wolf hall

It won the Booker Prize for Hilary Mantel and has just made its way into my study, in readiness for some holiday reading in the next few weeks.

Not my usual cup of tea, historical drama, but I'm prepared to give it a go. Mind you, it's huge.

vanhoozer: on pastor-theologians

Kevin Vanhoozer on the type of preachers we need:

The preacher is a “man on a wire,” whose sermons must walk the tightrope between Scripture and the contemporary situation...The pastor-theologian, I submit, should be evangelicalism’s default public intellectual, with preaching the preferred public mode of theological interpretation of Scripture.

(HT: Michael Bird)

keller: how to become a preacher

From the pen of Tim Keller

It is only through doing people-work that you become the preacher you need to be - someone who knows sin, how the heart works, what people's struggles are, and so on. Pastoral care and leadership (along with private prayer) are to a great degree sermon preparation. More accurately, it is preparing the preacher, not just the sermon. Through pastoral care and leadership you grow from being a Bible commentator into a flesh and blood preacher.

kraftwerk: remastered

ok, you may not 'get' them; they're a relatively acquired taste - but for those who do get it, some good news: remastered kraftwerk albums now available on spotify.

for appetite whetting, here's a link to the man machine.

yummy.

the great books (x) - the bell jar

The Bell Jar is Sylvia Plath's celebrated semi-autobiographical account of a descent into clinical depression and its treatment, of the failures of human relationships to secure stability and so much more besides. The struggles of Esther Greenwood (the main character) reflect deep disquiet with the social position of women, parental failures and much more. The lie that love and sex are the same thing is devastatingly exploded.

The writing has a cool objectivity that many have admired but is ultimately deeply disconcerting. The degree of detachment from the pain being described bears too much of the hallmarks of ongoing morbid fascination (or so it seems to me). There is not a shred of triumph here.

I've read this book probably three or four times. The first occasion was in early 1983 and co-incided with great depths of pain; I think for that reason I never made it all the way through the book. Returning to it some years later, and making it the whole way, left me thankful I'd put it down when I did. The sadness is unrelenting, all hope is qualified and life is demarkated as loss.

chris rea in concert

well, playing for radio 2 anyways (he's on tour soon & has a new greatest hits package to promote)

saw him in concert in early '85 at the birmingham odeon - best concert i ever went to.

so, taking advantage of the kindness of the radio 2 folks, here's the man singing his latest single...

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.