John 15...

Jesus said:

I’m the mobile phone network and you are the iPhones.  If you don’t have my SIM card installed in you, you can’t connect to the network and then you can’t use all your apps.  If you aren’t connected to the network then you are a useless bit of kit and God will tidy you away.  But when you have my SIM card fitted in you, you will be able to be useful and helpful, with lots of good apps and people will know that you are connected to a really good network.

Spiritual Director? Problem solved!

I’m doing a lot of extremely heavy reading about the theology of Baptist Church meetings for an essay and I need some light relief in between times.  I’ve returned, as I often do, to an old favourite; the Starbridge series by Susan Howatch.  This series of six novels portray the history of the Church of England in the 20^th Century through the lives of some fictional clergymen (they were all men in those days!) from different wings of the Anglican Church as they wrestle with the inner and outer forces at work in their lives.

I first read them probably in the late nineties and have re-read them regularly ever since with a growing sense of understanding.  When I first read them the human stories were gripping but I didn’t understand the references to theologians and theological movements, which didn’t matter in the least.  Now I have done a bit of reading and so when one of the protagonists protests about Karl Barth’s influence on the neo-conservative movement I actually get what they’re talking about and I feel a little frisson of pleasure about it (that’s how sad I have become!) as well as still enjoying the tales of people trying to serve God whilst grappling with their human failings.

In my minister’s cluster we were recently discussing spiritual direction; what it’s for, the pros and cons, how to find one and what to look for in one.  I said “Has anyone read the Starbridge novels, because if you have, you’ll understand when I say I want Jon Darrow for my spiritual director”.  A colleague started nodding and a side discussion of the novels ensued, with us discussing which character we would want for our spiritual director!

The Return of the Prodigal

I was reflecting on this famous painting the other day. Actually at a very nice lady’s funeral – she liked the painting so it was on display during the service.  As I looked at it I was dramatically struck, in a way I hadn’t been before, of the postures of the three main characters.  The son is, as might be expected, kneeling abjectly at the feet of his father.  He looks tatty and half-starved, because he is.  He’s made a big mess-up and he knows it and he hopes the father will allow him to work as a servant on the farm.  The father has responded to this by embracing the son; his arms enfold him, drawing his face into the father’s robes, surrounding him with the warmth and safety of his cloak.  What a rush of relief the Prodigal’s heart must feel to be pulled back into the familiar smell and feel of his father’s love.  The father’s face is gentle and accepting, full of love.

But off to the side is another figure, and to me he almost looks incidental to the painting, like he wandered in by mistake.  He seems to unbalance the picture, and simply stands staring down at the display in front of him, hands protectively across his chest.  He is richly dressed, and his face appears to be disapproving and remote.  Who is he?  He could be a passing official, a customer, anything unconnected with the story.  But he is actually the older brother.  He is the one who stayed with the father after the son left, but it doesn’t look like he had much joy of it.   I don’t know what your family is like; mine isn’t super close, but I can say for definite that if one of my siblings disappeared and was thought dead I would be heart-broken.  And if that sibling then returned after some time I would not be standing around looking disapproving.  Despite all our ups and downs I love my sisters and brother and their safe return home would make any differences and squabbles trivial compared to the great joy of knowing that my family was once more safe and whole.  I would be happy for my parents, having watched them suffer a period of sadness thinking they had lost a child.  To know that they didn’t have to live with that pain any more would mean something to me.

That’s the point of the story though.  We’ve lost sight of it because of its familiarity, but Jesus was talking to a group of religious leaders who were moaning that he was welcoming the wrong sort, and this was his response to that.  Because for the last two thousand years we’ve identified with the younger son, we haven’t noticed that we might have become the older son.  We are safe at home in church where we have everything the way we want it, but when younger sons turn up having made big messes we are more interested in the rules they have broken than the knowledge that our family is whole again.  That’s what struck me about the painting: the thing that is so wrong about the painting is not the son or the father’s behaviour, it’s the older brother whose posture jars so badly.  He shouldn’t be standing out there looking daggers, he should be in the thick of the embrace of his family.

There was a delicate synergy at work here, because the lady whose funeral I was at was a member of the welcoming team at church and she was one of the most welcoming and embracing people I knew.  She had a way of offering a kindness and acceptance to all who came through the door that was truly beautiful and she will be greatly missed by many.

More on my talented daughter

Very atmospheric

My daughter Ellie is going on a trip to Kosovo this summer with the church youth group.  They’re going to help out in an orphanage and spend some time seeing what it’s like there.  The group have been coming up with a variety of schemes to raise money for their trip, such as car washing and baby sitting.  But Ellie had a stroke of genius:  Ellie’s Pop-up Restaurant.  For £10 a head Ellie will cook and serve a three course meal (chosen from the menu she has designed) at our house.  For a further £10 her friend will baby-sit.  All the money goes to the Kosozo trip.

Anticipation

Yesterday evening was her opening night, with the lovely S family coming for dinner.  Ellie spent the afternoon preparing food and laying the table.  The menu was:

• Fresh Tomato Bruschetta

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• Salmon Tikka with Cucumber Raita and Naan Bread for Mrs and Ms. S
• Cauliflower and Macaroni Cheese for Mr S

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• Banoffee Pie for Mr & Mrs S
• Warm Chocolate Brownie for Ms S

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• Coffee and Mints

Chocolate Brownie

 The table looked lovely and the food was delicious, and Ellie cooked and served everything with great style and skill.  The S family were great customers and enjoyed themselves a lot.  Ellie was tired but happy and hoping for more bookings.  

Banoffee Pie

There’s plenty of  Saturdays between now and August when they go, so book early to avoid disappointment J

A new source of reading goodness

I love reading – if I’m stuck somewhere and I’ve got nothing to do I have to read something, which is one of the reasons I love my iPhone so much.  As long as I’ve got some internet access I can get something to read to pass the time.  I just wish I could read while I’m driving.  And before you shout, talking books don’t work for me quite so well, but they’re better than nothing.

So when I find a new resource with lots of things to read I get very excited and want to share the love.  Third Way magazine has been around for ages (since 1977 apparently) and you can pay £38 for a year’s subscription, which I’m thinking about doing.  But, while I’m thinking about that, the archives from 1977 to 2008 are available online via Google Books!!! That’s 31 years of 12 issues a year available for online perusal!

Oh dear…this is going to be a serious challenge to my self-discipline when I’m supposed to be reading for an essay.

You can find Third Way here and there’s a link in the tabs to the archives.  Happy Reading.

Pet Peeve

Sometimes I find myself sitting down with a cuppa and flicking on the TV and it just so happens that the program that is on is "UK Border Force".  I have to say, it's the bottom end of reality TV and I'm not sure why I bother.

There is one feature though that it has in common with many other crime reality shows and that is the way many in the law enforcement community refer to "males" and "females".  In my first life I was a zoologist (briefly) and these terms are used as nouns to describe animals when you need to distinguish gender.  So if you're watching a group of elephants you might say "The large male is walking towards the females".

In my mind this is OK when you're talking about animals but not humans.  When you refer to someone as a man or a woman you also make a statement about their humanity because these words are only ever used about humans.  When you use male or female as a noun when talking about people it seems to me to have a de-humanising effect.

So to return to UK Border Force; the Calais immigration team have found a group of Vietnamese immigrants stowing away in a truck. One of the team says, in a very sympathetic tone "Oh no, there's a couple of little females in here".  In my head she's found a box of kittens, or a nest of baby mice.  But she hasn't, and her tone, which is meant to sound kind, I find disturbing.  What she has found, cowering behind the cargo, is two young women.  She treats them kindly and carefully, given that she has to arrest them as illegal immigrants, but she has already done the worst thing she can to them by referring to them in a way that reduces their humanity and infantilises them.

It something that seems to happen a lot in law enforcement reality shows; police officers talk about IC3 males, or young white females.  They may be criminals but they are actually Asian men and white girls.  It seems to be a result of creating jargon to categorise and encode people for reports, but there's a danger that, as people stop talking about men and women and start using these oddly biological terms, we reduce human beings to animals not only in our paperwork but in our minds, and once people become less than human in our minds it makes it easier to treat them as less than human.

What is it Bartholomew?

“What is it Bartholomew?”

“Sorry to bother you Peter, but these kids want to see the Master”

Peter steps out of the doorway.

Twitching about behind Bartholomew are a handful of tatty looking children.  The oldest looks to be about ten, and she’s holding a chubby toddler.  The toddler looks sleepy and has obviously recently eaten something sticky; his hands and face are glazed with a mixture of it and some unpleasant looking mucus.  The girl looks scrawny and wary; her jeans are a bit too small and her coat has a rip in the sleeve.  She’s obviously the leader of a group that includes an assortment of children aging from about four up to a similar size to the girl.

Peter’s heart sinks.  Being the Master’s tour manager is hard enough, what with the groupies, the poor, and the downright wicked, never mind the gang of sick people hovering and humming at a distance like flies.  But children!

Each person takes up so much time; they whine about problems and illness and ask stupid questions.  And the information pack won’t shut them up; they just want to get in to see him in person.  The Catering Manager is trying to get hold of him, the on-site hygiene facilities team has a broken down truck and that Health and Safety Risk Assessment Document is only half done.  Peter can’t remember the last time he was in bed before midnight and he has a constant tweak of pain just above his right eye.

Peter muses about how it all started.  Andrew said he was a wonder worker and Peter instantly saw himself as a big man, a man on the way, a man of importance.  He never thought he would be worrying about Portaloos.

And now this!  He takes Bartholomew off to one side. 

“The thing is” he whispers “The thing is, the whole operation’s geared for adults.  If we’re going to let children in we’ll have to provide chaperones, there’ll need to be a safeguarding policy, We’ll have to get everybody CRB checked.  We’ll need to get changing mats.  It’s all just too complicated”

Bartholomew nods.

“But they’ve been waiting all day” he presses.  “They’ve driven me crackers.  They’ve climbed on everything, eaten everything they could find, the baby has been sick twice, and weed on my shoe.  I swear one of those boys has been picking pockets, and they’ve been shouting rude names at the old ladies”

“Well that settles it” says Peter decisively “We can’t let kids like that in.  And in any case they won’t understand what he’s talking about; I hardly do a lot of the time”

“But they’ve waited all day”

“A problem, Peter?”

Peter spins round.

“No Master, we’re just getting rid of them.  Sorry to have bothered you with such a rabble”

The Master sighs and grins at Peter and Bartholomew, then he sits down on the step and beckons to the children.  He takes the snotty baby off the girl and cuddles it onto his lap.  It promptly wipes its face on his shirt and falls asleep. 

“So what are your names then?  Come and tell me where you’re from”

The children gather round, and the waiting queue of people sees what’s happening and comes over to listen. 

The Master draws one of the little boys towards himself and puts his arm round the boys shoulder.  The boy relaxes and leans against him.

“Let me tell you what my Father’s Kingdom is like”

Light of the world

I’ve spent the morning as I have spent a lot of time in the last couple of weeks, looking for and reading resources  about the place of the child in the church.  It’s for an essay I’m writing but it’s also my pet subject, being a youth pastor and all.  As I was electronically ‘leafing’ through an issue of Theology Today I came across this:

Lightbearer

Harold McCurdy  

The acolyte,
A little girl in white,
Stands tiptoe in her sandals
To reach the candles. 

The flames flare,
Lengthen, grow steady there,
In silence celebrating
The Word we are awaiting, 

 And the Word already bright
In the small acolyte
Who, tiptoe in her sandals,
 Lighted the candles.

  

The more I read it the more it seeps into my heart as I reflect on the idea that not only do I minister to the child because it’s my job, but that somehow the child ministers the Word to me.

Am I being persecuted?

Every so often something happens to create a flurry of news about Christians being under siege in the UK.  There’s been another couple of examples this week, and so various commentators and websites have a go around things like:

• ·         This never happens to Muslims/hindus (insert other faith of choice here) because that wouldn’t  be politically correct (the Left Wing/Labour conspiracy argument)
• ·         Christians are being persecuted and they shouldn’t be because this is a Christian country
• ·         All religions are fairy tales so no religion should be allowed to say or do anything in public

And so on.

I’m a Christian, so I’m coming at this from a particular point of view.  I’m also a minister so I have a public role, and am involved in some community things because of it.  I do feel slightly irritated about things like the anti-gay B&B owners row, because it is true that many Jews and Muslims  have issues with homosexuality in the same way many Christians do, and for the same reasons, but they don’t seem to find themselves in the media spotlight in quite the same way.

However, I don’t think that Christians are being persecuted in this country.  I can say and do mostly what I like, as long as I don’t break the law, and I don’t feel that I am in danger of my life because of my beliefs.  There are Christians in the world who cannot meet together to worship without fear, or who are imprisoned or executed because of their faith.  That’s persecution. 

I also don’t feel we are particular victims of any kind of campaign.  I think we sometimes fall foul of the complex web of tolerances and freedoms that are at work in British society at the moment.  This web means that there is freedom of speech, but not if what you say incites racial hatred.  There is freedom of sexual expression, but not if you want to have sex with children.  There is freedom of religion, but not if you are teaching killing people as part of your religion.

In my view, as a Christian, I have to earn the right to a public say on things by what I am involved in.  So in my role as a Youth Pastor I am talking to the local council as they build a new Young People’s centre.  I get to be involved because I am encouraging my youth group to get involved in their community through this.  I don’t get asked because I’m a church leader, though, and it wouldn’t be right if I did.  And I definitely don’t expect to be invited to say a prayer at any point – why in earth would I?  However, I do expect to be able to talk about faith matters with young people if that’s what they want because that’s enshrined in the government’s own agenda for young people*. 

I also wouldn’t want there to be religious exception clauses for matters of conscience.  That’s a slippery slope I don’t want to see.  If we had that, then some sections of the community could argue that it’s alright to mutilate a woman’s genitals when it is done for religious reasons, or that it’s a religious practice to beat up a child because they are a witch.  If I had a job which challenged my conscience then I have to make a choice between staying or leaving, and would have to choose leaving.

As Christians we need to remember our founder’s words about losing our lives, taking up our crosses and be prepared to not grasp at equality but to be servants to the world.  Salt is strong, with a powerful flavour, yeast has an amazing effect on dough, but both disappear into the foods they are flavouring, preserving and leavening.

And we definitely should not respond like the good folks of Cranston, Rhode Island who made death threats against 16 year old Jessica Ahlqvuist and referred to her as an “evil little thing” because she claimed that the display of a prayer on school premises violated the 1^st Amendment of the US constitution and went to court to make her case (and won).

*Every Child Matters

A blog about Ellie

Ellie has just been reading my blog and wants me to write something about her.  So what can I tell you about Ellie.  She’s fourteen years old and turning into a woman before my eyes.  Sometimes the way she does it is absolutely glorious; sometimes it’s more complicated but she’s getting there.  She’s very clever, she’s good at languages and science, she’s creative and has a great sense of fun.  Her bedroom is full of things she’s made or altered; at the moment she’s into decorating things with nail varnish and the results are reminiscent of aboriginal art in their flowing beauty.

Ellie's art

I think she’s inherited my sense of justice, so she often gets angry about things that she thinks aren’t fair and I’m pleased about that.  She is developing a finely tuned sense of what’s right and wrong, and has a deep desire to do good, rather than evil.  She’s working out what that means for her, and how she can win her inner battles and she’s often very courageous in how she does that. 

My hope for her is that she will be able to grow into a woman who is confident about her personhood and womanhood.  I want her to know deep in her soul that she is ultimately and inherently valuable and precious; that she is precious because she is a woman and a human being.  I wish the world would be easier for her as a woman, but I fear that it isn’t.  I see the pressure on teenage girls to focus on their looks, to be attractive in the eyes of men, and to ignore the beauty of their inner selves and I want to help Ellie to be strong enough to know that her inside is what matters.

I want her to be someone who is known as just, kind, and gentle in heart.  I pray that she will know Jesus as her first love, but in the end that’s between her and him.  I don’t care what she does for a living, but I want her to stand on her own two feet and know the worth of hard work, done well.  Most of all I want her to be loved; she is now, me and her Dad love her to bits, but I want her to love herself as well.

Sunday Night Cinema

Tree of Life

It’s not often I don’t have an opinion on something, but I haven’t got one yet on Tree of Life (Dir. Terrence Malick)  It’s very deep and is trying to say some profound things about the meaning of life.  The trouble is I’m not sure if it does, and if it does I’m not sure what it is saying.  It’s about life, the universe and everything (quite literally) and I’ve seen it described as impressionistic.  I think the thing that makes it difficult is that it appears to have a narrative structure, but that isn’t the thing that’s important; what’s important are the questions it raises in the viewer about their own life.  I think I’ll watch it again, but I’ll need to be in the right mood.

It fails the Bechdel test and I noticed.  I was also troubled by a casual portrayal of domestic violence, but maybe I was meant to be troubled.

The Way

In contrast to Tree of Life I totally got The Way, and loved it.  It’s a more straightforward narrative, with a basically simple story line, but the simplicity of the story-telling brings out the beauty and profundity of the human relationships portrayed.  It’s a film about a father dealing with the death of his son, starring Martin Sheen, directed by his son Emilio Estevez (who makes cameo appearances as the son) and there’s something quite touching about a father and son working through some stuff like this; in that sense it’s a bit like “On Golden Pond” where Henry and Jane Fonda worked together shortly before Henry’s death. 

This also fails the Bechdel test but I didn’t notice so much; but it’s a shame that such a quality film didn’t manage some better women.  Why is it that “women” films are seen as a niche market, whereas a film like this which is a film about men’s relationships is seen as a film about human relationships?

It's all a bit quiet...

Add your own whistling wind sound effects

...but I'm still here.

I'm back at Regent's Park writing like a loon to finish part 1 of my MTh.  Good news is that I've finished my third essay (How do theological reflections on Covenant and Grace inform a discipline policy at a Youth Club?), edited the second (Talking to Twi-hards and Potterheads: How can a dialogical approach to mission shape an approach to fantasy film youth sub-cultures?)  and agreed a question for the last one ("He put a child in the midst of them" How does the presence of young people challenge Baptist theologies of the Church Meeting?).

I'm doing the reading for the last essay, hence the quietness, trying not to start thinking about whether Christians are being persecuted (because if I do I might need to write a blog) and thinking about what to write for my piece for this blog:   40 Baptist Voices

Oh...and my day job!!!

Musings on M&S Food adverts

Those of you who know me know that I love to cook and I love to eat nice food.  I like to offer hospitality and see feeding people well as a way of sharing in the goodness of creation, celebrating friendship, making them feel at home and cared for.  Some are beginning to re-examine and re-claim hospitality as a Christian virtue.

Obviously that can, and sometimes does, tip over into weirdness such as feeding people as the only way you can show you care, or insisting that people clean their plates even when they are full.  The whole food thing has become such an issue with questions about eating disorders, obesity, hunger and famines. 

Here’s an interesting quote. 

“If anyone says that sex, in itself, is bad, Christianity contradicts him at once. But, of course, when people say, 'Sex is nothing to be ashamed of,' they may mean 'the state into which the sexual instinct has now got is nothing to be ashamed of'. If they mean that, I think they are wrong. I think it is everything to be ashamed of. There is nothing to be ashamed of in enjoying your food: there would be everything to be ashamed of if half the world made food the main interest of their lives and spent their time looking at pictures of food and dribbling and smacking their lips.” ― C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

It comes from that seminal Christian work by C S Lewis, Mere Christianity, and it was published in 1952.  Lewis is actually discussing sexual ethics, and talking about the nature of human appetites.  He’s trying to say that sex in itself isn’t bad, but what we do with it can be, and distorting sexuality into an obsession fed by pornography isn’t a good thing.  To illustrate this he asks if we could imagine pictures dedicated to displaying food that entice people to the point of addiction.  Such things scarcely existed in the post-war years and the idea that they might in the future seemed so ridiculous to Lewis, he used it as a kind of reductio ad absurdam, an argument pushed beyond any common sense.

I wonder what Lewis would have thought about the magazines and TV programmes dedicated to the production and consumption of food that have blossomed in the last 20 or so years?  And what would he have made of the M&S food ads on the telly (voiced so temptingly at the moment by Matthew Mcfadyen – lovely Matthew)?

We have a strange relationship with our appetites don’t we?  From a Christian perspective we celebrate God’s good creation, we appreciate the natural beauty of animals and people (lovely Matthew again), we give thanks for the food that sustains our bodies, and we appreciate that it tastes good.  We give and share it to initiate and develop friendships and caring for others.  We love the beauty and creativity of the things we make: the lovely Ferrari, the ingenious iPhone, the Mona Lisa, Gloucester Cathedral, Venice.  When we talk about sex we say it is a good gift of God, and we celebrate the intimacy it brings.

It’s a tough one, these things are not by their nature bad, but something happens in us that makes them into something that is less than what their creator planned.  Is it because we want to own these things in a way that stops us from remembering that, although we are made in God’s image, we are not God and we do not ultimate create and sustain anything?  Is it because we think we can control them somehow, although in a large sense we don’t?  I wouldn’t want to become so detached from earthly pleasures that I went around in a hair shirt eating gruel, but it’s a challenge to keep those pleasures, and myself, in perspective. 

An interesting new publication!

In light of all the hoo-ha about the masculine feel of Christianity etc.  What are we to make of the publication of this book?

The Resignation of Eve: What if Adam's Rib is no longer willing to be the Church's backbone?

I haven't read it, but the blurb says:

Why millions of today’s most committed church members may be ready to bolt—and what to do about it 

In talking with women around the country, Jim Henderson has come to believe that an epidemic of quiet, even sad resignation is developing among dedicated Christian women who feel overworked and undervalued in the church. As a result, many women are discouraged. Some, particularly young women, respond by leaving the organized church . . . or walking away from the faith altogether.
The Resignation of Eve is a field report on what women have to say about how they’ve been affected—both positively and negatively—by their experiences within the church. Listening to their stories is crucially important because, across the board, the research shows that women are driving changes in the church. What will happen if many of them resign?
It’s time to pay attention before it’s too late—time to follow in the footsteps of Jesus, who went out of his way to honor, elevate, and work through women wherever he went.
Containing personal interviews with women and surprising research from George Barna, The Resignation of Eve is a game-changing, conversation-starting book for women who have been engaged in the Christian church, as well as for their pastors and ministry leaders."

Has anyone read it yet?

Shame - what I don't want in my work

I’m reading this book (Shame: Theory, Therapy, Theology by Stephen Pattison) in connection with an essay I’m writing theologically reflecting on discipline in youth club contexts.  The general idea is that the leaders of a youth club have to manage behaviour so that young people are safe physically and emotionally.  This means that the leaders, who are usually adults, need to be able to do something in relation to young people that addresses behaviour where that safety is compromised.

There are some limits, and rightly so, on what adults can do in this situation.  We can’t use any kind of corporal punishment, and it isn’t good practice to use manipulations such as ridicule or threats, again rightly so.  Stephen Pattison makes a very strong case that shame is more pervasive and destructive than we might initially think, and that Christian faith, and church communities, are particularly vulnerable to problematic shame. 

He discusses the impact that being shamed by others can have in later life and describes some of the ways shaming happens.  This has led me to reflect on the way I work with young people.  I wonder if there are things I do unconsciously which have a shaming effect?  When you work with young people there’s a certain amount of banter that goes on both between young people, and between young people and adults working with them.  The risk is that this can cross a line and become something that is damaging or shaming to young people. 

Another situation that might induce shame is where someone’s failure is pointed out to them, especially if others witness it.  It occurred to me that one of the things we use as a sanction in our youth club might be doing this.  If a young person is behaving in a way that impacts safety and refuses to stop when asked, then we might call their family and ask them to take their son or daughter home.   This will have the effect of shaming that young person to the people that matter the most to her or him.

I’m still pondering Pattison’s writing but I know I would never want to add to the burden of shame so many people carry.  There are some examples of Jesus interacting with wrong-doers and he seems to avoid adding to their shame.   In the story of Zacchaeus, everyone knows Zacchaeus has done wrong but Jesus’ action in inviting himself round for a meal seems almost the opposite of shaming.  Similarly, when he speaks to the Samaritan woman in John 4 and the woman caught in adultery in John 8, he manages to address their wrong actions but also to avoid shaming them any further than they already have been.  

So my question is: How does that translate into dealing with behaviour in the youth club?  To ask the obvious question: If Jim kept waving the pool cue around like that at Youthspace Capernaum, What Would Jesus Do?

Who is the Ring Bearer in Lord of the Rings?

This might be construed as similar to the question “Who was the naturalist on the HMS Beagle”  to which everyone says “Charles Darwin”.  Of course he wasn’t the naturalist, someone else was;  he was sailing as companion to the captain. 

I started to think about this question because I was reading the blogs written in response to this blog: 

Rachel Held Evans on Masculinity in the church

One blogger discussed the meaning of the word “helper” in the phrase from Genesis “I will make a helper suitable for him” which turns out to be the woman.  The blogger said that the helper is not the subordinate sidekick the word suggests but rather someone who rides to the rescue.  Others have argued that it is the same term that is used for the Holy Spirit and therefore does not imply any sense of inferiority.

I can’t explain why but the image that came to me was Samwise Gamgee in Lord of the Rings.  A very flat reading of the story would suggest that Frodo is the hero, the ring bearer, the main character, and Sam is the rather lumbering, loyal, servant and sidekick who follows on, doing as he’s told, cooking meals when necessary.  A bit like a wife, maybe?

However, my view has always been that Sam’s role is the pivotal one; in fact I would argue that he is the ring bearer.  Towards the end of the film Frodo is struggling to climb Mount Doom and Sam urges him to let him finish the mission and take the ring.  Frodo refuses, believing that he alone can bear the burden.  Sam’s response is to tell Frodo that he will carry him then, which Sam proceeds to do.  Finally the mission is successful and Sam carries Frodo away from the mountain.

My reading of this is that Frodo believes that only he is strong enough and capable of carrying the ring.  He also believes that he alone has been called to carry it.  He accepts Sam’s support but doesn’t really view him as part of the mission, in fact at one point he tries to leave Sam behind.  The story shows however, that not only is Frodo not the only one called to the task, he is not capable of carrying it out alone.  He is too flawed, too weak and too self-absorbed to succeed.  In the end it is Sam’s determination to carry out his calling to destroy the ring that enables it to happen; a calling that Frodo doesn’t recognise.

I would take this metaphor further and note that although it was Sam and Frodo who finally threw the ring into the fire, they wouldn’t have got that far without the rest of the Fellowship.  Each played a key role in the success of the mission, even though they were all flawed, weak and failing.  Each brought something unique to the mission, be it the warrior Boromir – lovely Sean, the king, Aragorn – lovely Viggo, axeman Gimli, the cheeky boys Merry and Pippin or whoever*. 

What a perfect image for the church; many different gifts, many flawed imperfect people, all called by God  and valued by him.  You could say I’ve made a perfect complementarian case, but actually I suggest that Frodo failed because he did the thing that the complementarians do; he dismissed the call on other people’s lives because he was too focussed on himself and his own call, rather than thinking about the best way to do the mission they were all called to.  So to answer my starting question: The ring bearers were Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin, Gimli, Legolas, Aragorn, Gandalf and Boromir.

*long blonde hair – lovely Orlando!

**It’s interesting to reflect that the women in LOTR tend to be in decorative and supporting roles.  I suggest this says more about Tolkien’s male dominated Oxford milieu than anything else.

Feeling accomplished

Yesterday I wrote nearly 1,000 words for my MTh Essay!!! and a 750 word blog.  That's some pretty good productivity for me.

Also, I figured out how to attach a favicon to my blog - that's a little image that shows up in your tabs, or favourites next to my Blog...it's a tiny little bee.  Did you spot it?

I think on balance I'm most pleased about the bee; every time I see it on my bookmarks bar it makes me smile.

Although the 1,000 words means I'm half way through the essay....

What I am looking at at the moment

There’s been a load of new TV series with potential, and a couple of books I’ve quite liked:

New Girl – the one everyone’s buzzing about with Zooey Deschanel.  My Dad always used to say that John Wayne wasn’t an actor; he only ever played himself, but it was so good you wanted to watch it over and over, so he made a decent living out of it.  I suspect that Zooey might be the same, but I’m not sure how long we’ll want to go on watching cute and kooky.  Plus, when she’s 73 it might not work so well…although Estelle Getty and Jessica Tandy seemed to manage OK on that one.  Anyhoo, that said, New Girl is quite fun, with an occasional nice twist.  This week Jess was being over-bearing about being emotional open and sharing about something she’d seen, much to her male flatmate’s horror.  This all seemed very predictable until the moment Nick stopped her in her tracks by calling her on not being able to use the proper words for what my daughter referred to as a “privacy area” when she was little.

Verdict:  I’ll stick with it and see how it goes.

Suits – This is a bit of a hidden gem lurking away on Tuesday nights on Dave.  It’s about lawyers and offices and business stuff, but in a rather interesting way.  The two main characters are interesting and nicely balanced, with good supporting characters, including the fact that the head of the prestigious law firm in New York is a black woman.  Yay for a good, strong female boss who kicks butt.  It fits into the slot in my TV life filled recently by CSI and House.

Verdict:  I’m recording it for weekly watching so I’m impressed so far

The Big Bang Theory – saved the best TV till last.  It’s just genius; really Sheldon Cooper ought not to have any friends because he’s a nightmare, but he does and they are very rich characters, although the humour often derives from them veering into caricature.  It’s a bit like Friends, in that as you get to know the characters you know how they’ll react so you start giggling when you know what’s coming, but then there is an occasional curveball.  So Rajesh is painfully shy and can’t speak in front of women, unless he is drunk.  One night he gets drunk and he and Penny end up in bed.  The next morning you think “Surely now he’ll be able to speak to her” but no, he is still struck dumb!

Verdict:  I’m hooked

Rivers of London and Moon over Soho by Ben Aaronovitch – I do love me some crime thriller, and I do love me some supernatural stuff, so put the two together and I’m double happy.  These two books feel like the start of a series that could run and run, and I really hope it does.  The characters are so well written, and the plots so tight and clever that I’m feeling slightly bereft that I’m going to have to wait until June for number 3.  If Harry Potter is Mallory Towers and Billy Bunter meet magic, RofL is Poirot and Miss Marple meet  magic, without the horrendous plot holes Agatha Christie let slip.  Also, they would make fantastic telly, much better that the utterly ridiculous Eternal Law (ITV) about which the less said the better.

 

Verdict:  I’m pining for number 3

The Ghost – a political thriller by Roman Polanski.  The reviews on IMDB were very complimentary and I cannot for the life of me fathom out why.  It was meant to be a dark sophisticated thriller with plot twists and sinister overtones about global conspiracies but really it was just silly.  It was blatantly obvious who was the baddy from very early on, Ewan McGregor’s character was so thick and trusting it was unbelievable and the film didn’t so much finish as stop because there was no way out of the plot’s weird combination of simplistic and over-complex.  It is not possible for even the CIA to organise a hit and run accident in the time it takes for someone to walk out of a building and cross the street!!!  As punishment, Mr Polanski should be made to watch Tinker Tailor (any version, Alec Guiness or Gary Oldman) until he understands what a complex political thriller really looks like.

Verdict:  That’s two hours of my life I can’t get back.  The only redeeming feature was the Malteasers my husband gave while we were watching.

This is not the political thriller you were looking for

That reminds me of a McFly song

This is it!

I was straightening my hair this morning and admiring the colour; the most outrageous my hairdresser and I have ever gone with it, when I totted up the various products on it.  I used shampoo and conditioner.  So far, so normal.  Then a leave-in rescue treatment while it was wet.  OK.  Then I blow dried it, then added some sprays (or spritzes as they say in the fashion mags) of Thermal Styling Protectant and then straightened it.  This makes a grand total of four products!!  All of this is on top of the six different colours the talented Helen* put in it last week!!!

And why is this interesting I hear you ask?  Well, let me tell you about my skin care routine:  nothing.  That’s it.  I rinse my face with water in the shower and dry it on a towel.  If it’s very cold and wet I might feel the need for a little moisturiser, in which case it’s cheapish supermarket stuff, but mostly I don’t bother.

You’re still wondering whether you are going to get interested anytime soon aren’t you?  My reflection on this was that I do the hair thing for two reasons:  the first is that it makes a difference, if I do what I did my hair looks nice and shiny and styled and quite eye-catching; the second that it’s because playing with my hair, particularly colouring it, feels like fun and creativity.  It’s for me and my own pleasure. 

The skin care thing doesn’t seem to make any difference: I’m fifty this year and my face shows it.  I’ve got a slight extra chin thing going on, laugh lines that suggest I’ve watched Sarah Millican** non-stop for the last 25 years, and bags under my eyes that tell you I probably drink a bit too much coffee and read a bit too late at night!  But on the whole it’s an OK face for who I am and slathering cleansers and other gook on it doesn’t feel life-enhancing in the way that messing with the hair does.

So I’ll stick with the hair being 6 different shades of pink and orange, and I might stick a bit of mascara on if I can be faffed, but that’s your lot – I’ve got other things to do.

*I’d tell you about Real Hairdressing in WB, but I want to be able to get an appointment.

** Genius British comedian – I can recommend her Chatterbox DVD

Becoming Becca Dean

 I know I’m supposed to be becoming more Christ-like but somehow when it comes to coffee shops and blogging, Mizz Dean* inspires me, so here’s a coffee shop review:

A cosy corner for chatting

I had my third lunch in seven days in the rather nice Copper on Central Avenue in West Bridgford.  This pleasant spot does function as a kind of annex to most of the churches of the area, as I rarely go in without seeing someone or other I know.  This makes it all feel rather cosy.  That and the fact that it is rather cosy, does very nice lunches, and the cakes are utterly amazing.  They are the best bit really – tantalisingly displayed in glass domes on the counter, they usually included some glittery or shiny embellishments, and taste utterly amazing!  Staff are cheerily pleasant and helpful and service is swift without being rushed. 

Look at that utter deliciousness!

Coffee is good and teas, cream teas, cakes and other delicacies are all to be recommended.  If you’re there at breakfast time I can recommend the muffins with rarebit topping, and the lunchtime sandwiches are always tasty and a bit unusual.

As you can see from the frequency of my visits it is my fave coffee spot

*Becca’s blog can be found here:

Becca is Learning