the adventures of retirement
Walk up to the old quarry this morning to try and get among the clouds. Some cloudiness, but not as complete as I’d expected…
In the Lectionary, the Isaiah reading offers an inclusive vision of the people of God, based on doing what is right. It’s not the only way of seeing things in the Old Testament – but it has connections with belief in Christ and the movement of the early church into all nations.
In Sunday’s Lectionary we read about Jesus and the Canaanite woman. ISTR that ‘Canaanite’ is an intentional anachronism (like it would be to call Sandy Toksvig a ‘Viking’), maybe to remind us about Jesus’ call to the historic ‘house of Israel’. Of course there’s issues here – was Jesus a racist who was persuaded out of his racism – what does it mean for a nation to be called by God – for instance does it excuse the genocide of pre-Columban Americans? It’s hard to pick the bones out of all that stuff at this distance of time and space.
But there’s something more necessary and more simple to be taken home from this, something which is present in a lot of Jesus’ encounters – and that is about faith. Faith is very close to need, or even neediness. Faith that is used by one generation as a tool to impose its will on the next generation has lost its essential need, as it had for the Pharisees. Some churches are full of people whose faith is like this, and when you look into the content of it, it’s about little more than keeping your nose clean and liking Classic FM.
But true faith, I believe, starts from the acknowledgement that I need God, and will always need God, and need God as desperately and embarrassingly as one might need a long-lost lover. Not only do I need God, but my community and my world needs God. We need God.
Whovians will be able to correct me on this, but I think it was Angel Bob who said ‘We have no need of comfy chairs.’ But God is not a comfy chair. It is said that Laplace said of God, “I had no need of that hypothesis” – and indeed we don’t need God to explain the nature of the universe. It’s not for explaining nature that I need God, but for God’s sheer Godness.
Back home now after our time near Ashbourne. Just after midnight as we were trying to sleep in the Bambi, we were clipped by the eastern edge of some spectacular thunderstorms. At first it was quiet, there were distant flashes to the west every second or so, and no sound inside Bambi. As it got closer, the sound increased and eventually the rain came. The going was not like the coming. It just seemed to be dissipating as it moved away. By the time it was out of earshot, there was only an occasional flash. The morning was hot like yesterday, but a good deal less hazy.
Now the clouds to the west are quite nice, although AFAIK we’re too far east to get a huge lot of storminess…
We pray for all people who have been affected by this weather
especially those who’ve been hurt and bereaved
by the derailment in Scotland.
Christ, have mercy.
The Bambi made it and we are near Ashbourne for a day and a bit. It’s fairly posh rolling rural here. There are lots of horses. It has been a hazy, muggy dawn.
Two distinct layers of cloud this morning – fuzzy low cloud blown over the hills from the east, and altocumulus castellanus.
Of the Canaanite/Syrophoenician woman, more later.
A bracing northeasterly first thing, bringing low cloud across from the other side of the hills, along with a trace of drizzle. As I came back west, the sun was beginning to come out, and faint piece of drizzle-bow was just discernible. A twocker has finished his journey at Rough Fields.
I thank you God for the wind
that blows between houses, abandoned cars,
trees, warehouses, tenements,
gritstone edges, reservoirs, playgrounds,
shopping malls, seasides…
…I thank you God for the wind.
Lovely misty morning first thing, with a thin mist clinging to some of the hills…
Later, walking with Janet, I found there was enough refreshing breeze to make waves slap the sides of the reservoir.
Creator God, we thank you for this planet,
with its variety of animals, of habitat, of weather.
But sometimes the weather isn’t the weather we want.
Sometimes the circumstances of our life can be all wrong,
and it’s devastating, even tragic.
God in Christ, be close to us when we need you:
bring healing and a new beginning.
In my cynical moments I sometimes think political programmes are dreamt up in the pub – maybe not so daft after all, as the pub is where they will be discussed by us. This is from AE Housman’s A Shropshire Lad 62…
“And malt does more than Milton can
To justify God’s ways to man.
Ale, man, ale’s the stuff to drink
For fellows whom it hurts to think:
Look into the pewter pot
To see the world as the world’s not.”
Lots of people out early this morning, enjoying the nice weather before it gets too hot. The breeze is light, there’s no rain, and it’s getting sunnier.
Supplementary walk this morning, going down the hill I usually go up, on the way to meet Janet. The steep down bit seemed much steeper than it was on the way up, a real joint-banger.
Apparently it’s going to be really hot in the southeast. I’m glad I’m not there: I hope H&T are OK.
The softness of the clouds, the stillness of the water, the smell of the bracken…
The image doesn’t really convey it, but something about the light today made me realise just how much darker it was walking under trees than on the open sections of the path. It felt deeply gloomy. Then you come out into the open, and it’s day! There’s even small suggestions of blue sky near the southern and eastern horizons. It was muggy, breezy, but dry – I’m not confident that the dryness will last, though. I’m never quite sure how to take the weather forecast – we’re in the southeast of the northwest, or if you like, the northwest of the east midlands. Plus we sit on some west-facing slopes and occasionally in the shadow of some Welsh mountains. I usually go by TV transmitter, not county, which makes us northwest. (As I may have mentioned…) We’re only about a mile away from Tameside in the Manchester COVID zone, and Tameside is our local hospital. The railway and bus connections mostly look towards Manchester. If you get up early enough in the morning, you can see that we’re in the Manchester TTWA.
Companion Christ, as we stumble in the darkness,
lead us on, keep us going
until we walk in the light again.