the great books (ix) - animal farm

George Orwell's fable of the Russian revolution is simple & enjoyable, clear & salutary. Its celebrated lines have already passed into common use ('but some are more equal than others' is but one example). That it is, in form, a fable makes it easier to spot the main lessons; but Orwell's skill is in masking deeper resonances within the simplicity. The scene in Jones' kitchen with the pigs faces resembling humans is devastatingly worked.

We have (somewhere in the house) a great reading of it by Timothy West - his voice was made for the task. The children loved listening to it on car journeys and sang along to 'Beasts of England' with great gusto.

Thinking about the book yesterday (see, these posts are not just 'off the cuff'), it struck me that Paul's letter to the Philippians might be helpfully explored through the lens of Orwell's yarn - I don't mean to make Euodia into a Napoleon but nevertheless I do think there's some mileage there.

So watch this space for 'Animal Church'.

Maybe.

I Saw From The Beach (Moore)

I was talking with someone today and they made reference to a poem by the Irish poet, Thomas Moore (no 'Sir'). The poem is known as 'I Saw From The Beach' and it struck me as a very moving piece and one capable of being helpfully quoted in a variety of settings - hence the decision to post it here.

So: enjoy.

I saw from the beach, when the morning was shining,
A bark o'er the waters move gloriously on;
I came when the sun o'er that beach was declining --
The bark was still there, but the waters were gone!

And such is the fate of life's early promise,
So passing the spring-tide of joy we have known:
Each wave that we danc'd on at morning, ebbs from us,
And leaves us, at eve, on the bleak shore alone!

Ne'er tell me of glories serenely adorning
The close of our day, the calm eve of our night;
Give me back, give me back the wild freshness of Morning,
Her clouds and her tears are worth Evening's best light.

Oh, who would not welcome that moment's returning,
When passion first wak'd a new life through his frame;
And his soul, like the wood that grows precious in burning,
Gave out all its sweets to love's exquisite flame!

a QWERTY church?

Here's an interesting anecdote I wasn't aware of:

Many of the rules that apply in businesses were set years ago and have endured by force of habit. A good example is the QWERTY keyboard, which is in use on all desktop computers. The original QWERTY layout of keys on the typewriter keyboard was designed in the 1870s to slow down the speed of typing because fast operators were causing typewriter keys to jam together. By putting the most commonly used letters e, a, i, o away from the index fingers of the hands, speed was reduced and jams were avoided. Those mechanical jams are long gone but we are stuck with a rule for a keyboard layout that is outdated and inappropriate. How many of the rules in your organisation are QWERTY standards – set up for circumstances that no longer apply today?

(You can read the whole article here)

Interesting as that is, it set me thinking: are there aspects of our church life & practice that are, effectively, QWERTY-standard?

And if there are, what then? Changing keyboard isn't possible - not now, not this late in the game. But changing church? Wadda ya think?

the great books (viii) - to kill a mockingbird

Continuing the sequence of major prize-winning literature that this list is turning into - an Orange, & two Bookers to date - we now reach the Pulitzer-accorded To Kill A Mockingbird, Harper Lee's most famous piece of writing.

It's a coming-of-age novel but that can never do justice to this fine, fine work. The story of Scout, her father Attitcus and the fabled Boo Radley is wonderfully observed and bravely raised a flag for the injustices of the deep south.

The least-churchy of the main characters, Atticus nevertheless displays the most consistently Christian behaviour. Perhaps unwittingly, Lee takes us on a side-journey into the waters of Romans 2, Luke 10 and James 2....not the hearers but the doers.

It took me a long time to get around to reading this but I'm so glad I did.

wild horses

Susan Boyle on top form. Honest.

the great books (vii) - disgrace

Here we are again. And this time with a book I never epxected to read but found utterly enthralling, albeit not in any joyous way: J M Coetzee's Disgrace.

Rather than try to capture its central storyline and authorial intent myself (read: cannot do so), here is something lifted from Amazon which makes a fine job of doing so (although I'm not necessarily saying she gets it fully right...). All I will add is that the quality of Coetzee's writing is truly outstanding.

So, over to you, Rachel....

Disgrace takes as its complex central character 52-year-old English professor David Lurie whose preoccupation with Romantic poetry - and romancing his students - threatens to turn him into a "a moral dinosaur". Called to account by the University for a passionate but brief affair with a student who is ambivalent about his embraces, David refuses to apologise, drawing on poetry before what he regards as political correctness in his claim that his "case rests on the rights of desire." Seeking refuge with his quietly progressive daughter Lucie on her isolated small holding, David finds that the violent dilemmas of the new South Africa are inescapable when the tentative emotional truce between errant father and daughter is ripped apart by a traumatic event that forces Lucie to an appalling disgrace. Pitching the moral code of political correctness against the values of Romantic poetry in its evocation of personal relationships, this novel is skillful - almost cunning - in its exploration of David's refusal to be accountable and his daughter's determination to make her entire life a process of accountability. Their personal dilemmas cast increasingly foreshortened shadows against the rising concerns of the emancipated community, and become a subtle metaphor for the historical unaccountability of one culture to another.

The ecstatic critical reception with which Disgrace has been received has insisted that its excellence lies in its ability to encompass the universality of the human condition. Nothing could be farther from the truth, or do the novel - and its author - a greater disservice. The real brilliance of this stylish book lies in its ability to capture and render accountable - without preaching - the specific universality of the condition of whiteness and white consciousness. Disgrace is foremost a confrontation with history that few writers would have the resources to sustain. Coetzee's vision is unforgiving--but not bleak. Against the self-piteous complaints of all declining cultures and communities who bemoan the loss of privileges that were never theirs to take, Coetzee's vision of an unredeemed white consciousness holds out - to those who reach towards an understanding of their position in history by starting again, with nothing - the possibility of "a moderate bliss." --Rachel Holmes

honourable mention

to the album, Flying Cowboys by Rickie Lee Jones (yes, she of the Chuck-E fame).

You can check it out on spotify here.

The track, Don't Let The Sun See You Crying, is wonderfully beautiful.

reading for pleasure

Alan Davey has some helpful thoughts on summer holiday reading here.

My own holiday reading went like this:

Nocturnes by Kazuo Ishiguro
Reading Paul by Michael Gorman (ok, I admit it: theology - but not John Owen)
Home by Marilynne Robinson (started, not finished)

Nocturnes strikes me as the perfect holiday read. Kazuo Ishiguro is a serious - and seriously good - writer. Here, though, he lets his comic side show; I laughed out loud more than once. It's not a heavy book; it's not a demanding read. It's is a collection of 5 short novellas, united loosely around music and (mostly) night-time. But more compactly united by fame and failure, by pretensions and age.

I would guess he enjoyed writing it.

the great books (vi) - home

To begin, a confession: I haven't finished reading this book yet. To continue, a defence: it belongs on this list, without a shadow of a doubt. It won a prize and deserves to have done so.

Some people say Marilynne Robinson's writing is luminous. Home certainly shines. They say it's profound; they're not wrong. This is writing that is simple and clean, not clever and soiled. It makes no pretences and offers no misplaced thrills. It invades the soul with the stealth of a virus but with none of its venom.

A storyline? Well, only being one third of the way through the book I can't say for sure (and wouldn't want to diminish anyone's experience in reading it). But it's ordinary people, set in the town of Gilead (the terrain for an earlier novel, some of whose characters reappear in this). It's the stuff of life and faith, of failure and love.

One reviewer (quoted on the cover) declares all other writing to 'seem jejune for ages afterwards'. I can imagine not wanting to read anything serious for weeks after the last page is turned.

Part of me never wants this book to end. And part of me scarcely wants to go on, for fear of collapse.

marilynne robinson: home (i)

For her, church was an airy white room with tall windows, looking out on God's good world, with God's good sunlight pouring in those windows and falling across the pulpit where her father stood, straight and strong, parsing the broken heart of humankind and praising the loving heart of Christ. That was church.

Marilynne Robinson, Home, p.52 (my emphasis).

the great books (v) - the black cloud

From really good literature (Greene) to a really good story, with lots of science thrown in to boot. I read Fred Hoyle's The Black Cloud way back in 1976, during third form at Ysgol Glan-Y-Mor in Pwllheli, in company with a couple of friends (Howard Hughes & Andrew Harangozo). As I recall, we were enthralled by the story - it was, for us, real sci-fi; plenty of science, no fantasy elements.

In the years that followed I read most of what Sir Fred wrote - both on his own and in collaboration with his son, Geoffrey (I mean I read his sci-fi books, not his astronomy papers).

For anyone interested in a plot summary, click here.

I'd love to get hold of a copy just to re-read what first opened my eyes to a new genre of writing (new to me, I mean).

the great books (iv) - a burnt-out case

Having studied a Graham Greene novel at 'A' level (The Power and The Glory), I've always had a fascination with his work, not that I have read that many (5 or 6 novels perhaps).

Joining a book club years ago, I was able to pick-up a hardback copy of A Burnt-Out Case for next-to-nothing (we're probably talking 1981) and have read it through a couple of times, although some of the details escape me and demand another reading.

Querry is the hero - or antihero, perhaps - and his spiritual & moral condition is likened to that of a leper in whom the disease has burnt-out. As ever, Greene shows a deep awareness of human sin and brokenness but, perhaps, less of a sure grasp of the possibilities of redemption. You never leave one of his novels rejoicing but you sense a possibility for hope, albeit often dimly perceived.

But a very worthwhile read, none the less.

the great books (iii) - the remains of the day

An elegant, elegaic novel, written in almost sublime English by a Japanese author. First read this book when it was feted as the winner of the Booker Prize (circa 1989). I was hugely impressed. I read it again last year and remained so.

The story is clearly intended to work on many levels, all intertwined. Its narrator, Stevens, is clearly blind to reality; so, too, his employer. And maybe the reader. What is the nature of true service? What is loyalty? And what is the power and importance of love? All sculpted in beautifully-observed prose with a deep respect for words and language.

It was made into a film, starring Anthony Hopkins. Just to say: I've never seen the film but I scarcely doubt it could ever do justice to such a fine piece of writing.

wild animals

I preached not so long ago on Mark 1:9-13 and (from memory) handled Jesus being with the wild beasts in verse 13 as a counterpoint to Adam's original setting in Eden (where the animals were not wild beasts).

Just been reading some comments on that text which suggest a different slant: Jesus was with them as the Messiah-who-brings-peace. That is, the wild beasts were with him in a pacified way, not as threats. In the wilderness, Jesus was already bringing transformation to his creation, undoing the effects of sin.

And, of course, 'wild beasts' has deep OT history as a term that refers to hostile human powers that opposed Israel (think Daniel especially). Is there a hint in Mark that Jesus is going to pacify the hostile powers, making peace (as Paul expressed it) through his blood, shed on the cross? If so, then maybe that hint is strengthened in 15:39 where the Centurion recognises him as the Son of God, the bringer of peace, through the manner of his death.

I'm preaching on this passage again this Sunday morning. It's always great to read things that stimulate further thinking.

how to avoid disconnection

Over at Stepcase Lifehack, Craig Harper has written a piece about disconnection. I particularly liked his suggestions for avoiding disconnection (or making connection); they seem to hold promise for pastoral work, too.

1. Work to build trust and respect. If there’s no trust or respect there can be no real connection. What often appears to be connection is in fact acting and/or manipulation on one person’s part. Simulated rapport I call it. We learn this kind of stuff in basic retail sales training. It’s not connection; it’s role-playing.

2. Ask the right kind of questions. Ask questions that will generate meaningful dialogue; open-ended questions, not yes-no questions. Ask questions which demonstrate that you’re interested in what the other person has to say.

3. Work to increase your awareness and to become an active listener. If you are serious about creating connection with someone then give them one hundred percent of your attention in that moment. Yep; all of it. Don’t be anywhere else (mentally). This is not always easy for us as our cerebral landscape tends be a very busy “place”. However, it is a very valuable skill to develop. Do your best to understand the other person’s perspective and thoughtfully consider the intended meaning of their words. Don’t be like many who simply wait for a gap in proceedings to launch their own self-indulgent monologue. As a general rule, listen more than you speak.

4. Read the non-verbal communication. In any conversation, the words are only part of the message and sometimes, a small part. What people don’t say will often tell you more than what they do. Listen with your eyes as well as your ears.

5. Speak their language. All the talking in the world will result in zero connection if you’re both speaking different languages. And we see this all the time; the boss and the employee, the mother and daughter, the teacher and the student, the tech-dude (Johnny) and the non-tech-dude (me). Lots of words but no understanding, no connection and no positive outcome. While most of us understand English, we all speak our own “language”. What will motivate one person will intimidate another. What will make me laugh will offend my neighbour. What will make complete sense to you could be totally confusing to your parents (think computer). Know who you’re talking with and learn their language if it’s connection you’re after.

the great books (ii) - the great gatsby

This was a book I bought on a recommendation of sorts and it sat (with many others) by my bedside for a few months, unread. I tried to start it but never got anywhere with it - the first couple of pages somehow just didn't draw me in.

I can't remember how it happened but at some stage I was drawn, slowly at first and then without any reserve. There are many layers to why I enjoyed the book so much: an enthralling story of deep human tragedy; the Jazz-age context; the New York setting. It has a lot going for it.

But it's the quality of the writing that really did it for me. Fitzgerald's writing by turn dazzles, intrigues and astonishes. He had a rare gift for conjoining words and images that seem at first sight thoroughly incompatible but which, on further reading, disclose a deep awareness of the possibilities of language.

Surely one of the greatest shorter novels of all time.

The Place I Want To Get Back To (Mary Oliver)

is where
in the pinewoods
in the moments between
the darkness

and first light
two deer
came walking down the hill
and when they saw me

they said to each other, okay,
this one is okay,
let's see who she is
and why she is sitting

on the ground like that,
so quiet, as if
asleep, or in a dream,
but, anyway, harmless;

and so they came
on their slender legs
and gazed upon me
not unlike the way

I go out to the dunes and look
and look and look
into the faces of the flowers;
and then one of them leaned forward

and nuzzled my hand, and what can my life
bring to me that could exceed
that brief moment?
For twenty years

I have gone every day to the same woods,
not waiting, exactly, just lingering.
Such gifts, bestowed,
can't be repeated.

If you want to talk about this
come to visit. I live in the house
near the corner, which I have named
Gratitude.

(from Thirst, p.35f)

the great books (i): the thirty nine steps

The Badger and I have decided to blog 15 of our all-time favourite works of literature and I'm kicking the series off (you can find him at UnChristian Ministry).

My first choice is not a work of high literature but rather of high drama told with great skill. An old-fashioned adventure novel of the highest order that draws you in from the first page and, once there, the fate of Richard Hannay becomes an almost obsessively important part of your life, until the last page is turned and the final denouement complete.

I've read the book a couple of more times over the years (and some time ago seen the similarly-excellent film). I don't actually own a copy of the book, except as an ebook (which is the form in which I last read it a couple of years back). I do, however, currently have a bid on a Folio Society edition on eBay....

I've also read some other Buchan novels, notably Greenmantle, and whilst enjoying them too, I think this, for me, is his best work.

pastoral wisdom

Some verses in Proverbs 20 recently struck me as particularly appropriate for those engaged in pastoral care: one for direction, one for humility, one for hope.

For direction:

The purposes of a man's heart are deep waters,
but a man of understanding draws them out.
(verse 5)

For humility:

A man's steps are directed by the LORD.
How then can anyone understand his own way?
(verse 24)

For hope:

The lamp of the LORD searches the spirit of a man;
it searches out his inmost being.
(verse 27)

Reflections on Getting Things Done (i)

David Allen's (almost) seminal work, Getting Things Done, is a very stimulating read - and not just for those looking for better working practices. I'd like to interact with him, on an occasional basis, starting here: the blurred edges of modern work.

David is quite right, I believe, to point to the changing nature of work for most people as a major factor in mounting stress levels. He quotes Peter Drucker's phrase for the new type of work - knowledge work - that most people are somehow engaged in.

(Of course, doctors and nurses, teachers and firemen and a whole host more are not really doing this kind of work....or are they? More and more those employed in such professions have to handle information demands - it's spreading all over....)

The thing about knowledge work is this, says Allen: "there are no edges to most of our projects. Most people I know have at least half a dozen things they're trying to achieve right now, and even if they had the rest of their lives to try, they wouldn't be able to finish these to perfection." The egdes are ragged; the need for what he terms "cross-divisional communication, cooperation and engagement" is becoming all-pervasive. And to that "we must add...the constantly shifting definition of our jobs". (pp.5,6).

Some reflections:

i. Where there are no edges, no boundaries, there is no shelter, no real home. That matters greatly. We need the security, the rest, of home.

ii. I wonder if it would help to try to recategorise what is required and what is being done. That is, to view knowledge work instead as people work - to learn to focus on the relationships that exist (or that come into existence) rather than on what passes between them (knowledge). Making people primary without knocking knowledge. To learn to see knowledge not as the product but as a conduit, as a means to an end - the goal being people living well (you can fill-in the theological defiition of 'well').

iii. In a world of fuzzy edges with no end in sight for work, where it spills over into every other dimension of life, aided by the ubiquity of email, texts and so on - in such a world, the ability to position that work into a larger framework that has at its heart the creative and benevolent sovereignty of God is of immense importance. I think that's an improtant insight for pastors to work with but it also ought to help all of us, whatever our work.

iv. Knowing that fuzzy edges are held in the grasp of a God who is not only creative but redeeming is a vital breakthrough. Work, even the fuzziest and most blurry-edged, is not futile, is not in vain 'in the Lord'. Somehow, it gets redeemed because Jesus lives and has overcome all the forces of chaos and futility.