Thursday, 30 April 2009

servant sufferers

In Housegroups this week we were looking at 1 Peter 4 and the various ways in which people who follow Jesus can suffer at the hands of those who don't. That kind of perpetual ridicule and opposition can be very wearing; it can also make us defensive and insular, people who are turned away and turned inwards by suffering.

But in verses 7-11 Peter exhorts his readers to be sufferers who serve - people who pray, who love, who share with others and who serve with all God's might.

How does that come about? Maybe verse 7 is a help, and not just with respect to praying: "The end of all things is near". Knowing suffering has an end, knowing there is glory beyond the suffering, knowing that soon the Saviour will be seen and every wrong righted - knowing such things seems to be Peter's recipe for serving others in the face of suffering.

They were good times at the Housegroups.

the great songs (xix) - light my fire

Light My Fire by The Doors just bursts open from the very first note and delivers in spades. For once, I'm not going to comment on the words, they mean very little to me in this case (and are far more direct than most Doors lyrics, not being written by Morrison).

What I will mention is the music - surely one of the greatest instrumental sections in all popular music (far too long to be called an interlude, lasting from just over a minute in, right through to the latter part of the 6th minute of the song). I love the organ and its almost hypnotic effect and the cool sweep of the guitar. Yes, Morrison's singing helps it along but, in truth, it isn't his best and isn't the decisive factor in the song's greatness. It's the playing that carries all before it.

To be played loud.

Friday, 24 April 2009

the great songs (xviii) - mother

I realise this is an extremely hard song to listen to, for all sorts of people and for all sorts of reasons. I'm not including it here because it entertains (it clearly doesn't) but because of its cathartic honesty.

Mother was the opening track to the first post-beatles album by John Lennon (John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band). Both John and Yoko had been exposed to Arthur Janov's primal therapy and the natural outcome was music that reflected their experiences (Yoko's response was the twin album, Yoko Ono/Plastic Ono Band).

The opening tolling of bells has been seen as signalling the passing of the Beatles-era for Lennon, a topic he addresses on the song God later on the album. Whether intentional or not, the effect is palpable. But even more they signal the sense of loss and rejection that the song goes on to handle, as indeed does the whole album in various ways.

A rewarding listen, but not an easy one.

Monday, 20 April 2009

chris wright: asking 'why?'

In introducing the section of his book, The God I Don't Understand, that deals with evil and suffering, Chris Wright makes this valuable observation:

Whereas we often ask "Why?" people in the Bible more often asked "How long?". Their tendency was not to demand that God give an explanation for the origin of evil but rather to plead with God to do something to bring about an end to evil. And that, we shall see, is exactly what God has promised to do.

(page 27)

Saturday, 18 April 2009

the great songs (xvii) - the river

The River was among the first Bruce Springsteen tracks I remember hearing, along with Hungry Heart and Sherry Darling off the same album. I guess it must have been '81 and the album had a decidely lukewarm reception in NME (my reference point in those days).

It isn't necessarily the greatest individual song that the Boss ever recorded (although one of the finest on that album) but it's certainly representative of his expansive, storytelling style. And the lyrics inhabit familiar territory - the early death of idealism and the premature acceptance of an almost cynical realism, with the merest hints of a possible shot at redemption (the almost mythical river into which they'd dive) and the despairing realisation that the river is dry. It paints a stark picture of an ailing nation and of a failing humanity.

The question asked by the narrator, 'Is a dream a lie if it don't come true or is it something worse?' is worth pondering as a prime example of Springsteen's lyrical gift. But the lyrics deserve to be seen in full, so here they are:

I come from down in the valley, where mister when you're young
They bring you up to do like your daddy done
Me and Mary we met in high school, when she was just seventeen
We'd ride out of that valley down to where the fields were green

We'd go down to the river
And into the river we'd dive
Oh down to the river we'd ride

Then I got Mary pregnant, and man that was all she wrote
And for my nineteenth birthday I got a union card and a wedding coat
We went down to the courthouse
And the judge put it all to rest
No wedding day smiles no walk down the aisle
No flowers no wedding dress

That night we went down to the river
And into the river we'd dive
Oh down to the river we did ride

I got a job working construction for the Johnstown Company
But lately there ain't been much work on account of the economy
Now all them things that seemed so important
Well mister they vanished right into the air
Now I just act like I don't remember, Mary acts like she don't care

But I remember us riding in my brother's car
Her body tan and wet down at the reservoir
At night on them banks I'd lie awake
And pull her close just to feel each breath she'd take
Now those memories come back to haunt me, they haunt me like a curse
Is a dream a lie if it don't come true, or is it something worse
That sends me down to the river, though I know the river is dry
That sends me down to the river tonight
Down to the river, my baby and I
Oh down to the river we ride

Friday, 17 April 2009

twitter & morality (wsj extract)

Ever worry that the ever-increasing barrage of status updates from Facebook, Twitter and every other real-time, hey-look-what-I’m-doing and look-what-happened-just-this-very-second service may be outstripping your brain’s capacity to process them?
You’re probably right, says a new study from a University of Southern California neuroscience group. Physorg.com:
“‘For some kinds of thought, especially moral decision-making about other people’s social and psychological situations, we need to allow for adequate time and reflection,’ said first author Mary Helen Immordino-Yang.

‘Humans can sort information very quickly and can respond in fractions of seconds to signs of physical pain in others.
Admiration and compassion–two of the social emotions that define humanity–take much longer….’”

Too many words? Want to cut to the chase? OK:
“The study raises questions about the emotional cost–particularly for the developing brain–of heavy reliance on a rapid stream of news snippets obtained through television, online feeds or social networks such as Twitter.

‘If things are happening too fast, you may not ever fully experience emotions about other people’s psychological states and that would have implications for your morality,’ Immordino-Yang said.”


(from the Wall Street Journal)

Monday, 13 April 2009

indicative power

Willpower is a notoriously sputtery engine on which to rely for internal energy, but a right image silently and inexorably pulls us into its field of reality, which is also a field of energy.


Eugene H. Peterson, Under The Unpredicatable Plant, p.6

edward shillito: jesus of the scars

If we have never sought, we seek Thee now;
Thine eyes burn through the dark, our only stars;
We must have sight of thorn-pricks on Thy brow,
We must have Thee, O Jesus of the Scars.

The heavens frighten us; they are too calm;
In all the universe we have no place.
Our wounds are hurting us; where is the balm?
Lord Jesus, by Thy Scars we claim Thy grace.

If, when the doors are shut, Thou drawest near,
Only reveal those hands, that side of Thine;
We know today what wounds are, have no fear;
Show us Thy Scars, we know the countersign.

The other gods were strong, but Thou wast weak;
They rode, but Thou didst stumble to a throne;
But to our wounds only God’s wounds can speak,
And not a god has wounds, but Thou alone.

Wednesday, 8 April 2009

the great songs (xvi) - the scientist

I know Coldplay come in for a lot of (sometimes deserved) criticism - taking themselves too seriously, overblown and underwhelming. But when they get it right, musically and lyrically, they get it well right.

The Scientist doesn't need much explanation, nor commendation; it's qualities shine through from first hearing onwards. It's simple, yet not simplistic. It is heartfelt, yet without angst. And the singing is probably Chris Martin's best.

Questions of science
Science and progress
Do not speak as loud as my heart


So: enjoy.

Friday, 3 April 2009

the great songs (xv) - i want you to be my love

This song is deceptively simple and potentially inconsequential. It doesn't mean to deceive; it isn't a set-up or a falsification. But it will only really make its presence deeply felt in the light of what preceded it: the breaking-point marital tension of Ohio. You can read about the trauma here but you'll only feel it by listening (without company) to Ohio.

And then coming to I Want You To Be My Love becomes what it always was for its makers: fresh, vibrant satisfaction in the solidarity of tested love.