their document today. I made this point in a video recently. I make it again now.

In ethics, everyone wears blinkers. There is no level ground. The only level ground there can be is to understand that there is no level ground. We all have life experience and that life experience shapes how we handle Scripture. There is within humanity a normal predisposition to be more understanding to "people like me" than to "others". Seeing this sometimes helps us remember grace. Grace is good.

So my question, my one question, to the authors of the CEEC document on marriage & same sex marriage on St Matthias Day is -

What about divorce?

You see, if I apply to divorce everything that is applied in this document to the issue of same-sex marriage, then this is what I find.

"I hate divorce" Malachi 2.16. Men weep because God does not accept their offerings; why does he not accept them? Because they have divorced the women God joined them to. They have been faithless. So he has rejected them.

"Anyone who divorces his wife, except for marital unfaithfulness, causes her to become an adulteress, and anyone who marries the divorced woman commits adultery". Matt 5.32 Jesus speaking. Couldn't be clearer. Only one exception, and it doesn't include rape or abuse or neglect. It certainly rules out anyone marrying anyone who has ever been divorced. Once married, always married (unless the partner dies, obviously).

In Matthew 19 Jesus goes further. He rams home the point, using the Genesis language about being "one flesh", adding his own take about "what God has joined together let man not separate," and then in 19.10 the disciples are so wowed by this they say perhaps it's better never to have married. Jesus' reply?

Be married & have all that comes with it, or be a eunuch. Be single & celibate. And he's not giving a friendship consolation for gay people here, as I've heard put forwards, this is what's on offer if you have been divorced. This is the only offer that exists if you have been divorced.

So I presume that all the people that signed up to the CEEC document, because they want to see the letter of the law administered, without context or explanation admitted on homosexuality, want the same on all issues surrounding marriage. I presume that you allow no discussion on divorce, but hold to the traditional and plain understanding of Scripture on Divorce, and not a softened approach as society has forced on us over the last 40 years, as is pointed out has happened over same-sex issues.

Fulcrum. St Mellitus. New Wine. The Bishops there. St John's Nottingham.

Is this right?

Love is at the heart of what we do - but it doesn't mean anything goes. We can't just re-write Scripture when it's inconvenient. Marriage in the Scripture is one man, one woman for life. For life. True faith leads a holy life - sex in a marriage context, but abstinence outside that. We'll look for ways of promoting friendship to help, won't we? The Church is the place where we live around God's word; if people won't do this, we will break from them. Over divorce, obviously, and all those so-called churches that allow people to re-marry just to satisfy carnal urges when the Scripture places such a clear and better path before them, really aren't places we want anything to do with.

Or...

Just in case I have made my point...

Perhaps we bring grace back into the room. Perhaps we allow that when we understand a person, we allow them to live. And we don't break fellowship because the church is not about breaking fellowship but following Christ in all our fallenness with his hand helping us. Raising us. We are endlessly obsessed with the specks in one another's eyes; but love actually means appreciating there are the odd logs in our own. And grace allows our speck-laden friend to help us take out the log so we may be blessed by them and then we may actually bless them in return, and not simply curse each other across fences and walls and barriers and pain.

The Scripture does say all these things on divorce, but it also speaks of healing. The Scripture does speak about certain homosexual acts, but it also speaks about the value of people. All people. Ethics is sometimes an imprecise sport, but when it becomes an exclusive passtime, we have made ourselves too much the focus.

The CEEC statement is clear, but incomplete. As all such statements are. I don't mean to be awkward, but I do want the church to be better than this.

the cost of freedom

Free speech costs.

The conservative religious blogger who goes under the name of Archbishop Cranmer has been charged by the Advertising Standards Agency for promoting the Campaign4Marriage.

Regular readers know how much I dislike C4M.

However - I dislike anyone who rejects freedom of speech far, far more. We are a modern democracy, and our right to be different from each other whilst respecting each other all the while was won by men and women who died in battle. Tyrants in quangos, and people who think there is a "right to not be offended" on any side of any debate need to remember this and start valuing people as people.

There is no freedom if everyone - everyone - is not free. We win no battles if in the winning we make new slaves. Progress is not won by altering who loses. Christian faith is the ultimate humanism - it raises up all people. That is why we should be at the front of every equalities fight - but not at the cost of belittling somebody else.

The National Secular Society are supporting the Cranmer Blog. Good for them. They get this point in spades. Bravo. Here is a link to the Archbishop Cranmer blog about the incident & his current stance.

I oppose C4M - I find them not Christian enough; but I support their right to advertise, & also frankly to oppose me! I hope all of us would rather be wrong than only be able to be heard because those who disagree with us have been silenced. I don't want to live in a place where there is a prohibition on ideas, even if some ideas are uncomfortable; that's not the traditions of this country. We oppose violence and hatred, not disagreement and diversity.

ASA - shame on you. If you have caused this man to spend a penny on legal advice (and it seems you have) pay him back. I'd happily take C4M adverts on my site (and those of any other cause with which I disagree) in order to help pay his legal bill, because I'm a Christian, because I'm British, because I'm a human being.

Ian

My dear friend Ian Masson has died today, following complications that arose after brain surgery. 

He was a member at St Catherine's in Pontypridd, and more than that - parish secretary, server at the 11am, and faithful servant to many, many people in that place, quietly getting on with godliness so that everyone else could have the limelight.

He used to read this blog regularly, as well as pay remarkable attention to my sermons. I once reported a joke by a cousin of mine: "Iron Man is a film; iron woman is a command". Ian emailed back - 

I just told Sam the 'IronMan...' definition you mentioned, and she said I was dicing with death.....(!) at least, I'm not bruised - yet...

Sam was the remarkable heart & soul of his life. His faith was at the core of his being; but he was a quiet man, and seemed often almost reclusive. And then came Sam. Suddenly, Ian blossomed. He came alive, and we saw things we never knew. He brought his baking to church (and often there was extra for me of that tarte tatin or the lemon sponge); we now got to see his dry humour, and the twinkle that lived under the surface upped and dwelt in full view. It's so sad they didn't have longer together; it's so wonderful they had what time they had. It changed Ian's life.

I could write many stories. Honestly, all I want to do is say this: I am grateful that he was my friend. The photo here is from an evening when I was ill, and Ian & Sam sat with me & blessed me more than words can say by their kindness. Such is a friend. I know he knew what this surgery could mean, and I am sadder than my words can convey. But Ian was a godly man, someone for whom the Scripture in Matthew 25 was written - 'Well done, good and faithful servant".  

We pray blessings and comfort and hope upon Sam through these days; and dear Ian for you, rest in peace, and rise in glory.  


(Later)


Life has its ways. 


In the days leading up to Ian's funeral the trouble which I had with my back earlier in the year, leading to an operation in February, recurred. It was enormously painful. I literally couldn't drive five minutes, never mind five hours down to South Wales. On the day of the funeral, a beautiful, sunny, warm day, my dad came over from Accrington to Leeds to get me to the medical centre for treatment.


So at two in the afternoon, when I knew everyone was gathered to say their farewells and take their leave and celebrate their love and Ian's life, I took time to join them in prayer from a distance. Someone sent a text to say how much Ian thought of me. Right back at you. 


I shall be down that way at some point and as with so many friends there through the years I shall find the spot that now marks his passing and again apologise for my absence at the funeral. And again thank him for his presence in my life.  

Liane Carroll, Leeds University, Review

Liane Carroll breezed onto stage at the Riley Smith Hall & within seconds had the entire sell-out crowd roaring approval. Her musical presence is huge, far larger than her physical size (which was the subject of much self-deprecating humour) and she dominated the evening with a glorious voice and more - a stunning musical grasp of songs old and new which worked its inevitable magic on everyone present.

We began with a gloriously joyful This Must Be Love which segued straight into Old Devil Moon ("I couldn't work out how to end the first one"). Words & improvisations melded into one without ever losing the ability to convey passion. Liane never simply dazzles in that pointlessly showy manner of TV talent shows. You can't take your eyes off her, and you never feel she has violated the core of music with which she is so endlessly creative. Tom Waits Take Me Home was transformed, plaintively beautiful, but believably a jazz standard.

By herself, a piano, a mike, a spotlight (though a couple of lads from the band doodled along in one song) Liane was superb. The first half was pretty nigh perfect.

The second half saw the Leeds University Union Dance Band join her on stage. The band played a few songs to begin; Liane had talked them up before the break - and quite right too. For a a student band this is a first rate outfit. An occasional unevenness in the saxes might have been down to splitting the tenors either side of the altos, but five trumpets is always a thrill -especially when played this well. The guy who played the wonderfully old-school solo on Do Nothing Till You Hear From Me was a joy: so many young players are all technique & no style, and this lad had genuine big band style and plenty of it. However - the glory of this band is the trombone section. Any professional big band anywhere would take this section. Creamy, mellow, punchy when needed, all four sounding richly as one - I simply can't remember hearing a sound like that for ages. Fantastic. The band is playing at the North Sea Jazz Festival this summer. Go see them, especially for the trombones.

Liane came back, and her material was unfortunately a bit patchy. It was clear that we were seeing the product of compromise - which often happens when a guest singer performs with a band like this. Some of this material was well known to her; some of it was seat of the pants. The free-flying glory of the first half was gone, but the joy of the band & her unrelenting good humour kept the evening high-octane and high-value entertainment. I think very few other entertainers could have done half so well.

Highlights? Orange Coloured Sky, Almost Like Being in Love. I would love to hear her have a go at Harry Connick's Come By Me after more rehearsal; this (of all the second half songs) was surely best suited to Liane's style, but it fell sadly flat. Shame - it's a great piece, and it wasn't quite the only moment we realised how ad-hoc the evening was.

However - don't let that detract from the show. It had rough edges, it had brilliance. The brilliance won. At the end, we demanded an encore, and then stood to cheer as the stage emptied. I'd go again tonight if they repeated the show. And probably tomorrow too. Five stars.  

searching for Barry

So what does the appointment of Barry Morgan, Archbishop of Wales, mean for the Crown Nominations Commission as it seeks to find Rowan William’s successor as Archbishop of Canterbury?

First things first: anyone on the commission can’t be elected to Canterbury. So Wales won’t have two ABCs in a row. Barry has a mixed profile in Wales – lots of people there think very highly of him, and lots don’t quite see it that way; on the whole, it’s probably a good thing he’s not in the running. He would divide English opinion more sharply than Rowan has!

Without doubt Barry is one of the more liberal primates of the Anglican Communion. He is passionately in favour of women bishops, and was fairly devastated when Wales did not vote for this measure a couple of years back. He is also very clearly pro-gay rights, though I’ve quizzed him on this at some length & it seems to me he shares a lot of liberalism’s standard double-standards on this issue – which is to say that at times liberals appear to be happy for gays in the church to exist slightly in hiding (just get on with it, people don’t need to know). I always want to say – if it’s right, why should anyone hide? People are people, or they aren’t. Make your mind up & be 100% clear on this for the sake of those who are actually around here & now - it's not just a matter of theory. Or maybe I wanted to challenge him to be more liberal than his role allows him to be!

Character wise, I'd say Barry is feisty. He does not suffer fools gladly, which is a bit rough when you work for the church of God. On the other hand, he doesn’t hold grudges. You might get both barrels fired at you, but then friendship is restored. I rather like this about him; I find it godly. There is, in my experience, little ‘side’ to his nature. I'm told he can be a consummate politician, but I’d say he prefers to be up front and if needs be to be petulant or brash – and then to pray and have a cup of tea with you. This is life; life without running sores.

There are running sores, of course. His faith is deep and true and passionate. But Barry is a theological liberal by conviction, temperament and practice. And so he really, really doesn’t get evangelicals at all. At all. To be fair, most evangelicals don’t get Barry; they hear his incendiary media remarks (“I’d happily ordain a gay bishop”) and go off the deep end, without listening to where that comes from or noticing that he spends far, far more time urging Christians to commit themselves to Christ, to prayer, to sharing their faith, to deeper discipleship and to honest worship of God. Barry & evangelicals tend to have a hate/hate relationship that in my experience was totally uncalled for.

My experience. As an evangelical working in Barry’s diocese, we had our differences. He put a rocket under me more than once. I replied in like manner to his face. That’s how it worked between us, and it did work – as I say, he never held a grudge, and nor did I. I found him to be a wonderful, godly, good man. When I was ill & needed help, he stepped in. Personally. Caringly. Financially. It pained him that he didn’t get me; we talked things through at great length, and what I genuinely believe we did have was a deep respect for each other.

So what does Barry’s appointment mean for Rowan’s successor? Well, I wouldn’t hold your breath for a George Carey clone; unreconstructed evangelicalism is hardly going to be his primary port of call.

It would be easy to imagine Barry might look for someone in his own image; like many liberals, there are times he gives off the air that if only people were more educated, we’d all understand & life would be so much better for everyone.

That’s not just a liberal problem, though, is it?

Part of me would not be at all surprised if it was his natural inclination to try to find a thoughtful, liberally minded, reasonably intellectual candidate as his ideal. Rowan-lite. But that really doesn’t do Barry justice at all. That’s the caricature.

I’ve said it already – he’s a good, godly man.

He prays. He cares. He takes things very seriously, and carries responsibility with a great sense of godly duty. His words are not just words. There is always something of the RS Thomas within him, something of the Celt that the English simply fail to comprehend. It loves the unloved and rails against the unlover. This is a deeply biblical liberalism that is critical and pastoral and able to punish itself at surprising moments. Or to be selfish. It is a very human humanity.

I do not think his appointment will be what many think it will be; as of course Rowan’s was not; for the same reasons. He’s very Welsh, you know.

10

Today marks 10 years that Matt & I have walked together. I have no idea how many miles we have actually walked over that time - I can't imagine! For sure, as we've travelled, he's never been far from my side.

Like me, a Lancastrian, Matt was actually born the day after I moved to Pontypridd. I found him on a trip to Blackpool. He walked out of the house, leaving his previous owners behind, and that was the sign. Anyone who knows him knows how rarely he will go with anyone he doesn't know; but that first time we met he walked with me.

Several friends thought I'd made a strange choice - my previous dog was the life and soul of the party; Matt was scared of the party. He was pitifully nervous in those early days. He just needed to be loved.

Together we discovered every inch of the park, the forestry, the hills, the roads & the lanes. He abhorred water, but loved the beach. The openness of the sand always appealed to him; but the noise and the simple wetness of the waves kept him at a safe distance from the surf's edge. Eventually he learned to paddle. Now in old age he even enjoys puddles! 

Matt has always helped me make new friends. Sitting outside pubs in the summertime encourages people passing by to comment - "Isn't he handsome!" I am always generous in my reply: "The dog's not bad either". And thanks to Matt I have got to know several vets very well.

He loves travelling, leaping into the car to see where we will go next. He loves coming home even more, knowing that at the end of an adventure, it's just him & me again, safe in our house. Likewise, he welcomes guests with a smile & a wag, especially if he knows them well. And his smile & wag grow even stronger as they go again... He is the definition of a "one man dog", and I am the lucky one man. 

Sometimes I wish the rest of you could see what he's like when you've all gone. He only really becomes himself when it's just the two of us. And then I quite enjoy that there is something no-one else gets to see, one of life's little innocent pleasures that belongs purely to me.  

He was totally silent, I mean completely mute at first. I had to teach him to bark. These days his eyesight is pretty poor, and his hearing all but gone, but he still has a great voice. Not that he uses it often: he never did. He'll speak when he's especially happy; or when he's especially excited; or when he wants a treat, or there's chicken in the kitchen & I haven't noticed...

And he never, never wanders far from me, often finding the least bit of space in order to snuggle up to me and remind me he is here. Man's best friend. My dog, my companion. My Matty.

Ten years. I am grateful for every day of them. And Matt is old, and he has his illnesses, and how many more days there will be is known to God but not to us. So I am grateful for this day, with all my heart.

how many times?

I tell a story sometimes, about someone I had to forgive. The forgiving took a long time, and I only realised it had happened many years later. It took me by surprise when I finally understood how deeply the forgiving had happened.

But in between times - O there was some wrestling. And since then too, if I'm honest. Many times. Does that mean it hadn't really happened? Had I just had a brief moment of calm in the midst of life's natural storms?

No. God works his truths out within us, if we let him. But life throws stuff at us. Memories surface. Events mirror events, and emotions play their tricks. And then we come face to face with what is real: that either the past lives, or it has died. Forgiveness allows death to die and life to live. That is why its rhythms beat right at the heart of Christian faith.

Luther, when facing temptation, would cry out - "I am baptised!" and in that cry would declare that he had died to sin and been raised to a new life in Christ. Just so. We, who are forgiven, have died to holding on to sin, and have been raised to bestowing forgiveness with the freedom with which we have received the same.

Forgiveness is, like all things, a choice; even when it's a no-brainer we maintain the right to act like the brainless! But Jesus places before us both the option and the strength to choose something better. He doesn't leave us alone. "Forgive," he tells the disciples gathered for fear behind locked doors in an upper room, simultaneously breathing on them the Holy Spirit lest they think he means them to try to attempt this trick without the aid of someone greater holding their hand all the while.

Choose life. Choose the hand that strengthens. Choose it again, for again we need it - over the same darned issue. And again. And again. And -

And then we think we need to forgive again, but actually, it has gone. In fact, we simply need to let go. To understand that this 'thing' is in the past. It has died. Hold a funeral, watch the coffin descend, walk away, hold a party, and let the cycle of forgiveness turn from mourning to dancing. There will be moments when you catch your breath ('How many times O Lord?') but in reality the truth has moved on. Death has died. Now we live. To use Corrie ten Boom's picture, God cast the thing we so struggled with into the sea and put up a sign saying 'No Fishing'. And so we shouldn't consider hiring a boat, just to check...

I am reminded of all this, this week. And I'm not hiring a boat, though I have been thinking about it, just to make sure.

Some things aren't perfect in this life, and sometimes temptation comes in the form of trying to tart up the broken with sticky tape and paint, when actually it simply needs to be called 'broken' and allowed to be left. No point putting lipstick on the pig; it's still a pig.

We are not in control of everything. But we know One who is. So we should act faithfully; living as obedient, gracious and as holy a life as we can, and asking for forgiveness as often as we must along the way. God will make all things new in his time and in his way. We should let go, forgive, seek & accept forgiveness, let the mistakes of the past die and the wonders of today live.

How many times?

Just enough, thanks be to God.

grace

I've had an epiphany. A moment of understanding.

I shared a joke & someone didn't get it, and as a result, I got something. Something else, actually, though something kind of related.

This letter on the left was on Facebook; Clare Hayns posted it there & I was amused by it. It is funny. The preamble to the letter tells us it's "hilarious", which for me is rather overstating the case, but it did make me smile.

It's funny because it takes a line used by good people who use and love the Scriptures but don't always think about what the consequences of their words might be. It then plays on that idea, and shows that if you make a complex issue too simple, you end up with chaos. Or Canadian slaves. President Jed Bartlet once did something similar, I recall, though it turns out it may have the same root.  

However - somebody commented to me in a very serious way about this. They just didn't get that it is intended to be funny. They didn't get that there was humour here, despite the way I'd tweeted it ("Humorous take...") and despite that word "hilarious" in the preamble. The subject matter, and the fact that someone was (for them) mishandling the Scripture overrode all of that.

Or they just didn't get it.

Now - don't any of you dare judge this person. Their reaction is crucial for all of us.

In the debate on Scripture & sexuality, all of us see things in certain ways which are blindingly obvious to us, and we are amazed that other people just don't get it. The key is - everyone in this whole mess is genuine, honest, and human. Lots of us are hurt in different ways. Many of us have much riding on the outcome of these debates - from the right to be counted as equal human beings to the question of which voice is more important in the Church - Bible or Society? As these debates play out not just within our walls but without as well, the ways those rights get called can seem to be somewhat fluid, and different sectors of the church feel they matter in different ways at different times.

What I am saying is - when we speak, when we debate, when we put forward things that seem blatantly true and Scriptural and godly, it may be that others reject what we say not because they are being awkward, spiteful, unBiblical and ungodly: they may just not get it. Even though we have labelled something "humorous" and used the word "hilarious", our brothers and sisters in faith simply didn't see the joke.

That's how people are, and if we can't exercise grace, if we can't love, if all we can do is pity the poor person, judge the poor person, feel pleased with ourselves & with gentle pride know ourselves better - then God help us, because we are lost. Lost. To go back to what I said in my last post - it's one of the things I love about the Holiness tradition I find in a place like Asbury at its best: there is no holiness without grace, without generosity and kindness and humanity and love.

Love your neighbour, says Jesus. He and she may not be a monster after all. For if we are to move forwards, at some point we are going to have to behave like Christians, however much we still disagree.

refining the gold

I've come across the excellent Asbury Seedbed site, with some really brilliant resources on it.

Asbury Seminary is one of my favourite places, a Methodist Seminary full of that rather lovely holiness graciousness which speaks of our evangelical tradition at its best. It has been a place where I have made many friends, heard much wisdom, and occasionally been privileged to participate.

One of the videos the Seedbed site has up is an excellent offering, in that conservative but gracious and holy tradition the Seminary does so well, that speaks to how evangelicals view Scripture and Homosexuality. Dr Ben Witherington covers most of what you would expect to hear clearly, kindly and from a traditional standpoint in a little over seven minutes. Do watch it.


Now - I often say we should debate these things. I kind of disagree with a number of things that Dr Witherington says - not because of the spirit in which he says them, but because I think the Scriptures actually have been sometimes unfortunately handled by those who have gone before us, and we have allowed the holiness of many godly people, and the traditions of previous ages, to dim our eyes as we look to our God-given texts on these matters.

So I want to ask some questions. Not as someone who disregards the Scripture, but as someone who loves the Bible, and as someone who only hopes he might emulate in his life the grace of the holiness tradition that is Asbury at its finest, and which has so inspired me.

This is my response - not quite as concise as Dr Witherington, but still under ten minutes...


I've already invited some others to join in with their thoughts, and now widen that net: one caveat though. I will only publish thoughts and comments and responses that are generous and gracious. We are Christians, and we may disagree, but we must love one another. People are people, loved by God, and that's the bottom line here. Anyone who forgets that will lose their voice till they recall this!

One or two questions have already come in, and rather than write, as I usually do, I've simply put my thoughts on another video. So, by all means stop now. But if you are interested, and fancy a bit of a biblical work out - you can have a go at this one too:


As I say, this is a place for questions and thoughts and responses. I'd love to think it's possible to hold a safe place to talk where there are no sides, only Christians who may not all agree, but who do all share a passion for Scripture, a compassion for people, and a desire to follow Jesus.

Thanks.

wallowing

So I'm wallowing in nostalgia again.

It's my age. I blame it on... well, nothing really. Technology I suppose. If those guys at Vocalion weren't so good at their jobs, this would be no fun. But I've come across another couple of Syd Lawrence Orchestra CDs from the mid-1970s, and they sound superb.

I mean - I presume they've been remastered & cleaned up & had all kinds of stuff done to them, because they sound amazing. Phillips, who recorded these albums in Manchester way back when, had a very definite 'sound': the brass swam in reverb. Kind of unpleasantly so. And all of that has gone - these CDs sound crystal clear, brand new, and have a glorious roundness to the sound which modern big band recordings almost never have. It's as if people can't quite get it right now. The art has been lost. Anyone who wants to record a big band should listen to Vocalion's remastering of Holland Special/Welt Hits. Just for the sound quality.

And then there's the music. The Greatest Hits of the 1930s album was Syd's only album where he added strings to his usual big band; it means the whole thing is a bit more mellow, but it is glorious. When I was a teenager & collecting Syd's LPs on vinyl, I could never get a copy of this. Years later I found bootleg copies on CD, but now I have this re-issue and it is amazing. The band in its prime, full blooded and confident and beautiful. When I Take My Sugar To Tea, Little White Lies - glorious; and a spine-tingling Moonlight Serenade.

It's coupled with the Singin' & Swingin' album, and I haven't got there yet - but that has some great arrangements on it; I have other CD transfers of those tracks, but nothing that compares with what the Vocalion engineers have done.

And then the Holland/Germany double CD. I have never even heard these recordings before. Made for European tours, and using mostly Dutch & German tunes with very Miller-esque arrangements, these recordings are quite wonderful. I've heard the old guys, the long-standing Syd Lawrence Orchestra buffs speak highly of these recordings, and now I know why. It's like listening to an album of Miller music you never knew existed for the very first time - music played beautifully, recorded perfectly, arranged with style, care & occasionally wit, and this band at that time could do this like no other band before or since.

Yes, I'm wallowing. Wallowing. It's like sunbathing in sound. A perfect way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

Jimmy Olsen

So a comment came through yesterday on my piece about Dick France; the features editor from the Daily Telegraph wanted to use the photos I'd put up there for their obituary for Dick, which they were getting round to publishing today.

I was quite taken aback - but honoured that I might be helpful in this way. I wondered how they'd found me - Google, of course. The main pic came up as the third image on a Google search I did.

It's a nice piece; click here to read it, and to see one of the pics; they used the other in the printed version.

I wished I'd had a better one to offer them than just those two from the day Dick came to St Catherine's in 2009. The only other I could find was this one. Much as I cherish it, it's not what they were looking for! This is Dick with me at my ordination in Cardiff in 1994. Yes - that's actually me standing next to him! I know, so much hair, so young, so innocent. Well, two out of three ain't bad.

So I got a Jimmy Olsen moment; a picture in the national press. And though I fancy I have taken many better photographs over the years, a better subject or worthier person is hard to imagine.

always

I wrote this for a wedding in (I think) 1988. That's a long time back. It's had a few makeovers since then. And I've finally learned to play it on guitar - though the bridge has been changed in order for that to happen...

It's a simple love song, and as I recall it was based on a poem I was given, though nothing of the poem made it into the final lyric. Just the sentiment.

It was always intended to have a double edge; like the allegory of Song of Songs, a good love song should carry with it the possibility of God's voice singing over his people as well as those people singing to each other. At times I moulded the words more clearly to make that point, at times less so.

An old school friend, who was always dismissive of my piano playing (he'd hate my guitar playing too, I just know it!) always took pains (and I think it did pain him) to admire some of my melodies. If the hymn I posted last week carries my most personal theology, this melody, from half a lifetime ago, remains one of my favourites.

Ah, I don't write them like I used to.

I'll Always Love You: thanks to Andrew & Lis who asked me to write it without knowing what they were asking.

better

I saw a copy of a letter today. In it, I was criticised. The letter was not sent to me, though I have a suspicion I was intended to see it. It had its effect; I was hurt and disappointed.

I'm preparing a sermon for Sunday at the moment on John 20.19-31. It contains the rather confusing instruction that whoever we forgive is forgiven; and whoever we do not forgive is not forgiven. We get the power to extend the power of the cross or to withhold it, apparently.

Of course, it must mean something else. What is our faith about if not forgiveness? How can there be any point if we can refuse to forgive? How can we be forgiven if we refuse to forgive - doesn't Jesus bang this point home time and time again?

Well, absolutely.

Jesus is not granting the church the right to become power crazed. The church does become power crazed. People always like to assert themselves. It's part of the human condition. But we don't walk this path with Jesus' blessing; he watches us wander down this road with sadness, not approval; sorry disappointment for blessings missed, not nodding gladness for just desserts gained.

Bottom line: the cross says Christianity is about forgiveness. And if we don't get that, don't receive it, don't pass it on - it stops here. Whomever we forgive is forgiven, gloriously; but if we don't forgive - how can anyone be forgiven? If we, who have been given the gold of such blessing, don't pass it on - it stops here. If we don't forgive, no-one is forgiven. It stops.

The cross stops?

The church is always a generation from ending; because we are always a generation away from such selfishness; being glad we are recipients of grace and being glad, we fold our arms and watch everyone else suffer in ignorance and go to hell in a handcart.

So.

I'm hurt and disappointed by what I read today. But - if my faith means anything, then what am I to do?

Be miffed for an hour. And remember what I have been forgiven, eventually. And if I have been forgiven, then I have to forgive too. And again. And again, till it sticks. This doesn't fail because I'm selfish; it works because I remember, and am grateful.

The person who wrote of me is loved by Jesus. The person they wrote to is loved by Jesus. So am I. These are truths I know more than feel right now; but sometimes we have to settle for the head leading the heart.

Whoever we forgive is forgiven. So we forgive. This brings life, and life is better.

new

I think I have lost count of the number of times I have been asked something to the effect of "Is it strange to not be being a vicar?" Particularly at times like this. Festival time. Easter. The times when (say, last year) people used to say, "I suppose this is your busiest time?"

No, it's not strange. Yes, it's a calling rather than just a job, but I'm still very much the same person, just not doing the same job. Three times this last week I've had people ask me for advice on matters of life and faith and work. It turns out my life in Christ and who I am was never about where my pay packet came from; and who we are seeps out, good and bad and indifferent. That's a tricky thing! And a reassuring one.

It's fair to wonder if I miss it.

No is the honest answer. Sometimes I miss the attention; but the attention is what I disliked the most too. That's human contrariness for you. People are ignoring me for who I am now. That's refreshing. And I enjoy attempting faithful anonymity. When you are the vicar, you have to be nice to people in Tescos, just in case they know who you are. They always know who you are. When you are anonymous, being nice can be done because it's a good thing. I take pleasure in this, and in the forgiveness for the failing to achieve it.

Because I so enjoyed leading and speaking, some are concerned I miss these things. Please believe me - I don't. I am simply delighted to be in Calverley, to be a part of a lovely village fellowship led by a good man who has a wonderful knack with liturgy and Scripture. Good Friday morning was a delight. Today, Easter Sunday, was a total joy. John has a way of adding to the liturgy with seasonal material that lifts it makes it special without making it unrecognisable from what we know and use all the time. I have been to some places & felt that the congregation must never know what is coming next; John constantly refreshes the service and shapes it with wonderful sentences that let you know exactly where we are in the year without ever, ever making you think "heck, what's going on now?" He is a superb liturgist, using whatever resources he has with a brilliant sense of what a congregation needs. Today was a classic example of it. A straightforward communion that rang out with Easter joy. Do I miss leading? No - I love being a part of this church, led so well. And his preaching today was wonderfully warm and personal, and took us into the heart of the Gospel, good news for us, by peeling away at the Mark narrative and found in two words (two words of apparently inconsequential narrative detail) a depth of grace and mercy and joy and application of God's love that surely cannot have failed to touch any person present. I loved it.

I guess the questions I am asked are concerns that come from loving hearts which seek to find out -

Do I have regrets?

No. God is good. Behold, he makes all things new. I am not in a place of loss but of finding. Discovery is wonderful, and following Jesus may not look like we thought it would every step of the way, but Easter - of all times - tells us that when we are tempted to look back and feed regret we need to see angels on tombstones, sleepy guards shamefacedly stumbling away, and hear magical words reminding us that the truth is no longer tied down where we or others once left it, last Friday, last year, whenever: He is risen. And rising, raises us with himself. This is news. And new. And glorious truth that gloriously renews.

Hallelujah.

the Lord is here

I can't remember exactly why I wrote this hymn words; I think it was because I was preaching on John 20.19-31, the whole Doubting Thomas story, and as I immersed myself in the narrative (my usual prep) this just came out.

As I write that, I have a sneaking feeling that I may even have written these words for one of the BBC Radio Wales broadcasts that we did in 2007; certainly they appeared for the first time in our song books at St Catherine's at that time. We recorded two services, one of them for Easter Sunday, and one of the features of that service was a scene around Jesus & Thomas. The music you hear on this clip comes from that service.

It's interesting to me that a hymn based so straightforwardly on a Bible passage evokes within me the strength of emotional response that these words always achieve.

I think perhaps they demonstrate something of how my faith works. Verses one and two are a fairly simple re-telling of the story of Jesus appearing to Thomas & the other disciples, but placing us within the timeline. Suddenly, we are there; he is here. There is glory and grace and peace & the Spirit breathed out over us. We see his hands & side; we see and half understand, for this is beyond us. Half understanding, we look from scars to eyes and see not pain but triumph and joy.

Those words are truths the disciples knew; truths Thomas knew; words and truths we find we too know. We are one, part of the same body, the same experience, the same family of faith. Easter binds us across the years.

And then the third verse becomes very personal. The first half of the verse may be the disciples on the first Easter Sunday evening; the second half is Thomas; the depth of the emotion for me is that all of these words are my heart as I see Jesus. Night is gone, day shines bright, hope replaces fear, and though I fall trembling before my Lord because I am uncomprehending, unholy, unworthy, my fall is halted by the Risen One whose hand now lifts me. After everything, knowing everything, his resurrection (it turns out) is not his alone.

It's ours too.

I saw an old friend last weekend. The first friend who ever invited me to hear of Jesus. We see each other occasionally. We have much in common and many differences. I will always, always be grateful to him for that invitation. He told me he quotes something I wrote in my Salvation's Song book; I say there something like, the Gospel is - we are free to worship God.

And so we stand with songs of rising praise,
and sing the anthem which can know no end,
confessing Jesus, ever and always,
our Lord, our God, our Saviour and our friend.

it sort of comes and goes

In 2008 David Cameron was quoted as describing his faith as being like the reception for Magic FM in the Chilterns: "it sort of comes and goes". He went on: "That sums up a lot of people in the Church of England. We are racked with doubts, but sort of fundamentally believe, but don't sort of wear it on our sleeves or make too much of it. I think that is sort of where I am."

I sort of understand him.

However, times have changed. Our dear Prime-Minister Honest Dave has been braving hordes of Christian lions, and throwing himself, martyr-like, before them, both asking for - and offering prayer.

Sort of a turnaround really. Not even Tony Blair in all his pomp 'did God' (TM Alistair Campbell) so publicly. When David Frost asked him if he prayed with George Bush, Tony squirmed. Honest Dave would probably offer up the info, and sort of pray for Frosty there & then on live TV.

So what's happened?

Well, first off, this isn't a one-off. Much publicity as this year's Easter Message from the PM has received - he did do this last year. Oh yes. Here's last year's message:

I would like to send my best wishes to everyone here in Britain and across the world as we come together to celebrate this very special festival in the Christian year.Easter is a time when Christians are reminded of God’s mercy and celebrate the life of Christ. In the Gospel of Mark, Jesus taught us to love God and love our neighbour. He led by example and for millions of us his teachings are just as relevant now as they were in his lifetime.As we share in this festival with our friends and family, we can all be reminded of the enormous contribution Christianity has made to our country. Easter reminds us all to follow our conscience and ask not what we are entitled to, but what we can do for others. It teaches us about charity, compassion, responsibility, and forgiveness. No matter what faiths we follow, these are values which speak to us all.I would like to send my best wishes to you and your families at this time, and enjoy a very Happy Easter.

In 2008, Honest Dave appears embarrassed by the subject of faith; he wriggles and all those verbal ticks ('sort of') come gushing out as he feels his way nervously forwards. Three years on, and PM in 2011, he is on confident ground.

OK, if we're being picky we might see a reduction of Christianity to a contribution to our country (country being greater you see in that sentence), of the message of Easter being about conscience (really? that's the central message?) and about service to others.

But in there he also picks some pretty major themes of our faith: God's mercy, the greatest command (surely at the absolute core of all Christian living) of loving God and neighbour, and even his list of 'charity, compassion, responsibility and forgiveness' isn't bad, is it?

Particularly interesting - and many commentators picked up on this last year - is his "we" and "us" language. Jesus taught us to love God; for millions of us his teachings are just as relevant now. This sort of Anglican is being pretty clear where his faith allegiance lies.

He ends with a greetings card blessing, and sends us on our way...

This year, 2012, he issued his Easter message a few days early as he met Christian leaders in Holy Week. It's been a tough time for Honest Dave. The spinning wheels are in danger of falling off the Coalition bus. Fuel crises, spats to the right, fueds to the left, and several of the leaders he stood before in Downing Street unhappy with him specifically over his stance on gay marriage and tax relief on charitable giving and secret trials and a host of other issues. So he did what he does so well - he made a self-deprecating joke: "In the past week I've felt like I've needed someone to pray for me," he said. He then looked out at the gathered church leaders & prominent Christian politicians, paused, and added: "They might have overdone it."

He addressed differences with some of his audience head-on, as well as referring to the case in Devon where councillors were prevented from praying at their meeting - till his government changed the law:  "I think there's something of a fightback going on, and we should welcome that; the values of the Bible, the values of Christianity are the values we need."

Well, frankly what else was he going to say in that company?

What else? Interestingly - this: this is this year's PM's Easter message.

Easter week is a very important moment in the Christian calendar, so I would like to extend my best wishes to everyone here in the United Kingdom, and across the world, at this special time of year.“This is the time when, as Christians, we remember the life, sacrifice and living legacy of Christ. The New Testament tells us so much about the character of Jesus; a man of incomparable compassion, generosity, grace, humility and love. These are the values that Jesus embraced, and I believe these are values people of any faith, or no faith, can also share in, and admire. “It is values like these that make our country what it is – a place which is tolerant, generous and caring. A nation which has an established faith, that together is most content when we are defined by what we are for, rather than defined by what we are against. In the book of Luke, we are told that Jesus said, “Do to others as you would have them do to you” – advice that when followed makes for a happier, and better society for everyone. “So as families and friends get together this week, I would like to send my best wishes to you all, and I hope and pray you have a very happy and peaceful Easter.

Again - we Christians can be so sniffy. Is this the perfect Easter sermon? No. I saw one excellent comment say that we celebrate the "living person of Christ" not his "living legacy". Fair point. And I would say that as a politician, Honest Dave speaks inherently politically (and that's not a criticism, it's just a fact - a musician speaks musically, a climatologist, well, you get my gist). So though he speaks of Easter, as last year the values of Christianity 'make our country what it is'. Though now they aren't a 'contribution', they are the defining character of 'a nation which has an established faith'.

It's interesting to see how that works for Honest Dave. It's about tolerance, generosity & care, it's about working together and being 'defined by what we are for, rather than defines by what we are against'. He finally describes the Big Society: it's the Golden Rule. The Big Society? Honest Dave wants us to find the Better Society, and places that in a Christian context. He may or may not know that he's working out an eschatology here, a Kingdom theology. And Easter is a pretty good place to let that burst out.

I might point out that in his Bible reading plan, he's moved from Mark to Luke; expect him to quote John in 2013.

I will point out his ending.

It's still a bit greetings card-y, but in keeping with his self-identification as a man of faith ("this is the time when, as Christians, we remember") he totally outs himself and (sort of) prays for us. The PM prays for us. "I hope and pray you have a very happy and peaceful Easter'. Tony Blair never did that. I guess if footballers can Pray4Muamba, Honest Dave can Pray4U&Me.

Though another thought crossed my mind.

For it does seem to me that - and why not - Mr Cameron may be on his own sort of spiritual journey. I very much hope so. And who would be helping him? A fellow-Etonian runs the biggest outreach of them all in the Alpha Course, though he was a Cambridge man so that seems an unlikely alliance.

No - that little prayer at the end is the giveaway isn't it? After all, since he has been PM, Honest Dave has been having weekly sessions with the Church of England's Evangelist in Chief, who is currently celebrating sixty years in that role, and who also led the nation by praying for us at our last major Christian holiday. I think she is having her timeless and godly effect on our Prime Minister. That's what an established faith is for.

Oh of course you know whom I mean...