Month: May 2020

Looking at the Lectionary, we see that Paul doesn’t push away the beliefs of the Athenians like he would a rotten fish. Instead, he listens to what they have to say, and uses their understanding to frame his explanation of the good news of Jesus Christ.
Acts 17:29 … “Since we are God’s offspring, we ought not to think that the deity is like gold, or silver, or stone, an image formed by the art and imagination of mortals.” Sometimes it seems to me we go one step further even than they did, not saying God is like gold, but gold is God. We prioritise the making of money over people’s lives, especially when those who do the actual work of making wealth (and risking their lives) are not the ones who harvest most of it. We could support people’s incomes – the queues at the food bank are the measure of our society. Some people are already forced to risk their lives because they have no other source of income than the work they do.

It was breezy up towards Torside, and a small shower came across, with what the weather forecasters’ style book calls ‘a wintry mix’. This is not something you’d’ve got in the old-time Woolworths on a chilly day, but rain and sleet and graupel on this occasion.

We pray for all those
who are reeling from
double blow of the virus
and an unfair society.
Give them what they need
and what they deserve.

A vigorous breeze was blowing from the northeast down the lee slope of the hills. There were little bits of drizzle falling from a mostly clear sky, causing an understated rainbow over the silver-green hills. It reminded me of what used to happen in Huddersfield sometimes, with the wind from the west, when I guess clouds would have formed on the windward side of the hills, dissipating on their way down again, but leaving behind little pockets of drizzle still making their slow way groundwards.

Anyway, very much not like yesterday.

Another sunny day outside, some little patches of altocumulus, one or two showing maybe signs of a bit of vertical development. Nice for a walk to the food shop, masked up because of going in the shop. I wonder what the nudgemeisters who run our government think about the idea of altruism as motivation. If it figures at all, they should ask us to wear masks to protect others. I guess the problem is there aren’t enough. Asking people to improvise something may feel like making us second class citizens. Another problem is the mask itself may become a source of contamination, specially if it needs constant adjustment (but I can’t believe that’s worse than directing a stream of festering droplets at your fellow shoppers).

Anyway, these months have been hard for some.

Merciful God, we pray for people
who are finding it hard,
in sickness and in grief,
drinking to stave off the boredom,
trapped indoors with demanding children
or violent husbands.
Give them hope, we pray.

From the Lectionary… Peter 2:7 … “To you then who believe, he is precious; but for those who do not believe, “The stone that the builders rejected has become the very head of the corner,…”. Well, how about that? It turns out that migrant workers are quite important after all, ‘essential’, you might say, and have been foremost in making sacrifices for the health of the rest of us. And the Jesus way, too, which has been accepted, rejected, and accepted in name only throughout history, might turn out to be more important than we think. After centuries of capitalism, it turns out that people need people after all. And, I venture to suggest, people need God too.

I started too late, so a short walk today, on the streets. Plenty of space to walk round people though. Our local chippy was open yesterday for pre-ordered takeways, and I went and got some delicious stuff (too many chips though – we’re having the rest today). Think I managed the protocol more or less OK too.

Generous God…
Everything is yours,
given us in love,
fish, bananas, old pyjamas,
mutton, beef and trout.
…apologies to Python

I hate to say this, God,
but if you have given us everything,
and the talents and energies to make stuff,
why did you also make viruses?
It’s tedious to rehearse our unpreparedness,
our selfishness.
And I know you are with us,
and Christ suffers alongside all
who suffer pain and grief.
But why have viruses in the first place?
Can I welcome them as a necessary part of a huge,
amazing and discoverable Creation?
Not yet, I think, gracious God.

A puffing walk up the road to the T-junction with the back road, which is in the lapwing zone. And sure enough, there were some, doing their thing. That was cheering.

One good thing to come out of this pandemic is that we can learn our lessons, ready for the next time. And there will be a next time.

I saw an aeroplane today.

God of love,
stand with this suffering world
in solidarity and hope.

An early morning walk, and at quarter to seven, the reservoirs were a beautiful flat calm. In half an hour, the wind had stirred and there were waves. Amazing that the seemingly weak sun was enough to cause some air somewhere to warm and rise a fraction and start the mixing down of momentum from the middle layers of the atmosphere. Anyway, the consequence was the lovely play of wave reflections on the trees – see here on YouTube.

I stayed out too long, and by eightish there were lots of dog walkers around, enjoying the sun, which they’re entitled to do.

I don’t really like war metaphors for what is going on at the moment, especially since for most of us, ‘doing our bit’ consists of sitting on our a***s at home. It’s frustrating. There’s nothing stopping me going out and doing something, but I’m not sure what that is. It’s also part of being retired. Anyway, I’m still quite engaged working on my ‘Prayers for Places’ website.

Just now, as I was standing here with a cup of coffee in my hand and a reverie in my head, I was stirred into attention by the sound of coffee hitting the keyboard. No harm done, fortunately – but a warning to be more careful.

Holy Breeze, stir us,
Spirit of God, move us
to love and to do.

Goodbyes are hard. The remorseless certainty of the departing train, the miles and years that will separate someone from the person they love, endless portrayals on film and TV – they remind us that goodbyes are hard. And now the threat of contagion adds to the enforced separations of life.

Jesus tries to reassure his disciples. The reasons he gives can’t have made much sense at the time. Maybe the only reason they found their way into John’s (the strangest) gospel is that the writer, some time afterwards, thought they’d make more sense to a post-resurrection generation of Christians. It doesn’t all make sense to me, yet I am strangely reassured by these words. The basic metaphor is domestic, hospitable. The God of all creation is making the beds, ready to welcome us human beings. “Preparing a place” is the everyday currency of holy love.

These are nervous times. Read the gospel and see if it helps…

A quick walk this morning to our local Tesco, which at half past six was free of deliveries and almost free of customers – a good time to go. Most of the list was ticked off. Because shopping, I wore the face mask that Janet kindly made. It’s so neat, I fear that some people might think it was bought in competition with front line care, health, transport workers. Maybe I need one as flowery as a welder’s hat – or maybe not. It’s been another nice day so far.

God of love, when we are fearful, on edge,
give us peace.
And in our self-absorption, may we not forget
people in need,
those whose lives have been turned upside-down
by the virus,
those who have given everything
to care for and heal others.
We pray also for those whose livelihoods
and food source
have been threatened by locusts in East Africa.

We pray for your peace,
for your justice in the world
and in our hearts.

Here’s next Sunday’s Lectionary. It starts like this… (Acts 7:55) ‘But filled with the Holy Spirit, he [Stephen] gazed into heaven and saw the glory of God and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. “Look,” he said, “I see the heavens opened and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God!” But they covered their ears, and with a loud shout all rushed together against him’.

And then they killed him. They covered their ears, because they did not want to hear what they saw as blasphemy. They didn’t want to hear. Of course, many Christians see the crowd as the ‘baddies’ in this. I want us to consider that there are people all over the world today, ‘covering their ears’. There are books being burnt. According to Wikipedia, ‘The name “Boko Haram” is usually translated as “Western education is forbidden”. Haram is from the Arabic حَرَام (ḥarām, “forbidden”); and the Hausa word boko (the first vowel is long, the second pronounced in a low tone), meaning “fake” which is used to refer to secular Western education.’ Certain kinds of knowledge are outlawed. There are Christians who want to censor what people can read about, hear about or think about. And that’s not necessarily completely out of order. Most people agree it is right to come down hard against child porn, for instance, because of the way children are hurt in its production and the way it feeds the abuse of children.

But, if we Christians are secure enough in our faith (I don’t mean doubt -free), we will not be afraid or learning and knowledge, or of other people’s way of seeing things. The first decades of Christianity grew out of the cultural ferment of the eastern Mediterranean, and we should not be afraid of some cultural fermentation either.

Speaking of fermentation, I might try our last untried bit of old yeast today. It is old, but it’s a different kind from the previous failures, so you never know.

Another nice walk in the early morning, on the far side of the reservoirs, keeping to wide ways on which other people are easily avoided. There seems to be a kind of ‘otherness’ about the world I walk in on these early morning jaunts. It’s hard for people who only have streets.

Went to my first zoom service today. It was strange, but it was also good to be there. I was not always sure of the protocol, so it was a bit like normal church for someone not used to it! Also good to think again and learn about the Lectionary readings I’d poked at in the week.

I think I almost wore the carpet out walking to church.

A lovely morning, with some pastel clouds suggesting that some weather may take place later. I walked Rough Fields and some streets, and was able to keep my distance on a quiet Sunday morning. Later this morning I hope to go to zoom church, having discovered how I can add some GB to my broadband allowance for a month at a time. Anyway, the church thing will be a novelty, and I anticipate awkwardness at some points.

The Psalm today mentions the valley of death’s shadow. It doesn’t feel like that here, on a sunny morning. I am at a time of life when this pandemic has less impact. I’m done with work, so don’t risk a loss of income. There’s one or two local shops, and some others nearby that do delivery. I’m not old or infirm enough to have to stay away from all human contact. But through ties of family and friendship, through the media, I feel the disturbance, the hurt and he fear. I feel I ought to be doing something, but it’s not clear what or how.

No great surprise to find that people who are already poor and marginalised are suffering more. For instance, if your work is precarious and your pay poor, you will go in whatever the consequences. And once the disease gets into an informal settlement, it’ll be hard to stop it.